Anna Noyes' GOODNIGHT, BEAUTIFUL WOMEN is an exemplary debut. Hers are the short stories you use to teach the craft, to exemplify how language can function at its best, its sparsest and sharpest. Shifting through 11 pieces, the collection cuts and vibrates, dark and melodic: a discovery, a reckoning.

Each of the works is self-contained and a masterpiece in and of itself, but they build --- and careful readers will note patterns, resonance. Noyes' tone shifts subtly between her narratives and narrators --- each piece a unique snapshot, and, as a whole, a vivid and captivating triumph. This collection is rich, ripe for rereading. I feel certain that new moments and echoes will rise upon the revisit, though I know the first read will stay with me for a long, long time. 

Noyes captures intimacy, sexuality, guilt and trauma. Her women and their struggles are authentic, but her tellings are wholly unique. An absent mother resurfaces in the actions of a strange woman on a bus. A brutal crime shatters a small town in intricate, surprising ways. A sweet young intimacy is lost among the brutality of heteronormative expectations. A childhood lie reverberates long into a marriage.

"Overall, GOODNIGHT, BEAUTIFUL WOMEN reads like a brisk Northeast midnight: as forbidding as it is enchanting, fraught with threat and glory, alive with the unexpected."

These stories may not be for everyone. Some are harsh and uncomfortable. There's assault, incest, the abuse of young women, manipulation of the mentally ill, unwanted pregnancy, loss. Furthermore, as we forge toward the exquisite of the literary uncertain, the ambiguity with which Noyes has carefully threaded her tales borders on permissive. She abstains from clear conclusion and moral ground, and while this is often a deft move, when it comes to assault and abuse, it can verge on dangerous. For example, another reviewer cites that despite "threats of violence from rapists and molesters, the greatest menace comes from the harm the young female protagonists seem capable of bringing on themselves." We're talking, largely, about children and rape here. Need I seriously emphasize why that line of thinking is not literary, but toxic?

As much as I revel in the form and style of these stories, I recognize that I am a young woman, unfortunately familiar enough with the nuances of rape culture to observe and appreciate Noyes' careful criticism. You absolutely do not have to be a contemporary young woman to find truth and resonance in this work, but you must be open to understanding them. Noyes bears witness to the profound trauma and tragedy of girlhood as they manifest in everyday lives, in interactions that may seem innocuous to an unaware eye. She does this expertly, charging her situations with brutal authenticity and delving into the psyche of what it is to experience this, sometimes inescapably. Of course, the women aren’t faultless; they’re human. Yet to call their fraught responses equal to the crimes committed upon them is to misunderstand, dangerously.

There are many, many ways to read these stories, and I can only hope her readers are capable of recognizing the depth and complexity of her young women without actually blaming them for the atrocities they endure. This volume must be approached with an open mind and open heart. It isn't for those with a weak stomach or an impulse to unquestionably blame girls. 

Overall, GOODNIGHT, BEAUTIFUL WOMEN reads like a brisk Northeast midnight: as forbidding as it is enchanting, fraught with threat and glory, alive with the unexpected. Charged with shattered dreams and uncertain possibilities, it leaves you before the elucidation of the dawn.