Someone You Can Build a Nest In

“Each year when Shesheshen hibernated, she dreamed of her childhood nest.

Oh, the warmth of it. A warmth unlike anything in the adult world, soft and pliable heat keeping her and her siblings alive. In that warmth, they were fed raw life. Her father’s ribs, rich in marrow, cracking delicately in their mouths, and providing the first feast of their lives. His fat deposits were generous, and his entrails sheltered them from the cruel winter elements. If Shesheshen could have spent her entire life inside the nest of his remains, she would have.”

This opening passage establishes the symbol of nests that reverberates throughout the novel. It also inverts traditional family dynamics through its description of a father who becomes literal shelter for his offspring through his self-sacrifice. The visceral language simultaneously evokes horror and tenderness, creating cognitive dissonance that challenges assumptions about monstrosity. It also introduces the motif of consumption, and it is immediately framed as a form of intimacy and nurturing rather than mere violence, which is a foundational concept for understanding Shesheshen’s worldview.

“These people had rosemary oil?

She cursed out of multiple orifices. These monster hunters had done their research. One of the things she couldn’t tolerate was rosemary. Once a local girl had candied it and fooled her into eating it, and Shesheshen pissed bile for a week.

As it was, her flesh struggled to keep her aloft on her makeshift bones. She needed to eat and gather strength. A fight would not go pleasantly. The last thing she wanted to wake up to was dying.”

This passage introduces rosemary as Shesheshen’s vulnerability while using dark humor to emphasize her non-human physiology. The reference to past trickery by a “local girl” establishes that her wariness of humans stems from specific betrayals rather than inherent misanthropy. The novel also creates dramatic tension through the contrast between her weakened physical state and her desperate need to fight or flee, underscoring that survival is a driving force.

“Shesheshen gave a sweet whine as she scratched along the bear’s scalp, getting behind her ears where she couldn’t reach to please herself. They cuddled together, and Blueberry snacked on the remains of the man who’d paid to kill her.

It was some sort of love. Not the kind of love that made you plant your eggs in someone and turn them into a parent, but a kind of love.”

This scene showcases Shesheshen’s capacity for connection outside human relationship frameworks through her bond with Blueberry. The juxtaposition of tender affection (“cuddled together”) with casual consumption of human remains exemplifies how the novel constantly challenges conventional moral boundaries.