In Maristatter’s dystopian debut novel, a young woman seeks shelter from a theocratic American regime.
Meryn Flint is 18 years old, but she’s not legally allowed to move out of her parents’ house. According to the patriarchal laws of the Christian States of America, Meryn must wait until her stepfather, Ray Esselin, finds her a husband. However, when Ray, in a drunken rage, kills Meryn’s mother for burning some pork chops, Meryn must leave home for her own safety. When she does so, she steps into a world in which she has no rights and few people she can trust. The society is divided into multiple castes, and the most privileged take advantage of genetic engineering. Meryn, however, is a member of the Worker Caste with little hope of advancement. She can either marry her former boyfriend—the well-connected but violent Steffan Hagen—or go rogue and join the off-grid community of Tin Town, where widows and other outcasts build their own houses from scavenged materials. Meryn chooses the latter, and for once in her life, she feels part of a proper community. But will it be enough to keep her safe and free from men who would do her harm? Maristatter’s prose is urgent and imaginative over the course of this novel, and the dystopia it fleshes out is frightfully intricate. In this passage, for instance, Meryn walks through Tin Town for the first time: “The muddy board sidewalk beneath our feet ran the length of the town, its sections uneven and cracked….A door slammed, its metallic screech harsh in the morning air. I caught the reek of stale beer and ‘kitty,’ a synthetic (and illegal) khat drug popular with the Indigent Caste.” Readers will detect shades of such works as Margaret Atwood’s 1985 classic The Handmaid’s Tale and other works of feminist speculative fiction, and, much like the authors of those stories, Maristatter crafts a tale that’s as believable as it is disturbing. It isn’t always subtle, but it’s unquestionably immersive and memorably wrought.
A well-realized work of near-future fiction that echoes timely themes.
A dystopian science fiction novel that is a believable extrapolation of current social, cultural, and religious attempts to restrict and roll back the rights and freedoms of women, "Tiny Tin House" is a masterfully crafted and riveting novel populated throughout by memorable characters. While especially and unreservedly recommended for community library Science Fiction collections, it should be noted for personal reading lists that "Tiny Tin House" is also available in a paperback edition (9798986631103, $17.99) and in a digital book format (Kindle, $7.99).
Reviewed by Gail Galvan.
As I sit reading this profoundly disturbing book (on International Women’s Day), I’m thinking, what is wrong with this fictitious story, and what is wrong with the real world? A whole lot, I concluded. With wayward efforts to cultivate a perfected “Christian” morally correct society—all that happens is evil, unfair chaos for the female victims of such unjust laws. Decent citizens could only hope that the story was truly imaginary. Unfortunately, much of the content and horrors acted out toward women are not.
Remarkably, this is the author’s first novel, and she has weaved a provocative, chilling story about a young woman just trying to live her life. That, sadly, 18-year-old Meryn cannot do. She is cursed to live in a society where men rule. It’s as if a man can do no wrong and a woman can do no right. And women, by the way, have very few rights. What they must do is marry. That’s the law in the Christian United States of America! Live at home until married.
Her stepfather, Ray, has picked out her husband, Steffan. But he is not kind; he is controlling and even violent toward Meryn at times. Though Meryn makes it clear that she will not marry him, he won’t give in. He stalks her, calling her a “slut” and “whore” and demanding her for his bride. Even the stepfather and the Minister of the church, as he is called, gets involved to kidnap Meryn, poison her, and condition her so that she is physically sick every time she thinks rebelliously.
But there is a saving grace society out there called the “Liberté.” And a neighborhood with tiny tin houses and people who do believe in true loving Christian values and equal rights. Meryn finds her way there and lives with a family until she can get her tiny tin house ready. There is so much more to the story; you’d just have to read it.
For instance, chips inserted in the right arms are an everyday reality. The definitive caste systems and the names are eerie: Worker Caste, Governance, Exalted. And the lawmakers who rule (Guardian Angels, the RD—Reformation Directorate guardians) are feared and hated by many.
The cover is striking, and the content is intriguing. Just the title made me want to read the book. Also, with phrases like “the clouds played hide-n-seek with the sun,” “the stars winked off and on,” “fear warred with sympathy,” and “my nightmare crystallized before me,” I found the style of writing lovely and unique. Loved the futuristic imagination, too. In one part, especially in the retail store where Meryn works, there are “live quins.” (Very life-like mannequins, it seems—something like straight out of a Twilight Zone episode.)
It’s a biblical kind of story, though, in many ways, so occasionally I felt like the preaching and teaching went on just a tad too long. But it all fell in sync with the story, so I understood the necessity.
This book is an excellent good read with absolutely profound significance in a day and age where most of the atrocities “imagined” in the book tragically actually happen every day in the year 2023, whether in Iran, where girls are poisoned or shot down in the streets, or elsewhere as females are denied rights or silenced all over the world by “MORALITY POLICE.”
