Estimated reading time: 3 – 5 minutes
Hello, Angst Junkies! I bring you another review for the glorious Remittance Girl. She’s taken me to the Japanese underworld, the steaming outposts of Cambodia, and now back to my home country of the United States in the “The Splinter.” Familiar the landscape may be, but as always, Remittance Girl takes me on a psychological journey. This time into the realms of self-flagellation.
Republica Press describes “The Splinter” as:
For thousands of years, man has sought experience of the divine. He has found strange and sometimes shocking ways to achieve it. Dolores Gutierrez has had visions since early childhood. Convinced that God is calling her to holy orders, she has modeled herself on Teresa of Avila, a medieval saint. But it is pain, not prayer, that brings her visions.
Acutely aware of the dark history of his own religion, Father Steven, the sensible priest of her parish, is certain that Dolores is far more in need of psychiatric care than a nun’s habit. He seeks the help of a colleague, Brother Simon, to assess the disturbed Dolores.
Uniquely qualified to counsel the young woman because of his own struggles with self-immolation, Simon takes on the task only reluctantly; he is not convinced his own demons have been put to rest. Is God really speaking to Dolores, or is it something else?
“The Splinter” is 65 pages in PDF form and 18,708 words. We have Dolores, a young girl fanatically devoted to her faith, who sees pain and blood as the ultimate sacrifice and proof of faith. Everyone around is unnerved by her fanaticism, yet, unsure of what to do.
After all, Dolores loves God. How can you discourage that?
Father Steven, a priest who describes Dolores as
She was just too – it was hard to find a word for what she was – devout? Fanatical? She was too fascinated by far with the harsher aspects of Catholicism.
sees the unhealthy notes of her love. So he sends her to see Brother Simon, a man who has carved the proof of his extreme devotion on his body and face. From there, Dolores and Brother Simon alternately become Tempter and Temptee for one another until the very end.
I would describe this book as less erotica and more a psychological study. The writing is strong, the characters sharp, and the self-violence unflinching. While “The Splinter” did not necessarily hit my kink button below the waist, it did hit it above.
I often wonder why I seem to like my sex rougher, crude, and a little bit violent. This taste doesn’t necessarily run along the flowery meadows and whispers of love that many of my fellow gender seem to celebrate.
Was it childhood trauma? Not enough love? Too much pressure? Daily violence? Or was I just built that way?
“The Splinter” brings those questions to mind as I examine Dolores and Simon. Why are they the way they are? Why does extreme pain bring clarity and peace to them and the many like them? Why does pain show love?
I’m left with no concrete answers nor am I expected to. Remittance Girl presents us a view into someone else, not as a cautionary tale or a seedy thrill, but as a way to say, “People are different. We all have that quirk which makes us feel isolated and unworthy of love. The peace comes from finding those who are built the same. It is then you feel the beauty of who you are.”
Thank you, Remittance Girl, for writing non-judgmental pieces like this.
You may purchase “The Splinter” at Republica Press for $2.99 in Adobe PDF, MobiPocket, and ePUB formats. The Splinter Kindle edition is also available on Amazon.
I’ve missed Julian & Lily as well. I’m...