Do you ever have a particular vibe you just love in art and media, and then realize that there’s a common throughline for why you love these particular songs, stories, artworks?
If, like me, you enjoyed Cinderella as a child, and Knives Out as an adult, if Stephen King’s Carrie and Roald Dahl’s Mathilda struck a cord with you, and if Artemisia Gentileschi’s painting Judith Slaying Holofernes speaks to your soul, it might just be that you enjoy stories that are Good for Her.
What began with a gif from a television show (a woman responding to news about a mother driving herself and young children into a lake with “good for her!”) and a Tweet (@cinematogxphy’s post about the Good for her Cinematic Universe) has become a shorthand way to describe a certain storytelling form.
There is a lot of discourse about what defines a Good for Her story, but the definition I most appreciate suggests that this kind of narrative:
- Features a female/ femme protagonist who
- Lives in a systemically unjust society (usually patriarchal), and
- Is personally harmed by the outrageous injustices of that society, and
- Overcomes this harm/ injustice by playing not by the rules of society, but by her own rules.
- There must be a major catharsis for both the audience and the heroine, and
- The heroine cannot feel sorry for winning. She also cannot feel sorry for how she’s won.
The Obsession by Jesse Sutanto
This book begins with the horrifying but cathartic death of an abusive stepdad who also happens to be a cop, and of course things only get messier and more cathartic from there. It’s one of those books that’s hard to talk about at all because it’s so full of delicious twists and you don’t want to give anything away, but I will tell you that as I was reading the ending, I was stunned when I realized Sutanto was actually going to go there with her heroine. If you’ve ever known the claustrophobia of being stalked, I highly recommend this one.
The Eyes are the Best Part by Monika Kim
Like Sutanto’s Obsession, The Eyes are the Best Part follows an Asian American girl whose mother is in a bad domestic situation with an intolerable man. If you’ve ever had a craving for a story that drops you off at the chaotic intersection of sexism, racism, performative male feminism, and cannibalism while delivering justice in an unexpected way (who among us hasn’t?), this will be the thing that hits the spot. The plot twists spiral tightly as we follow our heroine into what could be described as a well-deserved, highly justified, and diabolically useful descent into madness, where she takes care of her family’s problems in unconventional but ultimately satisfying ways. In the context of this book, there are layers to what I mean when I say “satisfying.”
Victorian Psycho by Virginia Feito
Like the semi eponymous American Psycho, Victorian Psycho follows a protagonist who is deeply unsettling. She is a governess with a backstory that is as horrifying as it is Victorian. As we follow our psychopathic heroine into the estate of her new employer, we might almost pity the lecherous father, insecure mother, insufferable children, and bewildered servants as they fall prey to the sadism, manipulative games, and violent impulses of Winifred Notty. At once upsetting and refreshing, Victorian Psycho delivers shock, dread, vexation, and delightfully awkward situational comedy in perfect balance. Sometimes “good for her” runs at cross purposes with “good for everyone else,” and Victorian Psycho is a darkly hilarious case in point.
Ana Must Die (Again) by EJ Green
Built around a secluded religious community that merges The Stepford Wives with The Handmaid’s tale in this necromantic black horror comedy, Ana Must Die is a dual POV story that follows Grace, a faithful and devoted housewife who is beginning to see the cracks in the social system in which she lives, and Daisy, a headless undead woman who cannot remember where she came from and must rediscover her identity as navigates a modern world full new possibility, and perhaps even love. Exploring themes of motherhood, faith and agency with a rollicking throughline of wry humor and social commentary, this novel serves up catharsis for anyone harmed by the patriarchy and warning for men who like power too much.
I know, I know, publishing books about tradwives is all the rage at the moment, but few people approach the topic with such devious verve as Saratoga Schaefer. Saratoga resists the temptation to dehumanize their heroine, to make her a caricature and object of mockery, and instead draws out a character who is compelling and dynamic. Even when we may be apt to disagree with Camille, we sympathize with her and are even rooting for her. Her arc is a beautiful thing to witness, the gore is both graphic and hilarious, and if you’ve ever survived the trenches of pregnancy and postpartum, there will be a lot here that rings true. Again, it’s difficult to write about without giving too much away, but if you’ve ever belted out the chorus to Chicago’s “He had it Comin’” with your whole chest and felt every word, this book is for you.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Mathilda Zeller writes horror and fantasy. She is of Inuit descent and her family and roots extend deep into the Kobuk River Valley, which inspires and informs her writing. Mathilda Zeller is a pen name, honoring two of her resilient great-grandmothers. Her debut novel, It Looks Like You in the Dark, is available now.