Under My Skin

Venera Fazio is a social worker and freelance writer in Rothesay, N.B.

Under My Skin produces an itch that is both irritating and satisfying to
scratch. This first novel by award-winning poet Mary di Michele can be
read as a novel, a psychological thriller, or a metafiction. The
overlapping of three genres makes it difficult if not frustrating to
categorize. I believe it works best as a novel of suspense.

Di Michele writes a story within a story, the core of which is an
unsettling tale of sexual violence. The narrator, who appears only in
the preface and foreword, tells the story of Dr. Skelton, Skelton’s
wife, and one of his patients.

During the day, Dr. Skelton prides himself on his abilities to heal
women. At night, he sadistically exploits them. Through his journal, we
are privy to the details of these assaults. His patient, Rita, becomes
his last victim. Even before Dr. Skelton catches up to her, she is on a
path of self-destruction, abusing sex and alcohol in order to cope with
a failed marriage. Dr. Skelton’s wife, Lily, also dwells on her
unsatisfactory marriage. The general theme of male-female relationships
dominates the book and unites the three characters and the fictional
storyteller.

Di Michele’s perceptive descriptive abilities are evident in such
images as “[the] bones in her hips emerged like fins breaking through
the surface of water” and “eyes without consciousness are like
prophets without vision.” Of the characters, Dr. Skelton is the most
compelling. He is a chilling misogynist. Di Michele is successful at
creating tension and the suspense— how and when will Dr. Skelton be
caught? His victim, Rita, is a less-developed character; in the end, she
fails to generate enough sympathy for us to care about her. The book
would also have been more effective without the distraction of the
fictional storyteller. It is annoying that she is also named Rita.
Altogether, the pleasure is in the writing rather than in the specific
story.