Skin: Stories by Catherine Bush

Reviewed by Wayne Ng

There are reasons each of Catherine Bush’s works receives critical acclaim. Skin: Stories is her first short story collection. It is an evocative and deeply introspective collection that examines the fragility of human relationships, the boundaries between self and others, and the ever-present weight of memory. Each story in the anthology resonates with a unique emotional core, pulling readers into the intricate lives of characters grappling with love, loss, identity, and transformation. With the sure hand, Bush crafts intimate and expansive narratives, leaving a lasting impression.

The collection comprises twelve stories, each offering a distinct yet interconnected meditation on human experience. The opening story, “Benevolence: An East Village Story,” immediately sets the tone for the book. It follows a substitute English teacher whose life becomes entwined with a precocious and enigmatic student. Their relationship unfolds with an unsettling intensity, exploring themes of mentorship, attraction, and the quiet ways in which people shape one another’s lives. Bush’s precise and poetic language is riddled with tension, layered and atmospheric, immersing the reader in a world where emotions and motives are never simple.

One of the standout stories, Skin, after which the collection is titled, delves into the complexities of human touch, the way skin functions as both a barrier and a point of connection. This theme of physical and emotional boundaries recurs throughout the book, often manifesting unexpectedly. In Camouflage, Bush expertly weaves a tale about a woman struggling to understand her place in an unfamiliar environment, her identity shifting as she navigates personal and external expectations.

Another compelling piece, Derecho, is an unsettling meditation on natural disasters and the fragile illusions of control we maintain over our lives. Bush's integration of environmental forces into personal narratives gives the collection a broader, more existential scope. In the haunting Glacial, she takes this even further, using ice's slow, inevitable movement as a metaphor for how people change—or fail to—over time.

Bush’s characters are often caught between worlds, whether geographically, emotionally, or psychologically. Many of them are intellectuals, artists, or outsiders, grappling with their place in environments that feel simultaneously familiar and alien. The way she captures the nuances of displacement and belonging is particularly powerful, making her work resonate with anyone who has ever felt like an outsider in their own life.

The prose throughout Skin: Stories is lyrical and precise. Bush has a gift for creating moods that linger long after the story has ended. Her descriptions are often sensual, making the act of reading an immersive experience. Whether describing the texture of a glove, the way light filters through a room, or the unspoken tension between two people, her writing is evocative without being overwrought.

If this collection has a unifying theme, it is the idea that human connection is both essential and perilous. Every touch, conversation, act of kindness, or betrayal leaves a mark—sometimes visible, sometimes hidden beneath the surface. Bush masterfully explores these interactions, inviting readers to reflect on their relationships and their imprints on others.

That being said, Skin: Stories is not a collection that offers easy answers. Eschewing traditional conflict resolution structures, many of the stories end with a sense of ambiguity, leaving readers to ponder the characters' fates long after turning the last page. This might frustrate those looking for neat conclusions, but it is also one of the book’s strengths. Bush respects the intelligence of her audience, allowing space for interpretation and reflection.

As with any short story collection, some pieces will resonate more deeply than others, depending on the reader’s personal experiences and sensibilities. However, there is no denying the cohesion of Skin: Stories as a whole. Each story feels like a piece of a larger conversation about what it means to be human—vulnerable, longing, and forever in search of understanding.

Ultimately, Skin: Stories is a haunting and beautifully crafted collection that solidifies Catherine Bush’s reputation as a writer of immense talent. Her ability to navigate the subtleties of human emotion and interaction makes this book a rewarding and thought-provoking read. For those who appreciate literary fiction that is deeply pensive, experiential and emotionally rich, this collection is not to be missed.

ORB readers will recall a recent review of the stellar Green to Grey climate anthology, which sought to interrogate our collective responsibility toward the planet. Catherine Bush’s Skin is a wonderful adjunct to Green to Grey, taking that a step deeper as it explores the personal and emotional toll of connection and our environment. Both books serve as urgent reminders that, whether through relationships or climate crises, our actions leave lasting imprints.

Catherine Bush teaches creative writing at Guelph University. She is the author of five novels. Skin: Stories is her first short story collection. 

Skin: Stories is published by Goose Lane.