Incomplete Book Review: My Kitten

“Yawn kitten, stretch kitten, sweet kitten, bright.”

This statement is both the beginning and end of the amazon preview of My Kitten, Margaret O’Hair’s story about a young girl and a kitten (apparently). (Illustrations by Tammie Lyon)

There is, of course, a depth to the simplicity that beggars analysis, though I shall try, as we all must try at some point, to decipher the deep messages within. That the kitten can represent anything other than that utter, child-like profusion of wonder and curiosity seems to me an odd idea. We are shown two juxtaposed pictures of a child yawning and the kitting yawning, respectively. Though how these two images are attached to the universe around them is food for thought: is it the girl whose yawning has caused the cat to yawn or is it the opposite? And just look at that opening line. There is an absolute symmetry between the statements “stretch kitten” and “yawn kitten”, but how on earth does “bright” fit in? Is it a descriptor of the cat’s intellect? Is it an obtuse reference to the interplay between cat and sun? We cannot know, in the same way that neither cat nor human can ever know, the meaning of the world’s intricacies. Instead we must take things as they appear.

There is a statement on the back cover that may reveal more insight into the progression of the plot, the characters, the cadence, the everything else, etc. But I am morally unsure about reviewing a back cover synopsis, even if it is technically included in the amazon preview, so I will refrain from doing so.

How the story would end if I had written it:

Image of girl throwing a ball of yarn at the kitten.

“Kitten likes the yarn. Kitten chases the yarn.”

Image of girl petting kitten.

And then the story takes a left turn: the girl begins to ponder her empty existence, and, through those daring kitten eyes, sees the doorway to a reality that can never be. No matter how many facile games she plays with the kitten, language will always be an insurmountable barrier between the two.

As it happens, the kitten is also stuck in a malaise. Eat, sleep, play, etc. There is an unfathomable drought of new activity as the kitten learns the behaviors of the girl and soon becomes a full blown cat. After months of plotting and angling, the cat escapes and runs into a tree as an act of defiance. The girl can never understand why the cat does this. The authorities are finally called in and the cat pried away from the tree and sent back to its home like a fugitive slave.

The cat still ponders and plans about escaping, but, in the end, it realizes that its existence depends upon the amusement of an ornery child. And lamenting that pure fact can only be the same as assenting to positive insanity. The cat may foolishly convince itself that it is its own master, but the hand that dumps the bits of food into its plastic bowl knows better. Eventually the cat dies and is incinerated. The girl eventually finds a new kitten, and we are treated to the final scene: “Yawn kitten, stretch kitten, sweet kitten, bright.” Only this time, the words have a new, more terrible meaning.