It inspects what the love of a monster might mean when it doesn’t involve kidnapping, as it usually does in stories of uncanny “romance.” These tales are often anxious about a woman’s sexual allure, or feature a stiff measure of racist dread-think of King Kong or The Creature from the Black Lagoon. Caliban tells the droll story of love between an amphibious monster named Larry and a depressed housewife named Dorothy. At 111 pages, shorn of extensive subplots, and paced for an evening’s read, Mrs.
Caliban, which originally appeared in 1982 and was re-issued this past November by New Directions, you may wonder how the marvelous secret of this novel was kept from you for so long.
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