Honestly Maskerade is not a body-positive book in the sense that it would celebrate Agnes and her body as being beautiful, at least not explicitly - instead it explores the ruthless reality young fat girls face in the world of people who judge them by their size. I mean - Maskerade is so amazing. It’s a fantasy book from the point of view of a very fat young woman. I’ve never read anything like it. The whole narrative of Maskerade is an argument - because it’s painfully obvious for the viewer what Agnes deserves, what she wants, what she yearns for - that even fat women deserve romance and whimsy and silliness, that they deserve to be in the spotlight. Agnes feels such a strong cognitive dissonance between what she wants and what she knows is her place in the society that she literally creates for herself an alter-ego as an outlet.
Agnes is never really celebrated in the book. She faces mostly disappointment. No one comes to realize that despite her size she’s fantastic and should be the star of the show. That is, except for the reader, which I think is the most important thing.
We throw around the word never likes its nothing but a small rose petal. The word never is a doubled edged sword. On one side it says ‘I will never leave you’ and on the other it says ‘I will never love you.’
Looking back, I can’t remember the truth. I blew everything out of proportion so I could feel the hurt and betrayal and write about it in vivid detail. It was my own method of torture. My own undoing; and I enjoyed every second of it.