Here are the main things you need to know about The Refrigerator Monologues: it is intense, painful, and triumphant. It is NOT a romance. Readers would benefit from some familiarity with common comic book tropes while reading. Also, it’s feminist as fuck.

The book derives its inspiration from the Women in Refrigerators website created by Gail Simone in 1999. Simone launched a conversation that is still going strong about the frequency with which female characters are killed, injured, raped, or otherwise brutalized in comics for no purpose other than to fuel a man’s story. The trope name comes from the unfortunate girlfriend of Kyle Raynor (the Green Lantern) who comes home one night to find his girlfriend murdered and her body stuffed in his refrigerator. This leads Kyle to finally fully assume his role as Green Lantern as he seek vengeance and then goes on fight other battles, now secure in his superhero role.

The monologues are kicked off by Paige Embry, who introduces the reader to Deadtown (the afterlife for comics characters) and some of the women who live there. Paige is clearly inspired by the character of Gwen Stacey (Peter Parker, AKA Spiderman’s, first girlfriend). Paige is, for lack of a better term, the president of the Hell Hath Club. This club consists of women who have died (sometimes permanently, sometimes temporarily) as a result of their association with male superheroes:

There’s a lot of us. We’re mostly very beautiful and very well read and very angry. We have seen some shit. Our numbers change-a few more this week, a few less next, depending on if anyone gets called up to the big game. You can’t keep your lunch date if some topside science jockey figures out how to make a zombie-you. We’re totally understanding about that kind of thing. She’ll be back. They always come back. Zombies never last, power sputters out, and clones don’t have the self-preservation God gave a toddler in a stove shop.

In subsequent chapters, different members of the Hell Hath Club tell their stories. Comic book fans will recognize characters inspired by, among others, Harley Quinn (Batman), Mera (Aquaman), Jean Grey/Phoenix/Dark Phoenix (X-Men), and Karen Page (Daredevil). The key word here is “inspired.” Each character has their own story distinct from any inspiration. This allows the author to explore themes that might not otherwise make sense. For example, to my knowledge Harley Quinn has never been killed off, but through the character loosely based on her the author can explore themes of emotional and physical abuse, manipulation, denial, and obsession.

In theory, anyone should be able to enjoy this book regardless of their knowledge about comics. However, it’s best enjoyed if you have some familiarity with the tropes being deconstructed, which is a very pompous way of saying FUCK YOU, JOKER, YOU ABUSIVE ASSHAT. We comics readers have a vast reservoir of rage just waiting to be tapped, and this book taps it while still being thoughtful and human.

This is a hard book to read. Stories include loss, betrayal, and exploitation. But it’s also a book about sisterhood, agency, and owning your own story. Sometimes I wanted to cry while reading the book. Sometimes I wanted to scream. At the end, I wanted a framed print of the final illustration by Annie Wu, a “Hell Hath” T-Shirt (would that either of those things were available) and a chance to smash the patriarchy (call your elected officials, y’all). It’s a troubling and triumphant book and anyone who celebrates feminism in comics and good old female rage will love it.