As the survivor of domestic abuse perpetrated by my, if you had asked me before reading the novel if it was OK to imbue humor into the discourse surrounding domestic abuse, I would have said, 鈥淗ell no.鈥� But Casale doesn鈥檛 make light of violence; instead, she uses humor as an advocacy tool to illuminate a grim truth: Too often, the legal system rather than abusers. To stay safe and out of prison, women frequently have to (green thumb or not) take matters into their own hands.

If that鈥檚 too dark a thought, Casale gets it. 鈥淧eople don鈥檛 want to hear about the grim reality of male violence against women and girls,鈥� she writes in her author鈥檚 note. 鈥淭his novel is an attempt to use humor to cut through people鈥檚 reluctance to engage.鈥� If readers giggle along as Sally covers her husband鈥檚 body in cat litter to dry it out, sprinkling on some rice for good measure鈥斺�渏ust like our wedding day!鈥濃�攖hen they鈥檙e not looking away from domestic abuse. And that鈥檚 the whole point.

The Lockdown Ladies鈥� Burial Club never had the pandemic luxury of baking sourdough or tie-dyeing tees. If their common bond was a love of Agatha Christie mysteries鈥攔ather than surviving abuse鈥攖hey might have met in a virtual book club, cementing their friendship over wine-induced theories on how to get away with murder. Instead, they鈥檙e tasked with something much more difficult: figuring out how to avoid prison.

Women who claim self-defense against their abusers are than men who shoot strangers under. The law is more willing to side with a man who fires a gun at a nonviolent burglar than a woman who fights back against a husband who鈥檚 abused her for (as in Sally鈥檚 case) 20 years. That means Sally鈥檚 likely at fault, legally, when her husband, Jim, 鈥減unishes鈥� her for making his tea too light鈥攂y pouring boiling water over her hand鈥攁nd she reaches for her granny鈥檚 skillet to defend herself.

鈥淭here is a practical side of self-defense that can be empowering,鈥� says Shaunna Thomas, co-founder and executive director of UltraViolet, a feminist advocacy organization. 鈥淏ut the concept is often grounded in a misogynistic idea that women who are harmed are and are solely responsible for their own safety regardless of the circumstances.鈥�

In Sally鈥檚 case, the 鈥渃ircumstances鈥� seem pretty clear-cut: Jim attacked her, and she defended herself, accidentally killing him in the process. But 鈥渟elf-defense law was not created with women or victims of abuse in mind,鈥� says Elizabeth Flock, author of . Flock, an Emmy Award鈥搘inning journalist whose book examines what happens when, says the 鈥溾�� was 鈥渃reated by and for property-owning white men to protect their so-called 鈥榗astles.鈥欌��

If that sounds disgustingly patriarchal,, and outdated, that鈥檚 because it is. The law allows deadly force to protect your home but 鈥渄oesn鈥檛 account for women who defend themselves and their bodies against abusers who reside in their home and often have wielded violence for years,鈥� Flock says. The result? 鈥淲omen claiming self-defense often get convicted of murder or manslaughter, or take and end up spending years in prison.鈥�

More years, in fact, than men who kill their female partners. Abusive men who kill women face in prison, while women who kill men鈥斺�攁re sentenced to an average of. Unsurprisingly, prisons are filled with .

After Sally fights back, instead of calling the police, she eats some cake. Jim鈥檚 rotting on her kitchen floor, no longer capable of telling her she鈥檚 too fat or undeserving of treats. So she pours herself a glass of wine, grabs a bag of chips, and takes a bubble bath. The sense of relief and possibility Sally feels in Jim鈥檚 absence is overwhelming, so she makes a 鈥渂e happy鈥� list to extend her serotonin boost (bake! rescue a cat! get a job!). Then her 鈥済et rid of Jim鈥� list takes precedence, because if she waited this long to call the police, would anyone really believe she acted in self-defense?

鈥淚n a court of law, a woman can put her hand on a bible and swear to tell the whole truth, but if her word isn鈥檛 valued, the whole truth may not be heard,鈥� domestic violence court advocate Tonya GJ Prince says. Prince can still remember the haunting screams that pierced the courtroom 20 years ago when a survivor she was assisting played a recording of her violent attack. 

She was seeking a restraining order, but knew that without proof of violence, her request was likely to be denied. Her abuser was鈥攁s is often the case鈥攕een publicly as a 鈥渘ice guy.鈥�

鈥淲hen the recording ended, no one in the courtroom moved,鈥� Prince recalls. 鈥淚t was one of those moments where you had to remind yourself to breathe.鈥�

The judge granted the woman鈥檚 request for a restraining order, but not without chastising her 鈥渄ramatic and over-the-top鈥� screams. If that sounds familiar鈥攁nd sickening鈥攜ou may remember that Amber Heard鈥檚 of was seen not as but of her.

The inherent in our is why an NYPD detective told my mom in the 鈥�90s that the law couldn鈥檛 protect us from my father and that our only options were for my mom to either kill him or go into hiding with my sister and me. (She chose the latter, and if this sounds like a Lifetime Movie, it.)

New York didn鈥檛 have any stalking laws at the time, so my father鈥攁nd the hit man he hired鈥攚as free to hunt and terrorize us. Unless it became a murder case, there was nothing the cops could do. 

Before we escaped our home in Canada and fled to New York, my father attacked my mom outside his office in Michigan and threw her into oncoming traffic. He spent a single night in jail, and the felony assault case against him was dismissed in less than 30 minutes. Despite my horror-fueled objections, I was forced by court order to visit him. If my mom refused to hand me over, she would be held in contempt and possibly jailed.

Too often, the law protects abusive men and abused women, and the media aids and abets this abuse. Recently, The New York Times when it wrote鈥攖hen seemingly鈥攖hat O.J. Simpson鈥檚 鈥渨orld was ruined鈥� after being charged with killing his ex-wife, Nicole Brown Simpson. Yet problematic language remains in the paper鈥檚 of Simpson鈥檚 obituary, which briefly mentions that he Brown Simpson鈥攚hom prosecutors said he 鈥攜et calls him 鈥渃ongenial鈥� and his marriage 鈥渟tormy.鈥澛燭he way the press has while is eerily reminiscent of the that failed Brown Simpson鈥攁nd continues to fail domestic violence survivors 30 years later.

In the U.S. legal system, only dead women鈥攚ho can鈥檛 speak up or defend themselves鈥攁re considered. My mom, thankfully, was not a perfect victim. Neither were Amber Heard or any of the members of fictional Lockdown Ladies鈥� Burial Club. These women didn鈥檛 only fight back; they survived.

鈥淚n this moment, after 100 years of erasure, false narratives, and racism built into the country industry, it鈥檚 important to shine a light on the Black co-creation of country music鈥攁nd creation is the correct word, not influence,鈥� Giddens writes. 鈥淏lack musicians, along with their working-class white counterparts, were active participants and creators, not empty vessels with good rhythm.鈥�

Sometimes these myths have been weaponized violently. Black country veterans, including , Charley Pride, and have shared their experiences performing in country music spaces, including the racial slurs and threats directed at them. For example, in his 1994 memoir, Pride writes about touring the U.S. South in the late 1960s, where some of the concert venues he played received bomb threats.

As both a Black fan and writer of country music criticism, I鈥檝e thought twice about bringing my child to a country music festival or concert with me, out of聽fear she might witness or be the target of another fan鈥檚 violence. But while criticisms of Beyonc茅 have sometimes gotten ugly (鈥檚 dehumanizing comparison of聽Beyonc茅 to a dog peeing against a tree to mark her territory is one particularly vivid example), in the wake of Cowboy Carter, listeners who might not have heard their stories told in mainstream country music are into the genre.

Black country artists, including Tanner Adell, Tiera Kennedy, Reyna Roberts, Willie Jones, Linda Martell, Brittney Spencer, and Shaboozey, who all appear on Cowboy Carter, have seen an uptick in and overall listenership on streaming services. Perhaps we could dub this the 鈥淏eyonc茅 Effect,鈥� a wave that lifts all who surround her, but Beyonc茅鈥檚 impact goes beyond opening the door wider for a handful of Black country artists.聽

Cowboy Carter also opens up conversations about Black creativity and imaginative freedom within country music and beyond, planting the seeds for deeper social change. On the album, Beyonc茅 cites and performs an expansive history of Black musical creativity, while also bringing her own unique energy and style. Throughout the album, Beyonc茅 channels Ray Charles鈥� showmanship and swinging reinterpretations that made his 1962 album, 鈥淢odern Sounds in Country and Western Music,鈥� a in the country genre.

You can especially hear her power to freshly reinterpret classics on her version of 鈥淛olene.鈥� We get the sunny optimism of Charley Pride鈥檚 鈥淜iss an Angel Good Morning,鈥� on 鈥淏odyguard,鈥� though it鈥檚 tweaked for modern times. (She even sings to her lover, 鈥淚 could be your bodyguard/ Please let me be your Kevlar (Huh)/ Baby, let me be your lifeguard/ Would you let me ride shotgun?鈥�) On 鈥�16 Carriages,鈥� Beyonc茅 tells a story of lost innocence and sacrifice as a young performer, echoing themes present in Allison Russell鈥檚 鈥淣ight Flyer,鈥� 鈥淧ersephone,鈥� and other songs about survival that appear on her 2021 album, 鈥淥utside Child.鈥�

On her tender lullaby 鈥淧rotector,鈥� performed with her daughter Rumi, Beyonc茅 promises to nurture her daughter鈥檚 light: 鈥淓ven though I know someday you鈥檙e gonna shine on your own/ I will be your projector.鈥� I hear a resonance with Black country songwriter Alice Randall鈥檚 wonderful 鈥淢y Dream,鈥� performed by Valerie June and included on the 2024 album, 鈥淢y Black Country: The Songs of Alice Randall.鈥� 

We get the muscular country rock spirit of Tina Turner鈥檚 鈥淣utbush City Limits鈥� (especially of the song) on records like 鈥淵a Ya鈥� and 鈥淭exas Hold 鈥楨m.鈥� (I can imagine these songs as production numbers in the style of Tina Turner and Beyonc茅 herself, seeing as Beyonc茅 performed 鈥淧roud Mary鈥� with her icon at .)

And might Beyonc茅鈥檚 flirty duet with Miley Cyrus, 鈥淚I Most Wanted,鈥� (鈥淢aking waves in the wind with my empty hand/ My other hand on you鈥�) be the sequel (or prequel?) to Tracy Chapman鈥檚 鈥淔ast Car,鈥� a sapphic provocation from the shotgun seat, Luke Combs left behind in the dust? 鈥淚I Most Wanted鈥� is one of several songs on Cowboy Carter that speak to the centrality of stories of finding love and mobility in Black country, blues, and rhythm and blues music. Whether by horse, train, Cadillac, or Starship, Black music is shaped by stories of leaving, returning, and wandering to places known and unknown.

Beyonc茅鈥檚 crossing and melding, hybridizing and swirling on this album, has everything to do with reclaiming, an artistic action denied just about any Black artist who wants to make it in country music. For earlier Black artists like Bobby Womack, Millie Jackson, and Joe Tex, there has often been a double standard to 鈥渟tay in your lane,鈥� while white artists have been free to experiment, as Charles L. Hughes makes clear in his 2015 book, .

Cowboy Carter is a provocation, a new chapter, a clapback. It is not so much a rejection of the past as much as a sometimes-neck-popping conversation with that past, and with that, a rethinking of it. As both an improviser and re-interpreter, Beyonc茅 carries forward the tradition of African American art-making that is deeply invested in the changing same, bringing new energy to past songs. This spirit of circularity, a key African American aesthetic is evoked in the very first lyrics of the album: 鈥淣othing really ends/ For things to stay the same/ They have to change again.鈥�

In that way, we might see her as continuing a legacy of Black innovation in country music, whether it鈥檚 because of the ill fit of the instruments she inherited, the countrypolitan storytelling of Linda Martell, or the sex-positive grooves of Millie Jackson and Tanner Adell.

Ultimately, there is a kind of recovery at the heart of this album鈥攁 healing of the spirit of Black innovation in a genre that has worked so hard to repress it: 鈥淗ello, my old friend/ You change your name but not the ways you play pretend,鈥� Beyonc茅 sings in 鈥淎merican Requiem.鈥� A requiem is normally a mass for the dead, a ritual of remembrance. In traditional white and western ways of thinking, the purpose of a requiem is to lay souls to rest. But on this album, the purpose is to raise the dead, to animate histories and memories once forgotten, or misnamed.

This is an album meant to lift the lid off of the coffin of music that has grown stagnant. Like the exorcism that it is, this process of challenging old narratives and animating lost stories can be risky, vulnerable work. But perhaps it is time to abandon the old 鈥減retend鈥� narratives of 鈥渢hree chords and the truth鈥� to honor other stories, to conjure in order to set all of us free.