Small Cuts, a novel by Charlotte Labiche, explores the theme of revenge not through dramatic gestures, but through precise, almost clinical actions—like cutting, disinfecting, and storing, much like one might handle household items. The story begins with Pâquerette, a woman who is deeply fond of her fiancé, Jean-Benoît, admiring his glasses, his job as a notary, and his refined manners. Their future seems bright and carefully planned—until a lottery ticket worth 32 million euros changes everything. Jean-Benoît disappears, and Pâquerette’s life begins to unravel, marked by the realization that her world is falling apart. The novel’s strength lies in the contrast between Pâquerette’s meticulous, almost obsessive attention to detail and the chaos unfolding around her. Even her anger is methodical, categorized under "Justice. Revenge. Sanction." Labiche’s narrative finds joy in the absurdity of this contrast, where the domestic and the violent coexist. When the story reaches a point where a severed finger becomes a practical concern, it highlights how morality is shaped by context, a theme that runs through the book. Yet Small Cuts is more than just a dark comedy or a thriller. It also follows Pâquerette’s internal struggle as she tries to fit into a life she believes is more refined than her own. Themes of class contempt, self-erasure, and romantic ideals are explored through the lens of burlesque, without being overly explicit. The question of who Pâquerette truly loved becomes a pivotal moment, adding depth to her character beyond the surface-level humor. The novel also features Bernadette, Jean-Benoît’s mother, who adds a darker, more experienced edge to the story. Together with Pâquerette, she forms a duo that drives the narrative forward, blending elements of a dialogue-driven comedy with a criminal road trip. As Bernadette says, "We are not psychopaths," highlighting the book’s ability to present horror with the casual tone of a recipe. While the plot occasionally loses tension and some characters become exaggerated, Labiche’s narrative remains compelling, reminding readers that true transformation is more than just cutting off a few toes—it requires deeper change. Small Cuts chooses the sharp edge of the knife over the delicate lace of traditional storytelling.