I think that this story works better as a book group discussion story than as a piece by itself. It is profoundly ambiguous, which means that we can all argue with equal validation the positive vs negative viewpoints.
For myself, I fall into the negative camp. I see Trent as a profoundly charming villain who has found a way to keep the city appeased via his art. I loved the line where he asked to borrow a cup of something, and listed roaches in the list of possibilities. When he opened up to the narrator the reason that she was dying, I had high expectations that she would figure it out and through human contact, save herself. Instead, we get a complete dissolution of body and soul, absorbed by art and rather dysfunctional relationship with Trent. The heroine never got a chance to act on what she learned. She was just consumed. If that is not horror, what is?
It is interesting though how surreal elements can sneak up on you, and hit hard. I am a caregiver for someone who is losing herself bit by bit to a rather nasty disease. And it seems like the moment we have discovered one strategy for how to cope with it, that strategy becomes meaningless because the disease suddenly progresses and takes another part of her away. Having the narrator in this story lose parts of herself in a seemingly random pattern until she can no longer care for herself felt like perhaps the truest metaphor of my Mother-in-law's disease that I have encountered. Even the part where Trent turns the narrator into art hit too close to home for me. When a sick person loses the ability to communicate, other people have a tendency to remake that person in their own minds. When we look at her, are we seeing the real person? The person who is struggling, who wants to make a difference, who wants to have a life with value, and who is losing that battle? I don't know.
I didn't like this story, but boy... It sure gave me a lot to think about.
Hmm