Honestly surprised I’m giving this one four stars, because for the first 50-100 pages I thought I was going to rate it much lower. The Compound followHonestly surprised I’m giving this one four stars, because for the first 50-100 pages I thought I was going to rate it much lower. The Compound follows a group of 20 contestants sequestered in a remote desert compound on a reality TV show. They engage in tasks that earn them “rewards,” which range from accessories like hairbrushes to items necessary to survive like food. We follow Lily, described as a thin, blonde woman in her 20s who with time gets more invested in the competition and its prizes. The stakes – and the danger – riles up toward the finale, forcing Lily to confront what she’s willing to sacrifice to win.
One of the reasons I was initially turned off by this book is that I felt that Aisling Rawle’s prose was lifeless. For the first 50-100 pages especially, the writing style rather bored me. However, for some reason I got used to it and perhaps the events of the plot superseded the prose in terms of importance; about halfway into the book I found myself curious and wanting to know what would happen. Though the writing wasn’t remarkable to me, Rawle’s commentary about performance/influencer culture and consumerism was engaging and relevant – and her writing was good enough to keep me invested in the story and subsequently this societal commentary.
I also thought Lily was such a boring protagonist for the first 50-100 pages of the book. I’m not sure if my estimation of Lily changed, rather, my generous interpretation is that Rawles purposefully made her vapid (e.g., caring about material goods, romance, men finding her attractive and datable) to highlight what forces would compel someone to participate in this type of reality TV setup in the first place. At times I wasn’t sure whether the book was endorsing or critiquing heteronormativity/amatonormativity, though I’m fairly certain that Rawles is critical of consumerism and what it drives people to do.
In some ways I feel more of a 3.5 to this book though I’ll just give it four stars because I was quite engaged once I got into it. Curious what other folks think of this one....more
Super entertaining and dare I say, moving? I feel like it’s a sign of a strong novel when you know how it’ll end and you still find yourself caring. ISuper entertaining and dare I say, moving? I feel like it’s a sign of a strong novel when you know how it’ll end and you still find yourself caring. I got invested in Haymitch and his journey through the Hunger Games (and Maysilee too, an icon tbh). Suzanne Collins’ writing is efficient, as I remember it from all those years ago, and keeps the plot moving along. I liked the themes of defiance and rebellion against greater forces of injustices.
I suspect Collins purposefully evoked nostalgia from those of us who read the original trilogy, and I’m not too mad about it! It makes me feel so nostalgic that I read the first book of the trilogy 17 years ago (I was 13 and now I’m 30, omfg.) I think this nostalgia worked both on the plot level – the buildup and execution is very similar if not exactly the same as the first book in the Hunger Games trilogy – and on the level of bringing back characters who we were fond of like Mags, Wiress and Beetee. I actually got a little choked up when a certain character died and when reading the epilogue!
Overall, while not like, an absolutely mind-blowing work of literature, I’d recommend this to those who want an entertaining escape with interesting themes and characters, as well as of course to those who are fans of the original Hunger Games triology....more
Some interesting themes related to robots and technology and what makes us human, and I appreciated the setting in Korea. I can see the appeal of thisSome interesting themes related to robots and technology and what makes us human, and I appreciated the setting in Korea. I can see the appeal of this book too in relation to its commentary on sibling relationships and how we can each react differently even when put in similar environments. But, the writing was too flat and distant for me to get invested in the story. There were some moments where the prose hit but these were too inconsistent for me to immerse myself in Luminous....more
I thought this was an interesting novella with important themes related to oppression and incarceration. As someone in academia I could see how what hI thought this was an interesting novella with important themes related to oppression and incarceration. As someone in academia I could see how what happens in this book manifests in real life academia too, like performative social justice with no real material changes, and/or people who act like they care about inequity and then perpetuate that inequity toward their colleagues and students with less power. I unfortunately found the writing a bit abstract and the characters generic – they felt more like symbols or vehicles for a message than three-dimensional characters – but I respect what Sofia Samatar set out to accomplish with this novella....more
I liked the positive representation of two queer Asian American men in a romantic relationship, as well as Anton Hur’s willingness to name imperialismI liked the positive representation of two queer Asian American men in a romantic relationship, as well as Anton Hur’s willingness to name imperialism. The novel overall contained interesting themes about technology and humanity and how they intersect with memory, yearning, and connection. The prose didn’t grab me though; it felt a bit too “poetic” and not incisive enough, and the multiple points-of-view made it hard for me to really feel invested in any of the characters....more
On a conceptual level I enjoyed this book’s messages about technofascism, the exploitation of prison labor, and how people who stand up again3.5 stars
On a conceptual level I enjoyed this book’s messages about technofascism, the exploitation of prison labor, and how people who stand up against injustice are often the ones who are most punished. That said, I found the structure of the novel a little middling and that it focused more on plot than character-building. The quality of the writing was solid enough for me to get through The Dream Hotel relatively quickly, though the prose didn’t amaze or wow me. A timely novel with a relevant message for today’s times, though the execution wasn’t my favorite....more
The sequel to Neal Shusterman’s thrilling Unwind, UnWholly follows Connor, Risa, and Lev as they take on new enemies and events. They live in a world The sequel to Neal Shusterman’s thrilling Unwind, UnWholly follows Connor, Risa, and Lev as they take on new enemies and events. They live in a world in which teenagers are able to be literally taken apart once they reach the age of thirteen (the process is called “unwinding”), and their separated body parts are sold to others. After the trio escaped Happy Jack Harvest Camp, unwinding has garnered some negative media attention, but not enough to do anything except lower the safety age from 18 to 17. Connor and Risa struggle to stay together and afloat while Connor takes charge of the Graveyard, a safe haven for AWOL unwinds. Lev leaves the spotlight and after some unfortunate occurrences strikes out on his own. And there are some newcomers to the game – Starkey, Miracolina, and Cam – who change things up for our three original protagonists. All six will encounter danger and will be forced to fight for what they believe in, if they can even figure out what they believe in at all.
Shusterman still captivates with his writing in UnWholly. His foreshadowing, layering of suspense, and overall buildup to the climax sucked me into the story and had me wondering what would happen next. His inclusion of public service announcements and other sources of media solidified the world he created, and the numerous themes within the book – sacrifice, what makes a human human, etc. – all made it more scary and shocking than the average dystopia novel.
The characters spoke to me as well. Their internal struggles and external conflicts combined to communicate how tough they each had to be to survive, as well as how confused and in turmoil they were. Starkey, Miracolina, and Cam’s stories added an extra layer of awesomeness to the book, and I look forward to seeing how they’ll develop in the next novel.
Overall, I didn’t love UnWholly as much as I did Unwind. It didn’t feel as fresh and some of the science felt a little fake. It certainly was entertaining, but not extremely thought-provoking like the first book. I had to read it in snippets due to school, which may have contributed to my apathy, but in the end my emotions were not as revved up as I wished they had been. I’m still curious to see where Shusterman takes the characters and the big picture idea of unwinding in the last book of this trilogy, though.
Merged review:
The sequel to Neal Shusterman’s thrilling Unwind, UnWholly follows Connor, Risa, and Lev as they take on new enemies and events. They live in a world in which teenagers are able to be literally taken apart once they reach the age of thirteen (the process is called “unwinding”), and their separated body parts are sold to others. After the trio escaped Happy Jack Harvest Camp, unwinding has garnered some negative media attention, but not enough to do anything except lower the safety age from 18 to 17. Connor and Risa struggle to stay together and afloat while Connor takes charge of the Graveyard, a safe haven for AWOL unwinds. Lev leaves the spotlight and after some unfortunate occurrences strikes out on his own. And there are some newcomers to the game – Starkey, Miracolina, and Cam – who change things up for our three original protagonists. All six will encounter danger and will be forced to fight for what they believe in, if they can even figure out what they believe in at all.
Shusterman still captivates with his writing in UnWholly. His foreshadowing, layering of suspense, and overall buildup to the climax sucked me into the story and had me wondering what would happen next. His inclusion of public service announcements and other sources of media solidified the world he created, and the numerous themes within the book – sacrifice, what makes a human human, etc. – all made it more scary and shocking than the average dystopia novel.
The characters spoke to me as well. Their internal struggles and external conflicts combined to communicate how tough they each had to be to survive, as well as how confused and in turmoil they were. Starkey, Miracolina, and Cam’s stories added an extra layer of awesomeness to the book, and I look forward to seeing how they’ll develop in the next novel.
Overall, I didn’t love UnWholly as much as I did Unwind. It didn’t feel as fresh and some of the science felt a little fake. It certainly was entertaining, but not extremely thought-provoking like the first book. I had to read it in snippets due to school, which may have contributed to my apathy, but in the end my emotions were not as revved up as I wished they had been. I’m still curious to see where Shusterman takes the characters and the big picture idea of unwinding in the last book of this trilogy, though....more
I liked the message about how women face so much pressure to get married and live a heteronormative, amatonormative life by their late 20’s. Other thaI liked the message about how women face so much pressure to get married and live a heteronormative, amatonormative life by their late 20’s. Other than that, though, this book confused me – I found the pacing off and the fantasy elements difficult to buy into. Appreciate the naming of racism and sexism, though unfortunately this book won’t stick with me much....more
Oof, this one was a big miss for me. I think it’s important to explore the devastating impacts of climate change, and I felt mildly intrigued by the tOof, this one was a big miss for me. I think it’s important to explore the devastating impacts of climate change, and I felt mildly intrigued by the theme of should I stay or should I go from the main character’s perspective. However, I found the writing style pretentious and florid for the sake of it, almost like moody to try and get me to feel something instead of flowing more naturally from the character’s psychology. Each dramatic “reveal” from the main character’s past felt forced and inauthentic to me. Her unreliability came across more as a way to delay readers from knowing things instead of as something more psychologically relevant. I can see what the author was going for in terms of the effects of traumatic events on one’s sense of self, though it all felt heavy-handed to me....more
Unfortunately I found this book quite underwhelming and disappointing. First, I felt that the prose was bland. The characters, while distinct enough tUnfortunately I found this book quite underwhelming and disappointing. First, I felt that the prose was bland. The characters, while distinct enough that I could tell them apart, all sounded super similar. The writing lacked a vitality or a more original flavor that would have helped me feel more invested in the story.
I also didn’t quite understand the purpose of the strings dystopia setup. Beyond the prose making a potentially interesting premise fall flat, it seemed to me that Nikki Erlick wanted to make the strings stand-in as a metaphor for another form of discrimination, like racism or sexism or homophobia (e.g., discrimination against short stringers is like other forms of oppression). I don’t think this premise added anything new or interesting to the conversation about societal oppression though. Furthermore, I felt that the book did an awful job of addressing how the string situation would actually affect people of color, LGBTQ+ communities, fat people, etc. – it felt like the story glossed over these important junctions for more shallow-level commentary. Wish I had more positive things to say but hopefully I’ll read something worth hyping up soon!...more
I liked the overall message of this novel about the scrutiny and sexist expectations mothers face in contemporary society. Aside from that though, I fI liked the overall message of this novel about the scrutiny and sexist expectations mothers face in contemporary society. Aside from that though, I found The School for Good Mothers a chore to read. First, the plot seemed like such a mess to me. The novel’s synopsis notes that it focuses on upper-middle-class parenting, which is fine, but women of different class backgrounds were lumped in together in this dystopian school system as if their “crimes” or mistakes were the same?? As Samantha writes about cogently in her review, child separation and revoking parental rights does occur especially for Black and brown mothers so it felt odd and underdeveloped for this to serve as the premise of this novel. The plot didn’t make sense; I get that dystopia requires some suspension of disbelief, though so many random things happened that I found myself flipping pages just to get through to the end.
Jessamine Chan’s writing also felt dry and repetitive. The characters came across as one-dimensional. I think Chan made an honest attempt at portraying some of the racial injustices Black and Latinx mothers face as well as the specific microaggressions experienced by Asian American women, though the racial element of the book didn’t feel richly explored and stayed on the surface level. Our main character, Frida, is angry at white people at times (totally understandable) yet predominantly dates white men, and this tension isn’t interrogated in any deep way. Overall, ugh, a lot of promise, and I can see why this book is popular, but it didn’t impress me....more
Interesting premise and important commentary about anti-Black racism, state violence, and the prison industrial complex in the United States. I felt aInteresting premise and important commentary about anti-Black racism, state violence, and the prison industrial complex in the United States. I felt a bit confused by the narrative because there were so many characters which made the plot difficult to follow. Still, I appreciate Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah for trying something different even with some themes that have been explored previously in social justice-centered fiction and nonfiction....more
I found Jacqueline Harpman’s execution of her dystopian world believable and compelling. 39 women trapped in an underground cage, with no notion of tiI found Jacqueline Harpman’s execution of her dystopian world believable and compelling. 39 women trapped in an underground cage, with no notion of time or how they got there. We follow the 40th prisoner, a young girl who sits outcast in the corner until their group of 40 escapes into the aboveground strange world that awaits them.
Harpman’s writing made the events in this book feel scary and important. Her prose is ominous, sparse yet vivid enough to create a satisfyingly creepy atmosphere. Harpman raises interesting questions here: what would a world without men look like? What makes life meaningful when we strip our day-to-day existence to the bare minimum? To what extent can relationships with others satisfy us even in situations of despair?
My only disappointment of the novel was that I felt like it didn’t make enough of a point for me to feel fully content with how it ended. It’s open-ended, perhaps intentionally so, though I interpreted that open-endedness and lack of a more direct message as a kind of copout. Still, I think this book would be fun to discuss with folks, is thought-provoking, and is assured in its execution on the sentence-level....more
Hanya Yanagihara, queen of writing controversial as f*ck books and also of breaking my heart. When I finished part three of To Paradise 30 minutes agoHanya Yanagihara, queen of writing controversial as f*ck books and also of breaking my heart. When I finished part three of To Paradise 30 minutes ago I literally lied down on the floor of my apartment and stared at the ceiling because I felt so, so amazed by this section of the book. While I found the quality of Yanagihara’s prose incredible throughout all the book’s sections, unfortunately other aspects of part one and part two either fell flat or outright offended me. To assign a rating of each section of To Paradise, I’m thinking: part one: 3 stars, part two: 1 star, part three: 5 stars. I’ll give my reaction to each section below followed by overall thoughts on what I’m confident will be a provocative novel for almost all who read it.
Part one takes place in 1893 America, New York, in an alternate world where gay and lesbian folks are free to love whomever they want, at least on the surface. We follow a wealthy man from a distinguished family resist a suitor of comparable means for a charming and impoverished music teacher. I found this section entertaining and frustrating. I felt the alternative, gay and lesbian-friendly society fascinating to explore and Yanagihara’s writing mesmerizing. However, the characterization of our protagonist, David, annoyed the heck out of me. While Yanagihara writes so well that I did feel some basic sympathy for him, he overall baffled me with his passivity, lack of agency, and inability to find any self-worth without the love of a romantic partner. My main reaction after finishing this section: “okay that was pleasant but what was the point of this.”
Part two takes place in 1993 Manhattan besieged by the AIDS pandemic. I’ll be frank: I hated this section of the novel. I almost never give 1 star ratings to books on Goodreads, however if this section of the novel stood on its own I’d give it 1 star without hesitation. The plot follows a young Hawaiian man in a romantic relationship with a rich older white man, and Yanagihara’s construction of their relationship offended me so much. I’m not Hawaiian, so I definitely want to respect actual queer Hawaiian folks’ perspective on this part of the book, though as a queer Vietnamese American man, I felt that she brought to life the worst stereotypes about queer Asian and Pacific Islander men in this section (e.g., we’re passive and submissive, we’re obsessed with white gay men, etc.) Our protagonist in part two is also named David and he turns his back both on his Hawaiian heritage and his female best friend Eden, an Asian woman, for a rich white man who works at the same office as him, for what?? She also includes fatphobic language and an anti-Black description of a Black character in ways that weren’t addressed at all and felt unnecessary. While this section includes some somewhat intriguing reflections on colonization, these themes did not amount to anything substantial enough to merit the oppressive parts. My main reaction after finishing this section: “well that was awful, at least she gave us A Little Life I guess, there’s no way I’m going to give To Paradise more than 2 stars after this mess.”
Part three takes place in 2093 in a world overrun by plagues and governed by totalitarian rule. We witness a renowned scientist’s granddaughter try to navigate life without him, in a society with strict rules about what you can say, think, and feel. This section of To Paradise riveted me, stunned me, and reminded me that Yanagihara is truly the same writer who wrote the tour de force A Little Life. So many amazing elements came together to create magic: this on-the-edge-of-your-seat, I-need-to-turn-the-pages-faster dystopian thriller sense of concern about the granddaughter’s life and wellbeing, the flashbackwards and flashforwards that describe in such rich quality both her life and her grandfather’s life, and the immense love that her grandfather feels for her coupled with his own complicity in oppression and wrongdoing. The epistolary element within this section, in which the grandfather writes to a beloved friend living abroad, worked so freaking well and cemented my love for how Yanagihara cares for and writes about friendship. My main reaction after finishing this section: “I’m going to go lie down on the floor to recover from what just happened to me, also if not for part two I’d give this book four stars as a whole.”
As you can tell from this already 740-word long review, this book elicited so many strong emotions from me. I’m pretty sure Yanagihara can evoke these feelings from me and other readers in large part because of the sheer quality of her prose. She has this way of making you connect so deeply with characters’ feelings and thoughts, such as through noticing the smallest yet most important details about how they interact or speak with other characters, as well as how they feel about themselves. She possesses at top-notch talent for crafting impeccably precise and impeccable sentences that either entrance you to read more or knock the wind out of you (reading the last pages of part three I actually felt like someone had punched me in the stomach in a great way.) There’s a lot of wild stuff that happens in To Paradise, like a reenvisioning of American history and a future envisioning of the world where we’re struck by plague after plague. At the same time she’s still able to center the narrative on the highs and lows of human emotion and relationships: connection and friendship and sex, disconnection and loneliness and death, and how our pasts and systems of power like class and race inextricably affect us.
A lot of books I give 3 stars because I felt that they were fine, like enjoyable though not that riveting or exciting. I give To Paradise 3 stars because I feel so divided by it, like I both loved it and hated it. I wouldn’t necessarily recommend the book, though I also wouldn’t not recommend the book. I loved Yanagihara’s A Little Life because of how Yanagihara captured what it’s like to live with PTSD and to experience both negative and positive relationships. I felt like parts one and two of To Paradise portrayed more of the negative aspects of relationships without much for readers to grab onto and root for, like the characters and their relationships either came across as passive or problematic. However, part three of this book highlighted to me the power and force of human yearning and affection, how these elements of our psyche can do both great harm and great good. As I’m processing while writing this review though, I almost wonder if the structure of this novel represents how maybe sometimes it takes multiple generations of life to pass before someone is able to or at least tries to be able to break cycles of pain and/or trauma. I felt Yanagihara’s repetition of character names effective in proving how emotions of loneliness, longing, and connection persist again and again throughout multiple iterations of the human experience. I do feel like part three built on the momentum of parts one and two and provided richer depth into the burgeoning themes of isolation and interconnection.
I’m gonna go work out so I can restore my body’s sense of equilibrium after this whop of a novel, lol. I’m so curious to read what others think of this one, especially because I’ve felt so appreciative of folks’ responses to my review of A Little Life. Also, I know Yanagihara has received criticism about writing so much from gay men’s perspectives from someone who is not a gay man. While I generally agree with these critiques, I won’t write more about it here because this review is already so long. However, for an #ownvoices queer male of color perspective, I’d also highly recommend the superb novel Tell Me How to Be by Neel Patel which came out late in 2021!...more
This book had an interesting premise and message though the characters left me wanting more. In An Excess Male, Maggie Shen King envisions a China wheThis book had an interesting premise and message though the characters left me wanting more. In An Excess Male, Maggie Shen King envisions a China where due to the One Child Policy, near 40 million men struggle to find wives and women can take multiple husbands. We follow one family where Hann, a gay man, and XX, his disabled brother, are both married to May-ling, who wants to take a third husband, Wei-guo. We follow the fallout that ensues when various members of this arrangement try to resist the oppression enforced upon them by their dictatorial government.
I will start by saying I liked the messages about the heteronormative nuclear family and the pressures related to childbearing in this novel. Are we useful if we aren’t contributing to a nuclear family in some form? Shen King interrogates this question well and explores the consequences of straying from what society expects of us.
That said, I found the characters pretty weakly-drawn in this novel. I felt like they each experienced some form of marginalization, though beyond that lacked richer nuance or depth. An Excess Male also contains an action side plot where I read it and was like… I don’t understand what the point of this is. Also, why was one of the more femme/ostentatious gay men one of the most villainous characters?? Still, I’m looking forward to discussing this book with my Asian American book club....more
An effective novella that conveyed important messages about immigration and refugee-related trauma within just 100 pages. The Black Mirror/dy3.5 stars
An effective novella that conveyed important messages about immigration and refugee-related trauma within just 100 pages. The Black Mirror/dystopian setup felt believable. While I was only able to get so invested with the limited page length, I also don’t think the book would have been better if it were longer. Makes you think about the ways we dehumanize asylum seekers and those who we view as different than ourselves....more
I enjoyed what these short stories had to say about anti-Black racism and consumerism. Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah places us into dystopian worlds and siI enjoyed what these short stories had to say about anti-Black racism and consumerism. Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah places us into dystopian worlds and situations that may seem extreme, though they reflect back the injustices in the United States with chilling accuracy. At the same time, I think these stories prioritized novel concepts over deeper character development and exploring characters’ internal worlds, so they weren’t my favorite even though I see their appeal. I agree with what Jessie said in her review about the stories sometimes being sensationalistic without being sensational. I also found the story “Lark Street” pretty anti-abortion and problematic as a result....more
Unsettling and powerful, like The Road with a Black female protagonist and more BIPOC characters overall. In some ways I dislike using The Road as a cUnsettling and powerful, like The Road with a Black female protagonist and more BIPOC characters overall. In some ways I dislike using The Road as a comparison given that white people’s art is not the standard, and Octavia Butler creates a whole world of her own in Parable of the Sower. First published in 1993, this dystopian novel flashes forward to 2025, when the United States has descended into chaos and what remains includes a country pervaded by disease, war, and chronic water shortages. Lauren Olamina and her family live in one of the rare safe neighborhoods on the outskirts of Los Angeles, where her father, a preacher, and other citizens try to protect one another and form some version of community amidst the darkness of the world. However, when their neighborhood is attacked and Lauren’s family is killed, she ventures out on her own with a few other refugees to try and survive. On their path Lauren imagines a revolutionary idea that may bring forth a new hope for all of humankind.
I liked this novel though it contains a lot of gore, so trigger warning for sexual assault, murder and violence, and brief descriptions of cannibalism. Butler’s prose is sparse and efficient and makes for a straightforward reading experience. I’m most impressed by how much Butler predicted with this novel and the subtle yet meaningful social commentary she weaved in. For example, she incorporates themes related to how the police do not actually help much and oftentimes perpetuate harm, the role of race and racism in people’s chances of survival, the perils of capitalism and worker exploitation, and the power of mutual aid and community trust. While reading Parable of the Sower I felt that Butler came across as well ahead of her time.
I give this novel four stars instead of five because I wanted to feel a bit more immersed in Lauren’s world and her emotions. Perhaps she had to develop some emotional calluses or some internal distance from her trauma to survive, yet I wanted to feel more of that connection with her or even more of that connection between the characters. One of my favorite parts of the novel includes how Lauren’s newfound and growing community come to trust one another amidst this awful world they exist in. At the same time, I wanted to travel a bit more in-depth with certain connections or character so I could really get all in my feelings with them.
Overall recommended to fans of the Gone series by Michael Grant, N.K. Jemisin, or science fiction and books centering BIPOC characters in general. Wish we could have read this one in school though I don’t think my school at least was ready for the content of this novel – its commentary on whiteness and capitalism probably may have challenged people a bit too much.
EDIT 8.5.2020
Okay so I was talking to my bff about Octavia Butler's work on Twitter tonight and realized that the main character of this novel (who starts out as 15 and is 18 by the end of the novel) engages in a sexual and romantic relationship with a 57-year-old man during the course of the book. It's 11:02pm so I don't have the energy to fully analyze or engage in the problematic nature of this, though my bff pointed out Butler has a similar age-gap relationship in her work Fledgling. The main character and this 57-year-old man talk about their age gap and discuss consent and at the same time I wanted to name this relationship given that I don't think I came across any Goodreads reviews that have. ...more
I think this book did a great job of highlighting the horrible consequences of war. Seeing our main character Sarat develop some form of post-traumatiI think this book did a great job of highlighting the horrible consequences of war. Seeing our main character Sarat develop some form of post-traumatic stress disorder as well as her desire for vengeance felt devastating. I appreciate Omar El Akkad showing some glimpse of hope for her and her healing at the end of the novel. While American War is bleak throughout, I can’t blame it too much for that because war is bleak and awful.
Unfortunately I agree with Rachel’s review that the book feels “dull” and “tedious.” I don’t want to be mean but the prose felt flat and even though a lot of intense, jarring events occur in this novel I didn’t get emotionally invested. I also don’t think the author explained in convincing enough detail how this particular dystopian society came about; the novel focuses on the present-day atrocities at the expense of a more fleshed-out backstory that would’ve helped make its social commentary more impactful.
I heard about this novel through an episode of the Throughline podcast from NPR though overall wouldn’t necessarily recommend it....more
I feel so sad giving this book such a low rating because it had so much potential. It follows three female-identifying characters and one male-identifI feel so sad giving this book such a low rating because it had so much potential. It follows three female-identifying characters and one male-identifying character who reside in a world where girls and women have the power to produce electricity and hurt, torture, and kill people. This newfound ability brings about an amalgamation of changes, including political power plays, shifts in male-female relationship dynamics, and the burning question of girls' and women's new place in society. The Power portrays a host of challenging situations and scenes, including sexual assault and political warfare.
This book had so much unfulfilled potential. I love the premise, because it invites so many nuanced questions and discussions within the realm of feminism. What are the implications of empowering women just so they act more like men? As bell hooks writes, patriarchy has no gender, so what happens when one gender (or sex) gains power over their oppressors? What are the psychological benefits and costs of having this power? Unfortunately, these questions are only explored in the most rudimentary of ways in The Power. Instead of using scenes, dialogue, and character development to flesh out this dystopia/utopia and explore these meaningful questions, Naomi Alderman focuses only on portraying violence and shallow character interactions. While violence has a place in this world for sure, the book could have featured so much more. The commentary on gender dynamics, too, mostly took form in pithy one-liners with gender reversals that did not relay much nuance or insight.
My second main disappointment with The Power centers on its characters. They all felt one-note, interchangeable, and lacking in any depth that would motivate us to invest in them. Some of their perspectives felt too long and some felt too short. The pacing and organization of their respective sections made little logical sense. I wish Alderman had focused more on crafting these characters in a more comprehensive way so that readers could better connect to them.
I hate to say this, but I would not recommend this book. If interested in feminist writing, for fiction I would recommend The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood or Kindred by Octavia Butler, and for nonfiction I would recommend Appetites by Caroline Knapp or All About Love and The Will to Change by bell hooks, just to name a few. While I think Alderman aimed for cultural diversity by including a Nigerian character and Moldova as a setting in The Power, this attempt fell flat, similar to the rest of the book. I appreciate Alderman for trying with this concept, at the very least....more
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