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3.71 AVERAGE
3.71 AVERAGE
emotional
reflective
tense
fast-paced
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
This book was so amazing. I loved getting to know each of the women and exploring their motivations for their choices. It is so wonderful to see women that work out what they want despite others telling them they shouldn't be allowed to get it. This is a wicked social commentary on reproductive body rights that I would love to read again and again as the years go by.
I'm struggling with the rating here - one one hand, it's a well-written novel examining the lives of 5 women (4, really) as they struggle with issues of motherhood and independence, and on the other, it feels like the political aspect was completely unnecessary and included because women's-rights-dystopian fiction is all the rage these days. If Zumas had simply left that part out, and had Ro simply unable to afford further insemination/IVF treatments and come up with some other reason she couldn't adopt, nothing truly essential to the novel would have changed. Susan would still have struggled in her marriage, Mattie would still have struggled with her decision to get an abortion, and Gin still would have been arrested on a trumped-up charge.
The good:
Interconnected narratives can get muddied and bloated very quickly, and Zumas handles her with a deft hand, making it clear how everyone is connected but not leaning on those connections or interweaving their arcs unnecessarily.
Ro's extreme struggle with her desire to be a mother and her desire to not be married/involved with anyone was extremely sympathetic, even if I couldn't relate. The pressure society put on women to marry and procreate is unique and inescapable, and we all deal with it in our own ways. Even once our decision is made and set in stone, if it's not an "acceptable" one, there will always be pushback.
Susan's story was incredibly touching and sympathetic.
The bad:
Ro's behavior was inexcusable when she learned of Mattie's pregnancy. Yes, she was under immense pressure and personal stress, but Mattie came to her for help because Ro had been such a fierce advocate against the anti-abortion laws, and for Ro to let her down so profoundly was... disappointing. Of course it makes sense that Ro would wonder if Mattie would give her the baby, but once Mattie already said no and made it clear she didn't want to continue the pregnancy, Ro should have backed off and done what she could to help, instead of trying to convince a young, vulnerable girl to change her mind. She was doing to Mattie exactly what everyone else was doing to her - questioning an already made decision and futilely attempting to change it.
Why didn't Gin give Mattie an abortion when Mattie came to her in the first place? That would have solved it all right there, but instead she lied about not having the ingredients. Gin, really, was the second most extraneous character - while she has her connection to Mattie, nothing she did really had an impact on the overall plot. She was arrested for attempted murder of a grown women, not necessarily the fact that she provides abortions. What effect, then, really, did she have on the plot?
Why didn't Yasmin go to Canada for her abortion? She was rich enough and it was still possible.
I enjoyed the small snippets of Eivør's story that we got, but she was even more extraneous than Gin.
The good:
Interconnected narratives can get muddied and bloated very quickly, and Zumas handles her with a deft hand, making it clear how everyone is connected but not leaning on those connections or interweaving their arcs unnecessarily.
Ro's extreme struggle with her desire to be a mother and her desire to not be married/involved with anyone was extremely sympathetic, even if I couldn't relate. The pressure society put on women to marry and procreate is unique and inescapable, and we all deal with it in our own ways. Even once our decision is made and set in stone, if it's not an "acceptable" one, there will always be pushback.
Susan's story was incredibly touching and sympathetic.
The bad:
Ro's behavior was inexcusable when she learned of Mattie's pregnancy. Yes, she was under immense pressure and personal stress, but Mattie came to her for help because Ro had been such a fierce advocate against the anti-abortion laws, and for Ro to let her down so profoundly was... disappointing. Of course it makes sense that Ro would wonder if Mattie would give her the baby, but once Mattie already said no and made it clear she didn't want to continue the pregnancy, Ro should have backed off and done what she could to help, instead of trying to convince a young, vulnerable girl to change her mind. She was doing to Mattie exactly what everyone else was doing to her - questioning an already made decision and futilely attempting to change it.
Why didn't Gin give Mattie an abortion when Mattie came to her in the first place? That would have solved it all right there, but instead she lied about not having the ingredients. Gin, really, was the second most extraneous character - while she has her connection to Mattie, nothing she did really had an impact on the overall plot. She was arrested for attempted murder of a grown women, not necessarily the fact that she provides abortions. What effect, then, really, did she have on the plot?
Why didn't Yasmin go to Canada for her abortion? She was rich enough and it was still possible.
I enjoyed the small snippets of Eivør's story that we got, but she was even more extraneous than Gin.
I like the characters and writing style of the book, there are gray shades to them, and the stories are compelling. However, the discussion about reproductive rights does not feel very deep.
Dit deed me denken aan Vox. Wel een semi feministische inslag maar zonder dat daar verder diepere gedachten bij hoorden. Wat wel een verbetering ten opzichte van Vox is dat de veranderingen geloofwaardig zijn voor een korte tijdsspanne.
Meestal probeer ik zo min mogelijk te weten voor ik een boek lees. Dat zorgt vaak voor aangename verrassingen maar soms zorgt het voor een teleurstelling. In dit geval had ik niet door dat het vrouw zijn in dit boek honderd procent verbonden is aan het hebben van een baarmoeder. Niet zo revolutionair of in mijn ogen feministisch. Het las als een gemiddelde roman over problemen met het vrouw zijn maar met een heel licht apocalyptisch tintje. Voor mij niets verrassend.
De stemmen in het boek waren ook lastig uit elkaar te houden. Halverwege het hoofdstuk vroeg ik me ineens af wie dit ook alweer precies was. Ik snap ook niet waarom je de namen aan het begin van het hoofdstuk weglaat als je die wel gewoon in de tekst gebruikt. Het was vooral verwarrend en bracht het verhaal in mijn mening niets extra's.
Meestal probeer ik zo min mogelijk te weten voor ik een boek lees. Dat zorgt vaak voor aangename verrassingen maar soms zorgt het voor een teleurstelling. In dit geval had ik niet door dat het vrouw zijn in dit boek honderd procent verbonden is aan het hebben van een baarmoeder. Niet zo revolutionair of in mijn ogen feministisch. Het las als een gemiddelde roman over problemen met het vrouw zijn maar met een heel licht apocalyptisch tintje. Voor mij niets verrassend.
De stemmen in het boek waren ook lastig uit elkaar te houden. Halverwege het hoofdstuk vroeg ik me ineens af wie dit ook alweer precies was. Ik snap ook niet waarom je de namen aan het begin van het hoofdstuk weglaat als je die wel gewoon in de tekst gebruikt. Het was vooral verwarrend en bracht het verhaal in mijn mening niets extra's.
Dear Red Clocks,
I picked you up on the suggestion of a fellow bookstagrammer, and I am really glad I did! Zumas has a fantastic ability to make this future of personhood, and every child deserves two and the pink wall feel so tangible, so imminent in our conservative reality. The way that the four women's lives tied together, the fact that none of thier realities could have existed without the others was moving. It reinforced the sisterhood among women, and the ways we actively tear each other down or build each other up. I enjoyed being inside Maddie and Gin's heads the most, but Sarah and Roe offered thier own unique perspectives on this new reality. While children are not my personal goal in life, experiencing Roe's overwhelming desire to be a mother was illuminating. I loved how she questioned her drive and her motivation behind her desire, instead of simply accepting that women are supposed to be mothers, the end. There was so much more happening behind the events of the story that drove me to listen to you.
I picked you up on the suggestion of a fellow bookstagrammer, and I am really glad I did! Zumas has a fantastic ability to make this future of personhood, and every child deserves two and the pink wall feel so tangible, so imminent in our conservative reality. The way that the four women's lives tied together, the fact that none of thier realities could have existed without the others was moving. It reinforced the sisterhood among women, and the ways we actively tear each other down or build each other up. I enjoyed being inside Maddie and Gin's heads the most, but Sarah and Roe offered thier own unique perspectives on this new reality. While children are not my personal goal in life, experiencing Roe's overwhelming desire to be a mother was illuminating. I loved how she questioned her drive and her motivation behind her desire, instead of simply accepting that women are supposed to be mothers, the end. There was so much more happening behind the events of the story that drove me to listen to you.
I really enjoyed this and the audiobook was fantastic. Every voice was distinct and honestly I think I enjoyed listening to this better than I would have reading it. There are quite a few explicit sections detailing dead animals or butchering of animals which was difficult to hear and I almost skipped an entire chapter because of it. Other than that, I appreciated what this book had to say and I'm glad I read it.
First things first, I feel it would be incorrect to compare this book to The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood, though they almost cover the same ideas. Red Clocks doesn't create a whole new world where everything is miserable. It takes its roots from the present and branches out into a probable and scary future: a future where abortions are illegal, IVF has been outlawed, and only married couples can adopt a kid (Every Child Needs Two), which would make the concept of a "single-parent" a myth. The main characters have goals, play roles and make decisions that go against these rules. Their stories act as answers to the age-old questions surrounding motherhood, identity, and freedom.
One of the many aspects of the book that fascinated me (to such an extent that I tried to stay up all night to finish reading the book) is the brilliance of introducing each of the four MCs to the reader. We learn the names of the characters only once one character meets another. Till then, the characters are referred to as The Biographer, The Wife, The Daughter, The Mender. Eivør is described to the reader via her diary-like entries. More than that, the variety of perspectives on 'what is a woman for?' stimulated me on an intellectual level. We see each character through her own eyes, as well as the eyes of another woman. We understand each woman's struggles in her own words, as well as through another woman's 'grass-is-greener-on-the-other-side' view about it.
Another aspect of the book that I loved (despite the fact that I've been in a reading slump so weird, I've not been able to focus on reading more than one page at a stretch) is the crisp style of writing. Some readers may call it a disjointed style of writing, but I felt it was brief, concise and to-the-point. I also related with The Biographer's habit of making lists (because I also have a diary like that) and The Wife's way of dealing with a bad day- loading up on soft-batch chocolate chip cookies..
Bewarned: Some of the descriptions in this book may gross you out.
All in all, I would say that Red Clocks is a light read, which focuses on a significant and much-debated issue in a gripping way. (Which is a tough balance to achieve!)
One of the many aspects of the book that fascinated me (to such an extent that I tried to stay up all night to finish reading the book) is the brilliance of introducing each of the four MCs to the reader. We learn the names of the characters only once one character meets another. Till then, the characters are referred to as The Biographer, The Wife, The Daughter, The Mender. Eivør is described to the reader via her diary-like entries. More than that, the variety of perspectives on 'what is a woman for?' stimulated me on an intellectual level. We see each character through her own eyes, as well as the eyes of another woman. We understand each woman's struggles in her own words, as well as through another woman's 'grass-is-greener-on-the-other-side' view about it.
Another aspect of the book that I loved (despite the fact that I've been in a reading slump so weird, I've not been able to focus on reading more than one page at a stretch) is the crisp style of writing. Some readers may call it a disjointed style of writing, but I felt it was brief, concise and to-the-point. I also related with The Biographer's habit of making lists (because I also have a diary like that) and The Wife's way of dealing with a bad day- loading up on soft-batch chocolate chip cookies..
Bewarned: Some of the descriptions in this book may gross you out.
All in all, I would say that Red Clocks is a light read, which focuses on a significant and much-debated issue in a gripping way. (Which is a tough balance to achieve!)
challenging
emotional
reflective
medium-paced
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
One of the most brilliant, moving books I've read this year. I cried at the end which is incredibly unusual for me. Within an exacting and cruel legal system, women continue to prove themselves endlessly complex.
It was engaging, but I also got lost a lot, possibly because of some style choices. Most things were tidied up at the end, but it felt like something was missing. On a positive note, I enjoyed the “realness” of the characters and plots.
**Thank you Little, Brown & Company for my free final copy in exchange for my review. All opinions are my own.**
“Which (the disbelief) was stupid. She knew – it was her job as a teacher of history to know – how many horrors are legitimated in public daylight, against the will of most of the people.”
Imagine a country where women no longer have a say in what they can do with their own bodies. They can’t consent to an abortion, they can’t get in-vitro fertilization, and if they’re not married, they can’t decide to adopt a child. Sounds like one of “those” places far, far away from America, right?
In Leni Zumas’ latest novel, Red Clocks, this is actually the reality for all women living in the United States. The Constitution has been ratified to criminalize all such behavior, and the future looks so very grim.
Suddenly, all women’s behavior looks totally suspect. It seems like one would have to live always looking over her shoulder – waiting for the law to prosecute her under some obscure violation. Nowhere is safe; everybody is watching. It’s bleak and grim; ultimately, it feels very hopeless.
What made this novel so great is Zumas’ ability to present five women who are affected by this law in very different ways. It’s so easy to think about our own personal situations and how we would be affected if this imaginary world was, in fact, reality. However, Zumas expertly weaves five different perspectives into a powerful narrative that forces the reader to feel empathy and compassion for each scenario.
Sometimes these laws that are debated by our elected officials seem so irrelevant to us as regular citizens; it isn’t until the law is actually passed that we realize the impact it actually has on us as individuals. Many fall into the trapped way of thinking, “Oh, that doesn’t affect me because (**insert various excuses here**)” but this book masterfully showed why decisions have a way of impacting ALL OF US.
For example, maybe you’re a man and you think an abortion law means nothing to your personal freedoms. But what happens when your wife can’t get pregnant and you desperately want a baby? (Granted, in this novel, if you’re married, you still have another option not available to a single woman.) Or would if your daughter ends up pregnant and you know she is not in a place to become a mother at such a young age? If you think the best thing is to have an abortion? Sadly, in this novel, that choice isn’t up to you.
To me, this isn’t a discussion about whether or not abortion/IVF/adoption should be legal or not. It’s about how far we’re (as a country) willing to let the government make decisions for us. One of the founding principles of this country was freedom – freedom from tyranny and dictatorship. As a nation, we’re seeing various issues coming up for discussion that, I, for one, have taken for granted. I’m guilty of that “that will never happen/if it does happen, it won’t be that bad” mentality, so a book like this is a call to action to really examine our personal thoughts and beliefs to determine which of those are worth fighting to preserve. I don’t think we want to be caught in a situation like the book presents only to realize we should have started fighting long before it’s too late.
“Which (the disbelief) was stupid. She knew – it was her job as a teacher of history to know – how many horrors are legitimated in public daylight, against the will of most of the people.”
Imagine a country where women no longer have a say in what they can do with their own bodies. They can’t consent to an abortion, they can’t get in-vitro fertilization, and if they’re not married, they can’t decide to adopt a child. Sounds like one of “those” places far, far away from America, right?
In Leni Zumas’ latest novel, Red Clocks, this is actually the reality for all women living in the United States. The Constitution has been ratified to criminalize all such behavior, and the future looks so very grim.
Suddenly, all women’s behavior looks totally suspect. It seems like one would have to live always looking over her shoulder – waiting for the law to prosecute her under some obscure violation. Nowhere is safe; everybody is watching. It’s bleak and grim; ultimately, it feels very hopeless.
What made this novel so great is Zumas’ ability to present five women who are affected by this law in very different ways. It’s so easy to think about our own personal situations and how we would be affected if this imaginary world was, in fact, reality. However, Zumas expertly weaves five different perspectives into a powerful narrative that forces the reader to feel empathy and compassion for each scenario.
Sometimes these laws that are debated by our elected officials seem so irrelevant to us as regular citizens; it isn’t until the law is actually passed that we realize the impact it actually has on us as individuals. Many fall into the trapped way of thinking, “Oh, that doesn’t affect me because (**insert various excuses here**)” but this book masterfully showed why decisions have a way of impacting ALL OF US.
For example, maybe you’re a man and you think an abortion law means nothing to your personal freedoms. But what happens when your wife can’t get pregnant and you desperately want a baby? (Granted, in this novel, if you’re married, you still have another option not available to a single woman.) Or would if your daughter ends up pregnant and you know she is not in a place to become a mother at such a young age? If you think the best thing is to have an abortion? Sadly, in this novel, that choice isn’t up to you.
To me, this isn’t a discussion about whether or not abortion/IVF/adoption should be legal or not. It’s about how far we’re (as a country) willing to let the government make decisions for us. One of the founding principles of this country was freedom – freedom from tyranny and dictatorship. As a nation, we’re seeing various issues coming up for discussion that, I, for one, have taken for granted. I’m guilty of that “that will never happen/if it does happen, it won’t be that bad” mentality, so a book like this is a call to action to really examine our personal thoughts and beliefs to determine which of those are worth fighting to preserve. I don’t think we want to be caught in a situation like the book presents only to realize we should have started fighting long before it’s too late.