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A review by pineconek
Moi qui n'ai pas connu les hommes by Jacqueline Harpman
challenging
dark
mysterious
reflective
sad
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
5.0
(Lu en francais mais la revue est ecrite en anglais)
I knew I'd love this, and I did indeed love this.
The book is told from the perspective of an unnamed narrator, who lives in a large cage with 39 other women. The cage is surrounded by halls patrolled by guards who do not interact with the women other than providing them with food or threatening them with whips. Our narrator is the only child in this setting, and does not remember a time before the cage. The women around her do, but don't see the point of telling her about it.
Until one day, of course, they all leave the cage.
What follows is a bleak story of survival and existential angst. Human life is stripped down to the barest of bones, and an already shaky will to live is put further to the test. Our narrator doesn't have explanations for why her world is the way that it is - and neither do we. We witness all the events of the book through this frustrating, lonely, and claustrophobic perspective.
I don't really know what else to tell you about this book. The word "cyclical" is coming up for me, along with "interrupted cycles". The sense of cycles emerges from mentions of gardening, repeated settings, and our narrators life (in and outside of the cage), but the cycle of humanity, human civilization, human legacy... is starkly interrupted. I think I'm still figuring this book out, but it's one that will stay with me for a long time.
Recommended if you're interested in bleak existential stories, are ok with the mechanics of the world remaining largely unexplained, and want a book that will leave you staring off into space for a long time thinking "what the actual f-". 5 stars, obviously.
I knew I'd love this, and I did indeed love this.
The book is told from the perspective of an unnamed narrator, who lives in a large cage with 39 other women. The cage is surrounded by halls patrolled by guards who do not interact with the women other than providing them with food or threatening them with whips. Our narrator is the only child in this setting, and does not remember a time before the cage. The women around her do, but don't see the point of telling her about it.
Until one day, of course, they all leave the cage.
What follows is a bleak story of survival and existential angst. Human life is stripped down to the barest of bones, and an already shaky will to live is put further to the test. Our narrator doesn't have explanations for why her world is the way that it is - and neither do we. We witness all the events of the book through this frustrating, lonely, and claustrophobic perspective.
I don't really know what else to tell you about this book. The word "cyclical" is coming up for me, along with "interrupted cycles". The sense of cycles emerges from mentions of gardening, repeated settings, and our narrators life (in and outside of the cage), but the cycle of humanity, human civilization, human legacy... is starkly interrupted. I think I'm still figuring this book out, but it's one that will stay with me for a long time.
Recommended if you're interested in bleak existential stories, are ok with the mechanics of the world remaining largely unexplained, and want a book that will leave you staring off into space for a long time thinking "what the actual f-". 5 stars, obviously.