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A review by trike
Man-Eaters, Vol. 1 by Chelsea Cain
3.0
This is a broad satire (pun? What pun?) on the level of Robocop. The concept is genius, but the story is a bit thin. Most of this book is devoted to worldbuilding with ads, government info sheets, and an ersatz magazine extolling the dangers of girl cooties. That stuff is cool and on point, but I was left wanting more story.
We are currently living in an era where women’s rights are being dismantled piecemeal, state by state, country by country. Religious extremists have taken over the conservative party in America, and they are systematically demonizing women while simultaneously undoing the programs which actually solve the problems they rail against. In light of this stuff, a book like this is necessary counter-programming.
On a personal level, I enjoyed this small moment:
My name is Doug, and my last name lends itself to the nickname “Trick”. Everyone with my surname ends up being called Trick. Back in the 1970s I was at my cousin Richie’s baseball game with my brother and a bunch of my relatives. I was sitting on the top bench of the bleachers when someone shouted out, “Hey, Trick!” I watched as the entire group turned their heads as one and replied, “What?” That day I started insisting people call me Trike, after the alternate pronunciation of my name. And so I’ve been ever since.
We are currently living in an era where women’s rights are being dismantled piecemeal, state by state, country by country. Religious extremists have taken over the conservative party in America, and they are systematically demonizing women while simultaneously undoing the programs which actually solve the problems they rail against. In light of this stuff, a book like this is necessary counter-programming.
On a personal level, I enjoyed this small moment:
My name is Doug, and my last name lends itself to the nickname “Trick”. Everyone with my surname ends up being called Trick. Back in the 1970s I was at my cousin Richie’s baseball game with my brother and a bunch of my relatives. I was sitting on the top bench of the bleachers when someone shouted out, “Hey, Trick!” I watched as the entire group turned their heads as one and replied, “What?” That day I started insisting people call me Trike, after the alternate pronunciation of my name. And so I’ve been ever since.