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A review by tjr
The Year of the Flood by Margaret Atwood
2.0
Well I’m glad to have this novel finished. It was a chore to read, and very obscure—not at all like its predecessor Oryx and Crake. The point-of-view from which it is told continually shifts, and the way time moves forward and backwards is enough to throw even the most astute readers off. Also, the way that the characters are portrayed makes it impossible to tell them apart. One is always trying to figure out who the hell is talking, and why. Fortunately the novel sort of picks up near the end, and kind of redeems itself. Sort of.
I also found it preachy, thus ruining any sense of artistic merit. Atwood would deftly create an image or scene that would just work in its own little way, only to lambaste me with what it really means by spelling out the metaphors and symbolism. Every single time. Like the readers are dumb. Or something. What a bummer.
The Year of the Flood is a real dud in my opinion, probably the worst Atwood book I’ve read to date. I’m glad I borrowed it and didn’t spend any hard-earned money on it.
I also found it preachy, thus ruining any sense of artistic merit. Atwood would deftly create an image or scene that would just work in its own little way, only to lambaste me with what it really means by spelling out the metaphors and symbolism. Every single time. Like the readers are dumb. Or something. What a bummer.
The Year of the Flood is a real dud in my opinion, probably the worst Atwood book I’ve read to date. I’m glad I borrowed it and didn’t spend any hard-earned money on it.