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A review by mayaviiv
The Cleft by Doris Lessing
1.0
I rarely, if ever, DNF a book (no matter how much I hate reading it!) so imagine my horrified surprise when my only DNF of 2023 was a multiple award-nominated book by the iconic author of “Memoirs of a Survivor”, which I think changed the fabric of my brain forever. After the sheer impact that “Memoirs” had on me I figured Lessing could do no wrong but I regret to inform you all that she did major wrong with “The Cleft.”
I could not make it past page 146. This book is not to my taste *at all* and I really question what your taste would have to be to enjoy it. It’s basically supposed to be a satirical rumination on the nature of heterosexual relationships and the gritty specifics of cisgender identity, so you can probably see why my lesbian self would be bored at the outset. But the thing is that the satire barely registers, let alone comes across as clever or entertaining. It reads like it’s The Heterosexual Manifesto (TERF Edition). It reads like a drunken Reddit post speed-typed by a guy with an untrimmed beard and an arsenal of “misunderstood” hot takes about “females”. HOW can this be a Doris Lessing book? I just don’t understand. I feel deeply betrayed, like how are you gonna be one of the most legendary canonical Western modernists (lauded as an icon of literary feminism!!) and produce this absolute garbage??? HOW??
I just… I wish I had never set eyes on this evil tome and I wish even more that I hadn’t bought it. This could have been a cathartic library return but now I’m gonna have to get on the bus to hand it off to consignment. I suppose that’s what I get for being uncritically starry-eyed about “Memoirs.” Seriously, do not read this book. Life is short and fragile already without having to suffer through a couple hundred pages of penis synonyms and insufferable narration by a fictional woman-hating ancient Roman scholar. Please, please just watch the Barbie movie instead.
I could not make it past page 146. This book is not to my taste *at all* and I really question what your taste would have to be to enjoy it. It’s basically supposed to be a satirical rumination on the nature of heterosexual relationships and the gritty specifics of cisgender identity, so you can probably see why my lesbian self would be bored at the outset. But the thing is that the satire barely registers, let alone comes across as clever or entertaining. It reads like it’s The Heterosexual Manifesto (TERF Edition). It reads like a drunken Reddit post speed-typed by a guy with an untrimmed beard and an arsenal of “misunderstood” hot takes about “females”. HOW can this be a Doris Lessing book? I just don’t understand. I feel deeply betrayed, like how are you gonna be one of the most legendary canonical Western modernists (lauded as an icon of literary feminism!!) and produce this absolute garbage??? HOW??
I just… I wish I had never set eyes on this evil tome and I wish even more that I hadn’t bought it. This could have been a cathartic library return but now I’m gonna have to get on the bus to hand it off to consignment. I suppose that’s what I get for being uncritically starry-eyed about “Memoirs.” Seriously, do not read this book. Life is short and fragile already without having to suffer through a couple hundred pages of penis synonyms and insufferable narration by a fictional woman-hating ancient Roman scholar. Please, please just watch the Barbie movie instead.