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A review by electricshe
Women Talking by Miriam Toews
challenging
dark
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? N/A
- Diverse cast of characters? N/A
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.5
Absolutely gripping. The weight of what’s happened to these women, as well as the decision before them, falls like an immediate weight on your shoulders. Yet the crimes are described only to give context to characters’ motivations, and only when necessary. The point—which shines tremendously—is the women talking, thinking, arguing, and working together (even when they are at odds) to understand what is right for them. It’s an incredible single-setting story with characters who are all reasonable and relatable (as well as often quite likeable) but still differently-minded on how to approach the choices in front of them. I’ve never read such an expertly balanced and poignant cast of characters.
Some people don’t like the male narrator character, August, as they feel his perspective and character arc take away from the female voice, I guess. But I think he’s important. This part may get a bit spoilery, so stop here if you like. He is a useful contrast both to the women and the other more traditional men of the colony. Rather than feeling like his narration muddied the women’s voices, I felt like he creates a layer of removal from the women that is necessary for the reader to have—since we don’t know them, really—and views the proceedings with a sort of sacredness and deference. He also acts as a bridge for the reader to enter this world that many of us know little about, since he is something of an outsider himself.
You can see his constant thoughts about Ona, his relation of their asides, his overall meekness and awkwardness, and his odd anecdotes as all very off-putting. So that on one hand the women are contending with brutal and powerful men and on the other a pathetically self-pitying one. One wonders, when Ona has been raped, is pregnant, and is facing the very serious decision of whether to uproot herself from the only life she’s ever known, how she could possibly be entertaining this chemistry he feels between them. I don’t think she really is, personally. But maybe she is. Because these women—all women—have the capacity to be angry, to take action, to laugh despite horrors, to love even in hardship, and to be caring even when they themselves are in need of care. It doesn’t take away from her character if she does have affection for this man who, despite being odd, is not disparaging, patronising, cruel, or treacherous. He can’t help being the main character of his own life, he can’t help loving a woman who is good and kind. What I think is powerful about his position as the narrator of the story beyond all that is that he doesn’t matter. His own revelations and growth aren’t earth-shattering (or even revealed) to the women, and their story continues without him. Whether or not Ona loves him, her path is not about him.
Some people don’t like the male narrator character, August, as they feel his perspective and character arc take away from the female voice, I guess. But I think he’s important. This part may get a bit spoilery, so stop here if you like. He is a useful contrast both to the women and the other more traditional men of the colony. Rather than feeling like his narration muddied the women’s voices, I felt like he creates a layer of removal from the women that is necessary for the reader to have—since we don’t know them, really—and views the proceedings with a sort of sacredness and deference. He also acts as a bridge for the reader to enter this world that many of us know little about, since he is something of an outsider himself.
You can see his constant thoughts about Ona, his relation of their asides, his overall meekness and awkwardness, and his odd anecdotes as all very off-putting. So that on one hand the women are contending with brutal and powerful men and on the other a pathetically self-pitying one. One wonders, when Ona has been raped, is pregnant, and is facing the very serious decision of whether to uproot herself from the only life she’s ever known, how she could possibly be entertaining this chemistry he feels between them. I don’t think she really is, personally. But maybe she is. Because these women—all women—have the capacity to be angry, to take action, to laugh despite horrors, to love even in hardship, and to be caring even when they themselves are in need of care. It doesn’t take away from her character if she does have affection for this man who, despite being odd, is not disparaging, patronising, cruel, or treacherous. He can’t help being the main character of his own life, he can’t help loving a woman who is good and kind. What I think is powerful about his position as the narrator of the story beyond all that is that he doesn’t matter. His own revelations and growth aren’t earth-shattering (or even revealed) to the women, and their story continues without him. Whether or not Ona loves him, her path is not about him.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Misogyny
Moderate: Rape, Child abuse, and Pedophilia