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A review by melbellevie
Thirteen by Richard K. Morgan
1.0
This is solidly a four-star story, at least in concept. Social implications of genetically altered humanity, the scientific "evolution" of the species for extra-planetary colonization, even this notion of "de-virilification" an what it would mean for humanity had so much potential. But it falls on its face with the (at best) tropeish and (at worst) outright misogynistic treatment of women in this book.
The first time I read about the future of women's bras I gave it no more attention than I did to the fact that we've done away with buttons and zippers. The fourth time I read about them, I started designing a drinking game around the authors fixation, and by the 500th page when I knew in great detail how women of the future would be applying and removing their undergarments and still had no clarity as to whether men of the future would be wearing them at all, I had written this book off as some run of the mill wish-fulfillment alpha-male fantasy masquerading behind an interesting concept.
The book does not pass the Bechdel test, which, given its length, is pure laziness. No woman makes an appearance in the novel without at least a cursory description of her breasts. The most interesting female character's major motivations are so cliched I found my eyes glazing over and yet the book does not even do her the service of resolving them-- as a character she serves only as a means to motivate Our Hero to ever-increasing feats of violence and inner-monologue. Oh-- and to passive-aggressively chastise him for his prowess with other women, because women are so crazy, amiright?
I'd say give this one a hard pass.
The first time I read about the future of women's bras I gave it no more attention than I did to the fact that we've done away with buttons and zippers. The fourth time I read about them, I started designing a drinking game around the authors fixation, and by the 500th page when I knew in great detail how women of the future would be applying and removing their undergarments and still had no clarity as to whether men of the future would be wearing them at all, I had written this book off as some run of the mill wish-fulfillment alpha-male fantasy masquerading behind an interesting concept.
The book does not pass the Bechdel test, which, given its length, is pure laziness. No woman makes an appearance in the novel without at least a cursory description of her breasts. The most interesting female character's major motivations are so cliched I found my eyes glazing over and yet the book does not even do her the service of resolving them-- as a character she serves only as a means to motivate Our Hero to ever-increasing feats of violence and inner-monologue. Oh-- and to passive-aggressively chastise him for his prowess with other women, because women are so crazy, amiright?
I'd say give this one a hard pass.