The Weight of Our Sky by Hanna Alkaf

 

The next prompt in the StoryGraph Onboarding Reading Challenge was to read a book that I found on their community page. I was hoping to see a book on there that I already owned, but I didn't see any of those when I looked. So instead, I scrolled down until I found something that looked interesting. I ended up with The Weight of Our Sky by Hanna Alkaf. I hadn't heard of this young adult historical fiction novel before, but I was intrigued by its setting in 1960s Malaysia. I had never read anything set in that time or place, so I decided to give it a try.

The story follows a sixteen year old Malay girl named Melati who lives in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. It is 1969 and she spends most of her days going to school, watching movies with her best friend and listening to her extensive record collection. She is hiding a secret deep inside herself however--she has OCD. She can't stop counting things in head, tapping items, and walking certain amounts of steps. She believes that there is a djinn living inside her, making her enact these rituals. If she doesn't obey, she is afraid that the djinn will kill her mother, so she does whatever counting tasks he demands. As her efforts to seek medical help for this in the past were not successful, she tries to conceal her struggles from everyone. Each day she hides a long, frantic routine of counting and worrying underneath her (mostly) cool exterior.  

However, Melati's careful balancing act is thrown into disarray when tensions between the Malays and Chinese in her city erupt into a violent race riot. Melati is away from home when the dangers strikes, and a police-enforced curfew and several downed phone lines prevent her from contacting her mother. All of her anxieties bubble up to the surface and the djinn inside her kicks into overdrive. She constantly imagines her mother dying in various horrible ways, and her counting and tapping become noticeable to others. In order to make her way back home across a city destroyed by violence and reconnect with her mom, Melati must find a way to quiet the djinn inside of her and show greater courage than she's ever had to before.

This novel's strong point was its historical setting. I had never heard of the 1969 race riots in Malaysia before now, and I appreciated how this book opened my eyes to what happened back then. I also enjoyed Alkaf's descriptions of life in Kuala Lumpur. The city really comes to life in her pages, and the destruction caused by the riots is all the more heartbreaking for it.

Melati's character was also very strong. Her struggle with OCD was explained well and felt integral to the story. By writing the disorder as a djinn, Alkaf effectively made it another person that Melati interacted with. The djinn's constant prodding to count, tap, and step in certain ways was very intrusive and did an excellent job of conveying how much Melati was suffering. I don't have any experience with OCD, so I can't tell for sure, but it felt like an accurate depiction. 

Where I thought the story was a little bit weaker was towards the last third of the book. Eventually, the whole plot just becomes Melati running from one place to another, dodging gunfire and other violence in an effort to find her mom. It started feeling repetitive, which sounds strange because these are obviously not boring events, but it was just a lot of the same type of things happening. This wasn't a big enough issue to seriously impact my overall enjoyment of the story though.  

The Weight of Our Sky was a quick and emotional read with good representation. Its exploration of mental illness and its inclusion of a piece of history many readers won't know make it unique and worth taking a look at. I didn't form a deep attachment to it, but I did learn quite a bit from it. I'm glad that StoryGraph randomly steered me in its direction. 

Challenge Tally

StoryGraph Onboarding 2020 Challenge: 10/12

Total Books Read in 2020: 85

The Familiars by Stacey Halls

For my next read, I decided to carry on with my StoryGraph Onboarding Challenge. My next prompt was to "read a book that you find using the filter that has two moods attached and excludes a genre." After a little consideration, I set the site's filters to find me a dark and emotional book that was not a fantasy. I had been noticing that a lot of my recommendations leaned in the fantasy direction (which makes since, given my usual preferences) and I wanted to see what else StoryGraph thought I might like. It gave me The Familiars by Stacey Hall. I'd never heard of this historical fiction novel before, but its summary sounded interesting enough to give it a try. Curious to see if this would actually be a good recommendation for me, I got started.

The novel is set in England in the year 1612. A young noblewoman named Fleetwood Shuttleworth is pregnant, and quite worried. She's had several miscarriages in the past and is desperate to bring a child to term. Her husband Richard is longing for an heir and she feels as if she's failing in her fundamental duty as a wife. To make matters worse, Fleetwood recently found a letter in her husband's papers from her doctor containing disturbing news. The doctor believes that Fleetwood won't survive another pregnancy.  Richard never chose to share this with her, leaving her hurt at the idea that her husband places producing an heir over her own safety and health. As a result, there's quite a bit of tension in the air, which is only exacerbated by recent accusations of witchcraft that have swept through her village. Claims have been made against several women and many arrests have taken place. An unsettled and spooky feeling has pervaded the town, leaving everyone on edge.

One morning, on a walk through the woods on her property, Fleetwood meets a curious young woman named Alice Grey. Alice is a midwife, and after she proves her medical skill, Fleetwood is convinced that she is the best person to help her deliver a healthy baby. She agrees to help Fleetwood, but their arrangement is thrown into disarray when Alice is later accused of witchcraft and taken away to prison. Concerned for the lives of her baby, herself, and her new friend, Fleetwood sets out to do all she can to clear Alice's name, even if that means breaking all conventions and putting herself and her marriage at risk to do so.

This story is set against the backdrop of the real Pendle Hill Witch Trials, and many of the characters are based on actual people from that time. Fleetwood and Alice are both actual names that Halls pulled from the historical record, although their words and actions in the story are entirely fictional. Records from this time period are sparse, so The Familiars takes a lot of artistic liberties. It does, however get a lot of information about witchcraft accusations and trials right. I was reminded of Stacy Schiff's The Witches, which I read back in October; while that novel was set in Salem, a lot of the details were similar. It was cool to see history blend into the fictional story. I think Halls did a good job in that respect.

Overall, I was consistently entertained while reading, although I did feel like the pacing was a bit slow at times. I also couldn't stand Fleetwood's husband Roger. His behavior throughout the story was pretty awful and I never felt like he truly got what he deserved. I found myself wishing there was more of a romantic storyline to enjoy as well. Something about reading historical fiction makes me want a strong love interest, and that wasn't part of this story. Of course, that's more of a personal preference than a criticism of the book. It is true though that I struggled to find a relationship among the characters that I truly felt invested in. Fleetwood and Alice's friendship was okay, but it was a bit rushed. Aside from those small issues though, this was a solid book and I enjoyed it. I'm finding that I don't have much to say beyond that. It was good.

As far as the StoryGraph aspect of the challenge goes, I think its filters did do a good job of giving me what I asked for. The Familiars was dark and emotional, and it wasn't a fantasy story. I will definitely be able to use the website to help me find recommendations for mood reading in the future, so I'm glad I gave this prompt a try.

Challenge Tally

StoryGraph Onboarding 2020 Challenge: 9/12

Total Books Read in 2020: 84

Back to the Classics 2021 - Sign Up Post

 

The Back to the Classics Challenge is back for another year! I adore this challenge and I'm so happy to be able to participate again. This will be my seventh year taking part, which sounds crazy to me. How is that even possible? I must be getting old.

Anyway, the categories are really fun this year and most of them match up with books I already planned to read for my Classics Club list anyway. Here's my plan:

1. A 19th century classic: Under the Greenwood Tree by Thomas Hardy (1872)

I went through a phase many years ago where I bought up all the Thomas Hardy books they sold at Borders (that's how long ago it was). I read some of his work before my blogging days, and I read Jude the Obscure for this challenge in 2019. I generally enjoy his writing, so I'm interested to give another of his novels a try.

2. A 20th century classic: To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf (1927)

I have never read a novel by Virginia Woolf, and I know nothing at all about her writing. I feel like I need to change this!

3. A classic by a woman author: Daniel Deronda by George Eliot (1876)

I read George Eliot's Silas Marner in high school and The Mill on the Floss in college. I read Middlemarch before I started blogging. I've liked everything I've read from her so far, so I am excited to try another of her novels.

4. A classic in translation: Les Misérables by Victor Hugo (1862)

I've wanted to read this book ever since I listened to the soundtrack of the musical version in high school. I'm excited to finally get to it this year, but I'm worried about the length. My version has 1,232 pages!

5. A classic by BIPOC author: Iola Leroy: Shadows Uplifted by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper (1892)

I almost made a big mistake in this category - I originally picked Love in the Time of Cholera, completely overlooking that fact that it wasn't old enough to quality for this challenge. Luckily, Jennifer, another blogger, caught my mistake and was kind enough to let me know. I am so grateful for her help! Anyway, after that, I realized that I didn't have any books left on my Classics Club list that suited this category, so I did a little research and ended up with this novel, which I hadn't heard of before now. It's one of the first novels published by an African American woman, which immediately caught my interest.

6. A classic by a new-to-you author: Main Street by Sinclair Lewis (1920)

This is another book that I don't know much about, but I remember reading a very positive review for it on the Books and Chocolate blog. Hopefully I will enjoy it as much as Karen did.

7. New-to-you classic by a favorite author:  Our Mutual Friend by Charles Dickens (1894)

I've read a handful of books from Charles Dickens and consider him to be one of my favorite authors. I have no idea what this novel is about, but I do remember that my 19th Century British literature professor considered this to be his best work. I wonder if I will agree.

8. A classic about an animal, or with an animal in the title: The Song of the Lark by Willa Cather (1915)

I read O Pioneers! for this challenge earlier this year and I mostly enjoyed it. Since the title of this second book in Cather's Great Plains Trilogy matches the prompt so well, I figured I'd continue on with the series in 2021.

9. A children's classic: The Little White Horse by Elizabeth Goudge (1946)

I love reading classic children's literature, but I'm starting to run out of books I haven't read in this genre. I'm trying to read from my own shelves for the most part next year, so I decided to try this book that I found at a used bookstore last year.

10. A humorous or satirical classic: Vanity Fair by William Makepeace Thackeray (1847-1848)

This is another classic that I've had on my radar forever but never got around to actually reading. Its length, much like Les Misérables, is intimidating, so I'm hoping it won't feel too monotonous.

11. A travel or adventure classic (fiction or non-fiction): From the Earth to the Moon by Jules Verne (1865)

For the past several years, I have started out my reading in January with a Jules Verne novel. This will be my pick to kick off 2021.

12. A classic play: Hamlet by William Shakespeare (c. 1600)

I have three plays by Shakespeare left on my Classics Club list that would have worked for this prompt. I decided to go with Hamlet because its probably his most famous work and I've never read it. It's finally time to give it a try.

This is probably my most ambitious lineup ever, because so many of these books are long. I don't really have a choice though, because I'm heading into my last year of the Classics Club Challenge, and most of these books are part of that list too. I'm hoping that I don't struggle too much with the longer ones - I'm confident that I can finish them - it's the boredom I'm worried about! Reading the classics is great, but there's always a certain amount of monotony that comes along with it (at least for me). I hope that I find them entertaining enough so that the reading process doesn't take too long.

The Testaments by Margaret Atwood

When a sequel is released for an old, classic work, it's always a risky read. It's exciting to see more of the characters and plot points from a book you loved long ago, but there's always the chance that the newer work will lack the same magic of the original. After being dismayed by Harper Lee's Go Set a Watchman last month, I was a little nervous to head into The Testaments, Margaret Atwood's sequel to The Handmaid's Tale. I really wanted to give it a shot though, so I started my reading hoping for the best.

The story takes place fifteen years after the events of the first book and is narrated from three alternating perspectives. The first is Aunt Lydia's, the tyrannical leader of the Aunts that ruled over the handmaids with an iron fist from the first book. In her sections, she describes her traumatic past during the coup in which the United States fell and her subsequent rise to leadership within the new government. She also records how she is working within that organization now, which involves a lot of schemes and deceptions. 

The next perspective is that of Agnes, a teenager who has grown up as the daughter of a Commander. She's led a privileged life in comparison to most in Gilead, but things take a turn when her mother dies and her father remarries. Her mother brings in a handmaid in order to have a child of her own, and starts the process of marrying Agnes off, in order to get her out of the house. Agnes does not want to marry a strange, adult man, no matter how high his status might be, so she pursues the only feasible avenue of escape - becoming an Aunt. 

The final perspective is Daisy, a teenager growing up in Canada. All throughout her schooling, she's learned about the terrible conditions in Gilead, and has even participated in protests against their government. While she thinks the plight of the women there is terrible, she only views it from a distance. It has nothing to do with her. However, when her parents are involved in a mysterious and deadly accident, she learns that she has more connections to Gilead than she knew. 

As the novel progresses, all three of these women are drawn together into a dangerous and terrible adventure. They have different motivations for their choices, but each has an important role to play and they must work together to further their own agendas and create a future that they believe in.

I really enjoyed this novel, and I'm surprised that I feel this way, because The Testaments is certainly very different from The Handmaids Tale. While the first book in the series is deliberately vague and mysterious, this one is more of a traditional story. A lot of detailed, specific information about Gilead is explained and the multiple narrators reveal many aspects of the plot to the reader before the characters figure them out themselves. It has a very different feel; there is more action here, it is more predictable, and a more complete story is told by the end of the novel. 

While I understand how this would be a big disappointment to some readers, I didn't mind it. I was engaged in the story the whole time I was reading and thought it was well paced, suspenseful, and exciting. I liked learning more details about Gilead, especially in regards to Aunt Lydia, who I thought was the most complex and interesting character in the book. I love a villain with a tragic backstory, so I really enjoyed her sections. The sections featuring Agnes were great too. I thought it was interesting to see the perspective of someone inside the privileged class who had grown up there. Agnes didn't have memories of a life before in America, so she believed a lot of the religious doctrine used to oppress women there. She has to struggle through those beliefs to make sense of the abuses she sees throughout the story. Daisy was the character I was probably the least interested in, just because she had less to do with Gilead, but I didn't dislike her narration. Overall, this was a good reading experience for me.

I'm sure a lot of people don't like the ending of this novel, but I appreciated it. It wasn't what I was expecting at all - it wasn't a twist ending. In fact, maybe it was the lack of one that I was surprised by. I won't spoil it here, but I did like it (probably more than I should have).

So, it turns out that I didn't have to be nervous at all. I ended up really enjoying this sequel. It definitely felt different than the first and was written in a very different way. I don't think that needs to be a fault in this case, because the resulting novel was still really entertaining for me. It didn't top the original, but it was still a good time. That being said, if you are expecting something as dark, political, and foreboding at The Handmaid's Tale, you might be disappointed here. If you can enjoy this as a different story set in the same world, then you might enjoy it like I did. 

On a side note, with this novel, I have completed all the match ups in my Then Versus Now Challenge!

Challenge Tally

Then vs. Now: 27/27 - Completed!

Total Books Read in 2020: 83

The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood

I first read The Handmaid's Tale when I was in high school, and I remember being blown away by it. It was probably the darkest, most grownup book I had read up until that point and I realized that I was reading something special and important. When the sequel came out to it last year, I knew I wanted to read it, but I also knew that I would have to reread Handmaid's Tale again first - too much time had passed since my first time and I had a sneaking suspicion that my teenage brain didn't fully absorb everything Atwood was trying to say anyway. My Then Versus Now Challenge gave me the perfect reason to pick it up again.

The novel is set in a dytopian future where the birthrate has plummeted. Environmental pollution has left many completely sterile and causes many miscarriages and birth defects among those that are able to conceive. In the stress and turmoil of this situation, America was overthrown in a coup and reformed as the nation of Gilead. The new nation is intensely religious and has stripped women of all their rights. They are no longer able to have a job, or a bank account, and are not allowed to read. They are under the authority of their husbands and the punishment for disobedience is severe. 

The story follows Offred, a woman living as a handmaid in this world. She was once apprehended trying to escape from Gilead into Canada, and as punishment, she must now serve the Commander and his wife. Handmaids serve as surrogates for prominent families that are unable to conceive. Each month, the Commander attempts to impregnate Offred. If she conceives and delivers a healthy baby, that baby will belong to the Commander and his wife. Offred will then be assigned to another family and start the process all over again. She has no freedom and must follow all of the strict rules associated with her position. It's a difficult and lonely life.

After Offred has been in the household for a little while, both the Commander and his wife begin making dangerous requests of her. The Commander starts meeting alone with her in his study at night, which is strictly forbidden by law. His wife, Serena, fearing the Commander is sterile, encourages her to find another man to impregnate her, which is also illegal. Offred must try to balance their requests and keep herself out of trouble, which becomes increasingly difficult as the story progresses and the Commander and Serena become more forward with their demands. She is torn between everyone's competing desires, including her own, and must decide which path to take.

This novel is incredibly chilling, and I think it has only gotten more effective with age. It's strange to think this, but I feel like the warnings Atwood gives in The Handmaid's Tale hit harder now. One only has to read the news to see the beginnings of a decline - the use of armed force against peaceful protesters , a virus ravaging the world, and a president trying to overturn election results are just the start of the outrages happening these days. It doesn't seem impossible now for something very bad to happen within America, so reading this is extra disturbing in 2020. 

I appreciated Atwood's writing style, which was blunt and fairly simple. Offred's voice effectively conveys her despair and yearning, and she releases details at a good pace. Readers don't learn about Gilead all at once, you learn about it in bits and pieces from Offred's reflections, and each reveal is more horrifying than the last. The world-building is superb and the dark tone is just right for such a grim place. It feels weird to say that I enjoyed a book like this, because the subject matter is so dark, but I did really like it. I think this is a tremendous and important piece of literature.

I'm glad to have reread The Handmaid's Tale, and I think that I definitely got more out of it the second time around. Reading it as an adult brought its subtleties into sharper focus and made its message about the dangers of sexism clear. The horrors of Gilead and Offred's story seem extreme and impossible, but of course, a descent into this kind of world starts small, and sneaks up on you over time. Every law that is passed restricting a woman's rights to her own body and own medical decisions is one more step on a path that could lead to a version of this world. This story shows us the importance of preserving women's freedoms and reinforces the need to protect those freedoms-- to not let small things pile up into something unfathomable under the guise of religion. This is still a favorite novel for me and I'm excited to see how I feel about its sequel, The Testaments, next.

Challenge Tally

Then vs. Now: 26/27

Total Books Read in 2020: 82

Big Brother by Lionel Shriver

 

I first came across Big Brother on my own while looking up books by Lionel Shriver. I was fresh off of my first read of We Need to Talk About Kevin, and I was in that kind of book hangover that makes you swear you are going to read every book a certain author has ever written. Accordingly, I added all of her novels to my Goodreads wish list that day. This one, however, really stood out in my mind as the one I wanted to try next. Of course, I didn't end up getting around to actually reading it back then, but my Then Versus Now Challenge gave me the perfect opportunity to give it a try this year. 

The plot of the novel follows Pandora, a middle aged woman who runs an quirky toy company making novelty dolls for adults. Her business is extremely successful and she enjoys quite a substantial income from it. She lives with her husband Fletcher and her two teenage stepchildren, and her life is mostly a happy one. A small amount of friction comes from Fletcher's new obsession with cycling and dieting. He has become ultra active and healthy, and refuses to eat anything he deems junk food, which is pretty much everything that's not chicken breast, fish, or vegetables. Pandora, meanwhile, loves all kinds of food and isn't nearly as strict with what she eats. In fact, she's put on a few pounds lately and is feeling a bit insecure about it, especially next to Fletcher's new dedication to fitness. 

This small annoyance turns into something altogether more serious when Pandora's brother Edison comes for a long visit. Edison is an accomplished jazz pianist and he's been working in New York and traveling the world for the past several years. Pandora hasn't seen him in four years, so she is shocked to discover when she picks him up at the airport that he's gained a significant amount of weight. He's put on at least 200 pounds and is barely recognizable to her. This is awkward for her to deal with, as she isn't sure whether to say something, to offer to help him, or to pretend that nothing has changed. When she gets him home, it becomes clear that the extra weight isn't the only issue she will have to contend with during his stay. Edison is a terrible house guest. He's messy, breaks things, and eats an incredible volume of food. He takes over the kitchen as well, cooking outrageously calorie-dense meals.  Fletcher, who has never gotten along with Edison all that well, begins to be openly hostile towards him, which Edison reflects right back to him.

Before long, it becomes clear that something is deeply troubling Edison and he is turning to food to ease his emotional pain. Pandora is unable to stand by and watch him struggle. To save his life, she devises an unorthodox plan; she decides to move into a small apartment with him and begin an intensive diet. She crunches some numbers and determines that Edison's weight has climbed so high that it will take nearly a year's worth of effort to get him down to his old weight of 163 pounds. In undertaking this mission, she is risking her marriage (Fletcher is not supportive of this at all), but she feels like this is the only way to keep Edison alive. Determined to turn her brother around, Pandora takes charge and gives it her best shot.

There were a lot of things I liked about Big Brother, but there were some elements that were troubling as well. On the positive side, I continued to enjoy Shriver's writing style, which is quite wordy and wry. I know that those qualities are exactly what some people don't like about her books, but I really appreciate the way she strings a sentence together. It's most definitely a matter of personal taste on that point. I also thought that Pandora's struggles and thoughts around weight were pretty realistic. She thinks some very harsh things about herself and her brother throughout the novel, but I do think it's an accurate portrayal of someone's inner monologue around a touchy, difficult subject. I imagine that if I was dealing with a similar situation with a relative who suddenly changed in weight so drastically, I would struggle with what to do (or not do) and say (or not say) as well.

The plot itself was not as suspenseful or exciting as what I was used to in We Need to Talk About Kevin, but I was still engaged in the story all the way through and I thought the pacing was pretty good. I was never bored and I was interested to see how the story ended. I wanted to see if Edison would actually lose all the weight or not, and that kept me powering through the pages. 

What I didn't like so much were some of the depictions of Edison. The way Shriver describes his appearance and behavior felt fatphobic to be. He's constantly shown to be struggling to fit into various bits of furniture, breaking things, and lazing around the house. He doesn't pick up after himself, eats things that aren't really food on their own (like a box of powdered sugar, for example), and in one memorable scene, he overflows the toilet to such an extent that his excrement is literally floating down the hallway. I felt like Shriver's perception of weight and calories was off as well. If Edison ate to the extent that we see in the story all the time, he wouldn't be 386 pounds - he'd be dead. Her characterizations were just over the top and hyper-focused on how gross and lazy Edison was at his new weight, and it didn't feel right.

In addition, I felt like Pandora's perception of her own weight was off as well. Throughout the story, she comments repeatedly about how she's gained a few pounds and is uncomfortable with it. She mentions looking noticeably rounder in pictures, having cellulite on her thighs, etc. From the way she went on and on about it, I assumed she was somewhere in the 190-200 zone. However, when she finally gets on a scale in the story, she weighs in around 170, which is pretty close to my own pandemic weight and is really not enough poundage to be causing the level of distress she was experiencing. It seems to me that Shriver has some pretty significant emotional issues tied to weight, stemming I'm sure from her own, real-life brother's obesity, which she wrote a piece on in The Guardian back in 2009. Her brother actually died from complications of obesity, and her attitude throughout Big Brother seems to be a reflection of her anger and hurt from this loss. While this helps me to understand why she writes the way she does about weight, it doesn't help make her portrayal of Edison and Pandora more realistic or less offensive. 

The ending of this novel was a surprise, and one that seems to leave a lot of readers torn, if the reviews on Goodreads are anything to go by. I can't elaborate without giving too much away, but I will say that after reading it and digesting it for a few days, I do like it. It adds a layer of complexity to the story that is worth thinking about afterwards. 

Overall, I enjoyed this book well enough, so I settled on giving it a 3/5. I liked the writing, was interested in the plot, and appreciated the ugly honesty of the main character. However, Shriver's unrealistic and often unkind depiction of the overweight frequently made me cringe. I do not think this was as good as We Need to Talk About Kevin was - not even close, in fact. It was still a decent read though, just not one that I can recommend to anyone who isn't skinny.

Challenge Tally

Then vs. Now: 25/27

Total Books Read in 2020: 81

We Need to Talk About Kevin by Lionel Shriver

 

One of the last books left on my Then Versus Now Challenge was We Need to Talk About Kevin. I first read this book in 2013, and it left me absolutely reeling.  I was sucked in from page one and couldn't put it down until I finished. The story was so tense that it was like passing by a bad car wreck; I couldn't stop looking at it. The ending was especially shocking, and it still sticks in my mind as being the most stunned I have ever been by a book. Going into my reread, I was curious to see if knowing the ending ahead of time would change how I felt about the story. Would I still feel that same sense of dread and suspense already knowing how the novel concludes?  This novel is composed of a series of letters written by Eva Khatchadourian to her estranged husband, Franklin. The letters reflect on events from their past and mostly trace the evolution of their son Kevin, from when they were deciding on whether to become parents right up until Kevin becomes a teenager and commits a heinous criminal act. Parts of these letters also tell about Eva's current life, especially her trips to visit Kevin, who is currently in prison. From the first chapter, the reader is told that Kevin will go on to commit mass murder at his school. This revelation leaves the reader to analyze the behavior his mother describes in her letters and determine if Kevin was simply born bad or if Eva's parenting was to blame. The fist thing I noticed about this book was the language. The voice that Shriver gives Eva is intelligent, thought provoking, and brutally honest. It's often too honest, in fact. Eva is not an easy character to like, but her thoughts and feelings, harsh as they are, make her feel real. It's not often that I actually pause in my reading and think to myself, "hey, this writing is excellent," and I did that after reading just the first few paragraphs. The prose isn't hard to understand, but you do have to focus while reading to get into the flow of Shriver's writing. This is the kind of book you have to turn off the TV and clear your mind to enjoy. At its core, this book is about motherhood. I loved that Eva's uncertainties about being a mother weren't glossed over, but fully examined. While deciding whether or not to have a baby she considers many different ideas, both for and against the prospect, and some of them are purely selfish (like not having time to travel or work on her business). She isn't sure she wants to sacrifice herself to motherhood, which I felt was an incredibly honest feeling to have. Women do give up a lot to have kids and it was almost vindicating to see that acknowledged. A lot of her thoughts mirrored thoughts I have had when thinking about whether I want to have children or not, so I was able to connect with the story straightaway. This honesty continues throughout the novel. For example, she eventually decides to become pregnant mostly out of a longing for something different to happen to her and she confesses to feeling no big surge of maternal affection when Kevin is eventually born. The character of Kevin is written in a disturbingly creepy way. As I mentioned above, Shriver leaves it up to the reader to decide whether nature or nurture is to blame for Kevin's actions. I fall into the former camp; I believe that Kevin was born with some kind of psychiatric problem. When he was a baby he cried constantly, to the point of driving off every baby sitter and nanny the family tried to hire. When he grew to be a toddler, he refused to be potty trained or talk (even though he was capable). As an adolescent and teen, he commits several cruel acts that show him to be an individual who was born with a devilish kind of intelligence but without any empathy for others. There is a distinct air of darkness around him, starting immediately from his babyhood. While reading, I couldn't wait to hear more about Kevin, and if the story deviated from talking about him for a while, I was anxious to get back. He was just such a horrible, evil kid that I was feeling just as frustrated and horrified by him as Eva was. My whole experience of reading this novel was deliciously tense, because while enjoying the honest writing and interesting characters, I knew in the back of my mind that everything was building towards Kevin's horrendous criminal act. I knew he was going to commit a school shooting, I knew I was going to read about children being murdered and Shriver continually dropped nuggets of information about the victims and the crime along the way so I wouldn't forget what was coming. It was torturous and fascinating all at the same time. It's quite a sensation to actually feel apprehensive about turning a page in a book. At the end of the novel, when I finally knew everything that went on during Kevin's spree, I literally felt like a lead weight had dropped on my chest. It was the most horrified I have ever been by a novel. On my second read, only one small criticism surfaced in my mind that I didn't notice before. Some of the language Shriver uses has not aged well at all. There is use of various slurs throughout, by all the main characters. Granted, this novel is set largely in the 80s and 90s, when we called everything "gay" and referred to people with intellectual disabilities using the r-word, so the language matches the times. Reading it now however, was pretty cringeworthy. It's kind of a shame too, because it undercuts all of the things that are great about this book. On the whole though, the good outweighs the bad for me.  We Need to Talk About Kevin is a wonderful book about a terrible event, and I highly recommend it. I've never read anything like it before and I doubt I will again. The blend of brutal honesty, suspense and sadness is both fascinating and disturbing. This was a great achievement for Lionel Shriver and I am very interested to see if I feel the same way about more of her novels. I never ended up reading anything else from her after I first read this book in 2013. Thanks to my Then Versus Now Challenge, I will be starting Big Brother next, and I can start figuring out whether I have a favorite author in Shriver, or just a favorite book.

Challenge Tally

Then vs. Now: 24/27

Total Books Read in 2020: 80