Horror Reading
Oct. 25th, 2018 06:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
brigdhBefore She Sleeps by Bina Shah. A feminist dystopia by a Pakistani writer. Many centuries in the future – after a few nuclear wars and breakdown of religions – the greatest crisis in the world is the "Gender Emergency", a mutated HPV virus that swept across the globe and killed off the vast majority of women without harming the men. In Green City the government has responded by elevating the remaining women to a high status. They're pampered and wealthy, it's a capital crime to physically harm them, and they're given anything they want – except autonomy. They have no education beyond topics related to running a household and having healthy pregnancies, are married off to multiple men (and given no choice about which men), and are kept constantly pregnant on fertility drugs.
The main character is Sabine, a young woman who ran away in terror when assigned to her first marriage and ended up in the Panah, a household of independant women who maintain their secret existence by providing non-sexual feminine company for powerful men.
This is an intriguing setup, but unfortunately the execution just doesn't work. The plot ultimately focuses on Sabine's relationship with a young man she meets, which makes the whole thing feel more like a YA novel than anything else: cruel government as an excuse for star-crossed romance. The last part of the book especially falls apart, as characters abruptly betray one another or make odd choices for no reason I can discern, while others make wild leaps of logic that seem to come from nowhere but which I guess we're supposed to take as true.
I wanted more worldbuilding. I do think the whole concept of platonic female companionship becoming incredibly valuable is plausible, particularly if they're skilled in conversation, arts, music, language, etc – just look at historical examples like the hetairai, geishas, or tawaifs. But the women of the Panah don't provide anything like that; they're literally just warm bodies to sleep beside. Sabine in particular is quite outwardly resentful of her clients, which makes it even less believable that they'd risk so much to spend time with her. There's also absolutely no consideration of what such a gender imbalance would do to GLBTQ issues – would there be a lot of situational male homosexuality, for example? how do trans women fit in? – beyond a brief reference to young boys experiencing increased incidents of rape. Really, Shah? That's the one detail you want to give us? Okay then.
Overall, not terrible, but there are better books taking on the same concept.
I read this as an ARC via NetGalley.
My Sister, the Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite. A horror satire set in modern-day Nigeria. I'm not sure satire is quite the right word; it's not laugh-out-loud funny, but there is a black cynicism running underneath the plot that gives the story its punch. Think 'American Psycho more than 'Scary Movie'.
Ayoola is pretty, outgoing, flirtatious, popular, and skilled. She's also stabbed three of her boyfriends to death, each time claiming that it was in self-defense and convincing her older sister, Korede, to help her hide the body. Korede is beginning to suspect that there might be something wrong with Ayoola, particularly since she seems not at all bothered by the deaths and has to be reminded not to post sexy selfies to Instagram when she's supposed to be in mourning. Matters come to a head when Ayoola starts dating Tade, a handsome doctor that Korede herself is in love with. Does she warn Tade about her sister? And who will believe her if she does?
Not a particularly scary novel, but one that is deeply enjoyable, about the bond between sisters even in the most, ahem, unusual of circumstances.
I read this as an ARC via NetGalley.
The main character is Sabine, a young woman who ran away in terror when assigned to her first marriage and ended up in the Panah, a household of independant women who maintain their secret existence by providing non-sexual feminine company for powerful men.
This is an intriguing setup, but unfortunately the execution just doesn't work. The plot ultimately focuses on Sabine's relationship with a young man she meets, which makes the whole thing feel more like a YA novel than anything else: cruel government as an excuse for star-crossed romance. The last part of the book especially falls apart, as characters abruptly betray one another or make odd choices for no reason I can discern, while others make wild leaps of logic that seem to come from nowhere but which I guess we're supposed to take as true.
I wanted more worldbuilding. I do think the whole concept of platonic female companionship becoming incredibly valuable is plausible, particularly if they're skilled in conversation, arts, music, language, etc – just look at historical examples like the hetairai, geishas, or tawaifs. But the women of the Panah don't provide anything like that; they're literally just warm bodies to sleep beside. Sabine in particular is quite outwardly resentful of her clients, which makes it even less believable that they'd risk so much to spend time with her. There's also absolutely no consideration of what such a gender imbalance would do to GLBTQ issues – would there be a lot of situational male homosexuality, for example? how do trans women fit in? – beyond a brief reference to young boys experiencing increased incidents of rape. Really, Shah? That's the one detail you want to give us? Okay then.
Overall, not terrible, but there are better books taking on the same concept.
I read this as an ARC via NetGalley.
My Sister, the Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite. A horror satire set in modern-day Nigeria. I'm not sure satire is quite the right word; it's not laugh-out-loud funny, but there is a black cynicism running underneath the plot that gives the story its punch. Think 'American Psycho more than 'Scary Movie'.
Ayoola is pretty, outgoing, flirtatious, popular, and skilled. She's also stabbed three of her boyfriends to death, each time claiming that it was in self-defense and convincing her older sister, Korede, to help her hide the body. Korede is beginning to suspect that there might be something wrong with Ayoola, particularly since she seems not at all bothered by the deaths and has to be reminded not to post sexy selfies to Instagram when she's supposed to be in mourning. Matters come to a head when Ayoola starts dating Tade, a handsome doctor that Korede herself is in love with. Does she warn Tade about her sister? And who will believe her if she does?
Not a particularly scary novel, but one that is deeply enjoyable, about the bond between sisters even in the most, ahem, unusual of circumstances.
I read this as an ARC via NetGalley.
