This is not an easy read, with its frank depictions of violence and brutality, but an important one nonetheless. It's thought-provoking, disturbing, challenging. A combination of speculative fiction and political/crime thriller, the book describes what happens if women suddenly develop an extraordinary physical power which enables them to overturn the traditional male-female dynamics.

The story does drag in some places and I can understand some criticism of how it could have been written better. But I thought the idea was fantastic. The great irony and the genius in this is the fact that the things that happen in this book are exactly the things that have been happening and are continuously happening in our reality today, but with the sexes reversed.

If we as readers find it appalling that in the universe of this book men are dominated, undermined, objectified, oppressed, murdered, assaulted, sexually abused (and then accused to be "asking for it" or "enjoying it"), and generally considered lower-level, lesser human beings by women, then we should ask ourselves why it is acceptable that the very same things are overwhelmingly still being done in our own world to women by men. If this novel is considered a dystopia, than a different kind of dystopia is already happening today, has been happening for centuries.

But the book is not meant to condemn one of the sexes, or say one of them are evil or inherently more violent. Instead it is a critical study of power and how it corrupts. And, because "power doesn’t care who uses it", how dangerous it is to let one group disproportionately hold it and use it against others.

"When does power exist? Only in the moment it is exercised."

A lot of people love this book. Hell, a lot of people whose opinions I trust love this book. And that's great. One of the cool things about art is that it's subjective. I, unfortunately, did not love this book. In fact, after an hour long rant to my husband that started with "I don't hate it but...," I have been informed that I lied: I do hate this book. If you don't want any general spoilers don't read on, because I can't talk about my issues with this book without really digging in.

Here's my main issue: either this book is about gender, or it is about power, and either way I think it fails.

If this book is about gender then why is this one of the most binary books I've read in recent times? That would be expected if this came out in the 80s, but it didn't. This book was released in 2018. And there is no mention of anyone in this book that falls outside the very strict, sex based binary of male/female. There is mention of the rare man that grows a skein, and the rare woman that doesn't, but as a concept that isn't explored. And if it's a book about gender that should be explored, at least a little. Where are the non-binary people? Trans people (I especially wanted to know how trans women walked through this world)? Intersex people? Either Alderman didn't consider this, or didn't have a good answer and decided not to address it. Which means that if this book is trying to take on the topic of gender it falls short. A book about the "clash between the two sexes" comes off as outdated and, if I'm being totally honest, mildly offensive to me.

Okay, but the book is really more about power than gender, right? Okay. I'll buy that. It is the name of the book after all. But then my question becomes: what are you trying to say by writing this narrative? I want to preface this by saying I don't think all books need or want to say something beyond telling a story, nor should they. Sometimes, however, a book very clearly presents itself as attempting to interject a stance/idea into the cultural dialogue. Alderman very obviously wrote this book to say something, not to be a fun popcorn book. So what is she saying?

As near as I can tell the thesis of this book is that absolute power corrupts absolutely. That's an oldie but goodie, and I don't even entirely disagree with that premise. Here's the thing though, when you break it down more granularly this book seems to be saying, "if you give women more power than men they would be just as violent and cruel." Oh, and it would end the world. Not metaphorically. Literally. If women held the bulk of the power they would literally bomb us back to the stone age. If women held more power than men within a matter of a few years they would end civilization.

So here's the thing, I would not make the argument that women are inherently more gentle, level-headed, compassionate, blah blah blah, than men. I don't think that's true. At our core I don't think men and women are actually very different. However, releasing a book into the #metoo Trump era that essentially says if you give women power, they will use it to rape, murder, and destroy, is a pretty questionable thing to do. So I'm questioning it.

For example, there's this extremely uncomfortable section of the book from the perspective of Men's Rights Activists, and they are being their usual vitriolic terrible selves...except they aren't wrong. So we are supposed to empathize with them...I think? These horrible people describing all women as cunts that need to be put in their place are also totally correct about their fears and conspiracies. That's a hell of a thing to put into the world.

Side note: I also want to say that reading about sexual violence isn't any more palatable to me when the sexual roles are reversed. Reading numerous scenes where men are abused and raped, sometimes very graphically, wasn't something I particularly needed in my life. That's more of a personal taste thing than a general critique, but I felt I needed to include it as it absolutely effected the way I interacted with this book. Starting the story out with sexual violence against women, and basically ending it with sexual violence against men, made reading this book particularly grotesque for me, especially as a survivor.

Look, I think I see what Alderman was angling for when she wrote this book. However, when I really dig into it I don't think this is a message I wanted to ingest at this point in history. Given where we are now culturally this book comes off as exclusionary and misogynistic to me. Would that have been the case in the past? Probably not. But we've moved waaaaaaaay past 2nd wave feminism at this point. There will be a lot of people who disagree with my take on this, and that's totally fine. As always, your milage may vary. I for one, however, was left far more pissed off than empowered.

Interesting and some of the parts are certainly thought-provoking, but overall Alderman's writing just doesn't agree with me. 

I loved the exploration of some of the customs in that particular conservative Jewish community that the story is set in. I loved the juxtaposition of Ronit's thoughts on her own life, which is messy but in which she is herself, and Ronit's former life, which seemed to be dominated by conformity and submission. 

It’s difficult to work out the meaning of life in Hendon. I mean, it’s difficult to work it out for yourself, rather than allowing other people to tell you. Because in Hendon there are plenty of people just dying to explain the meaning of life to you. I guess that’s true in New York too, but in New York everyone seems to disagree with everyone else about what the meaning of life is. In Hendon, at least the Hendon I grew up in, everything faced in one direction, there was nowhere to get a grip. You need that disagreement, we all do, so that we can realize that the world isn’t smooth and even, not everyone agrees with everyone else. You need a window into another world to work out what you think of your own.

However, I also felt as if this juxtaposition was a form of manipulation as the portrayal of Ronit's defiance against her former community didn't consider any other approaches to religion that Ronit may have experienced when moving to New York, and in turn this seemed to create a kind of "me v. them" mentality that just doesn't seem plausible.

I mean, I would have understood if her experience growing up had turned Ronit against all religion for example, but it didn't. Instead, her wrath is personal to the very community she grew up in and which she is visiting when her estranged father passes away. The way it comes across in the book, however, is not personal. It comes across as if the particular community was a generalised representation of all practitioners, and Ronit's vengeance was directed against all. The fact that some of the main characters at the receiving end of Ronit's scorn are portrayed as stereotypes does not help. 

I have no doubt that such people exist, as they do in all sections of society, but in the context of the book this works against the quality of the book. There are some truly lovely scenes and characters - Ronit, Dovid, Esti, the Goldfarbs, ... - but to focus the frustration, loathing, and defiance of Ronit, Dovid, and Esti on the characters that seem like stereotypes just creates more stereotypes, and this is never a good move in my reading. It just cheapens the book. 

"I thought I had come to all sorts of decisions about what I believe. That it is better for things to be said than remain unsaid. That I have nothing to be ashamed about. That those who live narrow lives have only themselves to blame when they find themselves shocked. As it turns out, I don’t seem to have got what Scott would call ‘total buy-in’ from all levels of my brain on those principles. I thought I should phone Dr Feingold, just to let her know that nothing had been resolved even after all this time. Because I did feel it. Shame. They’re not bad people. None of them are. Well, maybe the Hartogs. But the Goldfarbs aren’t bad people. They’re not cruel or unpleasant or malicious. They didn’t deserve to have their peaceful Friday night dinner overturned. They didn’t deserve me smashing my life straight into theirs. It can’t have been right that I did. And if I hadn’t? Yeah, that wouldn’t have been right either."

This is the second of Alderman's books that I've read, and although my issues with this one are different from the ones I had with The Power, there is something in Alderman's writing that yells at me "I'm pushing an agenda here!" that I just cannot help but cringe at.  

Btw, this (the original) cover is a much better fit than the current movie tie-in cover. 

Also, btw, even though the book was disappointing, I cannot see that the good parts would have been communicated well in the film. I'm curious enough to find out, but I have a feeling that the film's focus will be on affair between Ronit and Esti, not about the issue of breaking with tradition and being outcast from a community, and the changes that can be brought about by a simple application of empathy.

Wow! Imagine a world where the women take over. Men are controlled by women and women make the decisions. No man is permitted to do anything or go anywhere without a woman's approval. That's the premise of The Power.

I liked it. A lot. Roles are reversed. The thoughts and words have changed gender. Men control very little and only with the approval of women.

I was so into the story I forgot that it is a story that will be a novel of the time when the world changed from men leading to women leading. The set-up to and from the novel is done through letters from the author to a friend. Since he cannot tell the history as history, he does it as a novel. It works very well this way. I forgot it was a novel and was looking at it as ...hmmm, what if?

I liked how it is done by years and each year is seen from the main characters point-of-view. I liked Roxy. She's tough and a survivor. Allie started to believe her PR. So does Margot. I'm not sure whether the two of them become hinderances or return to the light. Allie's voice makes me wonder--serpent or angel. I also enjoyed Tunde and his male point-of-view of what is happening to the men and will they survive.

A well done novel that will make you question your beliefs. Lots of discussion points for book clubs. I know I'm recommending it for mine.