books · Historical Fiction

Book Review: This Tender Land by William Kent Krueger

This Tender Land by William Kent Krueger.

This Tender Land by William Kent Krueger is a marvel of modern American fiction. I truly want to shout from the internet rooftops about the injustice of this book not getting enough attention. Set in 1932 Minnesota, a gang of young orphans, brothers Albert and Odie O’Banion, 6-year-old Emmy Frost and their mute Sioux friend Mose, run away from the Lincoln Indian Trading School, where displaced young Indians are held and schooled for their alleged betterment, having been driven off the reservations and separated from their families. Albert and Odie, the only two white boys, were orphaned while traveling with their father, and so ended up at the school.

The group is on the run. They’ve left disaster behind in their wake at the Lincoln School, and their need to stay away from the Headmistress Mrs. Brickman, whom they nickname the Black Witch, is paramount. The group sets off down the Gilead River, stopping for a number of misadventures along the way.

 The protagonist, Odie, grapples with his faith as the group continues their travels south to Saint Louis. Odie begins to say that “God a tornado,” because he feels that the only way God acts in his life is in the form of tragedy. As Odie travels, his belief in the Tornado God only worsens, as he often grapples with making decisions far beyond his years in the face of adversity.

As the title may suggest, This Tender Land is a coming of age story, not just for Odie and his fellow ‘Vagabonds’ as they call themselves, but for America. It is reminiscent of a time in our country’s youth, where, befouled by misdeeds and missteps, Great Depression-era America strangled the Midwest. It was a time where hurt accumulated in the hearts of Americans and fueled the distaste of a seemingly no-good government. An impressionable orphan, Odie learns quickly that there is a notable difference between those down on their luck due to the economy and those who seem to not be affected. He can’t understand how people could live lives of luxury knowing how the other half lives. His innocence is noble and refreshing.

Odie acts with compassion towards a number of people he meets on his journey, and though he feels cursed by bad luck and circumstance, he continues to act that way. He gives to those in need, and though he is rarely rewarded, he continues to do so. This devotion slowly becomes his faith, and the pillar on which he is able to find strength in forgiveness and to find his way home.

This Tender Land is well-written, transcending genres in a way I haven’t seen before. There are traces of thriller in the plot, in addition to nuances of the mystical variety. I read this in two days and I am sad to have to leave the characters within the book covers. If you’d like to feel a little inspiration while we all keep moving through difficult times, this story will buoy you towards solace and belief in healing.

books · Historical Fiction · Science/ Alternative Fiction

Book Review: The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead

The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead

The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead was a deviation from the norm in my reading list. Whitehead takes a solidified past event, and uses fictional elements to create a subversive retelling of pre-Civil War America. The fictionalization creates a dystopian past, where relevant modern-day issues are planted like weeds, showing how those issues and prejudices have thrived into the modern day.

Cora is a strong-willed self-preservationist. She lives on a plantation in Georgia, owned and operated by the Randall family, where her mother and grandmother were also slaves. Cora’s mother Mabel was a runaway slave, getting away from the plantation and never being caught. Cora is haunted by her mother’s decision to abandon her daughter, and by the fact that mother is likely living in the North, free from imprisonment and persecution.

Cora is convinced by a friend to run. They set off in the dead of night, making their way into South Carolina. There they find peace, a happy sanctuary, but it’s later discovered that far worse things are happening to free blacks there. Cora needs to continue to run, because there is a known slave hunter after her.

Each of the states she ends up in poses another threat to her freedom. In South Carolina, though the practices were radically better than Georgia, she finds that doctors are “persuading” young black women to be on birth control or forcing them to terminate pregnancies, showing that an underhanded abuse through sterilization is rampant.

After a close call with her pursuer, Cora ends up in North Carolina, where daily hangings in the town square are a source of entertainment. Cora can hear the clapping from her cell in an abolitionist’s attic. Juxtaposed with South Carolina, where blacks were largely free, or so it seemed, North Carolina appears completely outlandish.

This is the unique quality of the novel. By creating such different circumstances in each state, Whitehead is able to create a story where hangings and public displays of anti-slavery sentiment seem rash, when in reality, this was a rampant practice throughout the south during the pre-Civil War era. By fictionalizing certain elements of the novel, Whitehead turns our understanding of ‘acceptable’ upside down. As the book progresses, the reader is inclined to accept that South Carolina, with its own set of problems, was better. When in reality, none of the places Cora lands in are acceptable for her.

Whitehead created the novel around the idea that the Underground Railroad was just that, a true railroad. In reality, the Underground Railroad was a series of houses. Here, it is similar, although there are stations under houses, where escapees can follow to their next destination. I didn’t find that the railroad concept added much to the story, aside from muddying the waters of ‘then’ and ‘now’ further to show the reader how prevalent these sentiments are.

Overall, I thought the book was thought-provoking and different. It brought certain questions about antebellum America to the surface while stifling others. It also strayed from the typical slave-memoir format, and featured a protagonist who was fearful, but never cowed in the face of fear, which may seem unrealistic. Cora’s determination is palpable, and her journey is one worth following.

books · Mystery · Romance

Series Review: A Curious Beginning and A Perilous Undertaking by Deanna Raybourn

A Curious Beginning by Deanna Raybourn

The first two novels in the Veronica Speedwell mystery series have been highly entertaining. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to jump into a series that takes place in another time and still feel a connection to the characters.

Historical fiction is unique in that sense. It allows the reader insight into another time by allowing for comparison to be made to the present day without the necessity of direct parallels. On the surface, you would think that I would have little to relate to a 19th century orphan who turns out to be a closeted princess. But Veronica is one of the bluntest, sharpest, and most charismatic female protagonists, particularly of fiction more geared towards Young Adults. 

Veronica Speedwell has just buried her aunt when she comes home to a stranger burglarizing her home. It’s no matter for Veronica, who already had plans to leave the family home in search of new adventures, except for the arrival of a stranger whose motive is to help her. The Baron, as he comes to be known, is assured that Veronica is in danger, even though she is quite certain the robbery was random. 

He convinces her to travel with him to London. A young, unmarried woman, Veronica isn’t cawed by this proposition in the least. She decides to assuage this kind man’s fears and accompany him. After her arrival in London, the Baron delivers her into the watch of an old friend, Stoker. Veronica isn’t pleased at all to be passed from man to man, especially because she believes herself not to be in danger. But when the Baron is murdered, Veronica and Stoker team up to find out what happened to the Baron. 

I saw someone refer to the romance between Stoker and Veronica as a “slow burn” the other day, and boy, is it. Veronica is curt and doesn’t mince her words, telling Stoker her exact thoughts as she thinks them, whether they be inappropriate, worldly, or apt to make him blush. Stoker playfully banters with Veronica as well, but is wholly devoted to protecting her, no matter her insistence of not needing protection. Although the attraction is clearly there, their friendship is paramount, which is comforting to the reader. 

Stoker supports Veronica as she comes into new information about herself and is faced with her greatest challenge yet: entering the world of the royal family. 

As the second book unfolds, Veronica and Stoker, backdoor detectives, are hired to investigate the murder of a young female artist. Her lover and the father of her unborn baby is set to hang for the crime, so Stoker and Veronica are up against a ticking clock with limited resources. The police seem set on hanging their culprit, although shadowy forces in the background who hire Stoker and Veronica seem less convinced. 

This is probably the least plausible aspect of the novels: that two natural scientists (Stoker is a physician and taxidermist and Veronica is a lepidopterist: studier of butterflies) would be hired in any capacity to investigate a murder or stop a hanging. But that’s why it’s fun! 

The 19th Century British procedural meets the Jane Austen love story in this series. The protagonists are considered odd, but we know now that they were simply before their time. As such, these books are easy to absorb and the perfect distraction from the now, which is just what I’ve been looking for. Can’t wait to read more!

books

Book Review: True Colors by Kristin Hannah

Image result for True Colors Kristin Hannah

Kristin Hannah grabbed my attention when The Nightingale became easily one of my favorite books to date. The Great Alone followed a couple of years later which I ordered with my Book of the Month subscription and I was immediately enthralled. I decided to read one of her earlier novels, True Colors, to see if it could live up to her newer works.

One thing that is consistent across all of Hannah’s tales are her well developed characters. True Colors is the story of three sisters living on a horse ranch with their ornery, stoic father. Winona is the eldest sister. She is smart, hard working and under appreciated by her father. She is plagued by insecurity due to her forever single status and being overweight. She tends to be sidelined to “the best friend” by every man she is interested in. As a young girl, when her mother passed away, she was deemed incompetent as a horsewoman by her father and immediately he lost interest in her while her youngest sister, Vivi Ann, stepped into easily into their mother’s shoes and had a natural knack with horses. This moment becomes the basis of Winona’s jealousy and resentment towards her youngest sister, that and her envy of Vivi Ann’s beauty and constant attention from men in town. The middle sister, Aurora, is your typical middle child who spends most of her time trying to keep the peace between her sisters. When a new ranch hand comes to town with a mysterious aura and dangerous past, the lives of these three sisters are changed forever.

One thing that I enjoyed about this book were some of the parallels I could draw between the Grey sisters and my own relationships with my two sisters. Although not to the extremes seen in this story, it was interesting to see the dynamic between sisters play out across the pages.

Once Dallas, the new Native American ranch hand, is introduced to the Grey family, chaos ensues. Vivi Ann is immediately drawn to him and although she tries to fight it at first, she ends up giving up her resolve and falling for him. She faces exile from her prejudiced father, whom she once adored, as well as judgement from both of her sisters. After Dallas is arrested for murder and their small town turns against him, the bond between the Grey sisters is really put to the test. Horses are known to see a person’s true colors- will this trio be able to weather the storm of scandal and stay true to theirs? I would recommend you read this one through to the end, you won’t be disappointed!

books · Mystery

Book Review: A Fatal Grace by Louise Penny

A Fatal Grace is the second novel in the Chief Inspector Gamache series by Louise Penny. Popular with the bookstagram community and in online circles, Louise Penny is well-known for her penchant for the murder mystery. She’s been creating the world of Gamache since 2005 with the publication of Still Life.

Still Life finds Chief Inspector Armand Gamache called to Three Pines to investigate the murder of an older woman, Jane Neal. A Fatal Grace brings the reader back to Three Pines for another investigation, this time of a middle-aged woman universally disliked, CC des Poitiers. 

Penny’s newest novel in the series was released in late 2019 and having heard good things about it, I was interested in starting the series from the beginning. Now, after finishing the sophomore book in the series, I feel more apt to comment on the story and the characters themselves. The series has now fully lured me in with its rich descriptions of land, folk, and lore.

​Initially I was concerned about Penny’s return to Three Pines. There are a fair few books in the series, and I kept thinking about the actuality that so many murders would occurin a sleepy, small town like Three Pines. I was wary that the series would begin to seem unbelievable. But comforted by my familiarity with the characters and the backdrop, I fell quickly into A Fatal Grace and didn’t look back. 

​Many of the characters from Still Life resurface in the novel, including Clara and Peter Morrow, local artists who were close to the murdered Jane Neal. There are also a number of familiar faces in the owners of the local bistro, Olivier and Gabri, and the retired poet that Gamache so admires, Ruth Zardo. 

​Aside from my concerns that there wouldn’t actually be so many murders in a small town like this, my other concern about believability was brought to light in the happenstance way that Gamache conducts his investigations. He ingrains himself in the politics of the town, getting to know each person and what makes them tick. He tells a young detective Robert Lemieux, “You need to know this. Everything makes sense. Everything. We just don’t know how yet. You have to see through the murderer’s eyes. That’s the trick, Agent Lemieux, and that’s why not everyone’s cut out for homicide. You need to know that it seemed like a good idea, a reasonable action, to the person who did it…No, Agent Lemieux, our job is to find the sense.”

​Of course, this notion of knowing that the crime makes sense, and trusting that it does, propel Gamache to be the talented investigator that he is. But his methods are somewhat unorthodox. I find that his friendships with the members of the town are so close, that he offers information to could-be killers. He is often found at the bistro talking casually to someone that the reader later finds out has a major motive. I wondered why a lot of these conversations weren’t taking place in police headquarters, or atleast being recorded. It almost seems that Gamache’s utmost trust in the world “making sense” also makes him somewhat naïve. This naiveté may end up becoming a weakness. 

CC des Poitiers is an awful human – rude, self-obsessed, and undeserving of any remorse. Still, Gamache must investigate who decided her life would be cut short. CC is electrocuted in a near impossible murder. She is killed while watching a curling match, her un-gloved hand on a metal chair which has been connected to a generator. She is standing in a puddle, and her shoes have metal on them. All of these would have to be known by the murderer in order to kill her. Gamche sets to work, investigating her husband, her daughter, and various others in the town. As he investigates though, he comes upon another murder in Montreal and is faced with the reality that the cases may not be unrelated. I am thoroughly enjoying the Chief Inspector Gamache series and I’m looking forward to reading more from Louise Penny.

books · Romance

Book Review: The Great Alone by Kristin Hannah

The Great Alone

Having just finished The Great Alone by Kristin Hannah, I am still trying to dissect my feelings on the novel. Currently, I feel…unsettled.

A coming of age novel about a young girl in the 1970s, Leni Allbright is the daughter of a Vietnam War POW, Ernt Allbright, and his wife Cora. Ernt has just returned home to his wife and daughter, but he’s not the same man who left. The war has transformed Ernt, and not for the better. He is out of money and out of options, having been fired from numerous mechanic jobs.

Ernt has decided to move his family to Alaska, to a small peninsula where a fellow Vietnam soldier has left him a plot of land. Big dreams about the unknown formulate as the Allbright family considers how Alaska could be the answer to their prolonged search for happiness.

While summer in Alaska brings days of unending sunlight and the promise of freedom, the Alaskan winter quickly sets in to foil any hope the Allbrights had for that happiness. Ernt’s moods are unpredictable with the winter weather, and the family is unprepared for harsh Alaskan weather.

Banding together to help the Allbrights prepare, even as Ernt protests outside help, the Kaneq community proves to be a steadying force in Leni’s life. Made up of a motley crew of native Alaskans and those newer to Alaska, the community dynamic was one of my favorite parts of the novel. There’s an understanding of true kindness and goodness that permeates the personal boundaries between neighbors. Alaska may be The Great Alone in many ways, but there is always a helping hand for Leni and Cora when they need it. Their problem is learning how to accept help.

Leni thrives in the wilderness. Ernt teaches his wife and daughter to prepare for the end of the world, which is helpful in the Alaskan wilderness, but it doesn’t protect them from him. Ernt’s dark moods are sudden and he has an insistence that “holier-than-thou” men are trying to destroy Kaneq with money and materialism. Nothing will stop him fom aggressively beating his wife.

Truly, this book gave me a lot of anxiety. Cora and Leni live in a world of fear, constantly afraid of what will set Ernt off and end in bruises for Cora. I was bothered not only by the situation, but by Cora’s insistence that her husband “didn’t mean it” and Leni’s insistence in taking care of her mother. While reading, I just wanted one of them to get. the. hell. out. of. there. They referred to each other as peas in a pod and boy did they mean it. Traditional parent/child roles were switched, and I felt the pain of responsibility on Leni’s shoulders.

Kristin Hannah’s luxurious language and portrait of the Alaskan wilderness is something else, but I was hesitant to enjoy it because of my persistent anxiety over Cora and Leni’s situation. As the reader, you knew that Ernt’s behavior was escalating and was going to climax in possible fatal violence, and because of that, the pretty words about open Alaskan country couldn’t distract me.

Leni falls in love with Matthew Walker, the only other boy her age in school. Their love is young and innocent, but Matthew happens to be the son of Ernt’s largest town rival, sealing Leni and Matthew’s fate as star-crossed lovers. As Ernt falls further and further into delusion about the terrors of the outside world, he builds a wall to keep the world out of their homestead, but in turn, Cora and Leni are trapped. Leni and Cora are forced to leave, and Leni is forced to leave behind everything she cares about in Alaska.

Some of the plot points were unrealistic, but I really did enjoy Leni and Matthew’s relationship, particularly his willingness to help her no matter what the cost.

Ernt and Cora were troubling characters- but they were one of the more realistic parts of the story. Toxic, abusive relationships are sadly very common, and I felt Cora was a true representation of a battered woman. Her flaws were heartbreaking and dangerous.

Leni was set up for failure from the start, but against the Alaskan backdrop, she becomes a resilient force to be reckoned with. She excels in the ways her mother failed. She changes the story. Although this novel filled me with a dread I have rarely felt while reading modern fiction, I enjoyed the story. The story ended with less death than I expected, but one quote from the beginning of the novel caught my eye. As a child, Leni understood death as it was described through books – “a message, catharsis, retribution.” Hannah writes “Death made you cry, filled you with sadness, but in the best of her books, there was peace, too, satisfaction, a sense of the story ending as it should.” The Great Alone provided this satisfaction – a story ending as it should.

books

Book Review: There There by Tommy Orange

Image result for there there tommy orange review

The discovery of the “New World” was a blessing to those escaping religious persecution in Europe. The colonists found a place to be free, to start fresh and a whole lot of land to make that all possible. A little kink in their plan was the fact that this world was already home to indigenous peoples who had been living off the land for years. Since then Native Americans have been slaughtered, ripped from their homes, and forced onto designated land now called reservations. The modern day Native American stereotype is not a pretty one- most of the time the reservations are associated with alcoholism, gambling addiction and diabetes.

Once a people of health and freedom, Native Americans for the most part are now part of a low socioeconomic class plagued with a sense of not belonging.  Tommy Orange portrays the struggle of the “Urban Indians” in his novel There There. He writes, “We are the memories we don’t remember, which live in us, which we feel, which make us sing and dance and pray the way we do, feelings from memories that flare and bloom unexpectedly in our lives like blood through a blanket from a wound made by a bullet fired by a man shooting us in the back for our hair, for our heads, for a bounty, or just to get rid of us.” This sets the tone of the novel in which Orange tells the story of twelve characters, varying in their degree of Indian, as they plan to attend a big powwow in Oakland, California. As the characters develop we learn of their connections but the major similarity between them is the fact that they all struggle with being Native American in today’s America. Depression, alcoholism, domestic abuse, gang violence, teenage pregnancies, suicide are all realities for these individuals and their journey to find where and how they fit in ends at the Big Oakland Powwow.

Harvey, the MC travelling to the powwow says, “We all been through a lot we don’t understand in a world made to either break us or make us so hard we can’t break even when it’s what we need to do.” He is a recovering alcoholic who runs AA meetings for fellow urban Native Americans.  He is travelling to the powwow with a woman who he forced himself upon earlier in life and also plans to meet a son that he has never met at the powwow. This is an example of how interconnected Orange’s characters are in the novel. They are all on a path of self discovery which unfortunately coincides with self destruction.

I thoroughly enjoyed reading There There because of the raw emotion that Orange is able to portray in his words. He paints a very clear picture of the struggle Native Americans face today in this country which is a topic that rarely gets the recognition it deserves. This is not the story told in school history books but a very real and very current slow destruction of a group of people that is eerily reminiscent of the past. It is well worth a read.

books · Thriller

Book Review: The Death of Mrs. Westaway

Ah summer- the perfect time to curl up on the couch in the AC during a thunder boomer and read! I was excited to start my most recent read as there was a lot of hype surrounding Ruth Ware’s The Death of Mrs. Westaway. I read The Woman in Cabin 10 last year and found it initially enticing but it ended up falling a little flat for me. Although my hopes were high, I have to say the same about this one.

Hal is our protagonist in this thriller. She is a tarot card reader in her early 20’s reeling from the recent and sudden death of her mother. She is struggling to pay the bills and even owes scary loan sharks money. In a twist of fate she is unexpectedly contacted by a solicitor (English verbiage for lawyer)  who notifies Hal that she has been named in the will of a Mrs. Westaway whom has recently passed away. She knows nothing about her mother’s family and did not know her father, however she is doubtful that this correspondence is rightfully meant for her. Seeing as she has nothing to lose, she decides to go to the estate of Mrs. Westaway, called Trepassan, to claim her prize.  She believes that she can use the people -reading skills and intuition that she uses daily to make a living to convince this family that she is Mrs. Westaway’s long lost granddaughter and hopefully get some money out of it. Little does she know that Trepassan holds many dark and twisted secrets and that the family she is about to meet may not be one she wants to keep.

The novel has a dreary almost Gothic vibe and is set in rainy, cold England which is the perfect setting for a murder mystery. As I was reading I felt as if I was on the Clue game board; It was the Colonel with the knife in the kitchen! As with most mysteries I did successfully guess “who dun it” and was not overly satisfied with the outcome. I do enjoy Ruth’s detailed writing style and her character development. Overall even though it held my attention I would say to skip this one. Hoping her newest thriller, The Turn of the Key has a little more oomph to it!

books · Historical Fiction

Book Review: The Island of Sea Women by Lisa See

Sometimes, you should judge a book by its cover. This was my favorite book of 2019, and I based my purchase almost entirely on the interesting cover with two old ladies. As I brought the book home, it was a serious underdog, being beat out book after book with others I’d bought and borrowed. Finally, I picked this up last week after buying it at the Tattered Cover Bookstore on vacation in Denver in May. I was not disappointed.

The number of Asian-American coming-of-age books the New York State curriculum force-fed me and my peers in middle and high school (I’m looking at you Joy Luck Club and Memoirs of a Geisha) has conditioned me to avoid Asian literature. I never enjoyed anything that we were told to read. It wasn’t relatable to me and I wrote it off. With the recent resurgence of all different types of multi-cultural fiction, I’ve been trying to diversify the stories I read to incorporate some stuff that might not be the most relatable for me, but is still very worthwhile.

The Island of Sea Women spans pre- World War II and wartime Korea, detailing Korean occupation by the Japanese and by the Allies. Japanese occupation of Korea began in 1910. This story begins with a distinct air of unrest with the Japanese- although there isn’t outright war, the Korean natives stay as far from Japanese insurgents and soldiers as they can.

The body of the story follows two female friends and their journey through life as haenyeo. Haenyeo are female divers who reside on the Korean island of Jeju, where a family living is made primarily by the female mother, who dives into the sea to collect food (primarily seaweed, clams and abalone, but sometimes octopus and larger finds) and other sea life to sell for income. The haenyeo collective is a matriarchal society, one that stands juxtaposed to the male dominated societies of the West, particularly in the 1940s.

First and foremost, I am grateful for having read this book because of what it taught me about Korean history. My grandfather was in the Korean War and I am ashamed to admit I knew close to nothing about the United States’ role in the emancipation of South Korea from Japan and North Korea, never mind anything about Korea itself.

Even better, the story of female friendship between Young-sook and Mi-ja. Mi-ja’s family were Japanese “collaborators” – a term thrown around pretty loosely. Her father worked in a Japanese factory on the Korean mainland. Orphaned at a young age after moving to the island of Jeju with her father, Mi-ja is taken under the wing of Young-sook’s mother, who is the chief of the village diving collective. She teachers the young girls to dive as haenyeo, to provide for their families as true Island women do.

Young-sook and Mi-ja’s lives deviate amidst a backdrop of world war. Mi-ja is arranged to marry a man from a Japanese collaborating family. Her similarities to Young-sook dwindle and Young-sook finds it harder and harder to maintain her sisterhood with Mi-ja.

War strikes the island, bringing tragedy to Young-sook’s family. Her losses are symbolic to her of Mi-ja’s insistence on not helping Young-sook’s family in their time of need. Surely her husband’s political ties could save them all? Her relationship with Mi-ja is never the same.

Haenyeo are known for fortitude, determination and strong will. Young-sook embodies these without apology. It is seen as a benefit for haenyeo to be this way, to endure in the face of adversity, but I think this contributes to Young-sook’s loss of oversight and her inability (or direct negligence) to sympathize with her friend.

There are secrets between Mi-ja and Young-sook that enable them to never understand each other. There is death between them before they can heal their wounds. If Young-sook has been willing and able to embrace her friend in her own lowest time with sympathy rather than judgement, she would have come to easier realizations. Instead she harbors resentments, using her strength of character to put up an impenetrable wall against her friend.

The things lost between them are devastating. In a time when there is infinite loss and terror, two friends are driven further into turmoil, against each other, following societal lines of demarcation.

Lisa See’s novel details the lives of strong, immovable women, women I found to be extremely worthy, laudable, and noble. She highlights, however, how even the most noble can be flawed and can be inhibited from making the best choices as humans, even if they believe they are following an understanding of what’s right.

See’s writing is so enjoyable- like a refreshing dip in the ocean. May we learn from the haenyeo and from these characters something about grit, perseverance, and empathy.

books · Science/ Alternative Fiction

Book Review: The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood

There has been a lot of hype around The Handmaid’s Tale lately, particularly in the relativity of this story to modern society and female rights.

My train of contemplation throughout this novel strayed towards human nature: the lack of it, the necessity for it, the justification of it in any and all human societies. What we learn in this novel is that no matter what confines or liberties are put forth to a group of people, or on one person, there is always the uncontrollable element of desire and the inclination towards what is deemed natural.

Nature versus nurture is a long-debated paradox in psychology, but if there was ever a definitive justification for the dominance of nature, it is The Handmaid’s Tale.

Offred is living in the dystopian country of Gilead, where women like her serve one purpose – to reproduce for the family to which they are assigned. Children they bear are not their own, they belong to the “wives” for which they serve.

The society is dominated by archaic rules that condemn women to a life without reading or writing, learning or socializing. Relations between men and women are strictly sexual in scheduled encounters. Though these rules are stringent and the consequences are dire, each character in the novel gives in to their natural desires at some point throughout, giving credence to the idea that although culture can change, human autonomy withstands tests of its strength.

Left wanting more from this novel, I’m looking forward to the sequel that is set to be released in September 2019. I believe that the reasons I’m intrigued, however, resonate with the same inclination towards understanding human nature that the novel surrounds. I have the urge to fit the pieces together and find out how the resolution of conflict plays out in the characters’ lives, rather than a need to understand the potential political upheaval that Atwood creates which could, in our reality, so similarly affect even the most secure of societies.

My interest lies in the humanity- the relationships. Is Offred pregnant? Was her Commander really such a bad guy, or was he primarily good, but drunk with power and circumstance? Does Moira rest on her laurels or continue to fight?

I raced through this book with the constant desire to reach some understanding, I’m not sure of what. I don’t think resolution is really meant to be achieved. This book is not written to make you feel good or resolve fears, but to create them. There is no validation that humanity will will out over any adversity it is faced with. Coming to the close of the story and finding no answers to the great questions of our nature, I moved on, feeling a little deflated and wary of our potential as individuals and as societal beings.

Really interesting and makes me want to have a stern talk with my fiancé about my post-apocalyptic rights.