Unpopular Opinion Alert.
This book is very difficult to rate and review. It is not an enjoyable read - in some ways I intensely disliked it. But, at the same time that I was reading it and hating it, I was flicking screens as quickly as possible to get to the next page.
Where I run into trouble with this review is in that I must decide if I am going to treat it as a potentially important and serious treatment of misogyny and the oppression of women, through the medium of speculative fiction. Or, on the other hand, I can treat it as a piece of meaningless genre fiction.
Many of the reviews do discuss the importance of the book, and its relevance to contemporary culture. So, I'm going to take this book seriously, which means that I am going to raise my expectations above just "was it a page turner," and ask questions like "does this make sense?" and"what does this book say that is new or different from other dystopians?" and "am I convinced?"
There are obvious comparisons to be made to Margaret Atwood's A Handmaid's Tale. It also owes a great deal to the current infatuation (arguably over-infatuation) that publishers have with YA dystopians in which misogyny is the central focus of the world-building. I've said before that I'm tired of this type of dystopian, and I stand by that statement. This book is the ultimate example of that type of book - there is no world-building outside of the misogynistic premise.
This book is set entirely in the School where frieda (and the girl's names are always lowercase, a signifier of their lack of status and/or agency) lives in preparation for The Ceremony, which is where she will be told which "third" she is to be in: companion (wife of one of the eligible males), concubine (sex toy for any of the eligible males) or chastity (one of the women who remains in the school to "teach" the younger students). Girls have no mothers nor fathers - only male babies are born (more on this in a moment), eves - the females - are produced in a laboratory with various combinations of skin color, eye color and hair color, designed for ultimate sexual appeal.
There is an intense sense of claustrophobia reading this book - we never leave the school and all information about the outside world is filtered through either the chastities (who are almost universally cruel and unpleasant) or the young men who arrive in the second half of the book to choose their companions and their concubines. The girls are entirely uneducated, they cannot read and do not even know what "math" is.. They spend time on MyFace, obsessively checking their community rankings, which are based on their weight and superficial prettiness. Their lives are completely regimented. They lack all agency and have one personality between all of them: viciously competitive.
So, here is the first area I ran into trouble: "does this make sense."
No, it doesn't. Not even a little. And, yeah, I know, it's fiction, right. But if we're going to treat a piece of speculative fiction seriously as a cautionary tale, then the tale should be cautionary. It should be plausible. This book is completely implausible.
The world-building itself is pretty much completely incomprehensible. On the one hand, this choice could be defended because the narrative frame (frieda) is so sheltered from all contact with the outside world that she has no idea how the world outside of the school works (in fact, it is unclear if she has ever even been outside the walls of the building).
On the other hand, however, it is hard to wrap my mind around this world as something that could exist under the right circumstances when it is so incomprehensible. We are told some very limited facts about climate change and population die-off as a result of the loss of massive amounts of land mass due to rising seas. There's something in there about all of the female babies dying, although there's no explanation of how or why this happened, which necessitates producing girls in a laboratory as commodities.
So, why is this implausible? Oh, dear, let me count the ways:
1. There is sufficient technology to produce girls to physical specification, but no one can figure out how to fix the reproduction problem so that girls can be born naturally. 2. There is also, by definition, sufficient technology to perfect boys by producing them to physical specification, but no one bothers to engage in any of this genetic engineering to benefit our male characters, many of whom are, to put it quite kindly, not exactly appealing specimens of brains or brawn.
In addition, there are different "zones," which seem to correspond generally to geographic areas like Europe and the U.S. And, finally, the number of eligible males in frieda's year is disconcertingly low (10) and the number of girls "created" for their cohort is always 3x the number of possible mates, so there are a total of 30.
This was the hardest part of the book for me. I get it that using a larger number would make the story unwieldy. But it is impossible for me to wrap my mind around the idea that the number of eligible males in a geographic area for a single year would be 10. That is such a small number that, when combined with the technology available to the eves, I just can't make it work.
Why is this implausible: there is technology that would require many workers to maintain, yet we are supposed to believe that this community that is so small that it only has ten young men and thirty young women reaching adulthood per year is able to mass produce food in laboratories, do genetic research, run complicated utilities that keep the lights on and the internet functional, produce television shows, and all of the other accoutrements and trappings of modernity.
So, how is this supposed to work? This "zone" would have a high school class of 40 people (75% of whom are girls and who are therefore glorified sex dolls. Think about this: 75% of the potential talent pool serves no purpose other than recreational and reproductive sexual intercourse. Um. No. That is ridiculous). This is so tiny that it wouldn't even have a grocery store. Yet there is a judge and a cobbler? A cobbler? And there are two concubines and one wife for every guy? Seriously? Who is keeping the lights on here? Do any of the men stop having sex long enough to get any work done?
So, does this book break new ground?
One way to look at it would be to look at it as a parable of what the world might look like if one-half of humanity loses humanity altogether. And it is an ugly world - not simply because of the way the eves are treated, which is horrifying in its own right, but because of the commodification of children and marriage. It is a loveless, joyless place where only sexualized attractiveness exists.
There are inexplicably no animals in this world. There is no nurturing, no sense of the value of humanity that comes from valuing humanness as an end, not just as a means to reproduction and sexual gratification. It is extreme. Even the males, who are ostensibly pampered, have more agency than the girls, but they, themselves are trapped in the profession/social rank of their father, and their mothers are terminated at age 40. There can be little - if any - affection for any of the children being raised in this world.
This doesn't break new ground. It ignores human psychology and everything that makes a human being a human being.
It's interesting that, unlike The Handmaid's Tale, O'Neill's world doesn't have religious underpinnings. There are no religious beliefs at all, no sense of mystery or wonder. No art, no imagination, no beauty. The regimentation is to no purpose.
And this is where O'Neill lost me. In making her world so extreme, so endlessly dreary and superficial, I just can't believe that such a world could actually exist. It is so empty, so clinical, so bereft of all of the things that human beings crave: warmth, connection, love, story, nature, affectionate touch that the only possible response to such a world would be mass suicide and not just by the girls. The entire community is basically a violent and neglectful orphanage, and every person raised in this world would have reactive attachment disorder. Such a world could not thrive, much less survive.
In the alternative, don't take it seriously as trying to say something important or true. In which case, you might like it fine.