This would be great fun for a book club. The author usually starts from some basic feminist point or uncontroversial observation but then every little section has some unsubstantiated claim, a misrepresentation, a generalisation, an inconsistency, a conclusion that doesn’t follow from the premises, a stat that isn’t true any more twenty years later undermining the argument. Very glad I read it and engaged with that point of view, forcing me to examine my own stance and strengthening it. Really brought home the point that neither side of this issue is a monolith.

Predictable repetitive plot, poor writing with obvious metaphors and inconsistent imagery. Despite what the early reviews claimed, I didn’t find it remotely scary. The rites and the protagonist’s buffoonery actually made me laugh a few times.

The idea of the monster as a metaphor for the cycle of fear, violence, and self-justification Iraq is stuck in post-Saddam is interesting. Unfortunately most of the story is made up of the much more tedious troubles of a variety of characters trying to get by in the city.

I actually thought this was one of the rare cases where the adaptation almost lived up to the book. It's abridged a bit of course, but it captures the essence and the atmosphere very well. Some great casting choices too.

Doesn’t have much to say other than “it’s easy to become alienated from your self/family/community/society, and you and everyone around you will keep going through the motions rather than address it”. There were some eerie and evocative scenes but I was expecting something a lot less slight.

If you ever want to get over your crush you should listen to the The Rest is History double feature on the trials. He was paying 16yo boys for sex when he was 40, and initiated the legal proceedings that put him in prison himself out of sheer smug arrogance.

Very enjoyable on the face of it as a gross, messed up modern fairy tale, but you can read into it a bit more as I don't think it's a coincidence that the protagonist is a sixteen year old girl married to a 30-ish year old man. There's an almost-as-good second novella included, which is similarly about what happens to people when they're isolated or ostracized. I thought the writing in both was pretty clunky (She put her face in her hands and cried. Am I that bad a wife? Am I a terrible mother? Why would this happen while I’m out doing God’s work? She shook her fist at the ceiling. “*Why?*”), but apparently Engstom went on to teach writing classes so what do I know.

*palate

Told retrospectively, the book pretty much forgoes any kind of thrilling plot to go all in on its political polarisation / groupthink / confirmation bias allegory. I like the central conceit, and as I’m sure we can all come up with examples of those behaviours on both sides of the political spectrum I’m glad the book doesn’t take sides on that front. It raises some interesting questions with regard to susceptibility, personal responsibility, deradicalisation, and censorship, though it doesn’t really add much to the conversation.

It’s just not that interesting, delivering about what you’d expect from the premise and not much more. Same problem I had with Tender is the Flesh, but it applies even more here.