Tag: Feminism

The Women

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Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐.5
Author: Kristin Hannan
Genres: Historical Fiction
Pub. Date: Feb. 2024

4.5 stars, rounded up. I absolutely flew through this book! I was really excited to read it, but for some reason I was expecting it to be a slow read. I enjoyed The Nightingale, absolutely loved The Great Alone, and didn’t really care for The Four Winds. But Kristin Hannah is back on her game with The Women.

She said in the author’s note that this is a story she’s been wanting to write for a long time, but didn’t want to write it until she was a more mature author. I think now was the right time and that writing about Vietnam captures her at her best. While The Great Alone isn’t really about Vietnam, the fact that Ernt Albright is a POW from Vietnam is really critical to the story. I feel like the Vietnam War is something close to Hannah’s heart, and it shows in her writing.

I think “The Women” is a very uninspired title, but it does fit this book. Hannah explores a lot of themes, but above all, she asks the question, “what about the women?” Frankie McGrath is 21 years old and has just obtained her nursing license in California. Her family has a proud history of military service and her brother, Finlay, is quick to enlist to serve in Vietnam. At that time, America was portrayed as winning the war and the extent of casualties were either limited, or not communicated to the public. 

Frankie misses her brother and is frustrated by the limitations of being a junior nurse. In an effort to get on her Dad’s “hero wall”, which memorializes their family’s service, she decides to enlist as an Army Nurse. Shortly after, the family learns that Finlay’s helicopter has been shot down and he has been killed. But it’s too late for Frankie to back out and she proceeds to basic training and ships out to Saigon.

Once in Vietnam, Frankie quickly has to adapt to the chaotic nature of war. After her initial shock, she becomes a very adept surgical nurse and develops close friendships with the other women. But over time, Frankie becomes disillusioned with the American government and their portrayal of the war and its success. Her mother keeps her updated on the protests at home, but when she returns to America, she is surprised at the level of antipathy the public has towards veterans. As Frankie struggles with PTSD, she realizes that no one even considers nurses to be veterans, and she is refused the few scarce benefits and supports that are offered to the men who served. (it’s not stated, but I’m curious if the male doctors were able to access veteran benefits?)

I love the way this book is written. We spend the first half of the book in Vietnam, where Frankie is exposed to unfathomable terrors, which includes a steady stream of maimed, wounded, and dying soldiers, as well as severely burned Vietnamese civilians who are the accidental (I hope) target of America’s extensive use of Napalm. Frankie rises to the occasion, becoming steady, reliable, and knowledgeable as a combat nurse.

As the reader, you go through this journey with Frankie. Even though I was aware of many of these atrocities, Hannah does an excellent job of conveying the chaos and heartbreak of war through Frankie’s eyes. It’s a brilliant set-up for the rest of her book because she is showing the reader exactly why so many people suffered PTSD from the War. It’s hard to empathize with characters like Ernt Albright in The Great Alone, because I didn’t really know what he went through. But we go through the war with Frankie, so it’s so much easier to understand her struggles.

The entire novel is compelling, but the first half definitely sucks you in. It’s a high stress setting and I could not put the book down. The second half of the book is slightly more understated, but the aftermath of Frankie’s time in Vietnam is the real reason why Hannah is telling this story. To shine a light on the injustices faced after the war by the women who served their country, and in my opinion, this second half is still gripping.

When Frankie returns to America, the culture shock is immense. She is literally spit upon at the airport and her 2 years of service are dismissed by her parents. She has nightmares and trauma responses to stimuli around her. She initially lashes out (justifiably) at both her parents and friends, but she does try to seek help from a veteran’s clinic and is turned away. She’s repeatedly told that “there were no women in Vietnam”, that “she didn’t see combat”, and so as a result “she doesn’t understand what it’s really like”. Her only coping mechanism is to remain silent and try and forget about the war. I’m sure it was still very challenging for the male veterans, who were also experiencing PTSD and public opposition to their service, but I can’t imagine having to also deal with the mass societal gaslighting of being told your experience didn’t even happen.

There’s so much to unpack in this book. At its core, it is a book about women’s history. The late 60’s and early 70’s were a time of change in America, the era of free love. White women were gaining more rights, but women overall still faced a lot of injustice and erasure. The book focuses heavily on Frankie’s PTSD, as well some issues of equal and civil rights. Frankie becomes very close with Ethel and Barb, who were nurses with her in Vietnam, and she relies heavily on these women throughout the novel.

Barb is a black woman, and even though she’s only one character, I’m glad Hannah opted to include her perspective. This is still primarily a white woman’s book, but there is recognition that there were a lot of black men who served their country in Vietnam and that their grassroots organization in the civil rights movement was also largely applied in protesting the war in Vietnam. I don’t think we really get a deep look at how Barb would have been marginalized in the Army and as an activist, or how she might have struggled being friends with two privileged white women, but I was glad to see the inclusion of a strong black woman in the story.

Frankie is a mess in the second half of the book and despite some of her gains, her life continually goes from bad to worse. I could see how her trauma could get repetitive to some readers, but I’m glad that Hannah wrote it this way because PTSD is repetitive. At this time period, PTSD still wasn’t very well understood, especially in women. It is shocking to hear about the high rates of alcohol, drug abuse, and suicide among Vietnam veterans, which is further exacerbated when you learn that many of them also developed cancer or had miscarriages or birth defects as a result of the chemicals the American’s were spraying all over the countryside.

The Vietnam War was really unlike any other war the Americans had participated in at the time. First of all, they lost it, but second of all, because of the opinion of the public, there was no glory in it. The soldiers weren’t coming home to parades like WWI and WWII. I think my problem now is that I don’t really know who is to blame, although this may be a byproduct of a lack of knowledge on my part. America was committing atrocities in Vietnam. The book doesn’t outright address incidents like the My Lai massacre, but it is demonstrated through the number of Vietnamese civilians that Frankie treats in her OR and what she witnesses at the mobile clinics. The question this book doesn’t answer is, who is accountable? 

How aware was the average soldier about the injustices the US committed against Vietnamese citizens? Can you separate the war from the soldiers? Frankie asks the question, can’t the American public support the troops and protest the government? These men and women are still serving their country, the same as in WWI and WWII, but what if your government or your superiors are acting in bad faith? I honestly don’t know the answer. Many people who are tried for war crimes throughout history use the excuse that they were just following orders, at what point are you serving your country and at what point do you become the villain? 

As a set-up to examine the impacts of war and the struggles of a country divided, I think this book is brilliant. I think Hannah asks all the right questions and focuses on the right themes. Her execution is excellent. What you’ll notice I haven’t mentioned yet is any of the personal drama in the novel, of which there is no shortage. Frankie has varying relationships with 3 men throughout the book and while this narrative is compelling, it’s secondary. I liked Frankie’s interactions with Jamie and Rye and Henry. I think they all add something different to the story and are good tools for engaging the reader. Jamie and Rye are used to explore Frankie’s personal moral code and demonstrate the heartbreak of war, while Henry is a good man and friend who helps Frankie along her healing journey. What I didn’t think was needed was the soap opera plot.

This is probably my one criticism of the book. This is my 4th Kristin Hannah book, so I knew the final act soapbox was coming, but it disappoints me every time. Hannah always adds a surprising (or not so surprising) twist to her books and it irks me because I think it’s both unnecessary and manipulative. Some readers love it because it really reinforces the heartbreak and tragedy of the story, but while still compelling, I think that Frankie’s romantic relationships are the least interesting thing about her.

Yes, Frankie did need to hit rock bottom to finally seek the help she needed. Overall, I did like how her healing journey was handled, but I feel that certain elements of the story are included only to shock and manipulate the reader emotionally. You don’t need the intense personal drama Kristin! I adore Frankie of her own merits. I had the same criticism about The Great Alone and felt the dramatic ending marred an otherwise perfect story.

But I can get over it. These dramatic elements are a way to further engage your reader. It does make for compelling storytelling and I know a lot of readers love it. I just don’t want Frankie’s personal relationships to detract from the much more important themes of this book. I’d still highly highly recommend this book. It evoked so much critical thought for me and I’m holding it to such a high standard. I questioned whether I’d outgrown Kristin Hannah after I didn’t care for The Four Winds, but I will absolutely continue to read her books. A fantastic read!

The Women is my book club’s pick for May, so my rating may change after I meet with them next week, but for now, it’s 4.5 stars, rounded up.

The Lost Apothecary

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Rating: ⭐⭐.5
Author: Sarah Penner
Genres: Historical Fiction
Pub. Date: Mar. 2021 (read May 2021)

Sadly, this was one of my most disappointing reads so far this year. Not that it was a particularly bad book or anything, I just thought the plot held so much promise and it was one of most anticipated books. So when it didn’t live up to my expectations, it was definitely disappointing. 

The Lost Apothecary is set in the late 1700’s and tells the story of an apothecary, Nella, who dispenses both remedies and poisons to her solely female clientele. The goal of her apothecary has always been to help women, but after the death of her mother, Nella decides to branch out to offer women a different kind of help, that of murder. Her one rule is that her poisons are never to be used against women, only against men. 

At the same time, we have a modern day story of Caroline Parcewell, a young housewife who has just discovered an upsetting secret about her husband and decides to travel to London on their 10 year anniversary, alone. While there, she discovers about the existence of the old apothecary and sets out to learn more about it.

The plot sounds intriguing right? So why didn’t I like it? Honestly… I didn’t see the point. I thought I was going to get a nuanced story about women in tight places who seek help to improve their difficult situations. I wanted a morally ambiguous story about women and sisterhood, but instead I got a lightweight drama about a blackmail scenario that I struggled to believe wouldn’t have already happened to Nella at some point during her career as a dispenser of poisons.

There is one interesting story in the beginning when we are introduced to Eliza, but after that, I felt the author didn’t do anything new or interesting with the plot. I struggled to relate with any of the characters because I don’t think any of them were given the depth they deserved. We’re given a surface level story about Nella that I think is intended to be shocking and sad, but Penner never manages to quite connect you with her characters in a meaningful way. It’s a debut novel and she falls into the classic trap of “show don’t tell”.

I feel like I make this complaint about a lot of books, yet authors keep making the same mistake. Penner had a great idea for the book, but the execution and character development just weren’t enough to really give this story wings. It’s a great idea, but I don’t really know what Penner was trying to say, what was the point? I felt like I was getting so many conflicting messages. One of Nella’s key motivations is that she wants to keep her register alive to give voices to women instead of silencing them, but if that puts the women at risk of DEATH, then that is the strongest way of ensuring you do actually silence them. Then Caroline further silences women by keeping what she discovers about Eliza at the end a secret as well. The messages were contradictory and it really made me question what point the author was trying to make.

So let’s talk about Caroline. Why do so many historical fiction books insist on having the modern day timeline. No one cares about it! People are almost always more interested in the historical timeline as learning about the past is generally what inspires someone to pick up historical fiction in the first place, so why do so many books have modern day timelines. I was initially intrigued with how the apothecary was going to link to Caroline, but it ended up just being a fluke and I thought the scenario of events that occurred in her timeline were so outlandish and unlikely that it was hard to take her story seriously at all. 

Anyways, at the end of the day, it wasn’t a totally bad book, but it also wasn’t a great book. I’m somewhere between 2.5 and 3 stars. I read it with my book club and we were all disappointed, so despite the intriguing-sounding plot, I wouldn’t recommend this one.    

The Woman They Could Not Silence

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Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐.5
Author: Kate Moore
Genres: Non-Fiction, History
Pub. Date: Jun. 21 2021 (read Jan. 2021)

To all the women who have had someone call them crazy.

I stumbled across The Woman They Could Not Silence on Netgalley and immediately put in a request because I loved Kate Moore’s last book, The Radium Girls. In a similar vein, her new book shines a light on an important part of women’s history that has been somewhat lost to time. Moore excels at writing this kind of journalistic memoir in a way that is riveting to read and immediately connects readers to the protagonists. Despite this being a non-fiction book, it reads like fiction, bringing historical figures to light in a way that makes readers really empathize with their plight. In short, Moore knows how to ignite righteous anger at the injustices that have been, and continue to be, perpetrated against women.

This story starts in Illinois in 1860 and centers around one woman, Elizabeth Packard. After 21 years of marriage and bearing 6 children with her husband Theophilus, he has Elizabeth committed to the Illinois State Insane Asylum against her will. Her crime? Questioning Theophilus’ bible study teachings in the church in which he is a pastor. Pushing back against your husband, questioning religion, and being intelligent in general were all signs of mental illness in the 1860’s, and as such, Theophilus has no difficulty in getting his wife locked up.

Elizabeth immediately fights back against the claim that she is insane, but recognizing that such pleas will only make her look more insane, she does her best to maintain her dignity at the asylum and after her first meeting with the state hospital director, Dr. Andrew McFarland, with whom she develops a good relationship, she is sure her release will not be long in coming.

Though Dr. McFarland is unable to determine the root of Elizabeth’s insanity, he is convinced it is there and will be revealed in time. Due to her intelligence, she is granted special privileges at the hospital. However, despite these privileges, Elizabeth soon becomes aware of the level of abuse that is being perpetrated by hospital aides within the walls of the hospital and starts stirring up trouble with the other inmates. This results in the revoking of Elizabeth’s privileges and life at the hospital soon becomes very hard for her.

The rest of the novel is about Elizabeth’s struggles in the asylum and her fight for freedom. Elizabeth is very intelligent and an accomplished writer, and though Dr. McFarland tries to silence her within the walls of the hospital, she is determined to record and share her story. She makes friends within the asylum and keeps a secret journal of all the abuses she witnesses. I couldn’t help but compare her to Alexander Hamilton because the woman constantly wrote like she was running out of time!

However, her goals are not only to record history, but to change it. Elizabeth is strategic in going about this. She knows that raging against the machine will get you nowhere in an insane asylum and so she goes about cultivating relationships and manipulating those around her, including McFarland. I found it really interesting to read about Elizabeth’s experiences and progression while at the asylum.

The whole system is completely unjust for so many reasons, but the two that stand are that, first, almost no proof is required to lock a woman up in an asylum. All Theophilus needed was 2 certificates of insanity from local doctors, which he was easily able to procure thanks to his influence as a man and pastor. Unmarried women are entitled to a trial before being shipped off to the asylum, but married women need only the desire of their husbands. As they are considered his property, they are not permitted any voice of their own. Many of the other women in the asylum were in the same situation as Elizabeth and had been sent there without any legal rights.

Second, the whole premise of what qualifies a person as insane or cured is entirely stacked against the patients. Like I said, women could basically be committed for showing any inkling of self thought or governance. Theophilus didn’t like that Elizabeth was questioning things or flouting his authority, so he quickly put an end to it. But what’s really enraging is that women who push back against the diagnosis of insanity only further the diagnosis. Showing any kind of indignation at anything is basically a sign of insanity. Women were only considered cured when they would finally submit to everything: the will of the abusive attendants, their doctor, and their husbands. The injustice of the system is that it literally conspires to make you insane and then only release you at the moment when your spirit is finally irreparably broken.

I say Elizabeth’s progression is interesting because she somehow manages to hold on to this one thread of truth throughout the entire ordeal, the idea that ‘I am not insane’. She is determined to be free and she is determined to be free under her own will, not through submission. The longer she is imprisoned, the more frenzied she becomes in her desperation to get out. She documents her experiences and ideas in a kind of manic fervour that you can’t help but question if maybe she is going a little bit insane. Rather than diminish, her ideas of justice and equality of women only grow more and more ambitious to the point where she envisions women as totally equal to men and able to even hold public office, something that is quite radical in 1860 and unlikely to get you released from an insane asylum.

I don’t want to give away the whole book because even though it’s historical, it’s still a story and I did take joy from the experience of having no idea whether Elizabeth was going to succeed and to what degree. She inspired a book to be written about her, so I knew she was going to have some level of success, but it was honestly so bleak, it was hard to imagine how a woman would ever recover from either the trauma or the stigma of such an asylum.

But Elizabeth is a fighter and I honestly can’t imagine a woman with more spirit. She had a lot of influence on early American politics and it is a shame that her name is virtually unknown, even among the roll call of suffragettes. But such is the way of women’s history and I love that we keep hearing about more and more women who have contributed greatly to our society but who’s legacies have been little preserved.

The author added a post script at the end of the book that I really liked. The book will make obvious the impact Elizabeth’s writings and efforts had on the women’s rights movement, but it also highlights how these same ideas are still present in today’s society. The idea of insanity is still used today to threaten, discredit, and silence women. Men have always used the excuse of ‘craziness’ to belittle women. The idea that fault lies only with women is still wildly believed by many men and women, even if only subconsciously. When men don’t like the ideas or actions put forth by women, it’s only too easy for them to dismiss them entirely with the callously thrown away phrase “she’s crazy”. I think we see it used most often by men to either dismiss the actions or requests or a partner or to speak of their ex. But even women use it to describe other women, particularly in scenarios where it relates to how other women interact with men (I’m thinking of reality television here).

But the idea is everywhere. Moore draws attention to its presence even at the top level of the American government when Trump once screamed at Pelosi for being wrong in the head. Powerful men still seek to silence women through the threat of insanity. For this reason, I thought this an extremely important read. A lot of the content didn’t surprise me, but experiencing it through Elizabeth’s eyes did help to put it into perspective. Even after all the work that Elizabeth did, Dr. McFarland is still kindly remembered by the eyes of history while Elizabeth has more or less been forgotten.

This wasn’t a perfect book. I thought the writing was a little simplified in the beginning, though it got much stronger as the story went on. I also thought the story could have been shortened, some parts are a little over indulgent and I fear the length may deter some readers from this. But overall, still an excellent read and I would definitely recommend!

Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982

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Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐
Author: Cho Nam-Joo
Genres: Fiction
Pub. date: Oct. 2016 (read Sep. 2020)

Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 is a small book that packs a punch. I think this has only recently been translated to English (although I’m not totally sure), but I’m so glad it was because it’s such an interesting read about the lives of Korean women and how relatable sexism is all over the world.

As the name suggests, this book is a short recount of Kim Jiyoung’s life, from her childhood, school years, early career, and eventually motherhood. At every stage of her life Jiyoung recognizes how she is treated differently. How her brother was prioritized above her as a child, how she was misunderstood in middle school, how hard she had to struggle to find a job and how little her employer valued her compared to her male colleagues when she finally did start working. Then it covers the challenges of becoming a mother and the different expectations that are placed on women and how their desires and dreams are always de-prioritized.

There’s nothing shocking in this book. I was in no way surprised by the way society de-valued women or the hardships Jiyoung was up against. But I think seeing these inequalities and microaggressions spread out over the course of one person’s life really does push home the unfairness of it all. When you take into account each incident on it’s own, it’s easy to dismiss, but seeing the collective impact is really frustrating and exhausting.

It’s also easy to ignore the inequalities of those in other countries. “oh but we live in a developed country, it’s much better here”, but the fact was that even though this book takes place in Korea, everything was just so damn relatable! The mentality of boys will be boys as a child just perpetuates society’s reluctance to ever hold men accountable for their actions. Prioritizing your son’s needs feeds into a culture of valuing and rewarding men’s contributions more than women’s. And preparing only your daughters for parenthood and marriage creates a generation of men that have no domestic skills and leave women to assume all the roles of unpaid labour.

It’s a simple book and a quick read, but a meaningful one. I love what the author did with the ending and thought it was so genius. It’s easy to identify the ways in which society has failed, but how can we possibly change it when there’s so little understanding or desire from men to see any change. It’s a system that has always benefited men, so even though they might empathize with women like Jiyoung, ultimately it makes no difference to them. The system benefits them and therefore there’s no incentive to change it. I think this is one of the greatest challenges feminism faces and no matter where women are from, we can all relate.

Wild Embers

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Rating: ⭐⭐⭐.5
Author: Nikita Gill
Genres: Poetry, Feminism
Pub. date: Nov. 2017 (read Nov. 2019)

I read Wild Embers as part of my continued foray into Poetry. Actually, this was the first anthology I picked up when I first got the hankering to read some poetry, but I ended up getting distracted by Andrea Gibson’s, Lord of the Butterflies when the Goodreads Choice Awards were announced and ended up putting this one aside for awhile.

I do feel like my review may be a little unfair because I did really enjoy the first half of this book. I was feeling very inspired and enjoyed the feminist angle and unapolegeticness that Gill takes in her poetry. But after I set it aside to read Gibson’s latest anthology, which I think is fantastic, the second half of Wild Embers felt just a little bit lacklustre. Gill’s writing didn’t have quite as much depth for me as Gibson’s, which rings of such emotional authenticity. But I don’t want to be unfair and compare the two too much, because they are totally different and I did still really enjoy Gill’s poetry as well.

Gill is all about female independence and being the heroes of our own stories. She doesn’t want her own children to be handed down the same themes of reliance on men that she learned from fairy tales and Disney princess movies growing up. One section of her book is actually dedicated to rewriting the stories of the Disney princesses and I really enjoyed that part. I just felt some of the themes got a little bit repetitive after awhile, although I really liked how Gill also spent time writing about mental illness and the benefits of therapy.