हन्द्मैद'स क्रेप

To be straight up and blunt, this book sucks. I am not saying this just to be a pessimistic downer, only to depict my frustrations with this book. As the story drags along I find it harder and harder to keep up because my general interest declines at an exponential rate. The only thing worse than a book that plays with the idea of woman’s rights, is a book about woman’s rights with a futuristic Nazi regime resembling setting. It could be that I do not pick up on the intellectual references and merely am angered by the horrendously drawn out descriptions of random shit of no importance. “I saved the cupboard until the third day. I looked carefully over the door first, inside and out, then the walls with their brass hooks- how could they have overlooked the hooks? Why didn’t they re-move them? Too close to the floor? But still, a stocking, that’s all you’d need. And the rod with the plastic hangers, my dresses hanging on them, the red woolen cape for cold weather, the shawl.” BLAH BLAH BLAH. I’ve had enough of reading about a description of things like oranges for a page and a half. The one quote I liked in this book really related to me and is probably the only thing I will care enough to underline. “I lie in bed still trembling. You can wet the rim of a glass and run your finger around the rim and it will make a sound. This is what I feel like: this sound of glass. I feel like the word shatter. I want to be with someone.