I tend to resist buying hardcovers, mostly because I’m cheap, but it can be a real struggle. I was an only child for 18 years so I’m all about immediate gratification. As an adult, I deny myself nothing. Hardcover books create a sort of perfect storm in me; I want to read this book, but I would like to do it for about 15 bucks cheaper. When I buy a hardcover, it’s because the premise is just too enticing. Pro tip: hardcovers are always cheaper online 😀
TL;DR, spoiler-free review: The premise of Red Clocks frightens me because of its possibility but it comforts me by illustrating how we would resist such a future. Leni Zumas’s writing style is unique and enveloping and her story will hold onto you until the very end.
You’re-verbose-and-I-like-it review: Each chapter begins with the title of one of the women, such as The Biographer or The Mender (with the exception of Eivør; her chapters are differentiated from the others by font). I noticed right away that the women were referred to by title rather than name (ex: “The daughter knew…” or “the wife’s jaw tenses”). It is not until later chapters that the women indirectly introduce each other by using another woman’s name in the context of her story (ex: the biographer might call on the daughter in class by name, or the wife might address the biographer and invite her for dinner). I think this is a really compelling way of connecting the women and unifying their cause. They do not have the same agenda (one wants an abortion, one wants to be pregnant, etc.), but they want the same thing: autonomy over their own bodies and lives. By having the characters name each other, it brings them, and all women, together in the struggle for their basic human rights.
With a couple exceptions, the men in Red Clocks are pretty obnoxious. Susan’s (the wife) husband actually made me want to punch him when she comes home with the kids and he whines about having to make his own lunch. While that’s irritating, Ro’s (the biographer) fertility doctor is almost negligent in that he doesn’t think of testing her for a disease of which she exhibits symptoms until she asks him too. It is Gin (the mender) that brings this to Ro’s attention. These examples are not to say that men are entirely useless, but it does illustrate how often and in how many insidious ways a patriarchal system works against the best interests of women.
Perhaps most importantly, Zumas does not end her book with a happy little bow. SPOILERS AHEAD IN 3… 2… 1… Ro realizes she can’t be selfish and instead must support her frightened student carry out the choice Ro believes she has the right to make; Susan, after much agonizing, leaves her husband (who has the nerve to act shocked. Seriously want to punch that guy). This is not to say that the book ends on a negative note. The dust jacket copy asks the question, “what is a woman for?” The book quietly answers that question in the end, responding with: women are for a cause that will ensure it is no longer acceptable to ask that question.