No matter what genre you typically read, The Handmaid’s Tale drags you in and holds you. It forged a path for dystopian literature since, I believe, and I am certain that The Hunger Games would never have existed without it. Now I am amped to read it again!
dystopia: n. an imagined place or state in which everything is unpleasant or bad
There are books that wrestle with your insides. They twist upon themselves, cramping, writhing, peristalsing until a peculiar taste rises into your mouth. It surprises you with its bitter, jagged notes…this doesn’t do it justice. The taste defies description. It is distinct, like a memory, uniquely poised to pounce on you in an unguarded moment. The years pass. The details fade. But the taste of the story you can always recall, recommending it with a shudder, discussing it with other readers in knowing, reverent susurrations. The adjectives communicating little. The tone, volumes. ‘Good’ takes on a different meaning. ‘Well-written’ means you cannot forget: Branded, as you have been, by a master misanthrope.
From my past, Animal Farm, is one such book. 1984 and Brave New World stir similarly. Seven Types of Ambiguity and Rohypnol also…
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