A postmodern fable of Afrofuturism and food justice that provides plenty to chew on.
An animal rights activist hurdles toward reparative cannibalism in Hunter’s debut speculative novel.
How did the Black American vegan Charlotte-Noa Tibbit come to be seated at a dinner table in Haiti, in the year 2060, dining on viandechar blanc, a delicacy composed of citrus-marinated, pepper-roasted white human thigh? “I need you to know that my citrus-seared thigh-steak was more than just five-star delicious, it was medicinal,” Charlotte explains to the squeamish reader. “Because the thing about eating is that it’s more than organs and chemicals and cells; it’s what’s playing in your head while you chew. All that you’re thinking and suppressing when you swallow and digest.” The conditions of Charlotte’s meal stem from the techno-dystopia (or is it a utopia?) in which Charlotte lives: a world in which the reorganized Caribbean nations of New Caricom have outlawed the farming of meat, though “culled” meat—from any animal—is allowed. But what precisely is Charlotte’s role in this new world? Her path across a reimagined, sustainable Haiti to a luxury hotel featuring “epicurean anthropophagy” on the menu started back in the semi-autonomous states of America, where Charlotte and her Eurindigenous girlfriend, KJ, were registered activists with the Non-Human Animal Rights Collective, battling the forces of capitalism and autocracy. Or does it go back further, to Charlotte’s teenage insecurities related to her Black queer identity? Does it go back to Charlotte’s mother, the lifestyle coach Nicole Thibidaux, host of a wildly popular show on HelloCast? Or even further, to the Haitian nanny who cared for Charlotte when she was a baby and inducted the infant into the mysterious practice known as the flesh tribute? Chapter by chapter, Charlotte sinks deeper into herself, probing the roots of her own radicalization while observing the ways that society shifts in predictably unpredictable ways. In a world where even humans count as animals, it’s impossible to know where one falls on the cradle-to-table pipeline until the final meal is served.
Hunter tells Charlotte’s story backward, demonstrating the ways in which history is built from a seemingly endless series of individual decisions and acts, most of them made without thought or care for what destruction might result. The author captures the absurd and contradictory ways that capitalism, culture, and justice movements intersect, as here where the titular Chickenman, an advocate for a thoroughly inhumane product called Guiltless Real Chicken, explains the beauty of the food: “Chicken, we’ve found, is both culturally specific and shape-shiftingly neutral…Everyone has a proprietary interest, and that’s a plus! You have Chicken Kiev, Chicken and Dumplings, Chicken Marsala, Chicken Yakitori…” For all its humor and occasional horror, the novel is a dense, difficult read due both to its structure and the never fully illuminated elements of the world. Hunter does not hold readers’ hands, forcing them instead to sink or swim with every strange turn or revelation. Those who stick with Charlotte’s journey will come to appreciate the author’s inventive storytelling, as well as the complex and vital ideas she serves up.
A postmodern fable of Afrofuturism and food justice that provides plenty to chew on.Pub Date: June 2, 2022
ISBN: 9781952600401
Page Count: 198
Publisher: Whiskey Tit
Review Posted Online: Oct. 18, 2023
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Dec. 1, 2023
Review Program: Kirkus Indie
Suspenseful, full of incident, and not obviously necessary.
Atwood goes back to Gilead.
The Handmaid’s Tale (1985), consistently regarded as a masterpiece of 20th-century literature, has gained new attention in recent years with the success of the Hulu series as well as fresh appreciation from readers who feel like this story has new relevance in America’s current political climate. Atwood herself has spoken about how news headlines have made her dystopian fiction seem eerily plausible, and it’s not difficult to imagine her wanting to revisit Gilead as the TV show has sped past where her narrative ended. Like the novel that preceded it, this sequel is presented as found documents—first-person accounts of life inside a misogynistic theocracy from three informants. There is Agnes Jemima, a girl who rejects the marriage her family arranges for her but still has faith in God and Gilead. There’s Daisy, who learns on her 16th birthday that her whole life has been a lie. And there's Aunt Lydia, the woman responsible for turning women into Handmaids. This approach gives readers insight into different aspects of life inside and outside Gilead, but it also leads to a book that sometimes feels overstuffed. The Handmaid’s Tale combined exquisite lyricism with a powerful sense of urgency, as if a thoughtful, perceptive woman was racing against time to give witness to her experience. That narrator hinted at more than she said; Atwood seemed to trust readers to fill in the gaps. This dynamic created an atmosphere of intimacy. However curious we might be about Gilead and the resistance operating outside that country, what we learn here is that what Atwood left unsaid in the first novel generated more horror and outrage than explicit detail can. And the more we get to know Agnes, Daisy, and Aunt Lydia, the less convincing they become. It’s hard, of course, to compete with a beloved classic, so maybe the best way to read this new book is to forget about The Handmaid’s Tale and enjoy it as an artful feminist thriller.
Suspenseful, full of incident, and not obviously necessary.Pub Date: Sept. 10, 2019
ISBN: 978-0-385-54378-1
Page Count: 432
Publisher: Nan A. Talese
Review Posted Online: Sept. 3, 2019
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Sept. 15, 2019
SEEN & HEARD
SEEN & HEARD
SEEN & HEARD
Uneven but fitfully amusing.
Betrayed by her husband, a severely depressed young woman gets drawn into the over-the-top festivities at a lavish wedding.
Phoebe Stone, who teaches English literature at a St. Louis college, is plotting her own demise. Her husband, Matt, has left her for another woman, and Phoebe is taking it hard. Indeed, she's determined just where and how she will end it all: at an oceanfront hotel in Newport, where she will lie on a king-sized canopy bed and take a bottle of her cat’s painkillers. At the hotel, Phoebe meets bride-to-be Lila, a headstrong rich girl presiding over her own extravagant six-day wedding celebration. Lila thought she had booked every room in the hotel, and learning of Phoebe's suicidal intentions, she forbids this stray guest from disrupting the nuptials: “No. You definitely can’t kill yourself. This is my wedding week.” After the punchy opening, a grim flashback to the meltdown of Phoebe's marriage temporarily darkens the mood, but things pick up when spoiled Lila interrupts Phoebe's preparations and sweeps her up in the wedding juggernaut. The slide from earnest drama to broad farce is somewhat jarring, but from this point on, Espach crafts an enjoyable—if overstuffed—comedy of manners. When the original maid of honor drops out, Phoebe is persuaded, against her better judgment, to take her place. There’s some fun to be had here: The wedding party—including groom-to-be Gary, a widower, and his 11-year-old daughter—takes surfing lessons; the women in the group have a session with a Sex Woman. But it all goes on too long, and the humor can seem forced, reaching a low point when someone has sex with the vintage wedding car (you don’t want to know the details). Later, when two characters have a meet-cute in a hot tub, readers will guess exactly how the marriage plot resolves.
Uneven but fitfully amusing.Pub Date: July 30, 2024
ISBN: 9781250899576
Page Count: 384
Publisher: Henry Holt
Review Posted Online: Sept. 13, 2024
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
SEEN & HEARD
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