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lady_n_beautiful_reads's review against another edition
I tried really hard to like this book—so many folks loved this book. I just cannot. It was an awful slog to try to read.
This is supposed to be an adult man looking back on his childhood. From the outset, the author minimizes the incredible bullying of Owen Meany (and if this book was written as the narrator growing, I would be more forgiving of this, but since he is an adult looking back….I struggle with his lack of reflection on how awful they were to Owen). Additionally, the narrator is tediously descriptive and rambling at times, returning back to previously covered topics (it is written almost as though the reader is sitting and talking with the narrator—it’s a stream of consciousness at times). Women are treated terribly—either they are mean, worthless, or sexualized. The narrator makes out repeated with his female cousin, talks about his mother’s breasts and how attractive she is, and discusses how worthless Owen’s mother is.
Because so many loved this book, I skipped to the last chapter and read about 20 pages. The writing style remained the same, with ZERO reflection/growth of the narrator.
SPOLER (skip down to the last paragraph to avoid): Owen carves his own tombstone and died in Vietnam. The narrator believes that Owen foresaw his own death. Yet, there was no discussion in the pages I read that reflected on maybe Owen having depression/mental health issues and taking his own life purposefully on that day.
If this book was 400 pages shorter—even 300–maybe I would find it more palatable. I am also not religious, so maybe if I had that faith, I would have overlooked the glaring sexism, bullying, and lack of reflection on mental health.
This is supposed to be an adult man looking back on his childhood. From the outset, the author minimizes the incredible bullying of Owen Meany (and if this book was written as the narrator growing, I would be more forgiving of this, but since he is an adult looking back….I struggle with his lack of reflection on how awful they were to Owen). Additionally, the narrator is tediously descriptive and rambling at times, returning back to previously covered topics (it is written almost as though the reader is sitting and talking with the narrator—it’s a stream of consciousness at times). Women are treated terribly—either they are mean, worthless, or sexualized. The narrator makes out repeated with his female cousin, talks about his mother’s breasts and how attractive she is, and discusses how worthless Owen’s mother is.
Because so many loved this book, I skipped to the last chapter and read about 20 pages. The writing style remained the same, with ZERO reflection/growth of the narrator.
SPOLER (skip down to the last paragraph to avoid): Owen carves his own tombstone and died in Vietnam. The narrator believes that Owen foresaw his own death. Yet, there was no discussion in the pages I read that reflected on maybe Owen having depression/mental health issues and taking his own life purposefully on that day.
If this book was 400 pages shorter—even 300–maybe I would find it more palatable. I am also not religious, so maybe if I had that faith, I would have overlooked the glaring sexism, bullying, and lack of reflection on mental health.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Bullying, Sexism, Death of parent, Grief, and Mental illness
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