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manarn's review against another edition
3.0
3.5
just sooo… overwrought
did not enjoy the writing style
just sooo… overwrought
did not enjoy the writing style
squid_vicious's review against another edition
5.0
This is the kind of book that will knock the wind out of you, ignite passionate conversations and force you to think very hard about things that are not really pleasant. I went through an impressive range of emotions reading this book, and while I can’t say that it was an enjoyable read, it stayed with me, and while I do love it, it’s a complicated kind of love. I love that it made me think so hard, that it shocked me and that it was also surprisingly moving.
Full disclosure: I don’t want children. I was just never interested in them, or in being a mom. There are many personal reasons for this, and I am not going to get into them here, but what I will say is that maternity is a very loaded issue, and people have very strong feelings about it. This book will make you react, no matter what your feelings on motherhood and child rearing are. In fact, if you have an opinion, any opinion, about the nature of love and attachment between parents and their children, this book will make you react strongly.
This is the story of woman, Eva, who didn’t want children, who had them anyway, and for whom the experience culminated in tragedy. She writes letters to her estranged husband about their son, who committed the terrible (but oh too common) crime of mass shooting at his high school (not a spoiler, it’s on the book jacket). She wonders if he turned out that way because she was a bad mother, or if he always had it in him and that no amount of motherly devotion could have changed that.
Nature vs. nurture. Not a new debate, or a new horror trope (see “The Bad Seed”), but Eva’s constant questioning of herself as she watches her son grow into a manipulative and scary young man is much more horrific than the detailing of the gruesome crime he ends up committing. You see Eva constantly being told by everyone that mothers fall in love with their children the moment they are born and that to not worship your child is abnormal and unnatural. To make matters worse, the titular Kevin only seems to misbehave when there is no one around but Eva. When his father is there, he is a perfect, adorable child…
I read a lot of reviews about it, and clearly this is a very divisive book. Some people think Eva is a monster, and others believe that Kevin is simply evil. I find it wonderful that the book never really settles that and remains open for interpretation like this. The ending remains ambiguous. But it is also pretty devastating. Eva is certainly not a perfect mother, but she’s not the worse one (in literature or real life) either. I found myself hating her and sympathizing with her simultaneously. At the end of the day, no parent is perfect, children do what they can with what they have, and sometimes that’s for the best, and sometimes it’s for the worse, but obviously there are no foolproof formula for happiness.
I highly recommend this book, but only if you are ready for a rough ride and are not afraid of feeling challenged and having some pretty disturbing scenes etched in your mind for a long time.
Full disclosure: I don’t want children. I was just never interested in them, or in being a mom. There are many personal reasons for this, and I am not going to get into them here, but what I will say is that maternity is a very loaded issue, and people have very strong feelings about it. This book will make you react, no matter what your feelings on motherhood and child rearing are. In fact, if you have an opinion, any opinion, about the nature of love and attachment between parents and their children, this book will make you react strongly.
This is the story of woman, Eva, who didn’t want children, who had them anyway, and for whom the experience culminated in tragedy. She writes letters to her estranged husband about their son, who committed the terrible (but oh too common) crime of mass shooting at his high school (not a spoiler, it’s on the book jacket). She wonders if he turned out that way because she was a bad mother, or if he always had it in him and that no amount of motherly devotion could have changed that.
Nature vs. nurture. Not a new debate, or a new horror trope (see “The Bad Seed”), but Eva’s constant questioning of herself as she watches her son grow into a manipulative and scary young man is much more horrific than the detailing of the gruesome crime he ends up committing. You see Eva constantly being told by everyone that mothers fall in love with their children the moment they are born and that to not worship your child is abnormal and unnatural. To make matters worse, the titular Kevin only seems to misbehave when there is no one around but Eva. When his father is there, he is a perfect, adorable child…
I read a lot of reviews about it, and clearly this is a very divisive book. Some people think Eva is a monster, and others believe that Kevin is simply evil. I find it wonderful that the book never really settles that and remains open for interpretation like this. The ending remains ambiguous. But it is also pretty devastating. Eva is certainly not a perfect mother, but she’s not the worse one (in literature or real life) either. I found myself hating her and sympathizing with her simultaneously. At the end of the day, no parent is perfect, children do what they can with what they have, and sometimes that’s for the best, and sometimes it’s for the worse, but obviously there are no foolproof formula for happiness.
I highly recommend this book, but only if you are ready for a rough ride and are not afraid of feeling challenged and having some pretty disturbing scenes etched in your mind for a long time.
xinyingintherain's review against another edition
dark
sad
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.75
a lot of flowery language that made it hard to read esp the first half of the book (ended up skimming quite a bit), the ending was good and i didn’t expect the twist, and i think it’ll stay with me for a while, but i wouldn’t say that it’s worth trudging through the initial half for that on hindsight.
raenoel's review against another edition
4.0
I debated between three and four stars for a WHILE on this. Like actual days passed while I let my feelings stew and gathered my thoughts.
To begin, it should be noted that this story is definitely worth reading, but the majority of it is so drawn out and over written that it becomes tedious to get through. I listened to this on audible and am so glad I did because I think this would have been my first ever DNF that I would have given up on in the first chapter after my eyes started to bleed from overuse.
It can become easy to zone out during Eva’s lengthy, repetitive speeches that are pretentious and, for the most part, add nothing to the story. I imagine that if I physically read this I would have been stuck in an endless loop of rereading the same sentences over and over again because I was so bored by Eva that I forgot what I was reading as I was actively reading it. However, it was for this very reason I ultimately decided to give it 4 stars.
At a little past halfway through this looonnnnnggggg (mainly boring) read I realized I was Kevin. That me, as the reader, was Kevin. I was in his place for every stupid rant Eva went on and on about for the 15th time. The repetitive speeches, the pretentious comments, the classist attitude towards others, etc. It was torture for me as the reader to hear it for the thousandth time, so it was obviously torture for Kevin to live with. I 100% believe Eva was the cause for Kevin’s behavior as opposed to him being a sociopath. He was actually a genius with untapped potential which was worse than wasted because it was acknowledged before being deliberately abandoned.
My theory is that each of his actions were a direct cry for help to the one person in his life who he believed he was intellectually equivalent to, but did not give him the time of day for no reason that was ever explained to him. I understand we only have her perspective in this story, but the only character I genuinely ever liked was Kevin, which I’m pretty sure was not the intended effect. Sure, we’re meant to feel empathy for him, but along with Eva and Franklin and their family. I did not. I hated every other character in this book. I think the fact it stayed with me after finishing it was only because I was thinking about it from the perspective of being Kevin, which in turn made me like it.
In the end it’s worth the read, or I should say the listen, cause ain’t nobody got time to read 23 twelve letter words in a row over and over again.
To begin, it should be noted that this story is definitely worth reading, but the majority of it is so drawn out and over written that it becomes tedious to get through. I listened to this on audible and am so glad I did because I think this would have been my first ever DNF that I would have given up on in the first chapter after my eyes started to bleed from overuse.
It can become easy to zone out during Eva’s lengthy, repetitive speeches that are pretentious and, for the most part, add nothing to the story. I imagine that if I physically read this I would have been stuck in an endless loop of rereading the same sentences over and over again because I was so bored by Eva that I forgot what I was reading as I was actively reading it. However, it was for this very reason I ultimately decided to give it 4 stars.
At a little past halfway through this looonnnnnggggg (mainly boring) read I realized I was Kevin. That me, as the reader, was Kevin. I was in his place for every stupid rant Eva went on and on about for the 15th time. The repetitive speeches, the pretentious comments, the classist attitude towards others, etc. It was torture for me as the reader to hear it for the thousandth time, so it was obviously torture for Kevin to live with. I 100% believe Eva was the cause for Kevin’s behavior as opposed to him being a sociopath. He was actually a genius with untapped potential which was worse than wasted because it was acknowledged before being deliberately abandoned.
My theory is that each of his actions were a direct cry for help to the one person in his life who he believed he was intellectually equivalent to, but did not give him the time of day for no reason that was ever explained to him. I understand we only have her perspective in this story, but the only character I genuinely ever liked was Kevin, which I’m pretty sure was not the intended effect. Sure, we’re meant to feel empathy for him, but along with Eva and Franklin and their family. I did not. I hated every other character in this book. I think the fact it stayed with me after finishing it was only because I was thinking about it from the perspective of being Kevin, which in turn made me like it.
In the end it’s worth the read, or I should say the listen, cause ain’t nobody got time to read 23 twelve letter words in a row over and over again.
sarahstoltman's review against another edition
5.0
beautiful, heart wrenching, nuanced, lyrical, horrifying, disturbing, all of the above. when i started this book and realized it was 500+ pages and an epistolary novel, i considered putting it down. i’m so glad i didn’t. eva describes her son kevin with such horror and malice and contempt that you begin to view him with the same coldness and fear, forgetting the entire time that he is still just a child. the common media diatribe against mothers who ignore warning signs is ever present and yet, even as a reader who is told the ending in the very first chapter, kevin’s unusual habits and loaded statements slip by unnoticed in the larger context of his apathy and artifice. only at the end are we given a glimpse past the mask into the mind of a scared child, terrified of his transition from juvie to gen pop and no longer sure of the reasons for his unspeakable violence and disregard for human life. eva’s closing remarks in her final letter to her husband gutted me, as she finally admits what horrified her all along: she loves her child despite it all.
lanieq's review against another edition
2.0
Like many other reviewers on here, I hated nearly all of the characters in this book. I'm not sure I liked little Celia, though I did feel sorry for her. My issue with the mother, Eva, who narrates the story through letters to the father, Franklin, is actually NOT the fact that she does not like her son, Kevin. My issue with her is just the plain fact that she is insufferably pretentious and full of herself. The father is either delusional or downright blind, and Kevin is not only a sociopath but one that isn't even "interesting" to read about. There are moments where Eva comes across as a real person, with vulnerabilities and real feelings, and I suppose that her pretentiousness is a protective device of sorts. Likewise there are moments when Kevin seems like a real person, and his apathy and disgust with everything are likewise defense mechanisms. But it's certainly not something I wanted to spend the better part of 400 pages dealing with.
You already know at the beginning that Kevin has slaughtered a bunch of students and staff at his high school, so there really isn't much in the way of suspense. You do see Kevin "develop" over the years as his parents' marriage falls apart, and there is a sort of "shocking" revelation that I saw coming about 100 pages into the book. In the end, I'm not really sure why I kept reading despite the intense dislike I felt for all of the characters (Eva's social commentary is especially grating) and the queasy feeling I had throughout much of the second half. Maybe just the stubborn need to finish something I had started, or to not let the book get the better of me. In the end, I'm not exactly sorry I read it, but not especially glad I did either.
You already know at the beginning that Kevin has slaughtered a bunch of students and staff at his high school, so there really isn't much in the way of suspense. You do see Kevin "develop" over the years as his parents' marriage falls apart, and there is a sort of "shocking" revelation that I saw coming about 100 pages into the book. In the end, I'm not really sure why I kept reading despite the intense dislike I felt for all of the characters (Eva's social commentary is especially grating) and the queasy feeling I had throughout much of the second half. Maybe just the stubborn need to finish something I had started, or to not let the book get the better of me. In the end, I'm not exactly sorry I read it, but not especially glad I did either.
kleonora's review against another edition
1.0
Verdict: A well written but gratuitously soul corroding piece of fiction. I’d rather I never read it.
One day I will write a book called 'We Don't Need to Talk About Kevin'. It will be a lovely book about happy families, happy children and easy childbirths. I will write it for people like myself who need an antidote after ingesting the vitriol that is this book. (For the time being I'm making do with Pratchett but in retrospect should have chosen something with fewer crossbows) This is not a bad book, by any means, it is simply a nasty, unnecessary book.
But before I get ahead of myself, let's get the objective bit of this review out of the way. As I've said, this is not a bad book. It is an excellently crafted epistolary novel and the format allows Shriver to tell her story through introspection with events accompanied by the analysis of hindsight. Not confined to the horrors of raising children, We Need to Talk About Kevin ponders a variety of issues; America - as an entity and part of the world, being a woman, being an adult, politics, the school system - the list goes for awhile. The digressions are eloquent and for the most part spookily in keeping with my own (most cynical) thoughts. If I was to nitpick I'd Say Shriver is a bit over fond of her £10 words, but I suppose you could always blame it on Eva. She's the one writing, after all, and she seems like the type.
The plot, simply put (and in no way a spoiler) is about a kid who grows up and kills a bunch of his classmates. Prior to reading, I thought this set up sounded promising. Not enjoyable, per se, but certainly interesting. I am fascinated by 'true crime' stories, psychopaths and the like. Not to the romantic correspondence extreme or anything, but I certainly find the human mind enthralling - especially when it malfunctions. The concept of seeing this through the eyes of a mother certainly had a chill factor and overall I thought 'We Need to Talk About Kevin' promising.
I certainly read it quickly. A co-worker proclaimed she had trouble getting into it but I couldn't put it down. I found it horrifying. Kevin hadn't even been born yet and I was already despising my gender, appalled at my procreative function, suspicious of my fiancée, scared rigid by by concept of birth and utterly depressed. Kevin's birth was a relief because finally there was form to the diabolical being that had been haunting the story so far. The blanket of horror condensed into a child and I was able to calm down a bit and ascertain exactly what I thought of this book.
It was mean. We Need to Talk About Kevin is a mean, mean book. All the characters are horrible; Eva certainly, but Franklin's inexcusable idiocy was chilling in it's own unique way. Every character, no matter how subsidiary, was combination unpleasant, damaged, ridiculous; the lawyer, the doctor, the PTA mom, the in-laws, the prison guard and on and on and on. I'm not familiar with the opposite of 'rose-coloured' but it is the colour of the lenses this book straps across your face. We Need to Talk About Kevin is horrible even without Kevin. Take away his gym stunt and the characters are still living in the same bleak bizarro world where a description of a disappointing new-build suburban house is enough to crush my will to live.
This is just unnecessary; gratuitous. And in an insidious way as well. We Need to Talk About Kevin bills itself as a naturalistic novel, featuring people like you or me, living in the world we live in (a point hammered home with frequent references to the infamous 'hanging chad' election), acting in a presumably comparable way to you or me in terms of basic humanity. It pretends to reflect life but it's actually a funhouse mirror. In one of those creepy funhouses with evil clowns. I find this disingenuous; bothering me more than the dark subject matter of the story.
Prior to reading We Need To Talk About Kevin, I read The Wasp Factory; which, as it is also high on gore, fratricide and terrifying children, inevitably invited comparison. While I can't say I particularly enjoyed either (sensitive soul, remember?) I much prefer The Wasp Factory. It didn't pretend to be a slice of life, it was unabashedly literary; gothic. These were weird people in a weird place with weird secrets. It delves into the dark corners of human soul and psyche, but circumstance makes it somehow more relatable. Exceptional actions follow exceptional circumstances and you find a common truth and discomfort asking 'What would I do?' and 'How would I have turned out' given the same set up.
We Need to Talk About Kevin, like Lord of the Flies, just wallows in devoluted view that humans are inherently evil monkeys. I don't question myself, I yell at the characters. 'Why would you do that?', 'Have you ever had a single pleasant thought about another human being?', 'Why is he a moron and why don't you notice?' These aren't real people, this is humanity designed by Nietzsche. Finally the book (after an increasingly unpleasant chef's selection of revolting scenarios) makes it to the money shot that is THURSDAY then limps off into an awkward attempt at a redemptive ending.
This book bruised my soul. Also, last night it provided the groundwork for a spectacularly horrible nightmare which is why I am finishing this review today, right now and never think about We Need to Talk About Kevin Again. (under the circumstances I ask you to forgive the lack of proof-reading) Big 'ole 1. Mean, yucky book.
One day I will write a book called 'We Don't Need to Talk About Kevin'. It will be a lovely book about happy families, happy children and easy childbirths. I will write it for people like myself who need an antidote after ingesting the vitriol that is this book. (For the time being I'm making do with Pratchett but in retrospect should have chosen something with fewer crossbows) This is not a bad book, by any means, it is simply a nasty, unnecessary book.
But before I get ahead of myself, let's get the objective bit of this review out of the way. As I've said, this is not a bad book. It is an excellently crafted epistolary novel and the format allows Shriver to tell her story through introspection with events accompanied by the analysis of hindsight. Not confined to the horrors of raising children, We Need to Talk About Kevin ponders a variety of issues; America - as an entity and part of the world, being a woman, being an adult, politics, the school system - the list goes for awhile. The digressions are eloquent and for the most part spookily in keeping with my own (most cynical) thoughts. If I was to nitpick I'd Say Shriver is a bit over fond of her £10 words, but I suppose you could always blame it on Eva. She's the one writing, after all, and she seems like the type.
The plot, simply put (and in no way a spoiler) is about a kid who grows up and kills a bunch of his classmates. Prior to reading, I thought this set up sounded promising. Not enjoyable, per se, but certainly interesting. I am fascinated by 'true crime' stories, psychopaths and the like. Not to the romantic correspondence extreme or anything, but I certainly find the human mind enthralling - especially when it malfunctions. The concept of seeing this through the eyes of a mother certainly had a chill factor and overall I thought 'We Need to Talk About Kevin' promising.
I certainly read it quickly. A co-worker proclaimed she had trouble getting into it but I couldn't put it down. I found it horrifying. Kevin hadn't even been born yet and I was already despising my gender, appalled at my procreative function, suspicious of my fiancée, scared rigid by by concept of birth and utterly depressed. Kevin's birth was a relief because finally there was form to the diabolical being that had been haunting the story so far. The blanket of horror condensed into a child and I was able to calm down a bit and ascertain exactly what I thought of this book.
It was mean. We Need to Talk About Kevin is a mean, mean book. All the characters are horrible; Eva certainly, but Franklin's inexcusable idiocy was chilling in it's own unique way. Every character, no matter how subsidiary, was combination unpleasant, damaged, ridiculous; the lawyer, the doctor, the PTA mom, the in-laws, the prison guard and on and on and on. I'm not familiar with the opposite of 'rose-coloured' but it is the colour of the lenses this book straps across your face. We Need to Talk About Kevin is horrible even without Kevin. Take away his gym stunt and the characters are still living in the same bleak bizarro world where a description of a disappointing new-build suburban house is enough to crush my will to live.
This is just unnecessary; gratuitous. And in an insidious way as well. We Need to Talk About Kevin bills itself as a naturalistic novel, featuring people like you or me, living in the world we live in (a point hammered home with frequent references to the infamous 'hanging chad' election), acting in a presumably comparable way to you or me in terms of basic humanity. It pretends to reflect life but it's actually a funhouse mirror. In one of those creepy funhouses with evil clowns. I find this disingenuous; bothering me more than the dark subject matter of the story.
Prior to reading We Need To Talk About Kevin, I read The Wasp Factory; which, as it is also high on gore, fratricide and terrifying children, inevitably invited comparison. While I can't say I particularly enjoyed either (sensitive soul, remember?) I much prefer The Wasp Factory. It didn't pretend to be a slice of life, it was unabashedly literary; gothic. These were weird people in a weird place with weird secrets. It delves into the dark corners of human soul and psyche, but circumstance makes it somehow more relatable. Exceptional actions follow exceptional circumstances and you find a common truth and discomfort asking 'What would I do?' and 'How would I have turned out' given the same set up.
We Need to Talk About Kevin, like Lord of the Flies, just wallows in devoluted view that humans are inherently evil monkeys. I don't question myself, I yell at the characters. 'Why would you do that?', 'Have you ever had a single pleasant thought about another human being?', 'Why is he a moron and why don't you notice?' These aren't real people, this is humanity designed by Nietzsche. Finally the book (after an increasingly unpleasant chef's selection of revolting scenarios) makes it to the money shot that is THURSDAY then limps off into an awkward attempt at a redemptive ending.
This book bruised my soul. Also, last night it provided the groundwork for a spectacularly horrible nightmare which is why I am finishing this review today, right now and never think about We Need to Talk About Kevin Again. (under the circumstances I ask you to forgive the lack of proof-reading) Big 'ole 1. Mean, yucky book.