Scan barcode
A review by millennial_dandy
The Women Could Fly by Megan Giddings
dark
mysterious
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.25
'The Women Could Fly' is a great example of how important it is for an author to trust their readers. What could have been an excellent novel was hampered by too much exposition, and left me wondering who Megan Giddings wrote it for.
This is an author who is clearly very interested in looking at the intersections of gender and race and class, at the absurdities and contradictions within the subjugation of minority groups. So, for a novel so short, it was vast in scope. However, there was enough meat on the bones of the plot that it could have held itself up with fewer diatribes and more story.
Now listen, I'm a card-carrying 'woke' leftist, so my annoyance with Giddings's 'tell > show' approach had nothing to do with what she was saying and everything to do with the fact that as someone who already agreed with her and is familiar with things like intersectionality, with racialized womanhood, with the oppression of women under patriarchy I didn't need a 101 lesson in a fantasy novel, especially when it felt so redundant since the plot was already presenting these arguments for her.
In fact, the best parts were the plot threads that she allowed to exist without exposition. Our protagonist, Jo, being a bisexual woman in a world where unmarried women have to register with the state and who face potential charges of witchcraft was really interesting. It created such compelling tension when the person she fell in love with was a man. Her inner turmoil over whether or not she loved him because of who he was or because being with him made her life easier was incredibly gripping, and I genuinely wanted to know how that was going to be resolved. Especially when her love interest proves himself to be a perfectly likable person who was earnestly invested in her and in their relationship. Yet still, it was understandable why Jo felt weird about it. About the fact that within a straight relationship in this world he would always have power over her, even if he never used it.
The actual institution of witchcraft accusation and prosecution felt grounded and pretty well thought out, and I think the disconnect she depicted between 'witch hunts' and the reality of the witches being hunted made for a successful allegory for the persecution in the real world of other marginalized groups (the villainization and persecution of trans people certainly comes to mind...).
I thought it was a funny touch to include the irony and hypocrisy of the popularity of witchy aesthetics and witchy art in an anti-witch society. Very: we like the parts of you that can be capitalized off of, but not you as real people (very reminiscent of the commodification of Black art, especially music and street style).
Great stuff.
The magic was really interesting too. Again, because Giddings didn't spend so much time trying to explain the magic system and how it worked, it was something we simply got to experience through Jo's eyes, and that allowed it to feel a lot more whimsical and, well, magical. I liked that the spells were community-based, and that it was most dangerous to a wielder if someone tried to step out on their own. I thought it was neat that the witches themselves didn't completely understand how it worked or where it came from and were figuring it out as they went along. The idea that spell-casting involved a lot of scientific method style trial and error grounded it well without ever making it lose its wild essence.
Overall, there was nothing wrong with the plot, and I actually found the plot itself a lot more interesting even than what the blurb described, but it was everything else around it that dragged the reading experience down for me. The pacing was super off, especially towards the end, and it kind of felt like Giddings herself lost steam and suddenly just tacked 'the end' onto a rushed climax.
I really wish an editor or beta reader somewhere along the line had suggested scaling back significantly on the blunt moments of 'd'ya get it? You get it, right? Let me spell it out in case you didn't get it' because 'The Women Could Fly' really didn't need it, and it felt oddly amateurish for someone with a few novels under their belt already.
This is an author who is clearly very interested in looking at the intersections of gender and race and class, at the absurdities and contradictions within the subjugation of minority groups. So, for a novel so short, it was vast in scope. However, there was enough meat on the bones of the plot that it could have held itself up with fewer diatribes and more story.
Now listen, I'm a card-carrying 'woke' leftist, so my annoyance with Giddings's 'tell > show' approach had nothing to do with what she was saying and everything to do with the fact that as someone who already agreed with her and is familiar with things like intersectionality, with racialized womanhood, with the oppression of women under patriarchy I didn't need a 101 lesson in a fantasy novel, especially when it felt so redundant since the plot was already presenting these arguments for her.
In fact, the best parts were the plot threads that she allowed to exist without exposition. Our protagonist, Jo, being a bisexual woman in a world where unmarried women have to register with the state and who face potential charges of witchcraft was really interesting. It created such compelling tension when the person she fell in love with was a man. Her inner turmoil over whether or not she loved him because of who he was or because being with him made her life easier was incredibly gripping, and I genuinely wanted to know how that was going to be resolved. Especially when her love interest proves himself to be a perfectly likable person who was earnestly invested in her and in their relationship. Yet still, it was understandable why Jo felt weird about it. About the fact that within a straight relationship in this world he would always have power over her, even if he never used it.
The actual institution of witchcraft accusation and prosecution felt grounded and pretty well thought out, and I think the disconnect she depicted between 'witch hunts' and the reality of the witches being hunted made for a successful allegory for the persecution in the real world of other marginalized groups (the villainization and persecution of trans people certainly comes to mind...).
I thought it was a funny touch to include the irony and hypocrisy of the popularity of witchy aesthetics and witchy art in an anti-witch society. Very: we like the parts of you that can be capitalized off of, but not you as real people (very reminiscent of the commodification of Black art, especially music and street style).
Great stuff.
The magic was really interesting too. Again, because Giddings didn't spend so much time trying to explain the magic system and how it worked, it was something we simply got to experience through Jo's eyes, and that allowed it to feel a lot more whimsical and, well, magical. I liked that the spells were community-based, and that it was most dangerous to a wielder if someone tried to step out on their own. I thought it was neat that the witches themselves didn't completely understand how it worked or where it came from and were figuring it out as they went along. The idea that spell-casting involved a lot of scientific method style trial and error grounded it well without ever making it lose its wild essence.
Overall, there was nothing wrong with the plot, and I actually found the plot itself a lot more interesting even than what the blurb described, but it was everything else around it that dragged the reading experience down for me. The pacing was super off, especially towards the end, and it kind of felt like Giddings herself lost steam and suddenly just tacked 'the end' onto a rushed climax.
I really wish an editor or beta reader somewhere along the line had suggested scaling back significantly on the blunt moments of 'd'ya get it? You get it, right? Let me spell it out in case you didn't get it' because 'The Women Could Fly' really didn't need it, and it felt oddly amateurish for someone with a few novels under their belt already.