A review by beneatthetrees
The Cassandra by Sharma Shields

3.0

The pretty ones, the loud ones, the impossible ones, were prodded and bedded and beaten. Some complained of the rats and of the food, which looked and tasted like vomit. I tried not to frown at these bellyachers or appear too condescending.

What do you expect? This is womanhood, boiled down.

The Cassandra is a bleak read, absolutely. It's angry, it's ugly, and it's gruesome. Sharma Shields created a world to mirror our own-- one without any redemptive qualities. The characters are caricatures of humanity: selfish and cruel. There is no love. There are no friendships built on kindness, there are no familial ties, there are no loving marriages. The future, any future, that contains humanity is doomed to failure.

The Earth, however, is beautiful. I really admired her writing about the landscape. As someone who lives in the Inland Northwest I felt instantly familiar with the magical descriptions of landscape Shields writes. But even those descriptions become twisted. The last page of the novel focuses on Mildred's view of the passing landscape: "suffocating greenery," "spindly waterfalls," "muscled, burnished fists of the canyon," and the "disinterested grey serpent of the Columbia River."

The Cassandra is a powerful read with a Jane Austen level of cultural/feminist scathingness (though with a bleak humor rather than a dry one). But it made me feel similar to when I read The Handmaid's Tale -- like I had pored over a newspaper only featuring the bleak and disgusting. Not like I had gotten a true glimpse of humanity (though I think this was purposeful, the Cassandra figure is, after all, a harbinger of doom). There was no hope or love and it was a draining experience.

I enjoyed it and think it's an important read; however, I only recommend it to those who can handle despair.