Megan GiddingsCritiques

This book was horrific, but it also felt empty and soulless. Lena barely had any emotions and she lacked agency. Maybe that was the point? I don't think it's a bad book, just not for me. The writing gradually becomes a stream of consciousness fever dream and I just don't enjoy that type of prose.

I really wanted to love it for many reasons, but did not. Just a "meh" to me. So much potential, a great idea for a story, just unfulfilled.

I don't read a ton of dystopia, and I have avoided the handmaid's tale, so I wasn't sure what to expect. This was a pretty scathing critique of society's biases - how free are we really? And how much are we willing to participate in oppressive systems to keep our own heads? I wish more time had been spent on the island, or exploring magic in general. I also think it's really dumb that they don't have a better test for finding if someone has magic still, seriously, are you lighter than a duck? I know it's demonstrating how idiotic it is to bothering testing/caring/destroying someone's autonomy, but come on, make the idiots a little interesting at least.

Rating this an enthusiastic MEH. Lakewood is the story of Lena, a young Black woman who takes a top secret job as a guinea pig for clinical trials in order to assure her mother's health and medical insurance. But what were these drugs meant to be used for? How dangerous were they? And how far was Lena willing to go?

The plot was interesting enough and it started off intriguingly, even if the prose was a bit listless. I forgave the clunky writing to begin with because I wanted to know more and I was hoping that Lena would blossom into a full fledged character. Sadly neither of those wishes were fulfilled.

Lena and her friends, coworkers, and family were not unlikeable but they were wholly unremarkable. I never felt invested in any of the characters for even a moment. What made this even more difficult was the complete and utter lack of inquisitiveness that they themselves had about the drugs and experiments that they were undergoing. The sheer volume of suspension of disbelief required for this story was almost too much for me to compute.

The story itself went on and on over the same sort of ground without ever shedding new light on the mystery. I felt cheated, to be honest. But none were given. It became repetitive and unfulfilling by halfway through and then stayed solidly there.

The ending was lackluster, to say the least. There was a "twist" which felt forced and after everything was revealed there were still no real answers for what the hell was going on throughout. The ending just sort of came all at once and then plopped down and it was over. Like a terrible one night stand.

More frustrating again is that there is a history of medical experimentation on Black people in the United States. I expected this to be explored but it never really went there. It flirted with it, danced around it, but ultimately left it as a badly missed opportunity.

I feel like I'm ragging heavily on this book and I guess I am. I was rating it a generous three stars when I started writing this review but now I'm at two. It just wasn't very good but I read it quickly if that helps. {{shrug}}

I think of it now as proof people are realizing governments can be absolutely worthless. The only dependable way to survive today is to put your faith in the power of other people wanting to give you money. Online fundraising. Corporations that still pretend to care what consumers think. They want to be able to say, See, look how benevolent we are, think about this instead of how we're polluting the ocean and not paying our workers enough.

Lakewood really defies a description; I'm as unsure how to label the novel as I am unsure how I feel about it. It's horror as much as sci-fi. Partially epistolary, a smattering of family secrets. A melding of racist history and racist present. As much medical thriller as speculative fiction. Ultimately I'm not sure whether I truly enjoyed it but I know it was compelling, pulling me along on the ride, and really, isn't that what we really want from a story?

Lakewood follows Lena Johnson, a young Black university student on the cusp of adulthood pushed headlong into the worst of being an adult. In her desperation to cover the medical debts of her late grandmother's cancer and her mother's mysterious chronic illness, Lena receives a letter promising lots of money for an extended research study. Shit gets weird pretty quick after that, devolving into letters from Lena to her best friend.

I found Lena to be a solid protagonist. She's smart, compassionate, an art history nerd, average in a lot of her desires and aspirations - to be happy, and healthy, and secure. It's not necessary for me to find every protagonist entirely likable or relatable, but it was easy to connect to Lena, to root for her. The further into the research trial into supposed 'memory improvement' the prose starts match Lena's mindset, dreamy, confusing, switching in and out of thoughts and scenes with no warning. The effect is discombobulating, confusing, I went back and read lines or paragraphs again, wondering at meanings, feeling like I was with Lena on the journey. I like when a story can make me work for it, make me want to work for it.

There are a lot of layers in Lakewood and this may well be a novel that delivers more upon re-reads.

This is a qualified pick for me. I like the premise of this novel, but it's not developed enough to provide the impact I think the author is going for. All of the elements are there---our relationship to our parents as we grow up; our desire for love, belonging, and community, and the things we sacrifice for that desire; destructive racism and sexism inherent in systems to keep certain groups in power---they just feel like they're behind glass.

The other thing I just cannot understand is why stay? It doesn't seem like Jo has any particular connection to where she grew up or to her parents or more than one of her friends, and there's no indication that characters in this world can't move to other states or countries, so why not leave? Maybe it's a result of my life moving around every few years that I'm unable to see why people stick around bad places, but I never get it.

2.5 Stars

CW: Yucky bloody medical experiments, racism, hints at sexually motivated attack, unwell parent, grandmother dies of cancer.

I really wanted this to be a deeper exploration of medical experiments conducted on people from lower socio-economic groups, and also on POC. It danced around the edges but never really went far enough to have the shock factor that I had been expecting. The writing is pretty good and there were some super creepy moments dotted in there but mostly it was dull. Just okay for me.

Earnest and chilling, Lakewood is a cautionary and thought-provoking critique on race and class disguised as body horror but succeeds at both.

This sounded so cool and had such an interesting premise but the entire book was just loose ends. There was no real climax, nothing was resolved at all, and everything I kept hoping for throughout the book was left unfulfilled. I'm being vague to avoid spoilers but basically, great potential, disappointing execution. So many plotholes and things that made no sense.

A very thoughtful mix of fabulism, outright fantasy, and dystopian speculative fiction based on an alternate history. Somehow more reality based than reality. Though it had some confusing bits that I felt sort of meandered away from the plot, I loved it. The things it had to say about society and misogyny hurt, but in a really cathartic way.

A dystopian world where magic exists, with a lot of similarities to our own

One of those books that you should understand better but don't. The protagonist is a Black college student who is in a big financial bind and finds rescue by enrolling in a research study with completely disturbing, violent, and abusive components. By joining, Lena gets a large salary and, most importantly, health insurance for herself and for her ailing mother. She stays despite the strange physical and psychological damage, most of which take place in a bland Midwestern town's office park but also, terrifyingly, in an isolated rural cabin. Lena can't tell if the tests and challenges she's undergoing are specifically designed for her as a Black woman, as all Black people suffer under the misbelief that they are able to bear physical pain more readily than other races. The problem is that the reader doesn't know either. There's a bit of a reveal at the end as regards Lena's mother's experiences, and a small public protest against the experimentation, but not many clues beyond that. The novel is a combination of horror story and sociological narrative that left me feeling like I was too dumb to get in on the true story.

"From what she had seen in America, everything was simultaneously right and wrong. Like witches. We still thought of them as something taboo, criminal, bad, but there was a weird space where because of capitalism, they were still everywhere because they made money. It seemed to her that capitalism allowed anything to exist as long as someone could exploit it for money and power. And those things seemed to make room only for loneliness when it came to most people."

I really wanted to love The Women Could Fly by Megan Giddings but it left me feeling underwhelmed. The book had strong writing and the world building in the first half was flawless. The social commentary was thought-provoking but was never explored deeply enough to add layers to the plot. It remained quiet when it should have been louder considering the level of horror being experienced by women and queer people in this dystopian world. The second half of the book felt rushed and almost like it switched genres leaving the climax and ending to feel anti-climactic.

I will say that the themes it touched on are what kept me going: mother-daughter relationships, abandonment, being biracial, intolerance, codified oppression of women and queerness, witchcraft and nature, patriarchy and misogyny, marriage and religion and gendered expectations. I do wish this was a series because this was definitely a good starting point for this world and would leave room for further exploration and character development. The bones of this story was quality and I would definitely read more from this author based on the writing style alone. Giddings did have a lot to say in this one. I do wish this one was longer so it could have packed a bigger punch because it had great potential. I would recommend this one for the gorgeous writing. Thanks to @amistadbooks for the gifted copy.

The Women Could Fly by Megan Giddings is both a great piece of speculative fiction and a wealth of social commentary on our real world.

Strictly as a dystopian work of fiction the style flowed well with transitions back in time usually being handled well. For some of the impact, on both the protagonist and the reader, to be effective some shifts were more subtle but just long enough for the effect to be created. An active engaged reader shouldn't have any trouble with them. I also thought Giddings walked that fine line very well between making the social commentary intrusive or making it too subtle so that it is missed. To the extent that commentary was made it fit into the narrative of the story, knowledge being passed between characters for example, so that the reader doesn't feel like one section moves the story along while another makes some larger point.

So many of today's social problems are addressed here (though admittedly they have been our problems for centuries) and are done so in a way that illustrates the fact that these various systems of oppression are not separate, they are coordinated aspects of the same system, the interlocking (sub)systems of oppression. Because I read to learn and broaden my understanding of my world as well as the fictional world. this next comment is a guess. I think even those who "just want the story" (they probably want athletes to just "shut up and play" but that is a different debate) can enjoy the story without consciously broadening their world view. Not sure why one would want to, but the writing and the story are strong enough to allow it.

Reviewed from a copy made available by the publisher via NetGalley.½

What a great book - highly recommended.
A dystopian world where magic exists, with a lot of similarities to our own. A world with racism, sexism, homophobia, where being a woman, especially non-white or poor, condemned for witchcraft will cost your life. In some other states, being a gay man condemned for witchcraft will as well. A world where women have to marry men to keep some rights and some freedom. Jo, the main character, wonders - can love, can marriage truly exists in such a world where you depend on someone else like this? A husband the government asks to spy on you for signs of witchcraft?
Jo's mother, who didn't believe in magic at all, disappeared 14 years ago. Still processing the difficulties of going through this, among other difficulties from the systemic oppression and her personal circumstances, Jo will go on a journey that reconnects her with her past and her future, with her world and how to interact with it.
This book is deep (and ramble-y in a way I like), not shying from taking a topic and developing it, and making us interrogate it, and so, interrogate our world in turn. Megan Giddings writes wonderfully and some descriptions made a lot of ineffable things feel real. This is an amazing book.

I want to thank NetGalley and Pan Macmillan for providing me with an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.

3.5 stars--I wonder if this would have been 4 if I read it on paper/or screen? The narration is totally fine, it is just that I am not the greatest listener, and the sometimes unreliable narrator had me confused more than once.

This is one of the books I missed last year due to Covid--it was on my radar, but then whe. it came out the libraries were closed, and I kind of forgot about it. It came up on the Reading Engvy podcast right as I needed a new audiobook on hoopla, and it was there. Perfect timing.

This book addresses the US history of running medical experiments on black people, largely without consent (or without informed consent). Many have heard of the Tuskegee studies, but there were others. In this novel, Lena is invited to join a medical study that will pay very, very, very well. She and her mother need the money and insurance, so she drops out of school to go. It is all very hush hush with intense backstories. The pay and insurance is real--the informed consent is not. And to story goes even deeper.

I'm not even sure how to classify this novel. Is it speculative fiction? Dystopian? In the past, similar events have occurred--which makes it seem not so speculative. But still dystopian, I guess.

I heard so many good things about Lakewood, and for a debut book, I believe it is a very well written book.
It is a book about the horrors of medical experimentation on human beings and people of color specifically. It is a thought-provoking story, and you are wondering how far you would go to provide medical, economic, or even psychological help to the most important people in your life?
The author writes about psychological and physical trauma, how she writes about race and class and everything else here: with insight and humanity yet exquisitely expressed. The deep wisdom of her words rocks me.
When people talk about the horror genre, we think of blood, gore, etc. Ye me too. I never thought that horror could have a different meaning, as Megan Giddings is showcasing with her debut novel.
Looking forward to reading her future installments in the literature world.