The Heart Goes Last. God, but you have
no idea how much I wanted to love this book; how excited I was when I first
heard about it; how I actually danced around my living room when I finally got
my hands on it back in the summer. You cannot beat a good bit of living room
dancing. Or kitchen dancing: last night I danced around my kitchen to Kylie
whilst cooking my tea (and then I had regrets because my back is the hurtiest
this week omg) but I digress: my dancing skills or lack thereof are not what I
am here for.
The point is, I love Margaret Atwood. I have such an
author!crush you don’t even know. I adore the woman. Actual feelings of
adoration. I was so ready for this book to be all kinds of glorious because it
sounds like everything I love about Margaret Atwood and everything that she
does best.
A sinister, wickedly funny novel about a near-future in which the lawful are locked up and the lawless roam free
That’s what
it’s being sold as and yep, sign me the hell up because you can’t beat a good
dystopia and nobody does it like Atwood. This was going to be glorious:
terrifying and shrewd and darkly funny and I could not
wait. I was totally ready to read it and be all ‘but Margaret, how
do you words.’
& you
know what, it was all of those things. It really
was, it’s just that…oh, I don’t even know. I have this woman on an honest to
God pedestal and I had all of these (probably stupidly high) expectations and I
was left feeling sort of deflated. I think I wanted it to be a little bit more The Handmaid’s Tale but it’s nowhere near that good, not
even close. & that makes me the saddest.
It’s a bit like when I read The Year of the Flood and really loved it but didn’t love it
as much as Oryx and Crake. I was sad about that
too. I really loved Year of the Flood
but still, I didn’t love it as much as Oryx and I had
all the feelings about that. That said, somehow The Heart
Goes Last did feel a little bit like The Blind
Assassin does dystopia and everyone knows how much I love The Blind Assassin (AKA my fave Atwood EVER) so swings and roundabouts I guess, swings and roundabouts.
The story centres around a young
married couple, Stan and Charmaine, living in their car and living off stale
food, the key always in the ignition in case they need to make a quick getaway
and all to eager to sign up for the Positron Project that promises them a
brighter tomorrow, despite Stan’s brother’s promise that if they do they’ll
only leave in a box (FORESHADWING ALERT). The whole premise is nuts, again:
obviously. Who else could write this shit and make it believable, really?
There’s a woman sexually attracted to a teddy bear (thanks to this procedure
that programs people to fall in love with the first person they see when they
wake up) and these sex-cyborg dolls (better than real)
and a boat load of Elvis and Marylin Monroe impersonators, and there’s this
city where people live a month in jail and a month ‘free,’ living the dream.
Whilst they’re in prison another person, their ‘alternate’ takes their place,
and vice versa and so much stuff goes on that it kind of makes your brain hurt
:blink:
It’s fucking nuts.
It’s Margaret Atwood.
It’s like a really mental version of
Pleasantville.
It’s weird, and when somehow – quite
without the other realising – Stan and Charmaine find themselves embroiled in a
plot to bring Positron down from the inside it gets crazier still and I love that. I love the premise, I love the story, I love
the characters - the characterisation is excellent, obviously (and probably
that’s where my whole The Blind Assassin comparison
comes from because that book is such a character study and I love it so hard)
but of course it is: this is Atwood, this is
what she does - and I love the potential that I could see in the whole thing.
I’m just really sad that it didn’t quite reach it you know? I think a major point is, is that there’s so
much dystopia around these days – all dystopia all the time - and there’s a risk
of it becoming a little samey you know? With The Heart
Goes Last Margaret Atwood had the chance to show she was still at
the top of her game, to be the one to take that next step, to give us something
utterly original and whilst she did, she also didn’t.
What you may or may not know about
The Heart Goes Last is that it’s edited
into a novel from a serial that was originally published a few years ago and
you can totally tell – the editing shows I think, it’s kind of badly sewn
together in places. I mean don’t get me wrong here, it has the social commentary you come to expect from Atwood’s work, it’s
as satirical as her stuff usually is and yep, it makes you think, but whereas I
believed utterly in Handmaid’s and MaddAddam, I believed in this a little less and that
surprised me. Atwood’s ‘speculative fiction’ is usually so freaking excellent
because you can totally imagine it happening, can see it being just a short
step away from wherever we are now; it has that ‘holy fuck
what are we doing to the world if we don’t stop everything will go to shit and
we’ll all be eating chickienobs’ quality to it. I didn’t get that
feeling here, not in the same way. Not enough is explained, not enough is
shown, the editing is sort of shoddy and whereas Atwood is usually so good at
the tiny details that grab you and hold you and awaken your imagination, here,
a lot of that is missing. It feels, and I can’t believe I am saying this,
rushed. Also Margaret, where is my strong female protagonist please? This book
was crying out for a woman that did not make me want to shake her.
I can’t believe I’m even saying all
this. I feel like a house elf right now, like I have to go and smack myself in
the face.
All of the above said, Margaret
Atwood is incredibly good at what she does,
she’s so very very socially aware, she’s observant, and she’s a really freaking good
writer. I guess when it comes down to it, the truth of the matter is that I
felt a bit let down. Le sigh.
I mean, you should read it, you
should because it’s not bad (it’s good) and it’s not boring and some parts made me laugh out loud, but it’s nowhere near her
best, and if you’ve not read any Atwood before then holy smokes but don’t let
this be the place you start.
(Start with The Handmaid’s Tale because Margaret, how do you words.)
