i don’t know how to explain this book, i don’t even know how to process anything i just read. i’m devestated. i’m hopeful. i’ve the sneaking suspicion that a lot of it went clear over my head and i won’t fully appreciate everything Le Guin tried to say with tLHoD until i’ve read it for a second time.
and i probably, definitely shouldn’t have picked this as my first Le Guin because it was a true exercise in “trust the process,” or, in this case, trust the storyteller.
man, i’m having a hard time digesting this one. a sobering look at the pain and self-hatred queer people lived with and internalized, even in places like mid-1950s France where homosexuality was no longer criminalized but still came with massive social stigma.
David was hardly a likeable protagonist, and yet part of me still felt such compassion for him even as i watched his self-loathing destroy, not only himself, but everyone around him. a complex, tragic story of a man unable to accept himself, or the love he desires. Baldwin is a masterful writer; looking forward to reading more of his works.
the Metamorphosis is a story of alienation and dehumanization told in three parts. and as i read, my heart slowly broke for Gregor, our anti-hero; used, reviled, neglected, abandoned… he deserved so much more than his fate.
“But the raw, sheer edge of her misery was blunted; she had learnt to cope, even to survive, by deviousness, by reading, and, as always, by day-dreaming.”
if sixteen-year-old me had been able to read this book, i would’ve made it my whole personality.
i don’t think there’s a single more important book to read in 2025. if you read any banned book this year, please— make it this one. this book is so raw, brutal in its honesty and hope for humankind. people….. people are not good to each other. but in the end, it’ll be the few good people left that will inherit this earth. if this book leaves you with anything, it is that.
there are a slew of content warnings for this book, definitely go in prepared. the first half is….. harrowing. one of my favorite aspects of the horror genre is how it allows you to engage safely with fear, all the stuff that can be too hard to face without the safety of ink and paper between you and it. parable of the sower isn’t horror, but much like the genre, it allows you to safely face the realities about our world’s near future that are often too hard to look at directly in real life. but it doesn’t leave you there, reflecting on and lost in all that inescapable ugliness mankind made for itself. there’s hope, too. because where there are people, there is always hope.
alright, i finished it. five stars. this is another one that i’d categorize as “not for everyone but, damn, it was for me.” the Bog-Wife is a character study in generational trauma as experienced by five siblings who bury their abusive father only to watch the rhythm of their isolated lives collapse around them. not everyone will find Eda, Charlie, Wenna, Percy, and Nora lovable but i did— lovable, and painfully familiar.
technically this is classed as horror but i’d recommend it to anyone who’s interested in testing the waters in the shallow end of horror, or more specifically: folk horror.