I don't know how to describe a book that is both open and symbolic. I think that's the power of the dystopian genre: being able to live without telling.
The story that is being created on the grounds of depopulation is based on the use of women as tools, just like a commodity, for the purpose of increasing the population. The fiction is extraordinary, terrifying and detailed. That was the first thing that accelerated my reading and connected me to the book. But that's not what I found most impressive. What caught my attention, he insisted, were the stages of transition. It can never be easy to put a society into a different configuration, a different order at once. This is like Ember, for it is, something that happens over time. I think those words sum up enough..
"Nothing changes at once: you'll be scalded to death in a hot tub before you know it. There were stories in the newspapers, of course, bodies found in ditches or in forests, beaten to death or mutilated, attacked as they used to say; but these were about other women, and the men who did them were other men. None of them were men we knew. Newspaper stories were like dreams for us, bad dreams for others.
We used to say, ' how terrible they were, but they were terrible, beyond belief.' They were overly melodramatic, they had a dimension that didn't belong in our lives."
In this "wonderful" life, where everything is gradually manipulated, free and free, we are most often in a time and order that allows one to live their own self-dystopian lives with tyrannical, unwelcome responsibilities. The book I read