In The Power the world is a recognisable place: there’s a rich Nigerian kid who larks around the family pool; a foster girl whose religious parents hide their true nature; a local American politician; a tough London girl from a tricky family. But something vital has changed, causing their lives to converge with devastating effect. Teenage girls now have immense physical power – they can cause agonising pain and even death. And, with this small twist of nature, the world changes utterly.
Goodreads book synopsis calls Naomi Alderman’s Power extraordinary, and yet, I cannot bring myself to call the novel something other than average. Or maybe a bit more than average.
Naomi Alderman does deliver an intriguing concept. At a certain point in time women become powerful – all of a sudden, the bodies of young girls all around the world can produce electricity. All the babies are born with it. The older women get the power from younger ones… The world is turned upside down, all the concepts of male-dominated societies go crashing down as women get the chance to fight back against opression.
The book follows a set of characters. Allie’s power comes through as her foster father is raping her. She kills the man and runs off, ending up in a covent and all of a sudden becoming a prophet of a female God. Btw, Allie hears a voice in her head that keeps driving her actions. Roxy is an illegitimate child of a British mob boss, her power comes through the moment enemies of her father come to kill her mother. Margot is an American politician, who receives the power from her teenage daughter Jos. Tunde is a Nigerian kid who becomes a journalist and a keen observer of the events that changed the world.
At some points towards the end of the novel I found myself skipping pages as the storylines got me questioning more and more how did Power get a 4* average on Goodreads. It’s hard not to question how so many readers got this book so wrong. Don’t get me wrong, Naomi Alderman’s writing IS good, but is not exceptional. At least not just yet. She depicts violence against women, she depicts violence committed against men, she writes about rape and abuse, about drugs, about power and the ways it corrupts people. Some part of the storylines reminded me of bad fanfiction. Power is ok, but it definitely isn’t a book that deserves another read.
Overall grade: 3*
My, I do feel so old when I think it has been 20 years since I first laid my hands on Harry Potter and the Philospher’s Stone. The first book, one that I borrowed from a childhood friend has changed the way I see the world, but that’s what J.K.Rowling’s books did for most of the readers.
Those days weren’t the brightest ones I could look back on. Book one was borrowed, books two and three were brought by my parents, who went to Moscow to earn some money. When the Goblet of Fire came out, I had to sell my copies of the Chamber of Secrets and the Prizoner of Azkaban in order to be able to afford to buy the latest installment. A penpal sent me her copy of the Order of the Phoenix. Another friend from England sent me the Half-Blood Prince. The last chapter, the Deathly Hallows, became the one – the first book – that I could truly buy on my own…
One of my closest relative blamed all my faults and mistakes on that book series. I forgot something – Harry Potter was to blame, I never did something – it was all about Harry. The smallest of missteps oftentimes resulted in degrading words about the books that – I’m not afraid to say it – kept me sane and, however irrational it may have seemed at these points, they kept me hopeful. These books have also made me loyal to the ones I have let into my life till the last.
I speak/know/understand 7 languages. Going on 8 right now… When people hear this, they are almost always perplexed. How can this be possible? For those that do not know, I am from Moldova – a country which is not only bilingual, but is a country which brings together languages of two different groups. So, since childhood I have gradually gained understanding of languages of both Slavic and Latin origins. Russian and Romanian were the beginning. Harry Potter and J.K.Rowling taught me English. I have re-read the series in every language that followed. French, Spanish, Czech… Every line, every word in a language that I did not yet quite grasp was familiar and every time, I felt like I was reading the series for the first time. Just a little bit like that.
J.K.Rowling created a home for me, she created my friends, my escape and my consolation, her words stopped me from falling to pieces many, many times, she made me fall in love with English and helped me discover other languages. That is what she did for me and for that, I will be forever grateful.