She’s torn between wanting to let the bastard suffer and die, or doing everything she can to help her small daughter get her counter off, even for a little while. Then, the president’s brother is struck with aphasia (an accident? a stroke? don’t remember) and the Powers That Be show up at Jean’s door, offering to take her counter off (and her daughter’s) if she’ll help fix him. In schools (where girls learn home ec and boys learn everything else), girl students are awarded prizes for speaking the fewest words a day. Women aren’t allowed their own bank accounts or cell phones. Women who commit adultery go to work camps (the men are fine, obviously). The Pure movement has taken over, and it’s like Mike Pence and Fred Phelps got together and filled out a wish list. This counts for teeny babies, the president’s wife, everybody. If they speak more than 100 words a day, they get shocked. Now, women are forced to wear counters on their wrists. Jean was some kind of neuro-linguistic scientist at the top of her field when the world suddenly took a huge step backwards. And I definitely got that, but it came with an unexpected heaping helping of guilt! When a family friend (backed up by my mother, who had also read it) passed this book on with an evilly gleeful “you’re going to hate this, but it will make a fun review!”, I knew I was in for some misogynistic nonsense. But right now, with so many dumpster fires working together to start a worldwide conflagration, it was especially maddening. To be clear, I can’t think of any time I would have enjoyed reading this book.
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