Jane
Written on Nov 16, 2017
There are two major things I take issue with. The writing itself is minor to the book overall, but in the event anyone's a picky reader when it comes to the writing, I'll note my issues: It feels segmented; almost every other paragraph is Janette/Serena, in that there is little non-dialogue or every-other-one. It feels a bit like jumping, or one of those TV shows that jumps to the other person every single interaction, to see how they'll reply -- worse than a reality show.
1. At 52 percent, it turns ableist to the max -- like, it's bad-bad. I'm used to ableism and can usually ignore it, because it's mentioned casually and not repeated again and again, but this was to the point of offensive, canunot levels. 'Tis implied, through third person narrative no less, that people who do not go to protests -- regardless of their personal reasons -- are on the opposing side(s) and do not care about women's rights. This is not the message to be sending! Disabled people already feel excluded from able-bodied peoples -- those of us identifying as women don't need to be excluded from women's rights inclusion by women, too. That's not equality, but just another way to create a checklist you expect people to meet and ignore/dismiss/disqualify those who do not perfectly align with the stupid checklist of what a woman is, of what a woman who cares about other women is, etc.
Stories like these are harmful to communities -- and ableism remains a key theme throughout the rest of the novel, especially because...
2. Could proselytizing be any more alive in a book?! I've never seen it so bad -- not even in Christian fiction, and that's saying something! If I wanted a lecture -- to be told what I need to do, regardless of my limitations -- I'd read a freaking nonfiction novel. I'm not reading fiction because I want to be directly lectured through characters on what the hell I am supposed to do just because I'm a woman. There were numerous incidences that completely ignored the limitations and abilities others have simply in favor of being, again, that "expected" woman who stands up for herself:
- Main character (MC) Janette could not understand why anyone could just give up instead of continuing to fight: I feel like this is something too easy to say -- and being in third person POV, it felt more as though the author herself was coming into the novel here, as if it's how she feels personally, and it made me feel like, "Woah -- wow! This is a person writing about a marginalized (or whatever) group, but excluding a more marginalized group in the process...what kind of messed up sorcery is this?!" It hurts, because it's a harmful message to send out. It must be some privilege to have the ability -- the capacity, the energy, the everything -- to continue fighting and never have a moment wherein you feel like, "What the hell is the point?" As an autistic adult who was abused and neglected as a child, who grew up to have mental health complications and difficulties, who suffers from chronic pain -- I'm not asking to be represented in something directly, because I understand the difficulty of that, but the least able-bodied people can do is acknowledge their damn privilege instead of throwing it in my face as if to say, "I'm sorry you feel beat down and broken, but you need to stand up and go to the protests if you care."
- Speaking of GOING to protests: There are many OTHER ways to protest. We have the internet, for crying out loud! Aside from being disabled, how about phobias?! I purposely go out of my way to 1) avoid crowds and crowded spaces because I've claustrophobia, and 2) avoid any sort of law enforcement personnel because I have policophobia to the point that I will start shaking from the anxiety, hyperventilate, cry, stutter, barf and, in extreme circumstances, pass out in my own vomit -- and that shit is NOT FUN to wake up in. What is this messed up BS of "you have to get out of the house and put yourself in uncomfortable situations, even though they may cause more harm than good, to prove that you care about women and the future and making this country a safe place, etc."?!
I can't even.
And if THAT'S not enough, there is CALLING SENATORS. OH MY GOSH. Drinking game alert: Drink every time "calling senators" is referred to/mentioned/etc., because gfsjkjgkfdjkghjldfs. I'll break this into two parts:
-- Democrats vs. republicans: Not every republican is bad, just as not every democrat is good. How about we stop pointing fingers and continuing to promote crap that furthers the divide and instead work to bridge it -- to glue it, to connect it, to something that does not PIT US AGAINST EACH OTHER.
-- NOT. EVERYONE. CAN. CALL. SENATORS. Regardless of the bloody party said senator is, people who are Deaf/deaf, hard-of-hearing, etc. hearing differences AND people who find phone calls difficult for WHATEVER reason may not be able to call their senators. The reason(s) don't matter! I don't care about the reasons!
3. A ~minor~ issue, compared to the two points detailed above, is that after Janette met Serena, all she's thought about is her. I understand the story legit spans over a day, but regardless of anyone's sexuality, I feel characters should still. pass. the Bechdel test. Just because it was made as a "joke" for female characters discussing men, it can be applied to non-hetero stories as well, in that characters should not exist for the sole purpose of being a romantic partner to someone else.
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I gave "She Marched" 2/5 stars, because it had potential to be something great and meaningful, but fell short and lost three stars. I strongly feel as though the Morland should have instead written a nonfiction essay if she felt the need to say things about the Women's March -- not write a fiction novel unsuspecting disabled people may read.
It's unlikely I'll be reading from this author again, and I don't recommend this book because of it.