Several friends recommended this book to me several years ago, and perhaps it took me this long because I am not generally fascinated by the fantasy genre. Yet few can call The Power a work of genre fiction. Or perhaps it is genre fiction and it is simply a stand-out novel that went mainstream. But it was written with support from the Protege Arts Initiative and Margaret Atwood, so it has a certain pedigree. Perhaps Alderman is comparable to Kurt Vonnegut, except more of a realist and less of a humorist or philosopher (though anthropology plays an important role in this novel as well).
By most measures, The Power is a very fine book with minor flaws and is absolutely worth reading. Others might find it threatening and shrill. And I think that is what separates it from genre fiction-- though we could label it "feminist fantasy." Which also sort of summarizes the book in a crass way, for in this fantasy, women are equipped with the power to fire lightning from their hands.
While "genre fiction" may not deal in such high-minded themes as "literary fiction," it has experienced something of a renaissance in recent years due to writers that have pushed it beyond the realm of the dime store. Often we hear about Octavia Butler and Ursula Le Guin. I haven't been able to read either yet, but prior to her death in 2018, Le Guin did contribute to The Power in a mentorship capacity. Others clearly shined a light for Alderman's path forward. And so perhaps The Power too, builds on myths and transfigures them onto the modern world, tying up ambition and morality with a feminist bent.
The novel is firmly-planted, for the most part, in the present-day and the science behind it is as absurd as it is plausible. That is, each woman has a skein. I had to look up the definition of a skein, which is generally, yarn, or a tool for knitting. There is also a female Marvel Comics superhero named Skein who is a member of the Thunderbolts (Hawkeye's Team). Alderman acknowledges Peter Watts for his knowledge of marine biology and the electric eel, for helping her figure out where to place an electro-plaque in the human body. Later, secondary sources indicate that that a cure for nerve gas in the wake of World War II was developed, "Guardian Angel," and it was laced in drinking water across the world, and that the Power has emerged from that mutation in the generations since. Or it is simply an evolutionary adaptation:
"An Israeli anthropologist suggests that the development of this organ in humans is proof positive of the aquatic-ape hypothesis; that we are naked of hair because we came from the oceans, not the jungle, where once we terrified the deeps like the electric eel, the electric ray. Preachers and evangelists grab the news and squeeze it, finding in the sticky entrails the unmistakable signs of the impending end of days. A fistfight breaks out on a popular news discussion program between a scientist who demands that the Electric Girls be investigated surgically and a man of God who believes they are a harbinger of the apocalypse and must not be touched by human hand. There is an argument already about whether this thing was always latent in the human genome and has been reawoken or whether it is a mutation, a terrible deformity." (22)
It takes place around the world in vague locales, apart from Lagos and Moldova. It proceeds as a series of vignettes featuring each character (oh and technically this book is a historical novel by Neil Adam Armon): Roxy, Margot, Allie (Mother Eve) and Tunde. The novel takes place over a 10-year span, from the first discovery of the Power to the Cataclysm (I will avoid spoilers in this review).
Tunde is the male protagonist, and is the aforementioned Lagos native. Basically, he becomes the chief documentarian of the movement, via YouTube.
Roxy is from England and comes from a crime family. She is very powerful and her mother is murdered in the opening scene.
Allie is an orphan or foster-child that is placed with an abusive family and begins hearing a voice in her head that establishes her as Mother Eve, and she has healing powers.
Margot is the mayor of a city (somewhere in New England, we hear at one point) and is ambitious and has two daughters, one of whom is arguably also a main character (Jocelyn).
It is hard for me to remember some of the early action in this novel (there is Roxy's discovery of her power, hers and Allie's murdering of evil men, the general climate of these unnatural events), but the turning point clearly takes place around page 100, when Moldova first appears as a setting. Before that, Roxy and Allie meet in a convent that Allie has repurposed into a training academy for other girls and they establish themselves as de facto leaders. At one point, one of them learns to start using water as a conduit for the electricity, making them even deadlier.
In Moldova, Tatiana Moskalev enters the narrative and becomes another major character. The wife of the President, who then dies of a heart attack in his sleep, she is appointed as his replacement. Then Moldova becomes a de facto nation-state of women, changes its name to Bessapara, and declares war against the rest of the world, and nearly all women become cruel and murderous.
And ultimately two of the main characters end up as an item, and there is some experimental surgery with a skein transplant, and Things Have Gone Too Far. And then there is the twist of the ending, which is cute.
Along the way, there are many pleasures to be found, and for me, the entire book is an allegory on Misogyny. Yes, The Faerie Queene was very hard for me, but I respected the allegorical foundation to it. And yet drawing any serious metaphors or allegory from this narrative would seem to induce mockery: what does the skein represent? why do girls come into their power in teenhood? what about the boys that also have skeins? is it all just a big metaphor for sexual assault, etc.? were society created by women, would it be better than one by men?
Few lessons can be taken out of this work, but I like to think of it as an inquiry into radical feminism. This is informed by my status as a weak male. Thesis: women that hate all men indiscriminately and have no use for them but slavery are unlikely to create a more just and verdant society. Of course, there is the growing certainty that men have subjugated women forever, truly, and still do (even as we pay lip service to their myriad achievements down through history, dedicate a month to them, and an international day, nominate more of them for directing Oscars, apply special status to businesses and organizations led or run by them...), so what if women simply behaved the way men always have? That is one way to look at the novel. And it is just those sorts of "misandrists," that cannot find a single redeemable quality in the human male, that are just as monstrous as the misogynists (or racists, or eugenicists, etc.) responsible for subjugating them in the first place. Of course this is not a popular opinion to convey so I must desist. I believe in passionate protest so I am not going to be contradictory. Of course I also don't like being branded as a monster by dint of gender. It is not that extreme, it is not so bad, it is just the sexual proclivities of men that are monstrous, yes, and the way they only give opportunities to other men like them. Still, saying "reactionary feminism is bad," as a lesson, is sort of meaningless. And really who am I to say this is a lesson of the book?
Most of these characters are bad. Only two of them are actually, unironically, good-intentioned. But even that is hard to say. I haven't even mentioned the drugs.
At a certain point maybe halfway through the novel, a kind of glitter (actually called Glitter) that the women snort like cocaine, enters the narrative as a commodity and as a weapon. In short, taking Glitter greatly enhances powers, depending on quantity consumed. This does not become the downfall of Bessapara but perhaps of Roxy, whose family seizes on the opportunity to mass produce it and control the supply.
There are metaphors here that I cannot identify with any kind of certainty. If it's hard for me to select excerpts, its because this is a very active novel, and tends to remain ensconced in its fictional space. If there is anything jarring about the book, it is the cavalier way the news segments are presented, or references to the primary news program:
"You can't be serious, Kristen, is that really what they're saying? I'm afraid it is, Matt. [That maybe one in 10 men will be considered useful.] She puts a gentle hand on his knee. And of course they're not talking about great guys like you, but that is the message of some extremist websites. That's why the NorthStar girls [privately-run military corporation for which Margot sits on the Board] need more authority; we've got to protect ourselves against these people. Matt nods, his face somber. I blame those men's rights people; they're so extreme, they've provoked this kind of response. But now we have to protect ourselves. He breaks into a smile. And after the break, I'll be learning some fun self-defense moves you can practice at home. But first, the weather on the ones." (313)
This news program pops up on one working black-and-white TV in a hospital tent in Bessapara. It seems to be filmed in Margot's hometown, when it appears earlier in the novel. It is not anachronistic necessarily - perhaps it is like the BBC and global - but it is an outwardly satirical element, a "tell" of sorts. And yes, this excerpt does clearly reference contemporary extremists, but more as a winking aside.
If the purpose of literature is to educate and entertain, The Power is a success. If literature is meant to be useful, however, this is where I tend to flounder with fantasy. Make no mistake: The Power will be showered with accolades when it is made into a limited series by Hulu (after The Handmaid's Tale has run its course). 20 years ago, it could have been made into a summer blockbuster (query whether Hollywood would embrace a female-dominated end-of-the-world epic in the early-00s). Certainly, there is more that is useful in The Power than the Day After Tomorrow, even as the latter is informed by science. The lesson is to fear women, and that for every abuse we inflict upon them as men, we will feel their retribution tenfold, when it comes. Of course that is too much. Maybe the lesson is that all forms of radicalized oppression are absurd, even as they still persist in various governments, cultures, and attitudes. The response to that oppression is something to fear, as righteousness will give way to further oppression. Yet dismantling that oppression is a delicate task, and radical reconstruction is dangerous. I don't think that is the message of the novel, but I am reasonably sure that many believe the better path forward, is slow, incremental progress. Then again I don't think Alderman meant to write a morality tale; rather, an inventive and creative novel that is bemused by real-world misogyny, which offers a scenario where it might make sense, where women constituted an actual threat. The fear that giving more opportunities to women will lead to the downfall of society is completely insane. Unless, they have in their possession, a certain weapon.
Grade: B+
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