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libbymon's review against another edition
challenging
dark
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
hjdong's review against another edition
3.0
I had a hard time deciding how to rate this book. It is technically a brilliant book and at times, I really enjoyed it, but other times, it was disturbing, and others, a slog.
dragonsandfoxes's review against another edition
4.0
Mo Yan beni asla hayal kırıklığına uğratmıyor. Yaşam ve Ölüm Yorgunu kadar olmasa da bu kitaba bayıldım! Ele alınan konular ağır ve yorucu olsa bile olay örgüsü o kadar akıcıydı ki elimden bırakamadan okudum. Sayfaların fazlalığından endişelenmeye hiç gerek yok. Hem Çin'in geçmişi hakkında bilgi sahibi olmak hem de nefis bir kurgu okumak istiyorsanız İri Memeler ve Geniş Kalçalar kesinlikle doğru tercihlerden biri.
elenajohansen's review against another edition
1.0
I didn’t hate the writing style, or the characters. I didn’t hate the premise. So why did I DNF this just past 150 pages?
Because I literally cannot count the number of times a single female character (Shangguan Lu, or “Mother”) was raped in those 150 pages. Incidents occurred on three separate occasions, the first by a lone man (who fathered one of her many children on her), but the later two were both gang rapes, one by four men and the other by…who knows? It’s not said.
The blurb led me to believe this was era-spanning Chinese historical fiction centered on “strong female characters” despite it being narrated by Mother’s last child and only son. (Which is weirdness I’ll get to in a minute.)
But this is a textbook case of “strong” equaling “suffers constantly and horrifically.”
Why is a woman’s strength measured by how much pain she can endure? Where’s the literary fiction built upon a male character being raped countless times?
So that’s enough to make me stop, because despite some aspects of the work being genuinely engaging, I’m done with narratives glorifying women for their stoic, unflinching acceptance of shit men shovel onto them.
Now, about the weirdness. The narrator, Jintong, is a baby. He’s fixated on Mother’s breasts (which the blurb says are symbols, that the female body is a symbol of strength) and sure, okay, they feed him, so I get that, even if reading about it constantly is vaguely uncomfortable because of the hyperbolic language and metaphors he uses for da boobs.
But this baby narrator thinks and “speaks” like an adult, because who would want to read 400-some pages of baby babble? So it’s already a flawed conceit. And then I noticed that Jintong also narrates scenes he’s not physically present for. I’d be fine with an omniscient non-character narrator, but….Jintong’s an actual baby? Is he supposed to be a psychic baby? Clairvoyant? If you’re going to have a gimmick, at least commit to it–if you pick a baby for a narrator, then the story should only be what he’s around for.
Because I literally cannot count the number of times a single female character (Shangguan Lu, or “Mother”) was raped in those 150 pages. Incidents occurred on three separate occasions, the first by a lone man (who fathered one of her many children on her), but the later two were both gang rapes, one by four men and the other by…who knows? It’s not said.
The blurb led me to believe this was era-spanning Chinese historical fiction centered on “strong female characters” despite it being narrated by Mother’s last child and only son. (Which is weirdness I’ll get to in a minute.)
But this is a textbook case of “strong” equaling “suffers constantly and horrifically.”
Why is a woman’s strength measured by how much pain she can endure? Where’s the literary fiction built upon a male character being raped countless times?
So that’s enough to make me stop, because despite some aspects of the work being genuinely engaging, I’m done with narratives glorifying women for their stoic, unflinching acceptance of shit men shovel onto them.
Now, about the weirdness. The narrator, Jintong, is a baby. He’s fixated on Mother’s breasts (which the blurb says are symbols, that the female body is a symbol of strength) and sure, okay, they feed him, so I get that, even if reading about it constantly is vaguely uncomfortable because of the hyperbolic language and metaphors he uses for da boobs.
But this baby narrator thinks and “speaks” like an adult, because who would want to read 400-some pages of baby babble? So it’s already a flawed conceit. And then I noticed that Jintong also narrates scenes he’s not physically present for. I’d be fine with an omniscient non-character narrator, but….Jintong’s an actual baby? Is he supposed to be a psychic baby? Clairvoyant? If you’re going to have a gimmick, at least commit to it–if you pick a baby for a narrator, then the story should only be what he’s around for.
kq5's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
bibliobethreads's review against another edition
3.0
This book can be described as a quick history of China’s more violent and turbulent years during one generation which is seen through the eyes of one boy, brought up as the only male amongst eight sisters, and he is completely obsessed with breasts. But not in the usual manner – he constantly craves his mothers milk after attempts to wean him off fails dismally. And there are a lot of breast references, almost every page has something about them or the nipple area in general! This induced much sighing and eye-rolling from me, I’m afraid – it just got a bit boring, and yet should have been empowering. Importantly, I do think it’s also a feminist novel, due to the strength portrayed by the women in the story, namely Mother and the eight sisters as the entire family suffers through deaths, tortures, beatings and betrayals. There are some pretty powerful scenes here, the imagery of which will be fixed in my imagination for a while, I think. It is interesting to note that although this book won a very prestigious prize, it failed on the “morality” stakes and was banned in China.
I’ve got to admit, I found this book a bit of a roller-coaster ride. It started off quite slow but I started to get into it after about 100 pages, then it tailed off again, then picked up, then tailed off yet again. I have never been swayed in my opinion so much before this novel, and it is probably testament to the brilliance of the writing that I stuck with it until the end. The characters themselves are not really drawn with much depth although they have the potential to be incredibly interesting (I’m thinking of the “kick-ass” mother here). Jintong, our narrator and male child, comes across as spoilt, weak, and incredibly disturbed, however there seems to be a bit of a theme of madness in the story, perhaps our author is suggesting too many hardships does send people over the edge? The spiritual elements of the story, including the “Bird Fairy” and the “Fox Fairy” left me a bit puzzled also, as I didn’t see a real need for them and did not feel they enhanced the narrative in any way.
Best bits? The writing, most definitely. I cannot deny that it was beautifully written, and there always seemed to be “something happening,” so the pacing was perfect. In this way, I can kind of see why the author won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2012 and I don’t regret having read it.
Please see my full review at http://www.bibliobeth.wordpress.com
I’ve got to admit, I found this book a bit of a roller-coaster ride. It started off quite slow but I started to get into it after about 100 pages, then it tailed off again, then picked up, then tailed off yet again. I have never been swayed in my opinion so much before this novel, and it is probably testament to the brilliance of the writing that I stuck with it until the end. The characters themselves are not really drawn with much depth although they have the potential to be incredibly interesting (I’m thinking of the “kick-ass” mother here). Jintong, our narrator and male child, comes across as spoilt, weak, and incredibly disturbed, however there seems to be a bit of a theme of madness in the story, perhaps our author is suggesting too many hardships does send people over the edge? The spiritual elements of the story, including the “Bird Fairy” and the “Fox Fairy” left me a bit puzzled also, as I didn’t see a real need for them and did not feel they enhanced the narrative in any way.
Best bits? The writing, most definitely. I cannot deny that it was beautifully written, and there always seemed to be “something happening,” so the pacing was perfect. In this way, I can kind of see why the author won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2012 and I don’t regret having read it.
Please see my full review at http://www.bibliobeth.wordpress.com