Name: Nik ✨'s review of The Women Could Fly by Megan Giddings
Item: The Women Could Fly
Rating: 4
Author: Nik ✨

Megan Giddings

Reminiscent of the works of Margaret Atwood, Shirley Jackson, and Octavia Butler, a biting social commentary from the acclaimed author of Lakewood that speaks to our times—a piercing dystopian novel about the unbreakable bond between a young woman and her mysterious mother, set in a world in which witches are real and single women are closely monitored.

Josephine Thomas has heard every conceivable theory about her mother's disappearance. That she was kidnapped. Murdered. That she took on a new identity to start a new family. That she was a witch. This is the most worrying charge because in a world where witches are real, peculiar behavior raises suspicions and a woman—especially a Black woman—can find herself on trial for witchcraft.  

But fourteen years have passed since her mother’s disappearance, and now Jo is finally ready to let go of the past. Yet her future is in doubt. The State mandates that all women marry by the age of 30—or enroll in a registry that allows them to be monitored, effectively forfeiting their autonomy. At 28, Jo is ambivalent about marriage. With her ability to control her life on the line, she feels as if she has her never understood her mother more. When she’s offered the opportunity to honor one last request from her mother's will, Jo leaves her regular life to feel connected to her one last time.

In this powerful and timely novel, Megan Giddings explores the limits women face—and the powers they have to transgress and transcend them. 

The Women Could Fly

Bethany Jenkins

A small cluster of women dressed all in black and wearing big glasses were talking about Mississippi, where a woman was scheduled to be burned for witchcraft. “The laws are so lax there,” one said. “Not just there, this country,” another woman earnestly said. “I cry sometimes thinking about how we’re the only developed country to let this still happen.” I blinked and took a step away from them. They talked about how exhausting everything was, how unsafe they felt, while most of them wore large engagement rings. Statistics spilled out of their mouths about where it was only a misdemeanor if a man killed a woman who he thought had ensorcelled him. The law making its way through the Florida legislature that encouraged the state to give out gift cards to people who reported potential witches in their midst. “But we’re safe here,” one woman kept saying. I drank a large gulp of wine and understood I had made a huge mistake coming to this party.

Lindsay

The witch said even though her mind wanted to sleep, her body was alive with the desire to live, and that manifested as magic.

Once, there were men who loved to see punishment. They were elected officials, businessmen, community pillars, and every kind of man in between. They loved anything that would balkanize everyone they considered beneath them. If everyone was busy fighting for their rights, fighting each other, and the men stayed together, they would always get to be in charge of everything. 

When I say men, this isn’t to say there weren’t women like that, too. Gender expression has never guaranteed solidarity, especially among people who are trying to survive.

when you grow up somewhere and spend your entire life worrying that one day someone will say that you’re a witch, that you’ll die in poverty or your life will be harder because no man will marry you, or because it feels like every day someone with power is doing something to take things from you for no good reason really except for them keeping their power, it’s hard to build a community. You can’t even think about changing anything because by the time you’re a woman in your twenties, unless you’re very lucky, you most likely are only thinking about how to survive.”

In every room of that house, I told myself, If you keep acting normal, you can have a life. 

In every room I told myself I had so many things other people were desperate for, so shut up and lean in to being happy. 

In every room I wished my parents would tell me how to be the kind of person they could love, that they could like, that they could always be there for, because I was so tired of feeling not good enough.

I kept trying to figure my way into a joke. What is the difference between having a husband and clinical depression? Both want you to give up your friends, lie in bed, and don’t let you eat enough. The punch line of having a penis felt too obvious, but I wondered if I said it the right way, found the right framing, could it work? Or was the joke too dark?

The thought sloshed around inside me whenever I made something normal and ordinary like breakfast: Is it possible for him to love me if he doesn’t know the truth about me?

They confirmed what I knew but needed affirmed again: anything can make sense to a person as long as it helps them feel powerful.

Everything was meant to reinforce having a typically cis female body was a mortification that must be endured until you were old enough that your body was an aged mush helped into baths and rolled over in beds. And then it was only about the embarrassment of being alive. None of those magazines pointed toward what I knew of mortification: my brain and how ugly it was, how it was linked directly to my mouth that let ugly stuff slip from it, and how those ugly things were then permanently in my brain for me to consider whenever I was restless at 2: 30 a.m.

The witch was fascinated by the value of love. How it could take an object from being worth something clear and easy to parse and make it invaluable. It didn’t matter if something were one of a kind; it mattered more if someone important had loved it. She liked to talk about how people could add value to things, but that on average, things couldn’t add value to people. And people could maybe add value to people, but most weren’t interested in doing that.

I wanted to say something earnest about missing her, in some way that wouldn’t make her slink away from me, that this was what I had hoped life would be like with her. But we were laughing and I was scared to be the reason why the fun ended.

“Isn’t love a permanent curiosity for the other person? You’ve kept them in your life because you want their point of view, you want to fucking laugh and cry and argue with them.” 

“Isn’t that friendship?” I asked. “Aren’t you just proving my point?” 

“I mean, yes, but, they’re not distinct entities for some people.”

“The only safe place for a woman is 100 percent alone.”

I alternated between feeling like a terrible person and daughter for holding these grudges and thinking, No, I deserve to be angry about these things. There is nothing wrong with knowing you’ve been treated poorly for no good reason and wanting to be treated better.

Now, it was hard to tell because adult unhappiness is so much more compact, so much deeper than child unhappiness. There have been times when I’ve been laughing, my head bent over a martini, my favorite song playing in the bar, people dancing and flirting around me, and a small voice inside of me would whisper, “I would like to bite into this glass, chew myself dead.”

Becky A

I feel like this book will be hit or miss for most people. I went into it expecting more to happen, but it’s was more of an introspective experience than a plot driven one. The writing style was very reflective and enjoyable the entire time through. I could feel the emotion of the main character and really emphasized with her and what she was dealing with. I did find myself waiting for something “big” to happen, but that’s because I went into it misunderstanding the type of story this was. This more aligns with social commentary and the dangers of society as opposed to a fantasy novel. Overall, I very much enjoyed this and the insight it provided.

Nik ✨

This book reminded me a lot of When Women Were Dragons. I loved the concept. There are a lot of great things about the book, but I wish it had given a bit more. The ending felt a bit rushed and there were themes and plot lines that could have been expanded on.

I liked this book considerably more than her first book, Lakewood. it’s so nice to see an author come into her own. 

I also loved her take on what it would be like if witches were real and lived in the world today. It’s not what you think. 

Jayme Bosio

I liked this book considerably more than her first book, Lakewood. it’s so nice to see an author come into her own. 

I also loved her take on what it would be like if witches were real and lived in the world today. It’s not what you think. 

It took me so long to listen to this book. I think I would have given it 4 maybe even 4.5 if I would have read it because the language and words written down (from quotes I've seen) are beautiful! The prose-y language didn't translate that well into an audiobook, even though the narrator was fantastic. 

The pacing of the book was off too. I kept getting confused with past and present events. 

I think I might try to read this instead of listen to it at some point, but for now it was okay. 

Gisela Ayala 

It took me so long to listen to this book. I think I would have given it 4 maybe even 4.5 if I would have read it because the language and words written down (from quotes I've seen) are beautiful! The prose-y language didn't translate that well into an audiobook, even though the narrator was fantastic. 

The pacing of the book was off too. I kept getting confused with past and present events. 

I think I might try to read this instead of listen to it at some point, but for now it was okay. 



Becky A &
The Women Could Fly by Megan Giddings

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Becky A &The Women Could Fly by Megan Giddings

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Becky A &
The Women Could Fly by Megan Giddings