It took me quite a while to get into this book. It's a slow burn, and at first I wasn't sure about the pacing... but once it got its teeth into me, I couldn't put it down. I had somehow gotten it into my head that it would be in the same genre as the Hunger Games or Matched. On the surface, some of the setup seems to indicate this: groups of children living in a dystopian future (which the inhabitants are told to think of as a utopia) are isolated and tested for the aptitude.
But The Meadows is another sort of story altogether, one that's much quieter, much more realistic, and way creepier. It might be more aptly compared to The Handmaid's Tale or 1984, but even those aren't quite right, because Eleanor's story is one about figuring out how to make your way in a world where difference is persecuted, where unity is achieved through conformity, and where the speculative science fiction elements are uncomfortably close to present-day technology. It manages to turn bleakness into hope. The closest thing I've encountered is Catherynne Valente's short story Fade to White, and even that story takes a grim view of the long haul. Eleanor's story does not.
In The Meadows, Oakes slowly unpacks the surreal experience of being queer in a country that claims to be a melting pot, so long as nobody is 'too different.' A world in which the people who are meant to protect us are, in reality, doing their best to dismantle us from the inside out. I wouldn't call this book a horror novel, but the way Eleanor's world words is truly horrifying, and it's not as far removed from our own as I would like.
For its genre, The Meadows is fairly long, and early on I wondered if I would come away from this story feeling like I could have done without a subplot or two. Definitely not... Oakes earned every page. This book defied my expectations and didn't shy away from difficult topics. More importantly, I hope it will serve as a reminder for queer readers that they aren't alone, and that changing the world isn't something that happens one time overnight. It's a process that develops based on relationships and personal growth and persistence. It happens for the many nuanced, complex characters of The Meadows. It can happen for us, too.
But The Meadows is another sort of story altogether, one that's much quieter, much more realistic, and way creepier. It might be more aptly compared to The Handmaid's Tale or 1984, but even those aren't quite right, because Eleanor's story is one about figuring out how to make your way in a world where difference is persecuted, where unity is achieved through conformity, and where the speculative science fiction elements are uncomfortably close to present-day technology. It manages to turn bleakness into hope. The closest thing I've encountered is Catherynne Valente's short story Fade to White, and even that story takes a grim view of the long haul. Eleanor's story does not.
In The Meadows, Oakes slowly unpacks the surreal experience of being queer in a country that claims to be a melting pot, so long as nobody is 'too different.' A world in which the people who are meant to protect us are, in reality, doing their best to dismantle us from the inside out. I wouldn't call this book a horror novel, but the way Eleanor's world words is truly horrifying, and it's not as far removed from our own as I would like.
For its genre, The Meadows is fairly long, and early on I wondered if I would come away from this story feeling like I could have done without a subplot or two. Definitely not... Oakes earned every page. This book defied my expectations and didn't shy away from difficult topics. More importantly, I hope it will serve as a reminder for queer readers that they aren't alone, and that changing the world isn't something that happens one time overnight. It's a process that develops based on relationships and personal growth and persistence. It happens for the many nuanced, complex characters of The Meadows. It can happen for us, too.