My Rating: 4.5 stars
Six women from different walks of life. A series of murders, fifteen years apart. One particularly destitute area of South Los Angeles where chaos and violence run rampant. A society that collectively ignores the pleas of those women who are deemed to be of dubious moral character, based solely on preconceived notions, imagined or otherwise. A place where prejudice goes beyond merely the color of one’s skin, extending also to one’s occupation, the way one speaks, and overall way one lives their life. This is the world where author Ivy Pochoda sets her heartbreaking yet masterfully told story, and in so doing, gives voice to women who are often forsaken, their thoughts and feelings usually dismissed, their words rarely ever believed.
Six women from different walks of life. A series of murders, fifteen years apart. One particularly destitute area of South Los Angeles where chaos and violence run rampant. A society that collectively ignores the pleas of those women who are deemed to be of dubious moral character, based solely on preconceived notions, imagined or otherwise. A place where prejudice goes beyond merely the color of one’s skin, extending also to one’s occupation, the way one speaks, and overall way one lives their life. This is the world where author Ivy Pochoda sets her heartbreaking yet masterfully told story, and in so doing, gives voice to women who are often forsaken, their thoughts and feelings usually dismissed, their words rarely ever believed.
Though this is billed as a mystery / thriller, it is
apparent very early on in the book that “solving the mystery” of the murders,
while necessary, is not as important as letting the stories of these women be
told, allowing their voices to be heard. As is expected, of course the
perpetrator of the crimes is identified in the end — it was an easy guess, one
already figured out a few chapters in, before the first narrative segment was even
over. The way he is found out though is anticlimactic, downplayed, sparse
on details — we don’t know too much about him, his background, why he became
the way he was, even the details of how he committed his crimes are not
entirely clear. But that is the beauty of how Pochoda structured the
narrative — there’s no need to dwell too much on the killer because in the end,
who he is doesn’t really matter. What matters are the women — the victims
of his crimes and the family members who get left behind to deal with the
aftermath. Especially poignant are the segments about the mothers —
Dorian, Mrs. Holloway, etc. — whose only way to grieve is to make sure their
children’s deaths are not ignored and brushed aside as though their existence
never mattered in the first place; their
mission then, becomes making sure what was done is never forgotten.
For me, despite having already figured out the “mystery”
way early on, I kept turning the pages because I wanted to know whether justice
would prevail in the end, and whether these women, ignored for so long, would
finally be heard. Reading this book made
me reflect on a lot of things. It made me think about family, society,
the impact of individual actions and behavior, etc. — most importantly, it
served as a reminder of the differences in each of our circumstances and the
dangers of passing judgment, especially in those situations where there the
understanding of those circumstances is lacking.
These Women is a powerful story, one
that absolutely deserves to be read. With that said though, this is not
an easy read by any means — many of the scenes are dark, gritty, gruesome,
violent, and there is profanity galore. It can also be a frustrating
read, at times even painful, especially in light of the blatant injustices that
take place time and time again throughout the story. But
yet, there is also grace, hope, resilience, and most significantly, the
steadfast courage of these women who, despite being constantly ignored, still
refuse to be silenced. A difficult read,
but definitely a worthy one!
Received ARC from Ecco (HarperCollins) via NetGalley.
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