We Need to Talk About Kevin was one of the best books I've ever read. Simple as that.
GENERAL COMMENTS:
To preface: I did not like Eva. I did not like Kevin. I sure as hell did not like Franklin. And I usually need to like at least one character in order to be drawn into a book.
The prose of this book is beautiful. I have over 20 bookmarks, highlighting some of the most beautiful and mind altering passages. The letter format (which skips between the past and the present) worked very well for me, keeping me in suspense and giving the novel a nice flow.
The story itself is unique and thought provoking. The concept of whether someone who is considered evil can be born that way or made that way (the old story of nature vs nurture) is fascinating. Additionally, Lionel Shriver was able to narrate the story of difficult motherhood as well as difficult childhood so eloquently and in such a complex manner, I struggle to verbalise what a massive impact it left on me.
The characters are all flawed and, to an extent, annoying. Eva is self-absorbed individual prone to see theatrics and seeing herself better than everyone. Franklin is so painfully dull and macho. Kevin is angsty and frankly infuriating. But they all form a rich and absorbing picture of this beautiful read.
MY PERSONAL TAKE:
At one point of the book, I almost let my personal feelings and experiences got hold of me. I cannot have children of my own and neither I want to. As such, Eva's desperation to keep her husband through having a child which effectively destroyed her career and her mental health and said child's difficult personality, seemed infuriatingly unfair to me. Why did Eva have to give up everything for this bratty kid? Why did Franklin never support her? Why did no one provided her with a proper treatment for her obvious and dangerous post natal depression? Why was Kevin being so bloody difficult despite his mother sacrificing her fulfilling work and her body and mind for him?
But then the chapter where Kevin was ill came and I suddenly felt that it was me who was being unfair. Kevin was just a child. His mother's clear disdain over his existence and her apparent mistake in choosing to have a child clearly affected him very badly. When we learned that it was not in fact Kevin's idea to throw the rocks at the cars (despite Eva being 100% certain that it indeed was), I also realised that Eva is an unreliable and overly biased narrator and that many of her assertions about Kevin were likely wrong.
Then came Thursday. The calculated and sterile way in which it was carried out almost convinced me that Kevin was in fact a rotten little prick form birth as Eva suspected. And then I read the last chapter which made me realised that perhaps not. The book got me again.
CONCLUSION:
This was an excellent novel. As much relatable as infuriating. Nuanced. Tragic. Beautiful.
All these words to simply say – thank you Lionel Shriver for this georgeous and enriching read.
I will end on a quote: "This is all I know. That on the 11th of April, 1983, unto me a son was born and I felt nothing".
by rinakun