"Megan Giddings’ prose is brimming with wonder. The Women Could Fly is a candid appraisal of grief, inheritance, and the merits of unruliness." — Raven Leilani, author of Luster
"An interesting and often thought-provoking novel that looks at a world that enforces heteronormativity in a very limited fashion, and considers how it suffocates women’s autonomy and ability to truly live in their world." — Booklist
"It can be tempting to read 'The Women Could Fly,' which comes in the shadow of the recent Supreme Court decision overturning Roe v. Wade, and call the book timely. But the relationship at the heart of this novel — between Jo and her mercurial mother — is much closer to timeless." — New York Times
"The Women Could Fly is an absolute triumph....Giddings conjures up a world that feels familiar, despite the increasingly creepy hints of dystopia. And along the way, she shows what the anti-witch crusaders really fear most: our ability to create a better world if we work together." — Charlie Jane Anders, Washington Post
"... but here I’d like to tell readers that this novel is about witches and it’s incredibly entertaining. If only we could all be witches." — Washington Post
"We could all use a little magic right now.... [Giddings's] language and world-building are beautifully executed, rewriting our assumptions of witchcraft." — Boston Globe
"Giddings pulls off a dynamite story of a Black woman’s resistance in an oppressive dystopia. Giddings ingeniously blends her harrowing parable of an all-powerful patriarchy with insights into racial imbalances. ...This is brilliant." — Publishers Weekly (starred review)
"Born of a radical imagination and executed with piercing elegance and skill, The Women Could Fly recalls legendary works of dystopian fiction but casts a spell all its own. Giddings is a rare and utterly original voice bridging the speculative and the all-too-real." — Alexandra Kleeman, author of Something New Under the Sun
“Profound, daring, wondrous, and utterly original. A feminist dystopian epic about a world where women’s life choices are policed and female power and autonomy are the most dangerous forces of all, Megan Giddings’ The Women Could Fly offers a hypnotic blend of enchantment and outrage. I could not love this novel more.” — Jessamine Chan, author of The School for Good Mothers
“The Women Could Fly lifts the veil of this world to show, amid the old grief and injustice, a glimmer of necessary magic. This is a gem of a book about womanhood, lineage, and defiance.” — C Pam Zhang, author of How Much of These Hills Is Gold
"Though The Women Could Fly pushes into unexpected territory, there are many elements that will feel uncomfortably familiar: protests against the continued infringement of the rights of women, people of color and the LGBTQ+ community; the rise of a vocal conservative minority; and, of course, widespread condemnation of witchcraft. But it also champions the power of community, inviting readers to view this society through a lens of hope rather than despair. ... The Women Could Fly, full of imaginative turns, is a timely look at gender roles and societal expectation." — Sara Beth West, Shelf Awareness (starred review)
"Magnetic ... Hempel’s writing is evocative and approachable. ... A stunning memoir and contemporary exploration of the diversity of family dynamics and coming-out narratives." — Library Journal (starred review)
"Combining the misogynist oppression of The Handmaid’s Tale with the sharp insight and science fictional tone of Octavia Butler, Giddings’s latest is a chilling but all too plausible tale." — Library Journal
“The Women Could Fly is one of the most exhilarating and fulfilling books I’ve read in years. It’s wildly imaginative, funny, deep, radical, and full of suspense—I read it in one giant gulp of pleasure. Megan Giddings is truly a remarkable writer.” — Jami Attenberg, author of I Came All This Way to Meet You
“The Women Could Fly drew me in immediately with its balance of humor and pain, magic and familiarity, and the unforgettable characters who are the novel’s beating heart. Reading this book is like putting on an old winter coat and discovering a magical talisman in the pocket: it’s full of warmth, comfort, and a whole new world of possibility. Megan Giddings is an exquisite novelist, and a writer to watch.” — Adrienne Celt, author of End of the World House
"Giddings has an incredible handle on the American family, on religious nationalism and how it impacts everyone. She writes with wisdom, grace and a skilled hand; her work is seamless on the page, especially on matters involving identity and all manners of diversity, which in lesser hands could feel didactic." — Los Angeles Times
"For a book about witches, The Women Could Fly feels pretty gritty and grounded, and has plenty to say about the regular old dystopia we’re stuck in." — Philadelphia Inquirer
"But beneath its surface, 'The Women Could Fly' boils as hot as a witch's cauldron." — Minneapolis Star Tribune
"Certain authors seem to have a crystal ball that helps them see into the future, and Megan Giddings displays those visions in The Women Could Fly....The thoughtful writing and masterful portraits of flawed people and their struggle for survival in a dystopian world is elegant and rewarding." — New York Journal of Books
"Remarkable … It’s a harrowing and beautiful book, and Giddings never lets the immediacy of her subject matter overbalance her graceful storytelling and the deep humanity of her character." — Emily Hughes, Vulture, "The Best Fantasy Novels of 2022"
2022-06-08
An imaginative, lyrical, and—unfortunately—timely parable about structural injustice from the author of Lakewood (2020).
Josephine Thomas is single, but she regularly hooks up with a man named Preston. She and her best friend, Angie, write comedy together, but Jo’s day job is at the Museum of Cursed Art. She’s about to turn 28, which means that—unless she marries soon—she’ll have to start reporting to the Bureau of Witchcraft for quarterly testing. The world Jo lives in looks very much like our own, right down to the fact that women who choose to have neither husbands nor children are suspect. The difference is that, in this alternate reality, the law assumes that such women are malevolent sorceresses in league with the devil. Jo’s mother taught her both that she was descended from a witch who was burned and that witchcraft isn’t real—that it’s just an excuse to persecute troublesome women. But her mother’s unbelief is not enough to protect Jo—then 14—from accusations of being a witch herself when her mother disappears. And the discovery, years later, that Jo can only claim her inheritance if she collects magical apples from a mysterious island forces her to reexamine everything she thinks she knows about herself. In her first novel, Giddings used tropes from horror and science fiction to explore race and class and generational trauma. Here, she uses fantasy in a similar fashion. And, again, she is particularly interested in what free will means in systems designed to constrain choice. Magic makes women vulnerable. It also empowers them with radical autonomy, and Giddings’ descriptions of magic at work are wonderfully evocative. But the pacing, structure, and worldbuilding leave a lot to be desired. The first half of the narrative moves very slowly, and readers who are here for enchantment are likely to be disappointed. The second half, on the other hand, flies by, leaving many nagging questions unanswered. Also, these two halves seem to take place in different universes. At the start of the story, Jo works, enjoys casual sex, goes out for drinks with friends, gets high, and generally lives a life that will be recognizable to many contemporary women. But the Bureau of Witchcraft as it emerges toward the end only makes sense as part of a government and society defined by fundamentalist Christian views that would make such license impossible, and Giddings does nothing to resolve this conflict.
Commendably ambitious but only partially successful.
