#all rights reserved
Vox
by Christina Dalcher
Vox made me angry. I tore through it in 48 hours and felt my rage rise by the page. But oh, the satisfaction in reading a book so infuriating. It stoked all of my justified feminist rage.
Imagine a world like ours where puritanical values prevail, - wait, a little too close to home for your taste? Well, in this world, females are relegated to a word count of 100 or less a day. The words are tallied by a nifty and strategically marketable (Look, Mom, it comes in purple!) wristband which electrically zaps the woman at increasing volts with each additional infraction. And it starts in childhood, so little girls no longer learn to read and write. Naturally, work outside the home is impossible, as is any reading, writing, access to language and computers, and well, you’d be astounded by just how much of our lives incorporates words. It’s a little Handmaid’s TalemeetsAll Rights Reserved.
Our protagonist, Jean, is not only a mother of boys and a girl, but a highly-regarded doctor and expert in aphasia. Restless and stuck at home, when an aphasia-related tragedy rattles the government, who but our doctor can save the day? Add in a forbidden romance, and really, Vox is a veritable politically-charged speculative page-turner.
My one complaint: The book ended too soon; I could have read another 100 pages - or I could, at least, until the government fits me with a wristband.
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