Motherhood

A wonderful reflection on motherhood, the pressures women face to become one, and how to reconcile society's expectations with our desire not to participate in motherhood.

I especially loved the concept of a woman's existence as an end in itself, instead of a vessel through which other lives come through. A woman existing has intrinsic value, motherhood is just a choice that can be made by those who desire it.

The strength of this book is the sum of brave moments where the author/narrator spits out her honest feelings and opinions on (not) having children. Its principal weakness is its overindulgence (both in quality and quantity of writing) in overthinking spirals and meandering thoughts that follow the same pattern, express the same ideas, and reach the same conclusions, yet repeatedly come up throughout the book.

This is why the book drags and feels bloated. The bluntness on motherhood becomes the side story to this main structure (that itself has no structure) and together they do not form a whole that could be described as a novel, even a loose/stream-of-consciousness one, thought it seems to have been the aim.

Other notes:

• It's classified as a novel. It reads/feels like a memoir.

• You know the author has run out of ideas when they resort to *repeatedly* recounting their dreams. This happens too often in this book. I found myself saying out loud, PLEASE STOP I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR DREAMS THAT MUCH I AM NOT YOUR PSYCHOANALYST

• The HYSTERICAL moment at the end of the book when the author/narrator suddenly ends her overthinking spirals that have plagued most of the book, literally ceases to be tormented by the topic of motherhood, because she started anxiety/depression medication. She then concludes that the medication has solved all her problems, answered her questions, and made life markedly better. Though I applaud her for taking care of her mental health and feeling better as a result, it's HILARIOUS because it renders most of the writing in the preceding 230 pages pointless. In this vain the book's central question should have been antidepressants, their reported efficacy, and what it's like taking or not taking them.

Over several years, guided by coin flips, anxieties, family history and mood swings, the author grapples with her biological clocks whether to have children or not. Stream of consciousness, part diary, Heti examines the question through the lenses of cultural conventions, feminism, relationship, fulfilment. It gets very personal, as we dive into her relationship. It gets a bit too lofty, when we spend too much time inside her dreams. Yet I liked a lot of what she had to say. Especially about women in the creative field. Women who create. And of being ends in them selves, and not just passage-ways.