Women Talking

By Miriam Toews

The basis of the Oscar-winning film from writer/director Sarah Polley, starring Rooney Mara, Claire Foy, Jessie Buckley, with Ben Whishaw and Frances McDormand.

INTERNATIONAL BESTSELLER

“This amazing, sad, shocking, but touching novel, based on a real-life event, could be right out of The Handmaid's Tale.” -Margaret Atwood, on Twitter

"Scorching . . . a wry, freewheeling novel of ideas that touches on the nature of evil, questions of free will, collective responsibility, cultural determinism, and, above all, forgiveness." -New York Times Book Review, Editors' Choice

One evening, eight Mennonite women climb into a hay loft to conduct a secret meeting. For the past two years, each of these women, and more than a hundred other girls in their colony, has been repeatedly violated in the night by demons coming to punish them for their sins. Now that the women have learned they were in fact drugged and attacked by a group of men from their own community, they are determined to protect themselves and their daughters from future harm.

While the men of the colony are off in the city, attempting to raise enough money to bail out the rapists and bring them home, these women-all illiterate, without any knowledge of the world outside their community and unable even to speak the language of the country they live in-have very little time to make a choice: Should they stay in the only world they've ever known or should they dare to escape?

Based on real events and told through the “minutes” of the women's all-female symposium, Toews's masterful novel uses wry, politically engaged humor to relate this tale of women claiming their own power to decide.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
• Release date: Apr 2, 2019
• ISBN: 9781635572599

Miriam Toews

Miriam Toews is the author of the bestselling novels All My Puny Sorrows, Summer of My Amazing Luck, A Boy of Good Breeding, A Complicated Kindness, The Flying Troutmans, Irma Voth, Fight Night, and one work of nonfiction, Swing Low: A Life. She is winner of the Governor General's Award for Fiction, the Libris Award for Fiction Book of the Year, the Rogers Writers' Trust Fiction Prize, and the Writers' Trust Engel/Findley Award. She lives in Toronto.

Book preview

JUNE 6

August Epp, Before the Meeting

My name is August Epp—irrelevant for all purposes, other than that I’ve been appointed the minute-taker for the women’s meetings because the women are illiterate and unable to do it themselves. And as these are the minutes, and I the minute-taker (and as I am a schoolteacher and daily instruct my students to do the same), I feel my name should be included at the top of the page together with the date. Ona Friesen, also of the Molotschna Colony, is the woman who asked me if I’d take the minutes—although she didn’t use the word minutes but rather asked if I would record the meetings and create a document pertaining to them.

We had this conversation last evening, standing on the dirt path between her house and the shed where I’ve been lodged since returning to the colony seven months ago. (A temporary arrangement, according to Peters, the bishop of Molotschna. Temporary could mean any length of time because Peters isn’t committed to a conventional understanding of hours and days. We’re here, or in heaven, for an eternity, and that’s all we need to know. The main houses in the colony are for families, and I’m alone, so it is possible I may always, forever, live in the shed, which doesn’t really bother me. It’s bigger than a jail cell and large enough for me and a horse.)

Ona and I avoided the shadows as we spoke. Once, in mid-sentence, the wind caught her skirt and I felt its hem graze my leg. We side-stepped into the sun, again and then again, as the shadows lengthened, until the sunlight had disappeared and Ona laughed and waved her fist at the setting sun, calling it a traitor, a coward. I grappled with the idea of explaining hemispheres to her, how we are required to share the sun with other parts of the world, that if one were to observe the earth from outer space one could see as many as fifteen sunsets and sunrises in a day—and that perhaps by sharing the sun the world could learn to share everything, learn that everything belonged to everyone! But instead I nodded. Yes, the sun is a coward. Like myself. (I kept silent, too, because it was this tendency of mine to believe, with such exuberance, that we could all share everything that landed me in prison not long ago.) The truth is, I don’t have a catchy method of conversing and yet, unfortunately, suffer on a minute-to-minute basis the agony of the unexpressed thought.

Ona laughed again, and her laughter gave me courage, and I wanted to ask if I was a physical reminder of evil to her, and if that was what the colony considered me to be, evil, not because I had been in prison but because of what had happened long ago, before I became incarcerated. Instead, I simply agreed to take the minutes, of course—I have no choice other than to agree because I would do anything for Ona Friesen.

I asked her why the women wanted a record of their meetings if they wouldn’t be able to read it? Ona, who is afflicted with Narfa, or Nervousness—as am I, my name Epp coming from Aspen, the Trembling Aspen, the tree with leaves that tremble, the tree that is sometimes called Women’s Tongue because its leaves are in constant motion—said this in response.

She had seen two animals earlier, very early in the morning, a squirrel and a rabbit. Ona had watched as the squirrel charged the rabbit, running full tilt. Just as the squirrel was about to make contact with the rabbit, the rabbit leapt straight up into the air, two or three feet. The squirrel, confused, or so Ona thought, then turned around and charged the rabbit from the other direction only to encounter empty space once again as the rabbit, at the very last available second, leapt high into the air, avoiding contact with the squirrel.

I appreciated this story because it was Ona telling it, but I didn’t understand exactly why she was telling it, or what it had to do with the minutes.

They were playing! she told me.

Is that so? I asked her.

Ona explained: Perhaps she wasn’t meant to have seen the squirrel and rabbit playing. It had been very early in the morning, at a time when only Ona was roaming about the colony, her hair too loosely covered, her dress too untidily hemmed, a suspicious figure—the devil’s daughter, as Peters has named her.

But you did see it? I asked her. This secret playing?

Yes, she said, I saw it with my own eyes—which in that moment, in the telling of the story, were shining with excitement.

The meetings have been organized hastily by Agata Friesen and Greta Loewen in response to the strange attacks that have haunted the women of Molotschna for the past several years. Since 2005, nearly every girl and woman has been raped by what many in the colony believed to be ghosts, or Satan, supposedly as punishment for their sins. The attacks occurred at night. As their families slept, the girls and women were made unconscious with a spray of the anesthetic used on our farm animals, made from the belladonna plant. The next morning, they would wake up in pain, groggy and often bleeding, and not understand why. Recently, the eight demons responsible for the attacks turned out to be real men from Molotschna, many of whom are the close relatives—brothers, cousins, uncles, nephews—of the women.

I recognized one of the men, barely. He and I had played together when we were children. He knew the names of all the planets, or he made them up anyway. His nickname for me was Froag, which in our language meant question. I remember that I had wanted to say goodbye to this boy before I left the colony with my parents, but my mother told me that he was having difficulty with his twelve-year-old molars, and had contracted an infection and was confined to his bedroom. I’m not sure, now, if that was true. In any case, neither this boy nor anybody from the colony said goodbye before we left.

The other perpetrators are much younger than me and hadn’t been born, or were babies or toddlers, when I left with my parents, and I have no recollection of them.

Molotschna, like all our colonies, is self-policed. Initially Peters planned to lock the men in a shed (similar to the one I live in) for several decades, but it soon became apparent that the men’s lives were in danger. Ona’s younger sister, Salome, attacked one of the men with a scythe; and another man was hanged by a group of drunk and angry colonists, male relatives of the victims, from a tree branch by his hands. He died there, forgotten apparently, when the drunk and angry men passed out in the sorghum field next to the tree. After this, Peters, together with the elders, decided to call in the police and have the men arrested—for their own safety, presumably—and taken to the city.

The remaining men of the colony (except for the senile or decrepit, and myself, for humiliating reasons) have gone to the city to post bail for the imprisoned attackers in the hope that they will be able to return to Molotschna while they await trial. And when the perpetrators return, the women of Molotschna will be given the opportunity to forgive these men, thus guaranteeing everyone’s place in heaven. If the women don’t forgive the men, says Peters, the women will have to leave the colony for the outside world, of which they know nothing. The women have very little time, only two days, to organize their response.

Yesterday, as I have been told by Ona, the women of Molotschna voted. There were three options on the ballot.

1. Do Nothing.

2. Stay and Fight.

3. Leave.

Each option was accompanied by an illustration of its meaning, because the women do not read. (Note: It’s not my intention to constantly point out that the women do not read—only when it’s necessary to explain certain actions.)

Neitje Friesen, age sixteen, daughter of the late Mina Friesen and now permanent ward of her aunt Salome Friesen (Neitje’s father, Balthasar, was sent by Peters to the remote southwest corner of the country some years ago to purchase twelve yearlings and still has not returned), created the illustrations:

Do Nothing was accompanied by an empty horizon. (Although I think, but did not say, that this could be used to illustrate the option of leaving as well.)

Stay and Fight was accompanied by a drawing of two colony members engaged in a bloody knife duel. (Deemed too violent by the others, but the meaning is clear.)

And the option of Leave was accompanied by a drawing of the rear end of a horse. (Again I thought, but did not say, that this implies the women are watching others leave.)

The vote was a deadlock between numbers two and three, bloody knife duel and back of horse. The Friesen women, predominantly, want to stay and fight. The Loewens prefer to leave, although evidence of shifting convictions exists in both camps.

There are also some women in Molotschna who voted to do nothing, to leave things in the hands of the Lord, but they will not be in attendance today. The most vocal of the Do Nothing women is Scarface Janz, a stalwart member of the colony, the resident bonesetter, and also a woman known for having an excellent eye for measuring distances. She once explained to me that, as a Molotschnan, she had everything she wanted; all she had to do was convince herself that she wanted very little.

Ona has informed me that Salome Friesen, a formidable iconoclast, had indicated in yesterday’s meeting that Do Nothing was in reality not an option, but that allowing women to vote for Do Nothing would at least be empowering. Mejal (meaning girl in Plautdietsch) Loewen, a friendly chain-smoker with two yellow fingertips and what I suspect must be a secret life, had agreed. But, Ona told me, Mejal also pointed out that Salome Friesen had not been anointed as the person who can declare what constitutes reality or what the options are. The other Loewen women had apparently nodded their heads at this while the Friesen women had expressed impatience with quick, dismissive gestures. This type of minor conflict well illustrates the timbre of the debate between the two groups, the Friesens and the Loewens. However, because time is short and the need for a decision urgent, the women of Molotschna have agreed collectively to allow these two families to debate the pros and cons of each option—excluding the Do Nothing option, which most of the women in the colony dismiss as dummheit—and to decide which is suitable, and finally to choose how best to implement that option.

A translation note: The women are speaking in Plautdietsch, or Low German, the only language they know, and the language spoken by all members of the Molotschna Colony—although the boys of Molotschna are now taught rudimentary English in school, and the men also speak some Spanish. Plautdietsch is an unwritten medieval language, moribund, a mishmash of German, Dutch, Pomeranian and Frisian. Very few people in the world speak Plautdietsch, and everyone who does is Mennonite. I mention this to explain that before I can transcribe the minutes of the meetings I must translate (quickly, in my mind) what the women are saying into English, so that it may be written down.

And one more note, again irrelevant to the women’s debate, but necessary to explain in this document why I am able to read, write and understand English: I learned English in England, where my parents went to live after being excommunicated by the bishop of Molotschna at the time, Peters Senior, father of Peters, the current bishop of Molotschna.

While in my fourth year of university there, I suffered a nervous breakdown (Narfa) and became involved in certain political activities for which I was eventually expelled and imprisoned for a period of time. During my imprisonment, my mother died. My father had disappeared years before. I have no siblings because my mother’s uterus was removed following my birth. In short, I had no one and nothing in England, although I had managed, while serving time in prison, to complete my teaching degree through correspondence. In dire straits, homeless and half-mad—or fully mad—I made a decision to commit suicide.

While researching my various options at the public library nearest the park in which I made my home, I fell asleep. I slept for an extraordinarily long time and was eventually gently nudged by the librarian, who told me it was time for me to leave, the library was closing. Then the librarian, an older woman, noticed that I had been crying and that I appeared dishevelled and distraught. She asked me what was wrong. I told her the truth: I didn’t want to live anymore. She offered to buy me supper, and while we were dining at the small restaurant across the street from the library, she asked me where I had come from, what part of the world?

I replied that I came from a part of the world that had been established to be its own world, apart from the world. In a sense, I told her, my people (I remember drawing out the words my people ironically, and then immediately feeling ashamed and silently asking to be forgiven) don’t exist, or at least are supposed to be seen not to.

And perhaps it doesn’t take too long before you believe that you really don’t exist, she said. Or that your actual corporeal existence is a perversity.

I wasn’t sure what she meant and scratched my head furiously, like a dog with ticks.

And after that? she asked.

University, briefly, and then prison, I told her.

Ah, she said, perhaps the two aren’t mutually exclusive.

I smiled stupidly. My foray into the world resulted in my removal from the world, I said.

Almost as though you were brought into existence not to exist, she said, laughing.

Singled out to conform. Yes, I said, trying to laugh with her. Born not to be.

I imagined my squalling infant self being removed from my mother’s womb and then the womb itself hastily yanked away from her and thrown out a window to prevent any other abominations from occurring—this birth, this boy, his nakedness, her shame, his shame, their shame.

I told the librarian that it was difficult to explain where I was from.

I met a traveller from an antique land, said the librarian, apparently quoting a poet she knew and loved.

Again I wasn’t sure what she meant, but I nodded. I explained that I was originally a Mennonite from the Molotschna Colony, and that when I was twelve years old my parents were excommunicated and we moved away, to England. Nobody said goodbye to us, I told the librarian (I live forever with the shame of having said such a piteous thing). For years I believed we were forced to leave Molotschna because I had been caught stealing pears from a farm in the neighbouring colony of Chortiza. In England, where I learned how to read and write, I spelled my name with rocks in a large green field so that God would find me quickly and my punishment would be complete. I also tried to spell the word confession with rocks from our garden fence but my mother, Monica, had noticed that the stone wall between our garden and the neighbours’ was disappearing. One day she followed me to my green field, along the narrow rut that the wheelbarrow had made in the dirt, and caught me in the act of surrendering myself to God, using the stones from the fence to signal my location, with huge letters. She sat me down on the ground and put her arms around me, and said nothing. After a while, she told me that the fence had to be put back. I asked if I could put the stones back after

Reviews for Women Talking

[Mary Bull · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

amazingly deep and real, women working out the politics of their own salvation with all the truthfulness they can manage. really a two hour high stakes conversation... in a way it's Catharine MacKinnon by anarchists, but there's more here about the purpose of human connection and redemption too.

[electrascaife · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Based on actual events in which a group of Mennonite women were repeatedly drugged and raped in the middle of the night then told that they were being visited by demons as some sort of punishment, this story is about a similar group of women after the truth has been revealed as they meet secretly to decide what they should do: leave the colony, stay and do nothing, or stay and fight for themselves.
The novel is 10% plot and 90% Socratic dialogue (sort of. Not really. But sort of.) and I loathe Socratic dialogue. I get what the author is doing here (at least I think I do: shining a light on horrific deeds that tend to go unnoticed, trying to give the women in these situations a voice,…), but I was irritated that the she still filtered those voices through a male protagonist, who’s job in the book is literally to translate the speech of the women into his own words. Maybe that frustration with a male presence that doesn’t seem at all necessary is also part of Toews’ point; if so, brava, because she nailed it. I was super frustrated.

[rickgeissal · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This was my introduction to the author, Miriam Toews, and I am very impressed. The book drew for inspiration from a real & disturbing event just over a decade ago. The style of the story was new to me, and very powerful & beautifully done. This book is a marvel. It is about women responding to a situation in which they had felt powerless. The dialogue of them getting to a point of action is simply amazing.

[tinkerbellkk · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is the terrible story of women in a Mennonite community who are repeatedly raped and violated by the men of their community. It is difficult to read but well-written. And it is shocking to find out that the story was loosely based on a real story. The women were very brave to even consider leaving their environment that had kept them completely sheltered their whole lives and I felt that even though this story is grim, it has alot of hope as well. Also be sure to watch the movie as well. It really brings the characters to life.

[bookworm12_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

A nuanced look at a Mennonite community that is facing an impossible decision. Loosely based on real events, I was moved by the descriptions of the women as the decide their fate. The story is told from the POV of a male school teacher, which gives us the feeling of looking in from the outside. The story feels simple, but the result is a powerful look at the complicated relationships these women have built in their tight-knit group.

[librarycin · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

3.5 stars

In the mid-2000s, in a remote Mennonite village in Bolivia, several of the women (and some children) were waking up in the mornings, bleeding, sore, and bruised. They were told they were being punished for sins, etc. It was only when one of the women caught one of the men coming into her bedroom did they figure out that multiple men were drugging and raping them in the night. When one of the women attacked one of the men with a scythe, the eight accused men were sent away to jail (for their protection). But the other men wanted to bail them out and bring them back. The women would then be expected to forgive them, or they would lose their place in heaven.

This really happened. This book takes that situation and (fictionally) has the women discussing what to do while the men are away. Three options: they can do nothing, they can stay and fight, or they can leave. These are the options being discussed (at least among those who don’t want to simply do nothing). They need to decide before the men return, so there is a limited time frame to discuss and decide.

One man, a teacher who once left the community with his excommunicated parents, but did return, is in the women’s meeting to take notes. None of the women can read, they do not know their way around very far outside their own community, and they only speak Low German (not any local languages outside their community).

What a horrible situation! Their were even children who were violated. It was an interesting discussion happening among the women (though told from August’s POV, and what he was seeing and hearing during the discussions). I would have liked to know what the women really did in the end (if anything), and will likely look that up.

[froxgirl · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Read the book or see the movie first? I'm an avid reader, so book first is usually my plan. But I didn't get there in time, and following up on the incredible movie with the equally stunning book is a perfect package. Firstly, to take such a horrendous crime, taking place within a religious community the author was once affiliated with, and to swaddle it in such painful beauty and grace is exceptional. Both are seen through the eyes of August, whose parents left the colony with him and moved to London, where he became caught up in a demonstration and jailed. Making his way back after his parents' abandonment and death, he acts as scribe because none of the women are literate and because he's judged a eunuch by the men of the colony, since he doesn't farm and isn't married. He's also in love with Ona, one of the many women, girls, and babies who has been raped while unconscious by some of the men. The movie cannot show all the underlying subplots, one of which is that perhaps the men accused and jailed are not guilty but were accused by the one man who was caught and who were fringe community members like August, and another regarding Bishop Peters, whose character is not in the movie at all. The movie does capture the incredible emotions that tie together the women who are to decide the fate of the colony, all of whom are blood relations. To read the book first could render the reader a bit unsatisfied by all that is not clarified in the book, so in this case, I think that with both available to me, seeing the movie first was the right decision.

[misses_london · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I spent time infuriated while reading this because I loathe, loathe, loathe forced gender roles. And patriarchy. So I had to dip my toes slowly and took my time acclimating to the setting. Just like the title says, this is women talking but curiously narrated by some dude. Granted, the narrator wasn't the distraction I at first feared he'd be since this story is, after all, meant to be about the women's plight and how they resolve to deal with it. And, God, is it grim. But it's also hopeful and philosophical and beautiful. Toward the end of the book there are a couple of absolutely gorgeous passages that I hoped to paste portions of in my review but won't because the passages were *so* beautiful that I couldn't decide on which bits to exclude!

I'm glad I read it, even if I do feel like I need a punching bag now to vent some anger. I know it probably wasn't the author's intent, but I was secretly hoping about midway through that we'd see a bit of violence after that one bloke unexpectedly appeared. I definitely need to vent.

[Maitane · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The plot based on real events is overwhelming, and it never delves into gruesome details; it focuses only on mentioning the assaults, but doesn’t linger on them. Despite this, there are passages that I found very harsh.

Sexual assaults on women and girls in a Mennonite (Amish style) community in Bolivia in 2009. In reality, the plot isn't the assaults; this is the backdrop. The story revolves around the reflections of the women victims, considering their way of life and religion, and this has left a deep impression on me. How important it is to understand other realities and how difficult it is to put myself in their shoes!

The way it is written struck me as peculiar; it’s not a style that I fell in love with, but being so short, it didn’t feel heavy to me.

I’ve also seen the movie, but I prefer the novel.

Would I recommend it? Yes, without a doubt. (Translated from Spanish)

[brownchoco · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I knew what the story was about, and that's precisely why I read it. By the first page, I was in a bad mood; I had to stop, catch my breath, and not let myself get carried away by hatred. I needed to see why these atrocities were happening and the martyrdom of those women and girls. Throughout the novel, one feels uncomfortable, disgusted, and angry—understandably so. But in the end, we must analyze the series of factors that allow all this to occur, where women had all the world's obligations and no rights because, according to men, that's what the Bible said, where they lived in constant fear of divine punishment, being illiterate, and where they were treated like animals. If we add all this up and consider that the man is the absolute master, then the least that could happen is what we are told in this narrative. How disgusted I feel when I see how little humanity, in this case, man, has evolved; we do not deserve the land we tread on. (Translated from Spanish)

[VanessaS · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

A very interesting book that debunks the idea that women in a patriarchal, ultra-conservative, and authoritarian community can only be submissive. The author belonged to one and knows what she is talking about.

The book is born from a real event: the rape of women and girls in a Mennonite colony by the men of the community after drugging them with animal medication. In the book, the assemblies organized by the women behind the backs of the men are recreated to decide what to do. They reach a final decision based on certain principles: pacifism, protecting the defenseless, and maintaining faith. They also emphasize that they want to think even if they cannot read or write. I can’t think of better reasons to justify a decision. (Translated from Spanish)

[gypsysmom_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is a novel but it is what Miriam Toews thinks might have happened in response to real incidents that took place on a Mennonite colony in Bolivia between 2005 and 2009. One review headline called this book a Mennonite #MeToo Novel.

Here in Manitoba we have many Mennonites as it is one of the places that promised Mennonites fleeing from persecution in Russia in the late 19th and early 20th centuries land, autonomy and freedom from serving in the military. That is probably why the Mennonite community highlighted in this book was called the Manitoba colony even though it was located in rural Bolivia. This community was far more restrictive than most of the Mennonite communities in Canada. Women were kept illiterate and did not travel beyond the colony's borders. They did not handle money even though their quilt making brought in a significant amount of funds for the colony. Men, which included boys over the age of 13, made all the decisions and women were taught to obey their husbands. So, it was a very repressive society for women. But during the period between 2005 and 2009 women and girls (one as young as 3 years old) were knocked unconscious with a animal sedative and then raped and assaulted. Almost every female was assaulted during this period. The women complained to the community authorities but nothing was actually done until some women set a trap to catch one of the perpetrators. He gave up the names of eight other men and all nine were charged mostly to remove the men from experiencing the wrath of the community's women. When the novel opens the perpetrators are in jail in the city and all the men of the community have gone there to arrange for bail. The head of the community, Bishop Peters, has declared that when they return the men will ask for forgiveness and the women must grant forgiveness so that everyone can enter heaven when they die. Peters has also declared that if the women don't forgive the men then the women will have to leave the community. The book is ostensibly a written record of the discussions the women have to decide whether they will stay and forgive, stay and fight, or leave. Since all of the women are illiterate they have drafted the one man in the community who remained behind, teacher August Epp. The women don't see August as a threat because he is not like all the other men as he can't till a field or castrate a pig. So August sits in on the discussions and records not just the words but also the emotions and background information. Despite being illiterate the women are not stupid and they debate the options with logic and passion and even wit.

This probably is not an accurate portrayal of what happened at the community. In fact, a woman of my acquaintance who was raised as a Mennonite says that there is no way a man would be allowed to sit in on the discussions in a traditional place like the one portrayed. Nevertheless it is a useful vehicle to express what the women must have gone through in their minds and in their conversations. I listened to the audiobook which was narrated very ably by Mathew Edison.

[romonko · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is a fictionalized account of a real-life occurrence.
"Between 2005 and 2009, in a remote religious Mennonite colony, over a hundred girls and women were knocked unconscious and raped, often repeatedly, by what many thought were ghosts or demons, as a punishment for their sins." As it turned out, 8 men from the colony were responsible for these attacks, and they were arrested and sent to prison for their crimes. But some of the girls that attacked were as young as three, and, as can be imagined, sexually transmitted diseases, unwanted pregnancies and PTSD were rampant. This book tells us how 8 fictional women meet together in a hayloft, and how they plan to protect themselves and their children by leaving the colony. The book is written as minutes of the meetings that were held in that hayloft. None of the 8 women could read, so they recruited a man to do the recording for them. The book unfolds as August Epp, who is a teacher in the colony, begins to fully understand what these women have been putting up with for many years. It's a story of survival and a story of women taking back their power over their own destinies. It's a difficult book to read, but it's an affirmation of the strength of women and also a testimonial to their determination to do whatever it takes to save their children and grandchildren. Miriam Toews does a masterful job of putting this down in writing, and with her stark prose, and her wonderful grasp of getting to the main issue, this book is a must-read for women today. The "me-too" society has brought all this to the forefront these days, so the book is timely and appropriate.

[acgarcia 1972 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

A Mennonite colony, a story of abuse, pain, oppression, women who lack voice and life.... A fiction???? Excellent dose of reality..... (Translated from Spanish)

[tangledthread · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Speculative fiction based on a real case in Bolivia of a sequestered community of Mennonites where a group of men sedated and raped women of all ages in the community. The narrator is a male who returned to the community after being excommunicated with his parents as a child. The community is so isolated that they speak their own language based on old German and the women are not allowed to attend school, so they are illiterate and know nothing of the world outside of the confines of their small patriarchal, authoritarian community.

The substance of the book is the discussions by two families of women, three generations from each family, who are discussing what their alternatives are in response to the actions of the men. They are able to meet because Bishop Peters and other men are in town, trying to raise bail for the alleged perpetrators of the rapes. They ended up in civil action because of one of the men was nearly murdered by one of the women victims.

The narrative is so subtle that the horrifying situation that the women are in sinks in slowly with the reader. The all encompassing violence of the men, perpetrated by the absolute power they hold over the community.

One telling quote related by hearsay from Bishop Peters in response to a newspaper clipping about what had happened to the women of the colony: "Dump men in the middle of nowhere, confine them, abuse them, suspend them in limbo, and this is what you get."

I give it 3.5 stars, mostly because there is some inconsistency in the language, vocabulary, and ideas that the women might have had available to them.

[lauranthalas-1 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Unpopular opinion - this just wasn‘t for me. Maybe because the “narrator” was male; I wanted more about the female characters; for being so short it seemed redundant.

It‘s horrific to think this is based off real life events and I applaud the author for bringing what happened to light.

[brenzi_3 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The fact that this novel is based on a true story makes me shudder. It takes place in a Bolivian village occupied by a Mennonite community. There have been a series of what are described as "ghost rapes" where women and girls as young as three (!) have been sexually assaulted after being drugged while they sleep during the night. After much hesitation by the man at the head of this sect, the police are finally called in to investigate and several men have been arrested.

While all of the men are either under arrest or away at the main city where the men are being held trying to arrange bail, the male school teacher is secretly taking the minutes of the meeting of the women involved as they try to list the pros and cons of leaving or staying. The problems are immense. They are illiterate for the most part and have never set foot outside of their small community. As they discuss their choices it becomes obvious that the patriarchy has left them defenseless and with few options. Highly recommended.

[beth.clarke · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I thoroughly enjoyed Women Talking. The story may not be what readers expect. It starts after the abuse and ends before the readers know exactly what happens to them. It is truly just the period of time when the women are talking. The book is great because of the content and how it makes the reader feel and think. One can't help but to think how they would react in this situation - it's unimaginable. The writing is a bit circular, but I didn't find it distracting from the story.

[ridgewaygirl · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

In a remote Mennonite community in South America, women, girls and even toddlers are waking up with unexplained injuries and coming down with inexplicable STDs. The leader of the community explains it to them that they were violated by demons as the consequences of their own sin, but it is eventually discovered that some of the men are drugging the women and then raping them while they are unconscious. Despite all efforts, the attacks continue until outside authorities are brought in. They arrest the rapists and take them to the city, but the remaining men decide that the best course of action is to go bail the men out and bring them back to the community. During the men's absence, the women come together to discuss what they can do. This is an account of those meetings.

The most terrifying aspect of this novel is that it is based on true events.

Toews presents a group ill-prepared for life outside of the Mennonite community. Unlike men, who receive a very basic education, the women are illiterate and don't even know what lies beyond their own lands. They know that they will be expected to forgive the attackers and struggle with whether this is even possible. This is a thoughtful book, carefully representing a faith community that is little known to outsiders. It's also a very quiet, contained novel, despite the lurid subject matter. In the end, the question the women must collectively decide is whether to stay or to leave, and as they grapple with the possible consequences of both actions, a slow consensus builds.

[ainjel-3 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I feel like this is such an important little book, of the value of collectivity, of the power in women talking, of the resilience of oppressed groups. Not only is this a story I have never heard before, but it is told through voices that feel familiar. I'm so interested in the fact that a book about women talking is told from a male voice-- and even when this is explained in the text and the logical reasoning is given, it still makes me think.

There is so much going on here. I really hope people take the chance to read it because it's something special.

[ecataldi-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

DAYUM! This book was eye opening and painful to read. The writing was wonderful but the subject matter itself was so hard to stomach, even more so because even though this story is fictionalized, it's based off of true events. Between 2005 and 2009 hundreds of Mennonite women and children were drugged in their sleep and raped. The small Mennonite colonies thought that demons and ghosts were violating them in their sleep, when they reported it to their husbands and fathers no one believed it at first, when women started taking to each other they realized that it wasn't just them, nearly all women (regardless of age) were being attacked in the night and then waking up violated with blood and semen on their thighs and bed. The rapes continued happening until a woman caught two of the attackers sneaking into her house before they could knock her out with the Belladonna spray. The men were then arrested (for their own safety), but the woman found no solace. They were soon told that in order to get to heaven they had to forgive their attackers and allow them back into the community. Women Talking is a fictionalized account of the women meeting and trying to talk out their feelings and their best plan of action for when the men return. They decide that they have three options: stay and do nothing, stay and fight, or leave . Over the course of two days they discuss the pros and cons of each and in the process reveal their deepest, fears, concerns, and questions of faith. It's heartbreaking, empowering, and a must read. Wonderful, albeit upsetting.

[lilibrarian · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A group of men in a small isolated Mennonite community drugged and raped women and girls of all ages. The clan's leader told the women that the devil was visiting them in dreams. Now that they have discovered this to be a lie, they must decide whether to forgive the men and stay in their homes, fight, or leave. This book is the minutes of their meetings. Based on a true occurrence.

[janarose1 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Over a period of years, Mennonite women were repeatedly raped at night. What they believed to be demons, turned out to be a group of men from their own community. Using an animal tranquilizer, the men would spray into the house, and then rape the women. This book takes place after the men are caught and imprisoned. The women are trying to decide whether to stay in the community or leave.

Although this was an interesting story, I did not like the writing style. The book just talked in circles. There was very little forward movement. All of the characters blended together, no one seemed to have a unique voice. Overall, a bust.

[akblanchard_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Miriam Toews's novel Women Talking is about just that: over the course of a few days in 2009, eight ultraconservative Mennonite women living in a remote colony in Bolivia talk about what do in the aftermath of a series of brutal rapes that seem to have affected every woman and girl they know. As they see it, they have three options: they can stay and forgive their menfolk (the perpetrators), stay and fight them, or leave the colony to protect themselves and their children. The colony's women are illiterate and only speak an old form of German, so they ask an "effeminate" man of the colony to take meeting minutes for them in English, even though they can't read them (this part of the premise I found a little implausible, but without it there wouldn't be a story.

The women talk about the patriarchy that oppresses them. They rightly deduce that the rape is a crime of power, not of sex. The women are concerned with the spiritual implications of the crimes are discussed as well.

For a book without much on-stage action, Toews succeeds in building up genuine suspense. Will the women stay or go?

Despite its brief length, Women Talking is somewhat slow going. Nonetheless, it rewards the time it takes to read it.

[mzonderm · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A small group of women gather to decide what to do after it is revealed that they, along with most other women and girls in their community, have been repeatedly drugged and raped by the men of their small Mennonite colony. Will they forgive the men, stay and fight, or leave the colony? Their discussions range over what it means to have the freedom to choose, whether one can be a pacifist if one harbors a desire a kill, how best to protect one's children, and many more philosophical topics.

It was somewhat jarring that a book that seemed as though it was to be about female empowerment was told from a man's perspective, but it worked. He is privy to the women talking as an amanuensis; none of the women can read or write, but want their deliberations preserved for posterity. He's an outsider in the colony, for reasons that aren't entirely clear, but his outsider status allows the women to trust him for this task, and makes him appropriately sensitive to them, in a way that no other man of their acquaintance could, or would, be.

And perhaps this is a realistic notion of what could happen when such an insulated group of people is threatened in this way. But I found it troubling to read about a group of women facing such a threat to themselves and their children and spending two days sitting in a hayloft debating the finer points of free will, rather than making actual plans. The lack of action in the books gives it a claustrophobic feel, which seems appropriate under the circumstances, and that feeling of clautrophobia helps keep the pressure on throughout the narrative, having the effect of sucking the reader through the story, rather in the manner of a pneumatic tube.

So what will the women decide to do, and will they be able to follow through on that decision? That is what they are talking about, and the question of whether they will be able to sieze their freedom, no matter what they decide, will leave the reader thinking long after the last page.

[hubblegal-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This book is based on a real-life event, which makes it all the more shocking. Between 2005 and 2009, hundreds of girls and women were raped by eight men from the Mennonite colony they were all part of. The men used an animal anesthetic to knock out their victims and then raped them. At first, the women didn’t know they had been raped but only that they would wake up in the morning feeling exhausted with their bodies bloody and beaten. They were told that ghosts or demons had done it as punishment for their sins or that they were lying or covering up adulterous affairs or that it was all in their imagination. Very young children were included in these rapes, as well as elderly women. Some of the women became pregnant. In 2011, the accused men were convicted. Even after the arrest of these eight men, the attacks still took place.

In Ms. Toews’ book, eight of the raped women meet in a hayloft to discuss what they should do to prevent themselves and their daughters from further harm. Should they stay and fight or should they leave? They had a window of opportunity as the men were off trying to raise money for the accused men’s bail. These women were never told how to read or write and knew nothing about reading a map or where they could go. They were told if they could not forgive these men, they could not enter the Kingdom of Heaven. So they had a lot to discuss. If a women whose 3-year-old child had been raped couldn’t forgive in her heart, wasn’t it a worse sin to say she forgave the men even if she didn’t mean it? The women in this community were just commodities to these men and had no say in anything. In reading this book, it was hard to believe that this happened in 2005-2009 and wasn’t something occurring centuries ago.

The author does such an excellent job of delving into the hearts and minds of these courageous women. I felt their fear and their heartache and their confusion as to what they should do to make their lives bearable. The suspense builds as the time for the men to return nears. In trying to decide what they should do, they have lengthy discussions about religion and faith. There were times they seemed to forget the urgency of their situation and lectured each other. There’s some humor in this book, despite its dark subject. It’s one of the most unique books I’ve ever read. Don’t expect much of a plot as the book is just what the title says it is – women talking. I think it was quite exceptional and destined to become a feminist classic. Not all readers will like the format of this book but the emotional depth of this story is just astounding.

Most highly recommended.

This book was given to me by the publisher in return for an honest review.

[c.archer · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Where to start? This is a unique and tiny time capsule in the life of this group of Mennonite women. They have been trying to make up their minds about some decisions about their lives after months of having been drugged and sexually violated by male members of their patriarchal community. They have been dominated all their lives by men-forbidden to go to school or learn to read. They have no say in their community, but plenty to say amongst themselves.
Eight of the women meet over two evenings while the men are away and discuss their options. Should they leave, stay and acquiesce, or stay and fight the men. Their meetings make up the near entirety of the book. The conversations amongst themselves are lively and entertaining, but certainly the reality of disparate women unleashed to discuss a topic candidly. The one variable here is that they aren’t alone. They have enlisted the help of the male schoolteacher to take minutes which they have no ability to read.
I found the topic of this book interesting, yet in reality it didn’t live up to my expectations. The women were victims, yet some seemed willing to accept their role as pawns to the men in the community. They often came off as petty and self-righteous among themselves, and were constantly driven off track by minor irritations and random comments. I was surprised to find that I was more accepting of their indulgences as I read on. It was interesting how much I could get to know and appreciate the characters of these women just through these two evenings. I found myself caring about their choices and outcome by the end of the book after being more than a bit exasperated at the start.
The real wild card in this book was the character of August, the teacher, and his role as secretary for the women and narrator of the story. It is obvious that he has an affinity for one of the women that seems mutual. The other women either find him to be sympathetic or at least tolerable. Several times they ask him for his opinion or allow him to share a comment. Still, he is one of the men, and as such has no part in their decision. The author’s placement of him in this role seems a bit of a paradox.
Interestingly, this story is based on a real event. The author does seem to have a purpose behind her version the story. It made me think and will probably stay with me awhile. If for no other reason, I liked the book and would give it 3.5 stars.
I hesitate to recommend this title to everyone. I think it’s for a select audience of readers who enjoy books that make them look at things in a different way. It might work for certain book clubs, but will probably be a “did not finish” for many readers. I would suggest that anyone who gives it a try commit to persevering through to the end. You won’t find it to be a climactic one, but you won’t get the full flavor of the writing without finishing. It is absolutely not a book for action or thrill oriented readers!
My thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for the opportunity to read and review this title.

[booklove2 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Based on horrifying true events, Miriam Toews felt compelled to tell this story about these women. After women in a Mennonite colony in Boliva realize they are being attacked at night by the men, with the help of belladonna (and it isn't the devil visiting them to make them pay for their sins) they have to decide whether to Do Nothing, Stay and Fight or Leave. The book relates the fictional discussion the women have. The book seems equally split between nine characters: the eight women talking and a man: August Epp, who is taking the minutes of the discussion as the women can not read or write, and because of this is the first person narrator. Having a male narrator in this book was an interesting choice, especially when part of what the women were talking about was that they wanted to have the right to their own thoughts and voices. But August is only the best possible male narrator, as he has been to the outside world is also very sensitive to what is going on, being a very caring man. Another odd choice was having August be in love with one of the women, though he was in love with her at a very young age. Possibly the book might have been a bit more manageable and smooth going with six women talking? Up to the end, the details parceled out are superb -- seemed really nicely planned. I love the detail of the bishop playing games on his cellphone while others work the fields, when none of them are even allowed rubber tires on their buggies because it might enable a faster escape. Based on such darkness, there is a lovely way that Toews observes even the smallest of details, much like Ona, one of the main characters. At one point, the women ask August to write "a list of good things" which is all one can do sometimes in oppressive unbearable situations: appreciate the small, good things. Personally, somehow I had never heard that any of these events happened, so I think Miriam Toews definitely should have written this book: it does give a voice to these women, especially as Toews herself was once in a Mennonite community. However, I think the only people who can truly judge this book, are those that lived the real life version.

**Note: My advance reading copy had some major typos involving dates, which was VERY confusing, and took me out of the book a bit, so that was destined to create a diminished reading experience for me. I wasn't sure where I could check the actual dates in the finished copy, considering the book isn't published in the US until April. I tried contacting marketing but they weren't much help and that was the only e-mail address I had. The detail that was confusing: On the first pages of the book, it is said that the 'minutes' of the meeting are being taken in real time (as 'minutes' usually are) on June 6 and 7 2009. 2009 is mentioned on the early page 'minutes of the women talking'. But on page 99, when this is still supposed to be 2009 (as far as I can tell), August is talking about a newspaper article with a headline "in 2011". So this makes it sound like the minutes aren't being taken in 2009? If anyone can clarify, I'd appreciate it.

[oldblack-1 · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

Oh no! I so much wanted to like this book, after having loved a couple of other works by this author. This novel, however, is not for me. I'm sure it's good writing, and for the right reader it's probably a wonderful meaningful story. But I played the Nancy Pearl card and took it back to the library. Maybe I'm just the wrong gender or perhaps haven't been through the sorts of things that women everywhere experience.

[lynnb_64 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Thank you, Schatje, for your excellent review (see below). I am very moved by this novel about women living in a patriarchal world. They are abused, not valued, deliberately kept ignorant of the world, even how to read or write. In this novel, based on a real case of systematic rape, the women are deciding what to do as the perpetrators are about to return to the colony. They could stay and fight for their safety and rights, or they could leave the colony. What struck me is how principled the women are in considering their options, how deep their faith remains, how important they consider what is best for themselves, their children, and even the men of the colony. This is an excellent examination of the affects of extreme patriarchy, and a good story of courage and moral strength.