Helpful Score: 4
I have a "new pair of shoes" for you to try on. Close your eyes and picture yourself in these circumstances:
You're either a female, aged fifty, or a male, aged sixty. You live alone. You are childless. You don't make much money, and you certainly don't have a job in any of the "important" industries. So what, you may ask? Well, if you fit this description, a nice van will come to pick you up and whisk you away to one of the climate-controlled Reserve Bank Units for biological material. There you will be given a very nice small apartment. You will have access to the best food, the best shops, the best exercise facilities, and you don't have to pay for any of it. Well, that's not quite true. You will be paying dearly for it.
If you fit the description in the above paragraph, you have been termed "dispensable" by the government. You haven't contributed your fair share to society, and now is the time that you're expected to rectify your oversight. For the next few years, you will be taken care of, but you will also be expected to participate in medical and psychological experimentation, and you will donate your organs, a little bit at a time, until it's time for your "final donation".
This is the situation that Dorrit Weger finds herself in at the beginning of The Unit, a powerful debut novel by Swedish author, Ninni Holmqvist. I felt claustrophobic from the start. As Dorrit explores her lovely new apartment, she notices cameras everywhere. Everywhere. The closets, the bathroom...everywhere. There are no windows in her apartment. No snail mail, no email, no text messages, no telephone calls. No Internet surfing without strict supervision. Many of the people in these Reserve Bank Units might seem familiar to anyone who surfs the Internet reading book reviews and blogs:
"Well, it's because there are so many intellectuals here. People who read books."
"I see," I said again.
"People who read books," he went on, "tend to be dispensable. Extremely."
"Right," I said.
"Yes," he said.
Throughout the book, Holmqvist remains matter-of-fact. She tells her tale simply and doesn't try to make it into something it's not...and that's exactly what gives The Unit its mesmerizing, chilling power. There is much food for thought in the pages of this book. I'm still wondering if I could cope living in a society such as the one the author describes. Would I be willing to give up my freedom and shorten my life to live in the lap of luxury for a few years, knowing at the end that I will have helped many people by giving up parts of my body?
I still don't know, and I'm still pondering Dorrit's behavior at book's end. As I said, there is much to think about during and after reading this haunting tale. If this is indicative of the type of story-telling Holmqvist has within her, I hope to read many more of her books in the future.
You're either a female, aged fifty, or a male, aged sixty. You live alone. You are childless. You don't make much money, and you certainly don't have a job in any of the "important" industries. So what, you may ask? Well, if you fit this description, a nice van will come to pick you up and whisk you away to one of the climate-controlled Reserve Bank Units for biological material. There you will be given a very nice small apartment. You will have access to the best food, the best shops, the best exercise facilities, and you don't have to pay for any of it. Well, that's not quite true. You will be paying dearly for it.
If you fit the description in the above paragraph, you have been termed "dispensable" by the government. You haven't contributed your fair share to society, and now is the time that you're expected to rectify your oversight. For the next few years, you will be taken care of, but you will also be expected to participate in medical and psychological experimentation, and you will donate your organs, a little bit at a time, until it's time for your "final donation".
This is the situation that Dorrit Weger finds herself in at the beginning of The Unit, a powerful debut novel by Swedish author, Ninni Holmqvist. I felt claustrophobic from the start. As Dorrit explores her lovely new apartment, she notices cameras everywhere. Everywhere. The closets, the bathroom...everywhere. There are no windows in her apartment. No snail mail, no email, no text messages, no telephone calls. No Internet surfing without strict supervision. Many of the people in these Reserve Bank Units might seem familiar to anyone who surfs the Internet reading book reviews and blogs:
"Well, it's because there are so many intellectuals here. People who read books."
"I see," I said again.
"People who read books," he went on, "tend to be dispensable. Extremely."
"Right," I said.
"Yes," he said.
Throughout the book, Holmqvist remains matter-of-fact. She tells her tale simply and doesn't try to make it into something it's not...and that's exactly what gives The Unit its mesmerizing, chilling power. There is much food for thought in the pages of this book. I'm still wondering if I could cope living in a society such as the one the author describes. Would I be willing to give up my freedom and shorten my life to live in the lap of luxury for a few years, knowing at the end that I will have helped many people by giving up parts of my body?
I still don't know, and I'm still pondering Dorrit's behavior at book's end. As I said, there is much to think about during and after reading this haunting tale. If this is indicative of the type of story-telling Holmqvist has within her, I hope to read many more of her books in the future.
Helpful Score: 2
Very reminiscent in my mind of the Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood.
I have always been very leery of translated books, feeling that something was going to get lost. But this book was all too real and all to relevant in a world that has gone slightly mad.
Dorrit Weger has hit the age, when women are over fifty and men are over sixty and childless, and are working in non progressive jobs, when they are taken to the Second Reserve Bank Unit. There their life starts over. They are given lovely apartments, medical care, delicious food, exercise and entertainment. The only problem is that they must subject themselves to drug and psychological testing, donating their organs, and then one day they are expected to make the final donation.
But what happens in this unit is beyond the psychological testing, beyond the separation from the outside world that has ignored them and separated them from productive people. Who consider them dispensable. Bonds are made and when the truly unthinkable, the highly improbable happens, Dorrit must make a choice that would be beyond the ability of most women.
This truly remarkable book hold you from beginning to end and is highly recommended for both the thought provoking read and for book group discussions.
I have always been very leery of translated books, feeling that something was going to get lost. But this book was all too real and all to relevant in a world that has gone slightly mad.
Dorrit Weger has hit the age, when women are over fifty and men are over sixty and childless, and are working in non progressive jobs, when they are taken to the Second Reserve Bank Unit. There their life starts over. They are given lovely apartments, medical care, delicious food, exercise and entertainment. The only problem is that they must subject themselves to drug and psychological testing, donating their organs, and then one day they are expected to make the final donation.
But what happens in this unit is beyond the psychological testing, beyond the separation from the outside world that has ignored them and separated them from productive people. Who consider them dispensable. Bonds are made and when the truly unthinkable, the highly improbable happens, Dorrit must make a choice that would be beyond the ability of most women.
This truly remarkable book hold you from beginning to end and is highly recommended for both the thought provoking read and for book group discussions.
Helpful Score: 2
(NOTE: I am a volunteer reviewer for newly published books. You may see my reviews posted on multiple websites, but it is my review, and I am posting it here as well.)
"The Unit" is a thought-provoking, and beautifully written debut novel for Swedish author Ninni Holmqvist. Dorrit Weger, upon turning 50, checks into the Second Reserve Bank Unit for biological material. Because she has no children, no spouse or lover with whom she households, and no job in a progressive industry, she is deemed dispensable by the government. She is not a needed one.
Set in the not-too-distant future, "The Unit" takes us through the progress of the dispensable--women over 50 and men over 60, who meet these criteria. They live in relative luxury; the Second Reserve Bank Unit is a picturesque complex where it is always spring and restaurants, shops, and fitness centers are all free. In exchange, residents undergo humane drug and physical testing, minor organ and tissue donation, and eventually, a final donation. Residents are quick to form friendships and relationships, and we follow Dorrit through her initiation and subsequent struggle in coming to terms with her own self-worth, and the eventual loss of those with whom she has grown close. When Dorrit learns that she is pregnant, she is faced with a loss that she cannot imagine and is presented with an opportunity to escape. Because the compound is under constant surveillance, Dorrit must act quickly and decisively when the opportunity arises, and the reader is taken on an unexpected journey.
As Holmqvist explores the mandatory government program through the eyes of participants, one is tempted to drink the Kool-Aid and entertain the thought that human life could be exchanged in an economy where one's value is measurable. How easy would it be to walk away from financial obligations, the stress of unemployment, or housing woes, especially if there is no one to share the burden with you? This concept is not cut and dried, and Holmqvist deftly moves the reader through stages of resentment, acceptance, denial, peace, and grief in such a way that the concept is momentarily considered as a possibility. This highly discussable book would be an excellent choice for a book club.
"The Unit" is a thought-provoking, and beautifully written debut novel for Swedish author Ninni Holmqvist. Dorrit Weger, upon turning 50, checks into the Second Reserve Bank Unit for biological material. Because she has no children, no spouse or lover with whom she households, and no job in a progressive industry, she is deemed dispensable by the government. She is not a needed one.
Set in the not-too-distant future, "The Unit" takes us through the progress of the dispensable--women over 50 and men over 60, who meet these criteria. They live in relative luxury; the Second Reserve Bank Unit is a picturesque complex where it is always spring and restaurants, shops, and fitness centers are all free. In exchange, residents undergo humane drug and physical testing, minor organ and tissue donation, and eventually, a final donation. Residents are quick to form friendships and relationships, and we follow Dorrit through her initiation and subsequent struggle in coming to terms with her own self-worth, and the eventual loss of those with whom she has grown close. When Dorrit learns that she is pregnant, she is faced with a loss that she cannot imagine and is presented with an opportunity to escape. Because the compound is under constant surveillance, Dorrit must act quickly and decisively when the opportunity arises, and the reader is taken on an unexpected journey.
As Holmqvist explores the mandatory government program through the eyes of participants, one is tempted to drink the Kool-Aid and entertain the thought that human life could be exchanged in an economy where one's value is measurable. How easy would it be to walk away from financial obligations, the stress of unemployment, or housing woes, especially if there is no one to share the burden with you? This concept is not cut and dried, and Holmqvist deftly moves the reader through stages of resentment, acceptance, denial, peace, and grief in such a way that the concept is momentarily considered as a possibility. This highly discussable book would be an excellent choice for a book club.
Helpful Score: 1
WoW I read this book in one day. It was amazing, it made me pause to take in passages. Sad, and plausible.
Helpful Score: 1
A disturbing book that leads you to take a hard look at relationships and quality of life. It is thought provoking and I have several lively discussions about the topic since I finished it....less than 24 hours ago.
Helpful Score: 1
I found this book to be subtly thought provoking, and; when I finished reading it, I felt as settled as the main character with the inevitable ending. I am somewhat haunted by how easily I too became accepting of the surroundings and circumstances the writer describes.
I recommend this book to my friends as it has provoked me to re-think my environment and find new appreciated for the life I have been given in a way that works of fiction have not done so before. A worthy fast read for the strong of heart.
I recommend this book to my friends as it has provoked me to re-think my environment and find new appreciated for the life I have been given in a way that works of fiction have not done so before. A worthy fast read for the strong of heart.
Helpful Score: 1
This had me 'waffling' back and forth b/t frustration, annoying and flat out LOVING the book! It is an odd but magnetic book: cold and distant, warm and touching; parts were just infuriating. After the first half, I really couldn't put it down. No spoilers but the ending surprised me.
I am typically a paranormal romance/horror girl, but I enjoyed this sci-fi. The style is in NO way flowery, as romances can be but the descriptions and imagery that Ms Holmqvist uses makes you SEE the 'unit' that she lived in.
I would certainly recommend it to others.
I am typically a paranormal romance/horror girl, but I enjoyed this sci-fi. The style is in NO way flowery, as romances can be but the descriptions and imagery that Ms Holmqvist uses makes you SEE the 'unit' that she lived in.
I would certainly recommend it to others.
Helpful Score: 1
I purchased this book and read it in a day. I was intriqued by the plot. I thought it was reminiscent of "Soilent Green" is a way. How humans are dispensible. If I hadn't read that the book was translated into English, I wouldn't have known. Good book, and a fairly fast read.
What a wonderful story, so scary a concept, and with the new health care bill, so possible in the future. I could not put this book down. I know that sounds trite, but I just couldn't. The writer's style had me connecting with Dorritt from the first few pages. The horror of what could happen in the future, the grace and love that was shown in the face of that horror, was intriguing. This is a book to be passed on and read by everyone over 18. I can see that it could be very disturbing for younger readers. Or maybe I am being old fashioned, thinking this way. I will have this one on my mind for a long time.
The Unit is an age-reversed Never Let Me Go. In a near-future democratic Sweden, women over 50 and men over 60 who are single, childless, and not deemed to have professionally contributed are labeled dispensable. Such individuals are then deposited in the Reserve Bank Units for biological materials, where they are to participate in ''humane" medical experiments and donate organs as needed. Dorrit is one such dispensable, a writer who chronicles her life immediately before and after moving into the Unit. Although the residents are well looked after, they are constantly under surveillance in their very pleasant surroundings. There are poignant moments, but the prose has a flat affect throughout—I'm not sure if that is the author's intent or a result of the translation. Although the details of the society are not fully explained, there is enough to be thought-provoking in this well-written debut novel by Ninni Holmqvist.
I was completely sucked in by this Swedish work pondering a dystopian future where those elderly deemed as "dispensable" are sent to retirement homes that double as medical experimentation and organ donation centers. Addressing question from what makes a person needed, to the fears unique to being an elderly person, to how much should an individual be willing to contribute of her own self to the greater good, this book is an excellent, unique, thought-provoking entry into dystopian literature. Highly recommended to fans of dystopian and scifi literature as well as those interested in sociology and psychology.
Check out my full review.
Check out my full review.
The perfect read for anyone who didn't find Kazuo Ishiguro's "Never Let Me Go" quite depressing enough ...
In Holmqvist's dystopian Sweden, women who reach the age of 50 (or for men, 60) without fulfilling certain criteria that prove that they are "needed," or useful to society -- producing children, establishing a committed relationship, and/or maintaining a career that is deemed productive -- are hustled off to a luxurious concentration camp where they will spend the final months of their lives participating in increasingly intrusive medical tests and drugs trials, ultimately donating their organs to those their society does not consider "dispensable."
As you have probably already guessed, this requires an Olympic Gold Medal standard of suspension of disbelief ... but I'm here to say that it's well worth it. This is a different sort of "Scandi noir": it's a fable or thought experiment about the value of any one individual to his or her society (whether you define that society as the State, or your local community, or even your immediate network of family/friends). It is beautifully written (and translated) and, in the end, unbearably poignant.
There are so many layers to be peeled away, as you read, and as you think about what you have read. Some reviewers have pounced on it as a dire warning of what we might be letting ourselves in for with a welfare state, like Sweden's cradle-to-grave support system: "hey, you lefties! This is what you get with socialized medicine!!!" Well, maybe: you could also argue that this is what you get without socialized medicine: "hey, grandma, you need that hip replaced? Diabetes medication? Chemotherapy? Well, tough: quite frankly you're not worth the investment ..." Take your pick ...
Or the interpretation could be more subtle than that ... and more personal: how do we value ourselves as we get older? Do we buy into society's obsession with youth, and with "romance" (you are less than a real person if you're not in a relationship). What can we do with our lives that is of value ... how do we leave the world a better place than the way we found it.
Highly recommended.
In Holmqvist's dystopian Sweden, women who reach the age of 50 (or for men, 60) without fulfilling certain criteria that prove that they are "needed," or useful to society -- producing children, establishing a committed relationship, and/or maintaining a career that is deemed productive -- are hustled off to a luxurious concentration camp where they will spend the final months of their lives participating in increasingly intrusive medical tests and drugs trials, ultimately donating their organs to those their society does not consider "dispensable."
As you have probably already guessed, this requires an Olympic Gold Medal standard of suspension of disbelief ... but I'm here to say that it's well worth it. This is a different sort of "Scandi noir": it's a fable or thought experiment about the value of any one individual to his or her society (whether you define that society as the State, or your local community, or even your immediate network of family/friends). It is beautifully written (and translated) and, in the end, unbearably poignant.
There are so many layers to be peeled away, as you read, and as you think about what you have read. Some reviewers have pounced on it as a dire warning of what we might be letting ourselves in for with a welfare state, like Sweden's cradle-to-grave support system: "hey, you lefties! This is what you get with socialized medicine!!!" Well, maybe: you could also argue that this is what you get without socialized medicine: "hey, grandma, you need that hip replaced? Diabetes medication? Chemotherapy? Well, tough: quite frankly you're not worth the investment ..." Take your pick ...
Or the interpretation could be more subtle than that ... and more personal: how do we value ourselves as we get older? Do we buy into society's obsession with youth, and with "romance" (you are less than a real person if you're not in a relationship). What can we do with our lives that is of value ... how do we leave the world a better place than the way we found it.
Highly recommended.
