I don't think I could have read "The Edible Woman" at a better time than now, when topics of feminism are becoming more and more present. I originally picked up this book because of its title and because I wanted to check out some Atwood--admittedly, this is my first time reading her. The title alone has so many implications--that women are consumable, visceral, sinewy, sexual, and all of the above. The main character is so honest and real that I often forgot throughout the book that she was being consumed the whole time. It wasn't until the last few chapters where the title suddenly becomes perfectly apt and everything falls into place. I love the balance between feminine power and the loss of power in this book, present in Marian, her friend Ainsley, and her friend Clara. Ainsley is desperate to become pregnant because she believes that having a baby is the ultimate sign of womanhood, and she is matched against Clara who may be described as slightly more classy than "barefoot and pregnant". She has two kids running around, another one on the way, and a husband who becomes the natural caretaker because of her weak state. Despite these women feeling like they have power over the situation, they don't realize how they fall into the masculine societal norms. Marian seems vaguely aware of the society she is living in, yet unaware of how to shift the boundaries. She falls for Duncan, an English graduate student, and claims that she is never disturbed by his admittance of the fact that he may only be using her. And I can't help but completely agree with his spot-on soliloquy: "[Grad school] looks exciting when you're an eager brilliant undergraduate. They all say, Go on to graduate studies, and they give you a bit of money; and so you do, and you think, Now I'm going to find out the real truth. But you don't find out, exactly, and things get pickier and pickier and more and more stale, and it all collapses in a welter of commas and shredded footnotes, and after a while it's like anything else:you've got stuck in it and and you can't get out, and you wonder how you got there in the first place" (98-99). If I could hug Duncan, without breaking his brittle frame, I would.
This book is so now and touches me on so many levels. It turns me inside out, puts frosting on me, and makes me feel like eating and being eaten are essentially the same thing and rather than wonder if women should be exposing themselves or covering themselves up, we should ask if we are being eaten and who is it good for?