When Women Were Dragons: an enduring, feminist novel from New York Times bestselling author, Kelly Barnhill

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A good knot requires presence of mind to make, and can act as a unshakable force in a shaky, unstable world.” In all this we can see clear parallels with America’s troubled political and social past, and its continuing legacy.

In the 1950s Alexandra "Alex" Green, the only child of an absentee father and a stern housewife mother, grows up under the influence of her beloved aunt Marla. In 1955 Marla leaves Alex her texts and love letters between her and several women before disappearing during the mass dragoning event of 1955 in which women morphed into dragons. This story is very much about discrimination and there are times I got so angry with the attitudes of some of the characters, this is all credit to the author. I do love a story that makes me go through various emotions and this one definitely did that. Anger, euphoria, happiness, sadness and a sense of justice are just some of them. The way the author portrayed Alex and other women was just so good, the way they carried themselves with eyes down at the ground while all the time wanting to look up and to the future made it quite a powerful read. This motif is repeated throughout the novel: knots of string and twine and wire forming and unravelling, as women try to stop themselves from dragoning. There is a supernatural element to this, as on occasion Alex views her world as a mirage, changing before:

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More than anything, this book is angry, in a deeply relatable, quietly suppressed way. The allegory of dragons as ‘women’s problems’ is sharply and skilfully woven, from the taboo against even the most euphemistic discussion, to the ingrained expectation that girls “keep their eyes on the ground” so they don’t get any lofty ideas about flying, to the plea that daughters be protected from dragon influences at school (“They asked for America to please think of the children.”) The way Alex herself plays into this dragon-related sexism is an apt example of how women replicate their own experiences to enforce patriarchal expectations: she doesn’t let her younger sister Beatrice play make-believe about dragons or talk about flying with wings, using her mother’s script. “Inappropriate.” As women around the world inexplicably transform into dragons, a young girl struggles to take care of her cousin in 1950s America. I looked at my aunt. I looked at the stranger. I looked at my father. I waited for an explanation, but nothing came. I stamped my foot. They didn’t react. Finally, my father cleared his throat. I really liked Alex, our protagonist/main POV character and loved that the plot acts as a sort of memoir to Alex who tells us her story—from her childhood, her experience of the mass dragoning and how such an event affected the lives of those left behind.

Alex Green is a young girl in a world much like ours, except for its most seminal event: the Mass Dragoning of 1955, when hundreds of thousands of ordinary wives and mothers sprouted wings, scales, and talons; left a trail of fiery destruction in their path; and took to the skies. Was it their choice? What will become of those left behind? Why did Alex's beloved aunt Marla transform but her mother did not? Alex doesn't know. It's taboo to speak of. But you know what? We change lives. And I’m going to argue that we change lives precisely because we force open that too-small box that most human beings think they live in.

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Many things that end up” being meaningful, writes social scientist Joseph Grenny, “have come from conference workshops, articles, or online videos that began as a chore and ended with an insight. My work in Kenya, for example, was heavily influenced by a Christian Science Monitor article I had forced myself to read 10 years earlier. Sometimes, we call things ‘boring’ simply because they lie outside the box we are currently in.” This is a brilliant story that is about women empowering themselves and making the choice as to how they live their own lives. This is a time when women stay home, cook meals, look after the house, raise the children and have a meal ready on the table for when their husband walks in the door. It is very much a patriarchal society and while this story is set in a small area in the US, it was something that was a worldwide thing. My mittens, sitting on the ground next to Beatrice and me, began to change. I watched as the yarn unwound itself and rewound differently, writhing gently like a basket of snakes … And it wasn’t just the mittens.” Inspired by David Copperfield, Kingsolver crafts a 21st-century coming-of-age story set in America’s hard-pressed rural South. After that day, Auntie Marla continued to come by the house early each morning and stay long after my father came home from work, only returning to her own home after the nighttime dishes were done and the floors were swept and my mother and father were in bed. She cooked and managed and played with me during my mother’s endless afternoon lie-­downs. She ran the house, and only went to her job at the mechanic’s shop on Saturdays, though this made my father cross, as he had no idea what to do with me, or my mother, for a whole day by himself.

The messages, the metaphor behind the "dragoning", the layering of meaning and trauma would have been more impactful in a skillfully crafted short story. This has Margaret Atwood short story vibes and I wish I could have read that instead. Feminism, horror, dytopia, womanhood, motherhood... In longer form, the messages and meaning become repetitive, pounding you in the head, over and over, and I found myself saying I GET IT, OK? It's a magical realism version of Kate Chopin's The Awakening, with a particular focus on what trauma her children are left with after their mother chooses to abandon them. This is a story of women and the universe, and all the ways we lie to each other to try to cope with reality and unreality, and the hypocritical normalcy of the 1950s and early 1960s. Of puns and euphemisms and saying without saying. Of mothers and daughters and aunts and cousins and first loves and growing up and figuring shit out. Of first loves and first losses. Of not just breaking outside of societal conventions, but smashing them completely and making something new. Of grief and joy and everything that comes in between. Of turning perceived weakness into impenetrable strength. At every moment we are told exactly what to feel, "show not tell" is not considered in this novel. There is a lot of repetition early on in particular that becomes tedious to read, especially when Alex is trying to convince herself of her mother and father's lies. While I believe it was attempting to convey the level of indoctrination of society's refusal to admit dragons exist, the assertions felt out of place. Similarly, the links to real life (e.g. segregation, silencing of climate scientists, homophobic and transphobic laws) are so blunt that Barnhill is really hitting us over the head to make sure we don't miss them. A little more nuance and subtlety with the ideas would have improved the reading experience greatly. It is also a lovely metaphor for the ties that bind us to our lives we have chosen, and also the ties that hold us down. No one will tell her why her mother disappears for months, and her unmarried Aunt Marla moves in to take care of the family. Or why her father disappears into his work, sometimes not returning home at night.In the first adult novel by the New York Times bestselling author of The Ogress and The Orphans, Alex Green is a young girl in a world much like ours, except for its most seminal event: the Mass Dragoning of 1955, when hundreds of thousands of ordinary wives and mothers sprouted wings, scales, and talons; left a trail of fiery destruction in their path; and took to the skies. Was it their choice? What will become of those left behind? Why did Alex’s beloved aunt Marla transform but her mother did not? Alex doesn’t know. It’s taboo to speak of. This was a brilliant book to read, at times I admit it did get a bit far-fetched, but it still kept up the flow and feel of the story. I think at times I actually forgot some of the characters were dragons!

When Women Were Dragons is a fierce, unapologetically feminist, novel that I read (almost in it’s entirety) in one sitting. Despite knowing essentially nothing about it apart from the fact I loved the cover, the blurb was intriguing, and Dragons I am so very glad this book exists.The main story follows Alex (not Alexandra, to be clear), a young girl who one day sees an old lady become a dragon. No one talks about, no one is allowed to report on it, but there is a phenomena where women transform into dragons, in particular the Mass Dragoning of 1955 where 300,000 women transformed, flying away and even punishing the men who hurt them in the process. But this isn’t a one time thing, it keeps happening but it’s just not talked about, the people left behind without lovers, mothers, sisters and so on, the girls feeling the urge to fly away, the girls feeling chained down … and throughout Alex’s journey, and her role as a daughter, a sister, a student and a partner, you follow her find her freedom her own way. I guess the best way to describe When Women Were Dragons for me is that it was an unexpected pleasure - I loved the cover and liked the idea behind it (a historical event that verges on magical, causing a mass social change and the impact it had on society). Set in 1950's small town America for the most part, our protagonist is Alex who (like her mother before her) loves mathematics and can't see why that's an issue for a girl. In a society where options for women are severely limited, another way forward emerges - a mass Dragoning, women and girls literally shedding their skins and becoming something Other, often with disastrous effect for those who had provoked or caused that change by their behaviour. I didn’t see the little old lady again after that. No one mentioned her. It was as though she never existed. I tried to ask, but I didn’t have enough information to even form a question. I looked to the adults in my life to provide reason or reassurance, but found none. Only silence. The little old lady was gone. I saw something that I couldn’t understand. There was no space to mention it. Well, that’s my cue,” my father said. “Be a good girl, Alexandra.” He extended the sharp point of his chin. “Marla,” he nodded at my aunt. “Make sure she lies down,” he added. He didn’t say anything to the stranger. My mother, I mean. He didn’t say anything to my mother. Maybe we were all strangers now.