A really intresting concept, that a young man with severe retardation can be medically made into a genius. As always, science overreaches itself, although there is no moralizing about the dangers of tampering with nature or god's work. Plenty of good fodder about identity and different kinds of intelligence and the right of retardates (as the book calls them in its marvelously archaic way) to be treated like real people. Plot starts to drag in the middle but otherwise a marvelous read.
There's very little meat on this bone; Doyle rabbits on for 22 pages before giving the first example of the problem he's meant to be examining. DNF at page 45 (but perused the epilogue) because it's so damned boring, recounting the Salem witch trials and telling us what others have said about cancel culture rather than actually building a convincing argument. (I don't disagree with the premise that knee-jerk social activism is problematic but fuck, present some facts already!)
Given that the author was ostensibly the trucker convoy's spokesman, I was expecting behind-the-scenes stuff, but no. Dichter swanned off in the first week before returning and breaking his leg so he doesn't seem to have been privy to much. The funniest bit is him claiming that other people were trying to do his job. The bulk of the text is about why Trudeau sucks and regurgitating what was said in the media. The book does appear to have been proofread tho and its not full of typos.
I liked the premise and message of this (i.e. fame is not as important as making people happy) and Megabat is a rather endearing character but the “bat language” really grated at me, especially the use of ‘kwirls' in the text like it was a real word.
Thank you to Tundra Books who kindly sent me a copy for review.
Fuuuck. I was not expecting that. I got this from the library because of the hype and I don't often do audiobooks because my brain doesn't seem to retain information delivered aurally but I'm glad I heard this in the author's voice. It's harrowing to hear what she went through; it's laid out in such a basic way, without caveats or excuses, that the trauma is obvious but never devolves into self-pity.