i want to start this review off with a (long, but important) disclaimer and a note.

(1) i try to meet books where they're at. that is, for the most part, i do my best not to project my own expectations onto stories that never claimed to try and meet them (unless i believe the subject matter is in and of itself harmful and left unchecked—in which case i reserve the right to be rude). a gentle tyranny came across my goodreads feed with a nice review, the description piqued my interest, and it was listed under teens & ya on netgalley. i picked it up believing it would be a secular book, and if i'd been aware that it wasn't (this isn't explicitly stated anywhere, although it's implied at the very end of the acknowledgments), i wouldn't have requested it. i made a mistake in not googling the publisher beforehand. so, in an effort to be fair, i want to make it clear i am proceeding through a lens that is likely antithetical to the spirit of this novel. the reason for this is that a gentle tyranny is—as far as i can tell—a commentary on sociopolitical realities that i can't, and won't, separate from my own ideological beliefs.

(2) at the end of the book, the author states that fifty percent of the proceeds from a gentle tyranny will be funneled into her own fund, which will then distribute them to various charities, including (although i'm not sure if it's limited to): the a21 campaign, national center on sexual exploitation, and fight the new drug. the a21 campaign was founded by christine and nick caine, who are closely involved with the notoriously homophobic hillsong church; the national center on sexual exploitation's former president asserted that advancing gay rights leads to "the decline of morality ... that is the underlying cause of our modern day epidemic of mass murders"; and fight the new drug's fortify program has a stunning cast of characters on its clinical advisory board, including jason carroll, a byu professor who filed an amicus brief arguing against gay marriage in utah and whose recent publications include such gems as "the fall of fertility: how same-sex marriage will further declining birthrates in the united states"! as an incredibly proud lesbian, i was both startled and horrified by this; if you're also lgbtq, or care about lgbtq people at all, but want to read a gentle tyranny, i'd recommend you pick it up from the library or something.

so, all that aside, let me get into the actual book (which, i'd just like to say, has a really gorgeous cover!).

a gentle tyranny is the story of reina pierce, granddaughter of the eighth matriarch of nedé—a utopian society hidden in the jungles of central america controlled exclusively by women. here, male children are turned into docile manual laborers called "Gentles," lest they fall prey to their genetic impurities and become "Brutes"—like those who brutalized women in the pre-nedé world.

this is certainly not badly written. i think the prose has potential; it's just kind of... amateur. i know this is the author's debut book. i just feel like there was so much room to create a really lush setting—i wanted something replete with imagery, something vivid, but instead what's there is pretty bland. unfortunately, i also didn't really get along with any of the characters. i found them, for the most part, wooden and one-dimensional, and the relationships between them involve a lot of telling but not a lot of showing. tre, for example, is one of reina's dearest friends, but they don't actually spend any significant time together on the page—not what you'd expect from the synopsis—so most of their friendship is just reina telling us over and over that he's just the greatest. i personally enjoyed trinidad and reina's friendship the most (although its development is also mostly "off-screen.")

i never quite connected with reina as a protagonist. in the beginning i found her annoying and inconsistent, especially with regards to her relationship with her mother, whom she resents because of—ironically—a whole heap of internalized misogyny. i understand that she's supposed to be fierce, brave, selfless; i got a mere taste of those qualities when i wanted a whole mouthful. i also think a part of the reason why i wasn't totally into reina has to do with the way this story is structured: the entire first half is dedicated to reina and her fellow matriarch-candidates going to various places and learning various lessons about those places, and i was so irritated by the second half—when things actually start to happen—that i couldn't appreciate any character development anyway.

i think that my primary problem is that i don't, and probably never will, get along with any narrative that is premised on an uncomplicated role-reversal of structural power; especially gender, because too often you end up with something unimaginative and trite with little in the way of material analysis of what power really is. i guess i knew this going in but hoped to be pleasantly surprised. i was not. what i want from dystopian fiction—what actually makes it thrilling, gives it its bite—is some semblance of plausibility. i don't want to spoil things, but the way the patriarchal apocalypse necessitating nedé's creation came about is... outlandish and silly. the big reveal(s) overturn this book into the territory of a manifesto for moral panic; i actually rolled my eyes multiple times, and found the real-world references (you'll know it when you see it) both corny and inappropriate.

the world-building is, as a whole, weak—definitely the weakest aspect of this, because it's wholly nonsensical: from the story of nedé's conception, to the ridiculous science and poor use of scientific terminology (there is literal anti-vaccination rhetoric in this, which is hilarious to me because there is also a host of evidence suggesting a lack of knowledge as to what a vaccine even is?), to the absolute refusal to discuss transgender or lgbtq people at all let alone well, to the failed attempt to address race (illustrating a fundamental misunderstanding of what race is or how it works; it's not just about skin color) while simultaneously excising central american people from the narrative entirely (don't give the setting any merit on this front; you will be disappointed), to the "destinies" straight out of divergent/the hunger games/any other 2009 dystopian ya, to the fact that the whole story missed the mark because it refuses to interrogate or even mildly engage with any actual theories of gender and gender relations.

that last point is important, because, here's the crux of the issue: a gentle tyranny tries so, so hard to put together a cogent critique of women's suffering under patriarchy... and fails. miserably. the second half of the book renders every single one of its own efforts incoherent. you're left wondering: so what is the point, actually? what is this even trying to say? what am i supposed to gain from this? reina's encounter with the Brutes actually left me speechless because it not only reproduces and glorifies patriarchy—perhaps without intending to—but also makes it extraordinarily obvious that this book is unable to operationalize patriarchy in even the most basic terms. the story eats itself and becomes this loose, amorphous treatise on how, like, power is bad and stuff, i guess, and also horses are cool. (i did like the horses). (but there's this one line: "She mounts the horse's fifteen-hand height as if it were a pony in a petting pen." fifteen hands is actually barely taller than a pony).

i'm not trying to rip into this book senselessly. there were parts i did enjoy! i liked the whole competition aspect, and i also liked that this isn't a super gory or gratuitously violent book (although there is, obviously, some violence). but i won't pretend i wasn't deeply frustrated and disillusioned by it, or that i believe it achieves what it presumably set out to achieve. 1 star.

*arc provided by netgalley and publisher in exchange for an honest review!

This was a very interesting dystopia. Normally, in dystopias, our protagonist is actively resisting the government, they're part of a rebel group. Think Legend, The Hunger Games, or Divergent. In A Gentle Tyranny, Reina is much more passive, and while that helped the story in some regards, it also harmed it.

Blurb
In a society run by women, built off the backs of men, Reina is approaching her 18th birthday. Soon to pick her career, but unsure what to pick, she is tapped by her grandmother to become the next Matriarch. Before this elevation, her world was black and white. Men must be gentled in order to be safe, and women are superior. As she sees more of Nede though, her beliefs are challenged.

Like I said earlier, Reina is a very passive protagonist. She has her beliefs, but she definitely isn't out in the world changing things. I did enjoy this take, because it felt different. I loved how she wasn't fiery, and thought through her decisions. I loved that her entire goal was to become the Matriarch, and institute change through that avenue. Writing a protagonist who is passive is difficult though, because the story can very quickly become boring. In some ways, that is what A Gentle Tyranny suffered from.

Simply put, not enough happened. Countless pages of this book are devoted to building a lush and complex world, and while I loved that, only so much worldbuilding is necessary. We're treated to Reina learning and discovering herself, but not much happens. Up until the 50% mark, she hadn't had much significant character development. Once we hit 50%, I was much more interested in the book, but it just took a little too long.

The one thing that did absolutely no wrong in this was the setting. As someone who has recently traveled to Belize, the country that inspired the setting, I could picture every scene perfectly in my head. Jess Corban excelled at writing a setting that complimented her story, and I loved the descriptions that accompanied it. From the bright clothing, to the native wildlife, this felt lush and extravagant, while also feeling natural and warm.

Although this is nowhere near the branch of dystopian that I usually read, I really enjoyed it! It's definitely a thought provoking read, which is always something I look for.

Thanks to Jess Corban and Netgalley for providing a free copy in exchange for an honest review!

A Gentle Tyranny is a complex book--it addresses questions difficult questions like equality, power, corruption, and abuse. While one could read it for just the story, you would be missing the whole purpose of the book. As the mother of a daughter and a son, this book gave me a lot to think about.

I suspect that regardless of where you stand on the issues addressed in the book, you will find something that you like and something that you profoundly disagree with. I don't want to go into too much depth, but I do want to provide a warning that this book deals with difficult subjects, including sexual abuse against women. The beginning of the book was hard, as was some information revealed later in the book.

As for the writing, I thought that the build up to the main story was a tad slow. This made more sense when I realized that some of the issues in the book would not be fully resolved. I suspect that there will be a book 2, which I would definitely read.

Finally, I loved the setting in Central America--great addition to the book!

Thank you publishers and netgalley for the free E-Arc in exchange for my honest review.

An interesting take on a dystopian novel but with an unclear message.

“A Gentle Tyranny” takes a page out of M Night Shyamalan’s playbook as it seeks to rebuild a society secluded from the rest of the world where reality is what the elders make it and anyone who gets too close to fingering out the truth that lies just outside the walls must be dealt with accordingly.

Trigger warning as I was not prepared the book starts with a discussion on violence against women and touches on topics or rape, trafficking and pedophilia so if that is a sensitive topic to you please enter at your own risk.

The set up of this book is that men have abandoned any sense of self control and surrendered themselves to lust and abuse leaving a coalition of women to start a new order to protect themselves and as the generations progress the methods become more harsh and uncaring towards the males born into this matriarchal society. The construct of finding a new leader was interesting I suppose but I don’t think it accomplished what it was meant to as a lot of what we learned we are able to piece together a handful of chapters in.

I’m not sure what the point of the novel is if I’m being honest. One one hand it almost is an attempt to show that having one gender lead is always going to be problematic which is fair but to preface that with this gutting take on abuse at the moment in time where the decision to start over is made makes it difficult to fault the women overall. Yes it is a correction to the far opposite side of the moral pendulum but when staring in the face of true cruelty it’s hard to judge that choice even more so when we meet the others in the jungle who flat out say that to be a Brute is a choice that shouldn’t be taken away.

I’m very unsure about this one and not enough that I think that the sequel could help my feelings toward it as a whole but it’s a pretty strong question mark overall as I sit here and try to collect my thoughts.

**special thanks to the publishers and netgalley for providing an arc in exchange for a fair and honest review**

I decided to give this book a chance and I am so glad I did. It was a really interesting book where I was sucked in immediatley. The characters were very interesting and I could really feel there emotions which made the book better. The author did a really good job with the plot line and character development.