In the aftermath of the Supreme Court’s 2022 decision to overturn Roe -v- Wade, “Red Clocks” is a book that flies uncomfortably close to the truth of American abortion politics.

Based in the fictional fishing town of Newville, Oregon, author Leni Zumas centers her novel around four women dealing with the fall-out of what she calls the Personhood Amendment, granting rights of life, liberty and property to every embryo. This legislation means a ban on abortion and IVF due to embryos being unable to consent. These measures incorporate the Every Child Needs Two Act, a draconian measure that forbids adoption by single parents and rules against the disposal of unused embryos.

It is doubtful that Zumas will be the only contemporary novelist to take on the current political atmosphere around abortion rights, pro-choice legislation and U.S. politics. What I will attempt to investigate here is whether she is convincing in her interpretation of a potential future for women’s rights, and whether she manages through her four-person narrative structure to create believable female characters who represent the various issues of such a future.

Hailed as a ‘post-Atwood’ dystopian novel, a risky moniker to be handed down to any novelist, did author Leni Zumas manage to provide an equally terrifying dystopian future as Atwood envisions in “The Handmaid’s Tale?” Let’s find out.

‘Red Clocks’ Summary: Four Women. One Question: What is a Woman For?

Editorial Note: Major spoilers throughout much of this section.

The novel is set in a small Oregon fishing town, where the narratives of four female characters intersect throughout. All four women are struggling with various barriers caused by the new Personhood Amendment, grappling with issues around motherhood, identity and the freedom of choice.

Interestingly, the four main characters are referenced as “The Biographer,” “The Wife,” “The Daughter” and “The Mender.” This clever hook illustrates the ways in which women’s names or individuality have been removed.

First up is The Biographer, known as Ro, a single high school teacher who wishes to conceive a child on her own. She is also working on a biography of an obscure 19th-century female polar hydrologist and arctic explorer named Eivør Minervudottir, whom we are told had her research on pack ice published under a male acquaintance’s name. The explorer forms a sort of fifth narrative through the imaginary biography Ro is working on. Short passages of Ro’s writing on Minervudottir are peppered throughout the text.

Then we have ‘The Wife,’ Susan, a typically recognizable trope from feminist literature of the frustrated mother of two. She feels her marriage is crumbling around her.

‘The Daughter’ is Mattie, an adopted daughter of a loving family and one of Ro’s star pupils, who finds herself pregnant, turning to Ro for help.

Then we have ‘The Mender,’ Gin, the most enigmatic of the cast of characters. Gin is a gifted but strange forest-dwelling herbalist who lives on the outskirts of society. When she finds herself arrested and put on trial in what can easily be recognized as a modern-day witch hunt, she acts as a guide to bring the fates of the other three women together.

Zumas here cleverly builds on the growing unease within American politics around the topic of reproductive rights. In what felt like a somewhat overstretched and yet unexplained element of the story, Canada has “assisted” the U.S. government in their Amendment by erecting a figurative “Pink Wall” across the U.S.-Canada border, which means that they will capture any woman entering Canada for the suspected purpose of obtaining either an abortion or IVF treatment, and summarily return her to the US.

The four women at the centre of the story are struggling with the new laws in various ways.

Single highschool teacher Ro is desperately trying to conceive before the new law banning IVF is introduced. She has also been sitting on the adoption waiting list for the past three years, not a tempting proposition as a single woman. Her time is running out as both artificial insemination and single-parent adoption will become illegal. A reader may also notice the parallel between Ro’s name and the 1973 Roe -v- Wade case.

Gin lives in isolation close to the forest running along the outskirts of the small coastal Oregon town. She has a wide-ranging knowledge of common ailments and natural remedies, known to the inhabitants of the town of Newville. Some attend her home to receive care, bartering with goods in exchange for her services. She is seen as a local witch doctor, providing — among other services — STD treatments, fertility advice and abortion remedies. This element of the story felt a bit outdated situated within a future United States. Gin is subsequently accused of providing an abortion for the abused wife of a prominent community figure and therefore put on trial.

Mattie, a star high school student of Ro’s, who is applying to Oregon Math Academy, realizes that she has more troubles to worry about: her period is seven weeks late. Discovering her unwanted pregnancy, and not wishing to put a child up for adoption as she herself has been, she attempts to secure an illegal abortion. Visiting Gin, The Mender, she asks for a natural ‘abortifacient’ to aid her in this goal. She also attempts to travel to Canada, despite the Pink Wall, where abortion is still legal. However, she is thwarted in all of her attempts. It is her teacher Ro who eventually aids her, securing an illegal abortion for her in Portland, which is successful, and Mattie is unharmed. This plot point is bittersweet because Ro desperately wishes for a baby before it is too late yet helps Mattie to abort her own fetus, as is her choice.

Though unknown to Mattie, Gin is actually her biological mother, who gave her up for adoption as a pregnant teenager. Gin does not relay this revelation to Mattie when she visits her for an illegal abortion, and does not perform the procedure, as she is arrested prior. Interestingly, Gin does not refuse Mattie a termination of her pregnancy, but does give herself a little time to grapple with the ethics around the ending of a pregnancy from the child she created. In this way, she appears to represent the reality of the choice faced by women considering a termination, who are usually given a short space in which to consider their decision. Gin embodies here the ethical and moral considerations of abortion, with her thoughts around the recognition that the fetus is merely made up of “blood and minerals” whilst also acknowledging that she has a personal investment in this pregnancy and the outcome.

Finally Susan, the designated housewife of the story, while not directly affected by the bans as she is already married with children, is introduced as a struggling stay-at-home mother. Her story seems unrelated to the main premise of the novel: the struggle to conceive naturally or what to do when one has conceived unintentionally. We see Susan contemplate driving her car off a cliff due to her unhappiness around staying at home while missing her career as a lawyer, as her husband goes out to work. She changes her mind and instead plans to speak to him about marriage counselling. Eventually, Susan decides to leave her husband but faces stigma as a divorced woman with children. She worries about what will happen to her family, making an ominous suggestion that the Every Child Needs Two Act might impose future restrictions on the raising of children by single parents.

Though the women in “Red Clocks” have individual storylines, they come together through their reclamation of agency within a patriarchal society that has criminalized abortion and restricted the rights of women. Mattie does get her illegal abortion, due to Ro driving her to a termination house in Portland, where she reads political posters thanking women for their activism and support of reproductive rights.

Gin is cleared of her charges, with Lola, the abused wife, taking back her testimony. Susan leaves her marriage, though worries about the future, and Ro continues to work on bringing Eivør’s story forward as it is revealed that she died on an Arctic expedition, with her crew leaving her body behind and a man taking the credit for her work.

The ending represents the continued struggle for women in the new reality, but also shows the interconnectedness of that struggle.

It would be tricky for Zumas to have given a neat resolution in the form of a redaction of the Personhood Amendment. A terrifying indictment of the truth that once such rights have been taken, it is difficult to restore them.

Books Like ‘Red Clocks’: The Dystopian Fiction of Margaret Atwood

Critics have made the obvious connections to the work of Margaret Atwood, claiming that Zumas evokes a modern day retelling of “The Handmaid’s Tale.” The book also represents a closeness with that of Atwood’s “The Robber Bride” in its portrayal of female connectedness and the chains that bind them in a patriarchal society. Readers have compared the book to the titles of Eileen Myles, who whilst not directly aligning with the dystopian genre, does question political realities within her work, and Octavia Butler, known for her fantastically dystopian science fiction novels featuring female characters.

Audience and Genre: Dystopian Feminist Literature With a Political Message

Whilst I would place “Red Clocks” within a distinctly dystopian, feminist genre, appealing primarily to female readers, I would say it would be of interest to a wider audience, struggling to understand the rhetoric around reproductive politics in the current political climate. Dystopian fiction fans will find an easily believable neat future within the realities of Zumas’ Oregon. She manages to achieve what many dystopian writers aim for in that the story does not feel entirely imagined.

Perspective: Four-Person Perspective, With a Possible Fifth

The narrative in “Red Clocks” is told from multiple first-person perspectives, moving between narrators as well as narrative styles, with even the book Ro is writing on the polar explorer forming another narrative. It is written in the past tense, with the structuring of the narrative allowing for an urgency for the characters. This jumping around structure, as well as the experimental styles of some of Zumas’ narratives, makes the book feel a little fragmented.

Although it is clear that the author wished to portray several different perspectives on the Personhood Amendment — showing how such a law could affect different women — it felt at times that Zumas, who teaches on the MFA program at Portland State University, was more involved in creating a lyrical, experimental novel, than delivering a deeply considered plotline.

Three Cs: Compelling, Clear, Concise

Editorial Note: We believe these three factors are important for evaluating general writing quality across every aspect of the book. Before you get into further analysis, here’s a quick breakdown to clarify how we’re using these words:

• Compelling: Does the author consistently write in a way that would make most readers emotionally invested in the book’s content?
• Clear: Are most sentences and parts of the book easy enough to read and understand?
• Concise: Are there sections or many sentences that could be cut? Does the book have pacing problems?

Compelling: Overused Tropes and an Unnecessary Character Limit Emotional Impact

Although readers will care about the characters, some are more one-dimensional than others. In Zumas’ efforts to give us representations of various problematic examples, she lost something of a specific central character or narrator.

Of the four (or five if you include the polar explorer), Ro appears to be at the forefront from the start, and she perhaps embodies something of a central protagonist. I would have liked her to have told the story centrally, rather than the sometimes fragmentary chapters in changing points of view.

Susan is a character that feels like an unnecessary narrator in this story, and a little one-dimensional, as well as a stereotype of other feminist literature. The frustrations of a housewife and mother in fiction is not something new. For her to be included, there needed to be more to her story. This is resolved somewhat by the ending suggesting that Susan’s separation and the increasingly draconian laws may lead to difficulties in the future for women who are raising children of divorce alone.

‘The Mender,’ Gin, although necessary for the plotline and featuring as the ‘witch’, a mythic woman who provides herbal remedies and lives out in the forest, also felt a little like an overused trope.

Clear: Strong Language Choices

Zumas is clearly a proficient and poetic writer. Her language use in the book is oftentimes a little too languid and meandering, and her intention to shock is clear. Some critics have noted that sections of the book were off-putting in the visceral descriptions of women’s bodies. Some readers may consider the lyrical sentence overwritten, if they prefer a simpler, less descriptive prose.

As the narrative is formed around the characterization much more than the plot, and though there were no specific plot holes, it did feel that much information was thrown in without a specific explanation. For example, why did the Canadian government agree to the Pink Wall? It sometimes felt that in Zumas’ wish to create a believable, not-so-difficult-to-conceive future in the U.S., she used an arsenal of shock tactics without always specifically following up on these.

Concise: Too Many Narrators

As mentioned previously, the four/five-person perspectives were, at times, a bit excessive. The book could have benefited from cutting this content to maybe three women’s stories. Ro also appeared to be an ideal and interesting character to lead the story. The part that some readers may struggle with mostly, however, is the interruptions from the polar explorer. These disruptions felt unnecessary. Though this element clearly shows that, for women, having their voices heard in a patriarchal society has been an ongoing battle, the scenes slowed down the narrative and halted the more immediate prose preceding them.

Character Development: Character Over Plot, Yet Some Characters Are Poorly-Developed

“Red Clocks” is far more driven by characterization than by plot. One of the main themes of the book is the bond shared between women and women’s choices, particularly in the matters of marriage and motherhood, or the alternatives.

Ro is perhaps the most captivating of the characters, essentially suffering the hardships of failing fertility in her desperate attempt to become pregnant via IVF before the full Every Child Needs Two Act comes into force. We see her attend the IVF appointments, where the consultant involved in her care appears unsympathetic to the great emotional cost to Ro. She appears alone and lost, working on her passion project of the polar explorer’s biography. It appears of the utmost importance to her to get this book written and published. Her narrative is interesting and asks many questions around women’s right to conceive and the right to choose a life alone, without a male partner. The interruption of the biographer’s story through Ro’s research however felt intrusive. More could be written of Ro’s life and story, and this was an element that would have been interesting to follow.

The inclusion of Eivør Minervudottir appears to be as a fictional representation of life for earlier women under patriarchy. We discover that Eivør was married against her will at the age of nineteen, was made a widow just eighteen months later, and then cast out by her mother because she failed to produce a child during the short marriage. There is a general sense throughout the book that women’s bodies are relevant only based on their ability to produce children and care for them.

Gin felt a little overwritten, with constant reminders to the reader of her calling to live close to the land and the ways in which she uses herbs and speaks to animals. It was clear that Zumas was indicating to her readers that Gin resembled a modern-day witch, living out her life in isolation, but for the modern setting this felt a little jarring. Despite this, she is an interesting character in her own right, never intending to cause harm and wishing to help other women. She perhaps acts as the moral guidance within the novel, with her connections to nature and her apprehension at the choices laid out for Mattie.

Susan, the frustrated housewife, felt like something of an over-used trope. A former lawyer struggling with the role allotted to her of staying home with her children felt a little overdone, which was a pity since this is a character I am sure many women could associate with. She just felt a little too stereotyped.

There is also a risk within these types of novels that the male characters may become similarly stereotyped as useless cyphers for the patriarchy. To some extent, Zumas’ novel unfortunately falls within this trope. Lola’s husband is abusive, Susan’s husband does not wish to see how his marriage is unravelling and that his wife is struggling, Mattie’s boyfriend is uncaring toward her and even Ro’s consultant has no sympathy for his patient.

The dialogue of the book is astonishingly accomplished. The four women’s fury and powerlessness is resoundingly felt throughout the story, whether through Ro’s pleas to be seen by her uncaring consultant or Susan’s belligerent husband, who appears entirely unaware of the unhappiness of his wife and his unravelling marriage. It is clear to see that Zumas is a good writer from this aspect, even if some of her more lyrical or visceral prose is unappreciated by some readers.

An interesting perspective of the book is the way in which women react or relate to the changes of their own bodies when placed under such draconian, restrictive measures. As is the case in society at large, women are required to be aware of their biological clocks in respect to their choices around becoming a mother. Within a dystopian tale such as this, the ‘clocks’ element reaches something of a crescendo. Women are no longer able to make choices based on their own preferences around the inevitable ticking clock of biology, but must instead mold their life choices around the demands of the state.

Story: Characters and Ideas Over Plot, But a Satisfactory Ending

As stated, the story is far more driven by characterization, exploring both the inner lives of the women and the bonds between women generally, rather than a substantial plot. The plot on its own comes down to some fairly prescriptive binary choices for the women, with the stark reality of what living in this kind of society would entail.

The book is engaging and Zumas’ general sense of immediacy through her narration moves the story along at a fair pace, though the interruptions of changing narratives can sometimes act to slow this effect down.

The author’s employment of visceral language, though off-putting for some readers, will enhance the reality of the women’s existence for others. It did feel unique to Zumas, as did the plot, in part. The Act and the laws that follow felt realistic. It was easy to see how she had developed this story from the existing political climate. However, it does feel that there have been and are still appearing similar books along this topic, and it remains to be seen if “Red Clocks” will retain its uniqueness amid the competition.

Spoiler Alert

The ending of the novel felt somewhat predictable, though not wholly disagreeable. Susan has managed to free herself of an unhappy marriage, though the future is worrying. Ro is managing to bring the biography to fruition. Mattie is able to return to her life without an unwanted pregnancy, as well as Gin being cleared of her charges.

There is the obvious overarching feeling that a happy ending cannot be guaranteed as long as these laws remain apparent, with the suspicion that more will be likely in future. However, the way that Zumas has intertwined the narratives gives a slight hope in the recognition that women can and have worked together to oppose such difficulties.

Prose Style: Visceral, Poetic and Lyrical

The author shows rather than tells pretty well throughout the narrative, allowing for visual representations in particular within the polar explorer and the mender’s narratives. Gin lives close to nature and recognizes all that it brings to human lives.

Zumas writes in an original way. Although feminist texts often utilize metaphor and poetic imagery to portray the links between nature and women’s bodies, Zumas takes this technique to another level with some of her use of metaphor and description. Some readers will love this lyrical imagery; others may find it a little too much.

She does weave the stories of all four/five women together well, showing their interconnectedness. As stated, however, the story may have benefited from the use of three main narrators maximum, to allow the story to flow and not become too long. Nevertheless, Zumas retains an emotional intimacy with her female characters. She also develops the nuance of each woman’s personality well, with each retaining a distinct voice, and this does help to lend a wider perspective on the effects of this kind of society on women.

Setting: A Small Fishing Town and the Natural World

The settings revolve mainly around the homes and workplaces of the women narrators, set in a small fishing town in Oregon. We see the women at home, such as Susan’s suburban life, and Ro at home and in the classroom where she works, along with Mattie. We also see Mattie’s home life.

The exception to this setting is of course the explorer, whom we see through Ro’s book.

We also get some descriptions of nature through Gin’s experience of living in the forest on the outskirts of the town. Gin’s sections perhaps include some of the best naturally lyrical writing by Zumas, as Gin very much associates with the natural world.

Rhetoric: A Pro-Abortion, Feminist Political Agenda

Zumas is clearly expressing her political beliefs and sending a message through this book, which is a feminist interpretation of the consequences for women under such laws. The story acts as a warning of what may be to come if U.S. politics continues to overturn rulings such as Roe -v- Wade. There is no attempt to cover this intention by Zumas, and the characters exemplify the struggles many have with the new laws. It did seem that the use of ‘Ro’ as one of the central characters (short for Roberta) could have been used as a significant nod toward the ‘Roe’ -v- Wade decision.

Zumas effectively uses language and structure within the winding narratives of the women to influence the understanding that this society is bad news for women. Her goal is clearly to point out the dangers in the current political situation and the actions we may need to take to prevent such a future becoming a reality. At times, this goal can come over as a heavy influence over the text, though it is relevant to the plot and to the women’s realities, and clearly key to the whole dystopian genre.

Cultural and Political Significance: Roe v. Wade and a Lack of Diversity

This feels a timely point to review and to read a book such as “Red Clocks,” given the US Supreme Court ruling to overturn Roe v. Wade in 2022. The setting chosen by Zumas feels contemporary, despite its dystopian setting, and the book picks up on the current political climate. As the women in “Red Clocks” navigate their world, the roadblocks and stigmas they face give readers some sense of how a country without the reproductive freedom afforded by Roe might look.

The novel effectively puts to the test the issue of pro-rights v. pro-choice, the issue of the unborn fetus versus the choice of the pregnant mother. It would clearly resonate more with the pro-choice movement, though it may also act as a perspective worth considering for people who have the opposing political standpoint.

It has been noted that the book does only feature cisgender, white, middle-class women. A secondary character named Yasmine is briefly mentioned, highlighting the racial disparities within the new laws. However, this lack of diversity is a bit of a disappointing element within a book examining the effects of new laws on women’s reproductive lives.

Critiquing the Critics: Lyrical Praise From Critics, More Well-Rounded Analysis From Readers

Many critical reviews on platforms such as The Guardian show a tendency to highly praise the book for its lyrical aesthetics and for Zumas’ brave examination of U.S. politics. Consumer reviews on sites such as Amazon and platforms such as Goodreads show a more diverse range of reviews. Some find the language and extensively lyrical prose offputting and the lack of story disappointing, whilst appreciating the premise of the novel.

It appears that most reviewers appreciate the necessity of a book such as “Red Clocks,” but some were disappointed in its execution, rather than disagreeing with the theme.

Book Aesthetic: Appropriate Focus on Women’s Anatomy

The cover of “Red Clocks” has, as would be expected, a blood-red cover. Rather than anything resembling clocks, it has an illustrated image of women’s anatomy. This image is cleverly used in a book that pushes the issue of the ownership over women’s bodies and, in particular, a woman’s uterus. The writing aesthetics of the cover is used to good effect in that it gives the look and feel of a dystopian fiction.

Reviewer’s Personal Opinion: An Interesting Take on Reproductive Rights Through a Feminist Lens

“Red Clocks” is an interesting and visceral novel within the dystopian fiction genre. As a feminist woman, I have a keen interest in the unfolding political landscape regarding reproductive rights and the disturbing rhetoric of recent years. For me, the world in which Zumas sets her story is all too possible.

Zumas’ choice of setting, within an Oregon fishing town, felt like a good start. She does not position the story in some unrealistic realm, neither is the book set in a distant future. It is set in a near-future with a familiar domestic setting. Other than the mender, Gin, and the polar explorer, the women feel familiar, like people I would know. Their predicaments are age-old, faced by generations of women. Who gets to control the reproductive choices of women?

I did find the structure, moving between so many narrators, a little jarring, and would have preferred to focus on two to three women maximum. This is a personal preference throughout my reading, however, and I can appreciate Zumas’ choice here, as the multiple narrators allow us to see how these new didactic laws play out for various women’s situations. Whilst the fractured structure employed by Zumas became a little much at times, it is easy to see why she chose this method: it allows us to see the potential effects of such legislation on the realities of different women’s lives. It is a little baffling to me why she chose, with so many women’s narratives, to only feature cisgender white women, and this is disappointing.

Although the Susan character is someone I would personally more associate with, I found that she was not as interesting as perhaps I expected, and it took me some time to figure out why she was included. However, on further consideration, I can see that she represents another viewpoint of motherhood, as her life intersects with the other women. Many women will be able to position themselves as Susan. Ro and Mattie are presently feeling the full force of the new Personhood Act, but it is insinuated that it is only a matter of time before these will also impact mothers like Susan. When one woman’s reproductive rights are taken, so are the rights of the many.

I admire Zumas for tackling such a big theme, especially with the understandable comparisons to the work of such fiction heavyweight as Margaret Atwood. Her book felt original to me, as I have not read another like it, although I am aware that there are dystopian feminist fiction titles appearing all the time which are likely to cover similar ground, such is the groundswell of opinion on reproductive rights.

Overall I would definitely say the book had a strong concept, with some interesting narrators and some lyrical prose, which at times was a little overwhelming. It set up an intriguing set of circumstances, but didn’t entirely deliver on plot, and the ending for most of the characters felt a little predictable.

‘Red Clocks’: Thought-Provoking But a Little Fractured

The book feels originally in Zumas’ choice to drive home the single point of the legislation from multiple female voices. The issue of who controls the activity of the female uterus, and if the control is given to anyone other than the person with the uterus, then that means they are denied true liberty. In the end, the women featured in the book are all in the same position: beginning with a polar explorer who does not wish to conceive, to a mother who is frustrated by the role, a single woman who desperately wishes to become a mother, and a teenager who desperately does not, as well as herbalist who is potentially punished for helping other women.

Within Zumas’ created world, not so far from our own, the government has declared that women are not to be trusted to govern their own bodies.

I have given “Red Clocks” 3.5 stars as I feel Zumas has some good ideas and some interesting characters, but the fractured narratives and heavy, lyrical prose reduced my rating. Whilst I enjoy a character rather than plot-driven novel, I felt that the ruptured narratives and lack of a central protagonist fell short.

Buying and Rental Options

E-Commerce Text and Audio Purchases

• Amazon
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• World of Books

E-Commerce Audio Only

• Audible

Physical Location Purchase and Rental Options

“Red Clocks” is widely available from online retailers and can be found in most larger bookstores and some smaller independents, particularly feminist bookstores. In larger stores, it is likely to be found on the Dystopian Fiction shelves or Feminist sections. It is frequently shelved beside books such as Naomi Alderman’s “The Power.” The book is also likely to be found in public libraries and on apps such as Libby, though there is likely to be a wait for the audio version.