This earliest work of Margaret Atwood's hard to describe. At times lacking the polish of her more recent works, while at others brilliantly skewering the social norms of the 1960's, the overall effect is terribly earnest. Granted, I am also reading this in 2010, and I was not around prior to the women's lib movement, so I feel like there is some sense of context that I may never be able to fully appreciate, no matter what I know about the era, and this context is imperative to "The Edible Woman."
All in all, the book is savagely witty, but it also made me wish I could have read it in 1969.
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