Wow, I’m not sure what I was excepting from this book but it ended up being way more than I could ever imagine. It was a heavy read full of deep, dark topics but at the same time, I flew through it. This is one I’ll be thinking about for a long time.

The Red Word follows our protagonist Karen Huls and opens 14 years after her fateful sophomore year. We see her university days as a flashback, brought on by the death of her college housemate, Stephanie McNamara. The majority of the story is set in her time at university during the mid-Nineties. The few sections set in 2010 are just enough to highlight how these events have shaped her as a person.

As a photographer, Karen finds comfort behind the lenses of her camera, in observing the world around her. It plays into her role as the all-seeing narrator type figure. Also, I wouldn’t say she’s the most active of characters. Most of the time she’s she is forced into the action because of the feuding side. On one hand she is the girlfriend of GBC brothers and on other, she is housemate to a group of radical feminists, but both help to make up her identity. Having Karen stuck between these opposing camps helps to showcase all sides of the debate revolving around rape and consent.

What enchanted me the most about this novel was how much the subject matter of Karen’s Women and Myth class spills into the telling of the story. In particular how much the narrative reflects Homer and The Iliad. Throughout the novel, the two are described in relation to one another. Brimming underneath the surface everyday campus life is a war. A war held between the Women Studies students—who are demanding a change to the culture surrounding fraternities—and the brothers of GBC—who don’t see their partying ways or how they treat women as an issue.

Sprinkled throughout are phrases that mimic the opening of Homer’s Odyssey. Line such as, “O soulwithered Stephanie, keeper of all our sorrows.” It's almost as though Karen is describing their fate, one, which we watch, unfold throughout the year.

Henstra’s writing style is stunning and I was hooked from the very first line. There’s lyrical tone, one adopted from the Greek classics. This lyricism is paired with the blunt edge of the violence of her descriptions. At times it was hard to read because she never did shy away from depicting sexual assault. I found her use of mythic metaphors quite powerful. It served to highlight that people haven’t changed much between the days of antiquity to now.

Henstra portrays a raw and unflinching look at university life. Drug use, excessive drinking, sex and rape is all through interspersed with discussions of feminist theory and myth. I adored this novel and I’m sure there is so much I missed. I will absolutely be re-reading this for years to come.

Sarah Henstra’s The Red Word pulsates with the tangible feel of a truly undergraduate experience – in many ways, my experience anyway. From the scraping of coins together for packets of Ramen noodles to the dogged debates in the library over Starbucks on the merits of feminist ideology and the next paper due. All of the key players are present here: the “butch” ultra-feminist, the foreigner, the erudite professor whom all the smart girls look up to and yearn to be like, the frat boys, the rich kids, the students holding down part-time jobs and the free-spirited girls who make kissy-faces at taxi drivers then call them assholes and walk away; they’re all here. If you lived this undergraduate experience, you’ll feel at home here, wrapped in a Snuggie of, yeah, “nostalgia.” You’ll understand the references and won’t be shocked at how often the words “smoke” or “condom” or “rights” come up.

The above quote is a fantastic summation of this novel in all the best ways. The Red Word is about a year in the lives a group of undergraduate students, and the catastrophes they catalyzed, exacerbated and lived within their “superoxygenated atmosphere of attention and information and privilege and power.” At the center of this story is Karen, a Canadian student on an American Ivy League campus her sophomore year. When Karen moves into “Raghurst,” a student house where a group of lesbian radical feminists live, and simultaneously starts dating a frat boy from GBC (better known as “Gang Bang Central” on campus), it is the spark that ignites the subsequent events; she is straddling a dangerous line between two houses who go to war over women’s rights versus patriarchal “brotherhood” – a war of the greater society as a whole. It’s about their year of learning, of trauma, of sexual exploration and viewing the world around them through their stanch lens of feminism.

“Frat boys like to share. You have to watch your back.”

Far beyond just being an ode to campus life, The Red Wordexplores the crevices of rape culture on college campuses and in society as a whole. It reaches into the nooks and crannies of words like “consent” and “consensual” and shows it all to us through the eyes of a group of young women so far from home, so close and yet so far from finding themselves. Sarah Henstra’s debut is intelligently done, intellectual, and very often witty. This novel puts the reader right in the midst of the Crog-wearing, Iliad-quoting erudites of a women-centric viewpoint, right in the middle of the bloom of self-awareness. (They’d hate me for saying that, wouldn’t they?)

It did tend toward the melodrama in areas, but doesn’t the college experience itself? Toward the end I was thinking, If I see one more melodramatic, theatrical proclamation, I’ll scream. (Oh Dyann, how you would splinter the spears and batter the bright shields! Stay, oh stay with me.) And yet, the subject matter here was so worthy of exploration. Frat culture and pack mentalities. The ethics of “victim blaming” – if a girl goes into a frat party and gets herself drunk, does she deserve to be gang raped? (view spoiler) The politics of single parenthood for the woman – is she weak for “succumbing” to her circumstances, being “trampled by patriarchy,” for letting her parents pull her out of school, for embarking on single-parenthood of an unwanted baby? Or, is there another worthy argument at play here as well? You be the judge.

The Red Word was a fantastic debut novel from Henstra, which I would highly recommend to anyone, particularly college-aged females. If there was ever a novel to sit around and discuss ad nauseam, it’s this one. It raised brave questions and turned the typical “college trajectory into adulthood” story on its head. There was nothing predictable about this novel. And I thought that was for the best – because, is there ever really anything predictable about college or our life experiences after it? I think not. Henstra and The Red Word earned a strong 4 stars from the start and held them throughout. ****

Complicated, powerful and intelligent look at rape culture and feminism in our country today. Hard to read yet beautifully written through the eyes of college sophomore Karen who falls in with a feminist group and is also dating a fraternity guy so she is kind of in the middle of both worlds. Definitely worth reading as it is a novel that will be on my mind for quite sometime--so much to think about the misogyny of women in the Greek (fraternity) system contrasting with the growing feminist movement on college campuses today. Don't miss this one! Would be great for a book club discussion.

The Red Word is a look at rape (the red word) culture but not just on college campuses as the blurbs would suggest. The novel is complex, thought-provoking, and timely. Henstra interweaves a story where Karen, the main character, is looking back at her sophomore year of college in the mid-90s at some unnamed ivy league institution with classic mythological themes and Karen's present-day life. Henstra has an engaging way with words that kept me from putting the book down.

The catalyst for Karen to start remembering college is the death of one of her former roommates, and the story that unfolds from that year is nothing short of a classical Greek tragedy.
The juxtaposition of Karen balancing four separate identities, one with her four lesbian, hyper-feminist, off-campus roommates and their time engaged in their women's studies class; one with her fraternity brother boyfriend, Mike; one she leads with her fantasy guy, Bruce; and finally the Candian out of place having to work for her tuition surrounded by a rich/entitled (her view) circle of friends is an interesting and thought-provoking way to present the discussion of rape culture and feminism in American society. As Karen is seemingly living a life she seems to understand, her roommates are hatching and carrying out a plot to bring down the fraternity she spends so much time at without her knowledge that ends in disaster, which causes the reader to examine the worst of fraternity life, rape culture, and the problems that arise when ideology is pushed too far.

The only thing that kept me from giving this more stars was the lackluster development of Karen as an adult. Rather than having her going through a few motions, such as a brief conference presentation, a stop at Steph's wake, and a conversation with a second former roommate, nothing much happens.

I would recommend this to a plethora of different readers-and thank NetGalley and the publisher/author for the opportunity to read this eARC in exchange for an honest review.

To be quite honest this novel was very upsetting. I could not believe that an important issue like rape could be dealt with in such a way, and how it might be possible to strike both feminism and sex in a negative light in this novel. I was disappointed with the author's handling of what is a very current and important issue. Would avoid at all costs.

TW Graphic sex, assault, excessive drink and drugs, suicide attempts, violence towards women.

A powerful book focusing on a college student’s foray into feminism, women studies, college campus rape culture and the dangerous world of fraternities, and violence against women.

This is a heavy but powerful, important read that only makes the reader think and feel a lot of things bu definitely brings up topics of conversation regarding the issue of victim blaming, slut shaming, and issues of consent.

This book made me feel a lot of things and I really loved seeing Karen wade her way through the world of feminism and women studies while also keeping a grasp on the ‘basic girl’ college experience by dating a frat boy, and going to their parties but as ‘one of the untouchables.’

I loved how this book explored Karen’s two sides and how she was able to weave through these two worlds, though not without any problems.

There are definitely a lot of uncomfortable scenes in this book from sex scenes, assault and also times when Karen ends up slut shaming and victim blame without even realising to. It’s frustrating as a reader to see all the times she stays silent when she could speak out and help a potential victim.

This book is set in 1995, though there are scenes set in present day (which I found a little bit unnecessary most of the time), but it could easily be thought as set right now because the women are suffering from the exact same issues as we are today from slut shaming, harassment, male empowerment and female belittlement. And it’s f-ing infuriating.

I was a huge fan of the thing going on between Karen and Bruce. There was something so openly raw and sensual about their bathroom meetings, and they were made even more chemistry-laden considering they never once kissed. I didn’t blame Karen for a moment about her attraction to Bruce, as honestly I felt it too. And I love how this arc explored that confusing line between Karen loving Bruce but also being aware of the things he partook in as a frat member.

A lot of the things that Dyann, Charla, Steph and MJ took part in were obviously pretty problematic, and definitely were on the extreme side of feminism, do I even dare to say the side of feminazi (a term I typically despise). But I think what happened was a great look at how advocating for change, and a desperation for change, can cause people to do the wrong things, and even illegal things. I’m not condoning their behaviour at all, and it really threw up the questions and the often fuzzy issue of consent.

Things went a little bats**t crazy for me at the end, and I was expecting something tragic but not that. I do think some stuff explored in this book border on the extreme side of things but I also know next to nothing about real college campus life in the US except for media portrayal, so who am I to judge?

This is a really timely book, and definitely one to read following the #MeToo, #TimesUp movements.

Karen starts out at an ivy league college as innocent as many of her classmates who have gone before her. But Karen gets caught up with a group of feminist students who let her move into their off-campus house called Raghurst. Without question, the new living experience changes Karen's life. Combined with a course in Dr. Esterhazy's "Women and Myth," course and a boyfriend at a notorious frat house, GBC (Gang Bang Central), Karen's experiences both academic and extracurricular make a novel for the ages. Karen's educational experience was in the nineties, but the narrative is her recollection in real time as she learns of the death of one of the housemates at Raghurst.

<b>The Red Word</b> builds slowly with Karen's experience at GBC with her boyfriend, Mike. It seemed strange to me that Karen didn't seem to like Mike very much and yet continued to see him, sleep with him, and go along with much that was happening at the fraternity. Karen also seemed to glide smoothly with her female housemates who were a mixed bag of militant feminists. The plot suddenly moves quickly into a scenario that is both intriguing as it is shocking. Karen's life changed, and I learned just how complicated the reality of rape culture becomes when people are willing to do anything to get a message sent from their side of the war.

Thank you to NetGalley and Grove Press, Black Cat for this ARC.

Publish date is March 13, 2018.

It’s been a very long time since I’ve read a novel this thought provoking.
I consider myself a feminist, so already I had an interest in many of the issues explored by this book; radical feminism, campus life, toxic masculinity, fraternities and sororities, rape culture and how we navigate through a time when discourse is so polarised.
This is a well-written campus novel, like no other I’ve read, and it’s left me questioning many of the things I believe. Fantastic.

An absolutely beautiful and stirring novel that I found hard to put down. Rarely does a book take feminism and rape culture so head on, turning it upside down, and taking you on a journey along the way. Karen, the narrator, is a fabulous character, one who will stay with me. Her point of view, the way she was both an outsider and an insider, and how she drove the story, was fascinating. I loved all the rich characters, and following a year in their ives at an ivy-league school. It is often hard to swallow, but worth every page and twist and turn.

This book explores rape culture, feminism, Helen of Troy and Greek mythology and it’s extremely interesting. This would be a good book for a book club discussion as there’s so many parts to this story and great discussion points. Contains a few difficult and disturbing scenes so be warned. But a good read, written very well and nicely researched.

This is one of the most nuanced and beautifully complex novels tackling gender politics that I have read. Artfully written, I felt like I was an unseen spectator of the events that unfolded as Karen begins to unpack layers of institutionalized sexism and misogyny.

The novel navigates between the present day and fifteen years in the past when the main character Karen was attending an Ivy League university in the 1990s. During her sophomore year, she moves into a new house with a group of feminists while at the same time embarking on a new relationship with a boy that has pledged at a frat house notorious for its subjugation and inbred misogyny of women. She tries to reconcile what her friends believe of the fraternity system as a whole with what she witnesses firsthand, with how she is treated versus how women as a whole are treated. After all, she is "blue" and therefore "off limits."

Consequence, and those at fault being actually held accountable for their actions, are themes that the four women struggle with while they try to navigate a world stacked against them and improve it for the benefit of all. Do the ends justify the means?

"Society sets up these rules and regulations to so-called protect women, but at the same time, everyone kind of expects a woman to be violated at any moment. If she gets raped, or killed, or beaten or whatever, then okay, a rule has been broken, but it's seen as kind of a natural order for that to happen because she's... permeable"

I found the "present" writing a bit choppy, and the navigation between timeframes at times was jarring to read. For me, I think the novel would have served better without the present day narration as it does not really enhance the story (and at times it detracts from it) - it merely sets up the story for remembering the past.

Solid 4.5 stars

I have closed my year by reading what ended up being one of my favourites!

The synopsis cites this a 'campus novel', which it is, that takes a look at rape culture, which it does. The reality of this book, however, is something that no brief synopsis or review of mine could ever accurately portray, so vast is the scope of the topics discoursed.

This is a complicated and twisty novel in all the best ways. The complex and intellectual narrative often felt like it meandered away from the actual bones of the plot and on to more theoretical discussions concerning gender stereotypes, and their conception, and the rape culture that this ultimately has created.

This is a novel heavily influenced, and centred around, academic learning and literary theory. The women's studies course that the characters are enrolled on forms much of their debates and shapes much of their thinking. Themes from their studies are also mirrored in the blatant misogyny of Greek life on a college campus. The scholarly debates were undoubtedly interesting but getting to see the school-room discussions adapted to a potentially real-life scenario added another level to what was already an overwhelmingly clever and brilliantly insightful novel.

Whilst the reader is informed on the subject matter a deceptively ingenious story-line is also delivered. Much of the narrative is formed in the mid-90s college campus but short segments intercede this from protagonist, Karen's, future and adult life. I first thought these a pointless addition but the ending cleverly demonstrates exactly why they were important. The events that occur impact each life and reverberate decades into the future, which the reader gets to view for themselves.

Whilst the denseness of this topic and the depths to which it was discoursed may appear too unwieldy for some readers I thought Henstra demonstrated a profound knowledge that coupled with a sophisticated writing style. It approached the subject matter with the sensitivity it deserved whilst also schooling the reader with a wealth of knowledge that had me note-taking as if this was a non-fiction philosophy and not a fictional account.

This is from an advance review copy for which I thank the publisher.

I wanted to like this novel and I began by doing so, for about forty percent of it, but then things changed and I really began to dislike it. By seventy-five percent the main character had become so profoundly stupid that I could not bear to read any more about her, so this review is of the first seventy-five percent.

The first problem was first person, or worst person voice as I call it because it's almost never the best choice. Some plots can support it. This one did not because the only thing it achieves here is to trivialize what is a serious problem: rape (aka, in this novel, the red word).

All that the choice of first person did here was to subjugate rape to the personal and often trivial and asinine peccadilloes of what turned out to be a clueless and ineffectual protagonist. Some writers can carry-off first person, but this writer did not. This failure cheapened the topic and did more far more harm than good. I can't forgive that when it's a topic as important as this.

The main character is a college student named Karen Huls. Karen is given certain attributes, but many of them seemed inappropriate and counter-productive to the story. First of all, she's a sophomore. The first part of that word comes (unsurprisingly) from the Greek and refers to wisdom. Karen displayed precious little of that, but on the other hand, the second part of that word comes from the Greek moros which pretty much means moron. That part I could see in her.

I don't mind a main character who starts out dumb and grows, but in this novel Karen showed no sign of ever wanting to leave dumb behind her, at least not up to the point where I quit reading in disgust. Dumb seemed to be her security blanket and she clung to it avidly. Middle-grade girls are more clued in than Karen was.

Karen is a photographer, but her photography played very little part in the story, so I'm not sure why she was tagged with this interest except that, once again, it played into the artsy pretension that was so heavy-handed in this novel that that it effectively trivialized the purported topic, rape. Rape is one of many symptoms of a privileged, patriarchal mindset, and the author did nothing to change this or to even fight against it. On the contrary. The Greek system was shown to be a jolly little institution notwithstanding the fatal flaws depicted here.

I thought there was a great potential to juxtapose the lofty ideals of the ancient Greeks (at least as far as academics goes) with the base culture of the rather more Spartan-like collegiate fraternity system, but there was none of this to be found. The academic discourses on mythology had little or nothing to do with events on campus and felt more like the author was just showing-off.

The problem was that, because of the way it was written, the story seemed designed to whitewash and even exonerate the Greek system and frat boy mentality at the expense of those who have been raped and those who would advocate for them, and I found that quite frankly as nauseating as it was inexcusable.

One oddity about this novel, and this comes from the academic pretension with which it's larded, is the use of Greek words to head each chapter. Given that we start from this ostensibly elevated perch, I found it incomprehensible that the boy's fraternity depicted here is repeatedly referred to as GBC, since that fails to represent the actual Greek. Perhaps had the author been a professor of Greek instead of a professor of English, she would have understood that the Greek is Gamma Beta Chi: ΓΒΧ so TBX would be closer to the name for pure appearance. GBK would be closer to the sound as long as we keep in mind that the K is produced at the back of the tongue, a little bit like clearing the throat. 'GBC' is therefore completely inaccurate, so I didn't get the point of this representation at all, except that it conveniently lends itself as an acronym for taking a cheap shot at the fraternity initials.

The novel deals with the so-called 'rape culture' in society, or in this case on campus at a college which supports fraternities and sororities. The story, for some reason, is set in the nineties rather than in the present day, and worse than this, it's all a flashback. I didn't get this either.

Normally the choice of first person seems to be made by authors in an effort to provide immediacy for those writers who are unable to evoke that in third person, but to choose first person and then remove it from any semblance of immediacy by not only setting this in the past, but also by throwing it under the bus of a book-long flashback was a startlingly ill-conceived approach. This method was a failure because it reduced what is a current and ongoing crisis to essentially nothing more than an historical footnote. That's entirely the wrong approach to take when it comes to the university (read universal) sexual assault crisis.

The story begins with Karen, who is pretty much an alcoholic. She wakes up lying on the ground after a night of binge-drinking, near a house occupied by some rather radical feminists, and Karen ends up rooming with them. Initially, these other students interested me far more than ever Karen did, but as the story went on, it became ever more clear that they were all really just placeholders - nothing more than 2-D cardboard stand-in characters, too shallow, caricatured and radical to be real.

I felt the portrayal of these students betrayed both feminism and those students in the real world who are struggling to expose the prevalence and casual attitude towards rape, sexual assault, and harassment across the country in colleges, universities and (particularly as we've seen lately) throughout society, in entertainment and in the very heart of Washington DC.

The whole hands-off tone of this novel is set right from the beginning in how it treats a girl (her name is Susannah) who has undergone a traumatic experience. It's not so much that this girl disappears from the story as it is that she was never really in it. She was just a name to be thrown out in conversation - another placeholder for something real, but which actually never materializes. For me, she was a metaphor for the whole novel.

Her dismissal sets the tone for the rest of this neglectful story's 'remote-viewing' of rape. Karen is supposed to be our proxy for exploring this, but the story is so obsessed with strutting its stuff regarding Greek mythology, and Karen is so very unmotivated, and tediously passive and clueless that the story goes nowhere near the raw exposed nerves of what it purports to address.

Karen is never an actor, she is the audience watching others act and failing to take home anything from their actions. If this had been written as a metaphor for the way many men all-too-often view women: as utilities and entertainment, then it might have made some sense, but that's not what happened here. What we got was indifferent writing which had the effect of rendering Karen into nothing more than a peeping tom, stealing glances at life's more seedy side-shows, and even then she does nothing with what she sees. She simply imbibes it mindlessly, and moves on, evidently not satiated, to the next spectacle.

Her placid acceptance of some quite horrific events which she witnesses, without making any effort to set things right or to report them to someone who can set things right, is shameful. Karen isn't part of the solution, she's part of the problem. Instead of despising the frat boys, she becomes an honorary member of fraternity, dating one of them, flirting foolishly with another whom she ogles and idolizes in ways which would be disgraceful had this same behavior been indulged in by a man towards a woman.

If Karen is anything, it's a hypocrite. She sees nothing wrong in any of the fraternity attitudes towards women, or with their drug abuse, since she indulges dangerously herself, or with their lackadaisical work ethic (or lack of any ethic), or with their endless drinking binges and demeaning, objectifying co-ed parties.

This is curious because when a woman is raped, Karen keeps nudging her to report it, but the woman feels she cannot since she was rufied, she remembers nothing of it. The hypocrisy comes in when Karen herself is assaulted twice, the second time badly, although much less than the other girl suffered, and yet despite her advocacy to the other girl, she does nothing about her own assault!

Instead, she just moves on once again, and thereby continues to be a part of the problem. The girl who was gang-raped was given the unfortunate name of Sheri Asselin. How the author could give a rape victim a name which incorporates 'ass' as in 'piece of ass' is a complete mystery. Was it supposed to be some sort of a joke? It wasn't funny.

One really bizarre thing is the author's blog. When I went there to take a look at it, I found it was protected - you cannot get into it unless you both register with Word Press and get the blog owner's permission to access it! I found this to be peculiar. Maybe she has good reasons for it, but if you're an author trying to promote your work, this seems like a completely ineffectual approach to take. That said, it is in keeping with the ineffectual tone of the novel.

So overall, I was really saddened by this novel, not because of what it depicted but because of where it kept failing. It could have been so much more than it was, and as it was, it wasn't anywhere near enough. Now you can argue, if you wish, that I didn't read it to the end and maybe everything turned around in that last 25%, but even if it did, for me it would have been far too little and far too late. Even if it had turned around, it still would not have made me like the main character, who never showed any sign of turning anything around, not even her head to look at what was actually going on right in her presence.

Both she and the novel were a big disappointment and I cannot recommend this as a worthy read. As a great alternative, I recommend viewing the documentary The Hunting Ground, which is available for free on Netflix, and probably in other locations. It's also available on disk. A good reference for help is End Rape on Campus.

A richly researched and haunting read from an author to follow.

I almost gave up on the very first page. The first paragraph was so pretentious that I was ready to put the book down. I have no idea why I kept going, I was so turned off the story that quickly I should have assumed that I would have hated the whole book. I kept reading. I read and read and read. I ended up loving the book. The author has great writing skill and can keep a story going, without giving into hysterics and drama to keep it moving forward. The writing varied from amazing, captivating, and enthralling to pretentious out of nowhere, why is this happening, and ick. The latter being the first paragraph and then randomly in scenes. Stick through those scenes, it is worth it and now that I have read the whole book it makes a lot of sense why it was written that way. 

I am not a fan of Greek mythology in the slightest, never have been. There is a bunch of references scattered throughout the book, but they are pretty easy to follow even for someone like me who isn't a fan. The more in depth questions that appear near the end of the book are much harder to figure out though. Do some research into Helen of Troy before you read if you are not familiar with her. That will save some headache!

The characters were all so intense and flat. It was pretty realistic to college from what I saw of it. The extremists hid their middle ground views to stay active, they felt like the world revolved around their campus, and they often made terrible mistakes (though this book takes that last part to huge lengths). I am conflicted on the view of rape in the book. It starts out very clear that rape is bad, but one character has the power to twist issues and make them so alienating that even I was starting to get unnerved by it. I was raped and there has never been a time in my life that I was pro-rape, but that one character made me want to dismiss what happened as harmless fun because she was such a zealot. It was scary how that worked. If the author intended that to help show that being an extremist can actually hurt the cause, then bravo it worked so well that I am scared. 

Give this book a try. I really recommend it.

Thanks to Grove Atlantic/NetGalley for the ARC.

The Red Word is a campus thriller which takes place at an elite school in the 1990s. The campus sections are interspersed with the present-day experiences of the narrator, Karen.

Karen is a Canadian student who falls in with two hugely different groups of students at the same time. She lives in a feminist collective named Raghurst, the inhabitants of which are largely devotees of a women's studies professor, Sylvia Esterhazy. At the same time, she's also dating a classmate who has pledged GBC, one of the school's best-known and sleaziest fraternities, the members of which are alleged to be responsible for all kinds of reprehensible behavior toward women.

Fed up with the culture on campus, the women of Raghurst start a radical campaign to ensure that the members of GBC will get what they deserve. Karen finds herself caught in the middle - put off by the way the men of GBC act toward other women, but also reluctant to partake in the radical activism that her housemates endorse.

One of the things I liked best about the book was how well Henstra captured the fun aspects of life at GBC, and why Greek life might be appealing. In doing so, she also demonstrates the issue with rape culture: some women are treated like sisters or friends, while others are objectified and manipulated. Nonetheless, the book would fall apart if the members of GBC were pure, unadulterated evil, and the reader sympathized exclusively with the campus feminists. It's a difficult course for the writer to chart, and Henstra does a great job.

Unfortunately, I found the book to fall short when depicting the other side of the equation: the women of Raghurst. As difficult as it is to make a reader sympathize with hard-partying fraternity brothers, it's equally challenging to draw a community of radical feminists, many of them queer, without making them seem strident or unappealing. I'm aware of the problematic nature of the word <i>strident</i>, and that's exactly why I chose it. The characters are so caught up in the service of their feminist ideals that they aren't particularly well-rounded, and when Karen professes her love and admiration for them, it falls flat. We don't see anything that really engenders her loyalty, especially to their ringleader, Dyann. Likewise, the professor Sylvia Esterhazy is fairly charmless and uninteresting, and little of what we see of her classes is particularly revolutionary, even taking into account the time period.

Part of my issue with this book is that it reminded me so much of The Secret History by Donna Tartt, which is an all-time favorite of mine. Many of the plot elements are similar: a fringe group on campus, led by a charismatic professor, welcomes (sort of) a new arrival, who gets caught up in their internal politics and troubling activities. Only Sylvia Esterhazy doesn't have Julian's mystique, and Henstra's campus seems far less of a fully-realized place than does Hampden College.

The other issue I have is that the present-day sections, which are few and far between, don't advance the plot or characters in any meaningful way. We learn about Karen's career, and what became of several of the main characters, but knowing those things doesn't enhance the narrative for the reader.

Overall, there were some elements of The Red Word that I enjoyed, and it will certainly provoke discussion. Depending on the age of the reader, it may also be instructive with regard to problems in campus culture, and it's interesting to consider what has changed and what has stayed the same since the time period in which the book is set.

I had a hard time getting into this book. The characters felt very stereotypical. Since I did not finish the book, I do not intend to publish a review.

I loved this book. Initially, I wasn’t sure of its appeal because I was rushing through it like women’s fiction which it is not. It’s the kind of book that demands all of your attention because it presents ideas alongside an engaging plot. Karen is a young Canadian attending an American university who gets an intimate look at fraternity life when she starts dating a member. She inadvertently finds herself amongst passionate feminists and becomes indoctrinated in their ideals. When an audacious prank goes wrong, Karen gets caught in the middle of it. Blurring the lines between right and wrong, this book will make you think about both parties - the victim and the victimizer. Clever and smart, this book is great for fans of Lauren Groff and Claire Messud.

Henstra's upcoming book deals with rape (The Red Word) on college campus. A frought subject, the author attempts to balance the scales by juxtaposing the world of a fraternity known for sexism and sexual assault with radical, sometimes violent feminism and attempts to humanize the rapist central to the narrative. For me, I find the people-are-wrong-on-both-sides approach to systemic violence against women to be infuriating and, therefore, I did not finish or appreciate this book.