Femlandia by Christina Dalcher was an interesting novel. The concept was so unique, but it also felt almost outlandish at times, so suspension of disbelief was sometimes necessary while reading. I loved both Miranda and Emma, and their relationship especially. Seeing the similarities and differences between Miranda and Win's relationship and Miranda and Emma was so interesting. There is lots of intrigue throughout this novel, but the reveals felt a bit anticlimactic. That being said, I did enjoy this novel.

It was an interesting, quirky read, but unfortunately not particularly memorable for me as a reader.

As a devoted fan of the dystopian subgenre, I am always excited to see what Christina Dalcher is going to do next. In 2018’s Vox, women quite literally no longer have a voice; 2020’s Master Class brought on a study in eugenics; and now we have Femlandia, which delves into a non-patriarchal society. Known for pushing the envelope and writing novels that both entertain and cause readers to ponder “what if,” Dalcher’s stories are never ordinary.

In Femlandia, the United States has suffered total economic collapse, and some attribute this crisis solely to the actions of men. These feminists have created and are thriving in female only colonies called Femlandia. Femlandia are female occupied, female led, and men are strictly forbidden.

Miranda Reynolds is the daughter of Femlandia’s founder, Win Somers. But Miranda could not be more different from her men-hating mother. Miranda traveled the more traditional route, living life as a “kept woman” until her husband died by suicide, leaving her to care for their sixteen year old daughter alone while the world falls down around them.

As a last resort, Miranda and daughter Emma make the trek to Femlandia, but what they find there may just be more terrifying than anything lurking on the outside. Determined to uncover the colony’s secrets, Miranda risks it all to learn the truth of how Femlandia sustains itself as a female-only world.

The premises of Dalcher’s books are always quite intriguing and thought-provoking. Would our world be able to thrive without men? Can women do any and everything that men can do, or do men and women work together to balance out each other’s weaknesses and strengths? How does a society without men reproduce and carry on? These are all issues raised within the pages of Femlandia, which provides the reader much to ponder and consider.

As is the case with all of Dalcher’s books, I wish she would add more details to her novels and stay away from letting the plots drive her stories. I was really into Femlandia at the beginning as Dalcher developed this world on the brink of collapse, but once Miranda and Emma reach the colony, Dalcher’s world-building falls to the wayside in favor of plot. She didn’t give me much to hold onto as a reader, and I had difficulty visualizing this strange, self-sustaining world where men don’t exist. I feel that a strong focus on and connection with the characters adds a lot to a dystopian novel because it is so easy to forget all of the things that make us human when the world falls away.

This was a very unique novel- one that I never really read something like this before. Thought provoking and intriguing! Thank you to NetGalley and the Publisher for an ARC.

Disturbingly thought provoking.

While it was gripping and well worth reading, I felt the ending was a bit rushed, and the epilogue betrayed my hope in an anti-patriarchal society.

Not my type of book but I really enjoyed it. Everything is in trouble as banks are closed, jobs are gone and there is little to food. Miranda must provide for her 16 year old daughter, Emma. They make the journey to Femlandia, which was started by Miranda's mother. Femlandia was a community for women only. She and Emma arrive and it is similar to a cult. There are rules and regulations about anything and everything. No males allowed no matter the age. A very thought provoking story.

Dystopian novels are something I always find myself gravitating towards and I feel as if that genre hasn't been as popular as it used to be which saddens me as it's one of my favorites. This was a well needed read, it was dark and even brutal to read at times due to what was occurring, but it was truly fantastic, just what I needed in dystopian.

Oooohhhhhmyyyyyy this book frustrated me to no end... but in the best of ways.

Such a twisted turn of events - over and over and over I found myself screaming at the pages, feverishly turning until I found out what would happen. Cursing when what I wanted to happen, didn't.

The world is in the midst of an economic collapse and people have lost their jobs, their homes, and now - they are losing their lives. Looting and rioting begins to intensify and for Miranda and her daughter - there is no where that is safe. So they reluctantly begin the journey to Femlandia - the women's only 'utopia' compound founded on the feminist principles by her estranged mother - where men are not allowed. The women there have been surviving the worlds demise and thriving - but also, somehow... babies are being born? And somehow... all the babies just happen to be girls?

Are the secrets and foundations Femlandia is built on safe for Miranda and Emma, or could they be more dangerous behind the walls than the horrors outside? What will they have to sacrifice for their safety? And do they really NEED men?

This ones got all the triggers and all the horrific and disturbing scenarios you could imagine. It may not be for everyone, but I thought it was bloody, shocking, and frustratingly fun.

Christina Dalcher once again turns her keen, incisive eye on the patriarchy in FEMLANDIA, an alternate-future story about a world where women rule.

Just as they did in 1929, the United States has once again fallen into a Great Depression, though if you ask 41-year-old Miranda Reynolds, there’s nothing so “great” about it. For years, Miranda and her husband, Nick, lived as members of the elite, with Nick chasing startup ventures and monitoring investments, securing their family a gorgeous home, luxury cars and a lifestyle full of privilege. But that all changed when economic turmoil began in Asia, the European Union fell apart, and three of America’s largest states declared Chapter 9 bankruptcy. The president refused to intervene, citing “the spirit of the American people” as a failsafe against total destruction.

Now the country has collapsed, with streets full of looting, robbing and killing, and groceries and utilities at an all-time high. Miranda and her 16-year-old daughter, Emma, are left to fend for themselves after Nick conveniently throws himself off a mountain rather than face the repercussions of his bad money management. With the bank coming for their home, food and water becoming scarce, and a fetus fluttering in her stomach, Miranda and Emma leave home in search of refuge: Femlandia.

Established decades earlier by Miranda’s mother, feminist Win Somers, Femlandia is a collective of off-grid colonies run and populated by women, entirely self-sufficient from the rest of the United States, particularly its male citizens. There was no love lost between Miranda and her mother, a difficult, opinionated woman who reacted to the news of her pregnancy by saying, “Tell me you’re getting rid of it. Please tell me that much.” Not exactly mother-of-the-year material, yet Win was able to cultivate an eager and thriving following, one that has kept the women of Femlandia safe and secure during the country’s economic collapse. But Win is no longer in charge; her protégé and replacement daughter, Jen Jones, is now calling the shots, and she and Miranda have their own rivalry to contend with.

Following a brutal journey full of starvation, blisters and a thwarted sexual assault, Miranda and Emma arrive at Femlandia to find a true utopia. Tan-line-free women (or “womyn” as Win would prefer) wear gauzy kaftans and walk around free from the male gaze, and from violence and assault. Once a collection of shoddy cabins, Femlandia has become a garden-covered village of rustic but charming homes and a one-for-all-and-all-for-one mentality when it comes to work, food and community. (If you’re getting cult vibes, you’re on the right track.)

If Femlandia is to be believed, a world without men is a world without worry. Even though Nick was one of the good ones until he wasn’t, even Miranda cannot deny that a good chunk of the world’s problems were caused, exacerbated and prolonged by, well, men. But there are also notable red flags: Femlandia’s “women” label applies only to natural-born women, not transgender women, and “men,” even if they are babies or sick or injured children, have no place at the commune.

Having been raised by its founder, Miranda is already on the lookout for the dark side of Femlandia and her mother’s vision: one that stripped her of her beloved father, neglected and abused her as a teen, and would encourage her to abort her unborn child for bearing the wrong chromosome. But in a world on the brink of total collapse, is it worth giving up a bit of freedom for the chance at safety and survival? As her daughter becomes more and more taken by Jen Jones and Femlandia’s mission, Miranda starts to wonder if their utopian refuge is in fact the most dangerous place for them to be.

Dalcher once again pushes the envelope by exploring a common, progressive ideal --- in this case, feminism --- and turning it on its head and into a dystopia. What makes her books so riveting and thought-provoking is her ability to question every step forward and ask “but what if?” It is clear that Dalcher is a feminist herself, but I love her willingness to explore the dark side of every good thing and to shine the light on the darkest corners of every step forward. Her brain is full of keen insights and downright chilling twists.

I never open one of Dalcher’s books unless I know I have all night to read it, and FEMLANDIA was no different. It builds upon the ideas already explored in her debut novel, VOX, so if you’ve read it, the final twist may not come as a total surprise, but it sure will haunt you. Miranda and Win are some of Dalcher’s best characters since Dr. Jean McClellan, and I love her take on the power plays of mother-daughter relationships and competitions.

Perfect for readers of Chandler Baker's THE HUSBANDS, Lisa Lutz's THE SWALLOWS, and Dalcher’s VOX and MASTER CLASS, FEMLANDIA is a chilling, evocative read perfect for this time of year.

FEMLANDIA is the third book I have read by Dalcher and to say she has mastered the feminist dystopian novel would be an understatement. This book has the suspense, the darkness, and the character bonds all packaged up in a smartly written and slightly disturbing package. FEMLANDIA, like those before it, will make you think just as much as it will captivate.

The premise was interesting -- a community of only women where they be self-sufficient and teach herstory instead of history. But it didn't work for me. The characters came off as stereotypes and I was unable to warm to any of the characters and there were just too many unbelievable or unexplained elements. It seemed more like a first draft that needed to be fleshed out into a full novel.

There was a lot of potential here and the story felt lopsided in the sense that the things I wanted to know more about were kept vague and the things I wanted to know less about were thoroughly detailed. That being said, I still rate this release 5 stars. Christina Dalcher gives readers feminist dystopias unlike any other writers.

A pleasant gender-based dystopian fiction.

This is a familiar drama some ways ordinary yet the reader will read to the end to get confirmation on whether they have guessed correctly to what was foreshadowed in the storyline.

I liked the emphasis on the mother/daughter relationships.

As soon as I heard the premise of Christina Dalcher's Femlandia, I knew I wanted to read it. This book was compelling and I was very invested, but I have mixed feelings about it. Femlandiai surprise me just how horrifying and dystopian the feminist utopia turned out to be. Nothing about this book is subtle or nuanced. Dalcher creates a horrifying dystopian society where American government has collapsed and anarchy reigns. Miranda is a pregnant newly widowed mom struggling to find a safe place in the world for her, the baby on the way, and her 16-year-old daughter. Miranda and her family were wealthy and privileged, and now they have nothing. At wit's end, she turns to Femlandia, the feminist ideal her estranged mother established years before the apocalypse officially arrived.

Subtle, this book is not. I think my biggest problem with the book was that the characters were so often caricatures rather than people.

All in all, this is a solid dystopian read with eerie parallels to our own world.

Here's the thing: The Gate to Women's Country by Sheri S. Tepper is the absolute gold standard for books about all-female societies. Dalcher's latest has something to add to the genre, but frankly I'm not sure that a book will ever be written that measures up.

One issue that seems to always crop up in books of this type is the somewhat obvious: "What do we do with the men?" and its corollary: "How do we procreate?" It is this question that frequently drives the narrative tension in the book, as the main character first uncovers the big secret and then wrestles with her own morality over what to do about it.

Femlandia follows in this mold, although Dalcher throws in a few twists of her own, making this a novel both about female-only societies and one about cults. Miranda Reynolds, like Dr. Jean McLelland of Dalcher's debut novel, Vox, is a woman who takes immediate (and possibly reckless) action as soon as she's decided which is the right path. This rush to action creates an unevenly paced narrative, as things move along at a nice dramtic pace for the first 3/4 of the book, and then the action in the last quarter plummets off a cliff. Although I give Dalcher a lot of credit for pulling up the reins for a well-done epilogue.

I liked this book a lot, but I didn't love it, and I wanted to love it. The beginning chapters are enthralling, imagining the DC suburbs post-societal collapse. (I used to live there; I knew the streets the author mentioned.) But in the colony, it felt like the author was bending over backwards (in the form of the protagonist) to make the case that men aren't that bad, and women are worse. Sometimes we really don't need someone to "both sides" it.

Not my favorite Christina Dalcher book. The premise sounded really intriguing but I couldn't connect with the main character, which isn't a necessity in a book for me but it did make it hard to stay engaged with the story. I will continue to read Dalcher's books as I've enjoyed her previous two works, Vox and Master Class very much.

Femlandia by Christina Dalcher is a science fiction dystopian fantasy novel. Some have this one tagged as horror and while I wouldn’t say it’s really horror I would warn that some content is horrific in this dystopian world which leads to a trigger warning of abuse and assault. Femlandia is set in an alternate near future world when society has broken down and it’s chaos everywhere.

Miranda Reynolds’s mother was an extreme feminist and is known around the world for starting colonies known as Femlandia. These are meant as a safe space for abused women where they live in self sustaining isolation from the rest of the world around them.

Miranda never agreed with her mother’s idea of the world and was living her own life with her husband and daughter away from her mother’s ideal society. However, after losing her husband at the time that the world started breaking down Miranda was left to defend herself and her daughter and decided to take her daughter to Femlandia for protection.

Christina Dalcher is an author that I was already familiar with after reading her novel, Vox, which was compared to Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale. I actually enjoyed that dystopian read more than I had Atwood’s so seeing Femlandia I was certainly curious yet again. The story in Femlandia is yet again not for the squeamish but it did keep me engaged as I wondered how everything would work out in this one which a few twists along the way.

I received an advance copy from the publisher via NetGalley.

this book was...not for me.

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i've already written far too many words in my little reviewing journal trying to figure out <i>why</i> i didn't love it, and now i've missed pub date, so you tell me.

review still coming, but—need more time.

okay, here we go:

i wasn't crazy about this one, and i’ve been trying to figure out <i>why</i> for about a month now.

quickplot: an economic collapse causes chaos across the USA, and the ensuing violence, looting, and food insecurity forces miranda—a pregnant, newly-widowed, formerly wealthy mother of a sixteen-year-old girl to seek shelter in the nearest femlandia—one of a number of self-sufficient female-only compounds her famous-feminist mother win somers established across the country. (<i>"Self-sufficiency...Or I guess we could call it 'self-sufficienSHE.'"</i> GROAN)

before her mother's death, miranda had been estranged from her for many years, #notafan of the great win somers' beliefs, methods, or showboating public persona. miranda married young and lived very comfortably for twenty years, until circumstances (i.e. world goes boom) led her to beg for entry from femlandia co-founder jennifer jones—the woman who slipped into the daughter-shaped void miranda left in her mother's life.

behind the walls of femlandia, womyn are free from the scrutiny of the male gaze, from abusive husbands, from the aggressions and microaggressions of men:

<blockquote>It isn't only the loose kaftans and colorful fabrics that mark them as different from the women I'm accustomed to; it isn't anything they have or wear at all, but rather what they don't have. An absence. I don't think I ever realized until now how uptight we city women are—or were—how we constantly, incessantly protect ourselves by keeping our heads bent down at our phones or by examining an imagined hangnail, our subconsciouses expecting danger lurking around every corner. We make ourselves look older and uglier than we are, as if youth and beauty were attributes to be hidden away from the world. These women don't have any of these tics, because what these women don't have is fear. And being fearless, they must possess a sense of freedom most of us have never known.</blockquote>

cut off from the rest of the world, they have been thriving on their own for years, so this little societal collapse is just another day in the life for them.

however, femlandia is not so much a feminist utopia as it is a misandrist cult, and miranda starts uncovering some of the grubby little secrets at the heart of her mother's creation (like how these women are still getting pregnant, and having babies and how all of these babies are female), while her daughter emma embraces the community's highly problematic philosophy with full teenage fervor.

but, like a teenager's devotion, this book is all surface with very little depth or substance.

it’s a little loose at its joints—it feels like dalcher wanted to write about A and B and C, and she focused on writing the loud shocking parts without spending any time developing the quiet connective tissue that would make this whole situation feel...considered.

the trans issue is a pretty good example. the femlandia leadership has a very staunch policy when it comes to transfolk—if you have, or have ever had, a penis attached to your body, you are unwelcome:

<blockquote>"They can identify as a fucking hedgehog for all I care. I'm talking about what they are. Not what they think they are or what they want to be. It's a slippery slope. You let one in, you have to let in all. There is a reason your mother called this place Femlandia. Get used to it."</blockquote>

part of the femlandia vetting process involves a physical examination, with an explanation:

<blockquote>"I need to satisfy myself that you were always a woman."</blockquote>

which, hey—your compound, your rules, but since there is no mention of trans men or nonbinary/genderqueer people anywhere in the book, it feels like dalcher just didn't want to have to bother with the complexities of gender identity, and dispensed with the matter, shutting it down in one short paragraph.

and that gruff dismissal of an entire segment of the population is indicative of how this book deals with any kind of nuance—it doesn't. it ignores the complex and favors the reductive—a colorblocked philosophy without any shading.

my problems with this book aren't ideological—i don't read books to see my beliefs mirrored, nor do i read books to have my beliefs challenged. i'm willing to roll along wherever the author chooses to have their characters take me, but at the end of it all, i want there to have been a purpose for the journey—not necessarily a <i>lesson</i> or a <i>stance</i>, but give me something to digest at the end of it; even something as writing 101 as setting or character growth or conflict resolution.

my issues with this book are storytelling issues.

as far as the community is concerned, we get very few details about the logistics or political structure or How It All Works. we see some of the punishments for disobedience—in fact, miranda's month-long solitary confinement means we don't get a lot of first-impression insights or any perspective about how this colony functions—she immediately (on day five, after being in a medically-induced coma for three days) becomes peripheral to the action; locked in a room reading books while emma is being turned against her and radicalized—with no clarity about how her daughter came to be so quickly indoctrinated into this "all men are terrible" weltanschauung.

miranda is a wildly inconsistent character and very slow on the uptake. come on, miranda, you work in a zoo and you don't know what coyotes sound like? (and the reveal of that particular plot point was obvious from the first mention, but it was dragged out so long, like dalcher thought we were brand-new and wouldn't immediately clock what was going on there.)

it's such a contrast to [book:Matrix|57185348], which squeezes the theme of a female-centric cooperative of every last narrative drop. and obviously that's a different situation, a different mission statement, a different writer, but it's a very good example of a story written by someone who is willing to Do the Work—to think beyond the barebones "i have an idea!" stage and actually flesh it out with meat for a reader to chew on. [book:Matrix|57185348] took the idea of a gated community of women and showed all the angles—the good, the bad, all of the unconsidered subtleties.

by comparison, this is so shallow and brief. i'm not sure what point she was trying to make. ladies can be shitty, too? what's the story? why is this book?

i liked the beginning of this very much—the tipping-point momentum of society breaking down, the shortages, the danger, the situational morality, miranda's friends, having resented her cushy life, turning their backs on her, along with every religious or social institution she approaches for help.

<blockquote>You want to know how people end up homeless, how anyone could turn away or shut a door or hang up a phone? Just start asking for help.</blockquote>

but it doesn't <i>give</i> anything to the reader, other than a hollow misanthropic clang. men are shitty. women are shitty. people are shitty. we know. we've been here.

Remember 2008 when the economy collapsed and everyone was wondering what to do. What if there were no interventions to keep the economy afloat? What if the banks failed, the cities ran out of money to pay fire and police, or anybody for that matter. What if it all fell apart? Femlandia imagines just that scenario. Miranda Reynolds was a comfortable wife and mother before her husband permanently checked out after losing all their money in the crash. She and her daughter are hanging on by a thread, but the rising danger of looters and gangs make hiding in their home no longer an option.

Miranda knows her estranged mother founded a commune for women called Femlandia and in absolute desperation goes there to see safety. This is real desperation because her mother disapproves of her traditional choices and has always favored her protege, Jen Jones, who is what Win Somers wishes Miranda were like. Win is retired from leadership and Jen Jones has spread Femlandia into multiple colonies. Femlandia is a safe haven where no men are allowed. So how come so many women are pregnant and why are all the babies girls?



I liked Femlandia at the beginning, but found it difficult to finish. I didn’t like Miranda very much whose survival strategy seemed to be going from her husband taking care of her to finding someone else to take care of her. And yes, society is falling apart so everyone needs to find safety, but I would have liked to see someone trying to organize the neighborhood self-defense and gardening committee rather than hiding indoors. I wanted more gumption.

This is another in the utopia gone bad tradition but there has never been a successful utopia. People have withdrawn from society. John the Baptist was part of an apocalyptic sect. They aren’t new. I suppose this is a good antidote to the “if only women ran the world” fantasy that somehow we would be less corrupt, less incompetent, and less warlike. Has anyone had absolute power and not misused it?



I received an e-galley of Femlandia from the publisher through NetGalley

Femlandia at Berkley | Penguin Random House
Christina Dalcher author site