Hunters is dying in the Polish hills - animals getting revenge? Dat’s what totally not nutso old laydee Janina thinks!
This was my first and last time reading anything by award-winning (was the award for Giantest Poop Published That Year?) Polish writer Olga Tokarczuk - Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead’s premise kinda sounds like a supernatural murder mystery but it’s not. It’s basically just a screwball old lady muttering her disapproval of hunters and hunting in general while wittering on about the poetry of William Blake and astrology.
I feel like Tokarczuk can’t be so stupid that she doesn’t understand hunting isn’t some black and white moral question - that hunters are one-dimensionally evil, sadistic, macho, bloodthirsty thugs - so I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt that she writes them that way because her first person narrator is so unhinged.
Because hunting is a much more complex issue. Especially if you’re a meat eater - which 95%+ of Western society are - then you can’t complain about someone going out to get their own meat through skill and the tradition of hunting, rather than simply buying it conveniently processed and packaged from the shop. And it’s healthier to get your meat that way too! Alright I’m putting away the soapbox…
Even without the politics, this is a really crummy novel. The feeble plot inches along at a glacial pace while we have to sit through Janina’s tedious day-to-day activities: monologuing on and on about sodding Jupiter in Venus’ house and Sagittarius doing something with Gemini and who gives a fuck! What utter drivel astrology is. Then she’s with her boring hippy friends wanking over Blake’s poetry until all the reveals get crammed into the finale, none of which was satisfying or that interesting.
Don’t bother with this overrated rubbish - Drive Your Plow Over the Crap That Is This Novel!
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