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The Growing Season
Now anyone can have a baby.
With FullLife’s safe and affordable healthcare plan, why risk a natural birth?
Just choose the colour of your pouch and its accessories.
Without the pouch, Eva might not have been born. And yet she has sacrificed her career, and maybe even her relationship, campaigning against FullLife’s biotech baby pouches. Despite her efforts, everyone prefers a world where women are liberated from danger and constraint and all can share the joy of childbearing. Perhaps FullLife has helped transform society for the better? But just as Eva decides to accept this, she discovers that something strange is happening at FullLife.
Piotr hasn’t seen Eva in years. Not since their life together dissolved in tragedy. But Piotr’s a journalist who has also uncovered something sinister about FullLife. What drove him and Eva apart may just bring them back together, as they search for the truth behind FullLife’s closed doors, and face a truth of their own.
A beautiful story about family, loss and what our future might hold, The Growing Season is an original and powerful novel by a rising talent.
With FullLife’s safe and affordable healthcare plan, why risk a natural birth?
Just choose the colour of your pouch and its accessories.
Without the pouch, Eva might not have been born. And yet she has sacrificed her career, and maybe even her relationship, campaigning against FullLife’s biotech baby pouches. Despite her efforts, everyone prefers a world where women are liberated from danger and constraint and all can share the joy of childbearing. Perhaps FullLife has helped transform society for the better? But just as Eva decides to accept this, she discovers that something strange is happening at FullLife.
Piotr hasn’t seen Eva in years. Not since their life together dissolved in tragedy. But Piotr’s a journalist who has also uncovered something sinister about FullLife. What drove him and Eva apart may just bring them back together, as they search for the truth behind FullLife’s closed doors, and face a truth of their own.
A beautiful story about family, loss and what our future might hold, The Growing Season is an original and powerful novel by a rising talent.
320 pages, Kindle Edition
First published September 7, 2017
About the author
Helen Sedgwick
18 books74 followersHelen Sedgwick is the author of The Comet Seekers (Harvill Secker, 2016) and The Growing Season (Harvill Secker, 2017).
Helen has an MLitt in Creative Writing from Glasgow University and has won a Scottish Book Trust New Writers Award. Her debut novel has been published in seven countries including the UK, US and Canada, and was selected as one of the best books of 2016 by The Herald and Glamour. She is represented by Cathryn Summerhayes of Curtis Brown.
As a literary editor, Helen has worked as the managing director of Cargo Publishing and managing editor of Gutter, and she founded Wildland Literary Editors in 2012. Before that, Helen was a research physicist with a PhD in Physics from Edinburgh University.
Helen has an MLitt in Creative Writing from Glasgow University and has won a Scottish Book Trust New Writers Award. Her debut novel has been published in seven countries including the UK, US and Canada, and was selected as one of the best books of 2016 by The Herald and Glamour. She is represented by Cathryn Summerhayes of Curtis Brown.
As a literary editor, Helen has worked as the managing director of Cargo Publishing and managing editor of Gutter, and she founded Wildland Literary Editors in 2012. Before that, Helen was a research physicist with a PhD in Physics from Edinburgh University.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 88 reviews
September 11, 2017
The Growing Season is the second book I read by this wonderful but not so well know author. I loved them both and it is safe to say that I will try everything Helen Sedgwick decides to write. In case you are wondering what her first book is about, you can read my review here: The Comet Seekers
The Growing season is a psychological drama disguised as a mystery novel. In an alternative past (in the 60’ probably), an external pouch that can replace the woman’s womb is invented. Due to the discovery, people that previously could not have children can do so. Homosexual couples, women that could not hold a pregnancy, older people, can fulfill their dream to have a family. Also, the pouch allows equality in the parenting roles as it can be carried by both future parents. It can thus eliminate the inequalities between sexes. In addition, the technology is advertised as risk free without any baby deaths.
It seems like a dream come true for everyone. However, not all is well. From the invention of the pouch until present there is only one company who holds the patent, NHS is absorbed by this colossus, natural birth is discouraged and almost disappears. At the beginning, there were protests against the unnatural aspect of the birth but as the technology proved more and more popular and safe, the voices have died out. Then, something happens. The company starts to advertise a new program of natural birth. Two people realize that something is wrong, Eva, a former protester and Piotr, a journalist who is employed to cover the birth of the grand-grandson of first woman to give birth via the pouch. They soon realize that babies started to die and they team up to discover the truth.
The novel is fast pace and I kept turning the pages in order to find out how the plot progresses. However, plot is not the most important aspect in the novel. The author raises numerous questions regarding the effects of the artificial womb have on the people’s psychology and the society as whole. Has the pouch really helped to achieve equality between men and women? Can it be used to control women and makes the redundant? Is it ok for a company to control almost all human births?
The novel is like a beautiful collage. The author mingles pieces of the story, mixing past and present until everything is put together at the end. The beginning might be a bit confusing but everything will come together nicely. Sedgwick’s writing is flowing beautifully; it reaches the depths of my soul. She manages to make me care for the characters and their drama like few writers can. I can feel their loss, their suffering, happiness and anger liker they were mine.
I decided to give it only four stars because of two reasons. Firstly, the beginning was a bit confusing and the transition from one timeline to another was not always smooth. Secondly, there were some consequences of the pouch invention that were not discussed. For example, if there were no birth deaths the result could be a risk of overpopulation.
I thank Helen Sedgwick and Random House UK, Vintage Publishing for providing me with a copy in exchange for my honest review.
The Growing season is a psychological drama disguised as a mystery novel. In an alternative past (in the 60’ probably), an external pouch that can replace the woman’s womb is invented. Due to the discovery, people that previously could not have children can do so. Homosexual couples, women that could not hold a pregnancy, older people, can fulfill their dream to have a family. Also, the pouch allows equality in the parenting roles as it can be carried by both future parents. It can thus eliminate the inequalities between sexes. In addition, the technology is advertised as risk free without any baby deaths.
It seems like a dream come true for everyone. However, not all is well. From the invention of the pouch until present there is only one company who holds the patent, NHS is absorbed by this colossus, natural birth is discouraged and almost disappears. At the beginning, there were protests against the unnatural aspect of the birth but as the technology proved more and more popular and safe, the voices have died out. Then, something happens. The company starts to advertise a new program of natural birth. Two people realize that something is wrong, Eva, a former protester and Piotr, a journalist who is employed to cover the birth of the grand-grandson of first woman to give birth via the pouch. They soon realize that babies started to die and they team up to discover the truth.
The novel is fast pace and I kept turning the pages in order to find out how the plot progresses. However, plot is not the most important aspect in the novel. The author raises numerous questions regarding the effects of the artificial womb have on the people’s psychology and the society as whole. Has the pouch really helped to achieve equality between men and women? Can it be used to control women and makes the redundant? Is it ok for a company to control almost all human births?
The novel is like a beautiful collage. The author mingles pieces of the story, mixing past and present until everything is put together at the end. The beginning might be a bit confusing but everything will come together nicely. Sedgwick’s writing is flowing beautifully; it reaches the depths of my soul. She manages to make me care for the characters and their drama like few writers can. I can feel their loss, their suffering, happiness and anger liker they were mine.
I decided to give it only four stars because of two reasons. Firstly, the beginning was a bit confusing and the transition from one timeline to another was not always smooth. Secondly, there were some consequences of the pouch invention that were not discussed. For example, if there were no birth deaths the result could be a risk of overpopulation.
I thank Helen Sedgwick and Random House UK, Vintage Publishing for providing me with a copy in exchange for my honest review.
September 5, 2017
***Note: I received a copy curtesy of Netgalley and Vintage Digital in exchange for an honest review.
A psychological drama about parenthood and its implication, about different ways of pregnancy and how they impact our society. Most of the story is centered around the pouch, a new means of carring a baby, an artificial, external womb, non-dependent of genre.
Heterosexual couples, gay couples, infertile persons, older persons, people with different genetic problems who couldn’t otherewise birth a child, are now able to do so with the help of the pouch. This way, at least theoretically, the equality between women and men is at last achieved: both to carry and care for the baby they share, and to work without the impediments of a real pregnancy.
The book covers the pros and cons of the pouch, the different arguments of both sides, the impact it has on the society (more possibilities for some, abuse, fostering/adoptions, care homes, economical impact, etc), and also adds some personal family drama and relashionship issues, plus some mystery.
Notes for the publisher: it would be useful to add better delimitation between changes of PoV and of time; also, I would suggest to change the strange and annoying lettering at the start of the chapters (ex: all The weBSiTeS carried newS)
Note to all authors everywhere: please don't disregard the use of commas, they are so very important in the easy understanding and the meaning of a phrase. More and more I see that authors tend to forget to punctuate their written words, making it harder for readers to correctly and easily understand what they read; it's just sad..
A psychological drama about parenthood and its implication, about different ways of pregnancy and how they impact our society. Most of the story is centered around the pouch, a new means of carring a baby, an artificial, external womb, non-dependent of genre.
Heterosexual couples, gay couples, infertile persons, older persons, people with different genetic problems who couldn’t otherewise birth a child, are now able to do so with the help of the pouch. This way, at least theoretically, the equality between women and men is at last achieved: both to carry and care for the baby they share, and to work without the impediments of a real pregnancy.
[about indigo hamlets] "It is the synchronous nature of their hermaphroditism that is so unusual, you understand. Many species change from male to female at certain times in their life cycle, or develop in response to their surroundings, but to have both female and male sexual organs, to be able to simultaneously reproduce as both mother and father . . . to share so completely. Nature really is capable of so much more than us – I believe that now more than ever. When two indigos meet they form a mating clasp, a sort of spinning embrace that churns up the water so rapidly it forms a vortex. Three seconds it lasts, the vortex, that is all – but what a three seconds! They each take on a role, male and female, and release gametes into the vortex where they are fertilised. And then they swap. They join together in their mating clasp again and create a new vortex, except this time the former male acts as the female and the former female acts as the male. Do you see? They are both mother and father, and in being mother or father neither loses the ability to become instead father, or mother."But there are still some that use the pouch to render useless the women, to oppress them. Also, the patent is used exclusively by one company, FullLife, who also took over health insurances from NHS and doesn’t (as long as I could understand from the text) offer (or promote?) natural birth plans, until some problems begin to emerge.
The book covers the pros and cons of the pouch, the different arguments of both sides, the impact it has on the society (more possibilities for some, abuse, fostering/adoptions, care homes, economical impact, etc), and also adds some personal family drama and relashionship issues, plus some mystery.
"Love could be such a kind thing, when reciprocated, and such a cruelty when not."Why 4 stars? Because, unfortunately, it took me ~20% of the book to really get into it. I found the first part rather confusing, as the story goes back and forth through different characters and different timelines, which are not very well delimited and not very clear. I would have given it a wholehearted 5 had the first part been 'smoother'.
"But despite that, I still believe in science. I believe in its power to change the world for the better, as long as our ethics can keep up with our invention. We are responsible for what we create."
"Was it old age that made people so convinced the opinions they held were right? Was it the repetition of telling yourself what you believed, year after year, that brought conviction? When you think about something, it creates a pattern in your brain. When you rethink it, the pattern gets stronger; hazy memories start to feel like recent experiences. Opinions can start to seem like fact."
Notes for the publisher: it would be useful to add better delimitation between changes of PoV and of time; also, I would suggest to change the strange and annoying lettering at the start of the chapters (ex: all The weBSiTeS carried newS)
Note to all authors everywhere: please don't disregard the use of commas, they are so very important in the easy understanding and the meaning of a phrase. More and more I see that authors tend to forget to punctuate their written words, making it harder for readers to correctly and easily understand what they read; it's just sad..
September 2, 2017
I don't think there's a book by Helen I could hate.
Maybe if she wrote it backwards with her left foot, while riding on a gray mare,
also
backwards over muddy marshes..? Yet, still.
I think I'd love it too.
There's just something about Helen's style and topics that always appeals to me. When one of my Goodreads friends told me this was up on NetGalley, I did a happy dance, clapped my hands and off I went right away to request it. Although I had doubts that maybe this topic matter is not for me – I have my own psychological reservations when it comes to babies and pregnancy, it turned out to be right up my alley. I can now self-centeredly continue feeling that Helen Sedgwick writes for me.
(if the images don’t load, try reading the post on my blog.)
Now that we've established that I'll read anything Helen writes, let me tell you more about the book – Helen invites us to a world that's roughly an alternate reality of ours. Everything is more or less the same, apart from one thing. Sometime between the 60s and the 70s, the pouch was invented. The pouch is an external womb, so to say – enabling absolutely everyone who wants it to have a baby – men included, infertile couples included, even gay couples included. The biggest difference from surrogate motherhood that this wonderful device brings is the fact that you can strap it on like a real belly and experience being 'a mother' while actually being a father or undesignated parent. Which makes the experience of motherhood accessible to everyone – equally. This is the biggest wonder, not to speak of the fact that women are suddenly men's equals and don't have to go through the ordeal of childbirth anymore. The world quite naturally moves towards the pouch replacing natural birth, as it's safer (practically no chance of a miscarriage, no health risks either.)
Is this new invention a blessing or a curse? Is it ridding women of their suffering, or is it taking away they only thing that was their privilege, making them redundant? I believe this question can be answered so many ways, I struggled with how I feel about it a lot while reading The Growing Season. I believe every feminist should read this book – it poses so many important questions that every feminist should think about.
In the end, you know there is something wrong when one company manages everyone's births, and won't even allow the option of natural birth , if you're not incredibly wealthy. But someone is bound to realize things are not quite alright when 50 years later the monopoly of the pouches starts offering natural birth plans again. And a former natural birth activist, a journalist and the first woman to have ever had an artificial birth baby are going to find out what it's about.
When I put it like that, it might sound like a mystery, or a thriller. But it's not – if you know Helen's writing, it's flowing and literary, it will weave strands of the story together slowly, but surely. Don't expect adventure or mind-blowing events. This is more of a "find yourself" kind of story. You might even feel lost at first, before she brings all the separate stories together, but for me, that's what makes the beauty of this book. If any of you have read more of her work, the themes of separation, helplessness are explored in this one as well. I also just love her writing and how it deals with emotional trauma, loss, grief. I can connect to what she writes so easily. And what's more – Helen's books are just so realistic – the problems don't end with the book. Life still goes on. We just have a glimpse, and leave the characters to solve their world shattering problems on their own.
Last, but not least – spoiler time. Please don't open the spoiler if you haven't read the book.
I strongly recommend this book! It was a great reading experience. However, you should only pick it up if you are into tough, serious topics – it's not a light read. I thank Helen Sedgwick and Random House UK, Vintage Publishing for providing me with a copy in exchange for my honest review. If you're interested in the other book of Helen's that I reviewed, you can read the review here: The Comet Seekers.
Read Post On My Blog | My Bookstagram | Bookish Twitter
There's just something about Helen's style and topics that always appeals to me. When one of my Goodreads friends told me this was up on NetGalley, I did a happy dance, clapped my hands and off I went right away to request it. Although I had doubts that maybe this topic matter is not for me – I have my own psychological reservations when it comes to babies and pregnancy, it turned out to be right up my alley. I can now self-centeredly continue feeling that Helen Sedgwick writes for me.
(if the images don’t load, try reading the post on my blog.)
Now that we've established that I'll read anything Helen writes, let me tell you more about the book – Helen invites us to a world that's roughly an alternate reality of ours. Everything is more or less the same, apart from one thing. Sometime between the 60s and the 70s, the pouch was invented. The pouch is an external womb, so to say – enabling absolutely everyone who wants it to have a baby – men included, infertile couples included, even gay couples included. The biggest difference from surrogate motherhood that this wonderful device brings is the fact that you can strap it on like a real belly and experience being 'a mother' while actually being a father or undesignated parent. Which makes the experience of motherhood accessible to everyone – equally. This is the biggest wonder, not to speak of the fact that women are suddenly men's equals and don't have to go through the ordeal of childbirth anymore. The world quite naturally moves towards the pouch replacing natural birth, as it's safer (practically no chance of a miscarriage, no health risks either.)
Is this new invention a blessing or a curse? Is it ridding women of their suffering, or is it taking away they only thing that was their privilege, making them redundant? I believe this question can be answered so many ways, I struggled with how I feel about it a lot while reading The Growing Season. I believe every feminist should read this book – it poses so many important questions that every feminist should think about.
In the end, you know there is something wrong when one company manages everyone's births, and won't even allow the option of natural birth , if you're not incredibly wealthy. But someone is bound to realize things are not quite alright when 50 years later the monopoly of the pouches starts offering natural birth plans again. And a former natural birth activist, a journalist and the first woman to have ever had an artificial birth baby are going to find out what it's about.
When I put it like that, it might sound like a mystery, or a thriller. But it's not – if you know Helen's writing, it's flowing and literary, it will weave strands of the story together slowly, but surely. Don't expect adventure or mind-blowing events. This is more of a "find yourself" kind of story. You might even feel lost at first, before she brings all the separate stories together, but for me, that's what makes the beauty of this book. If any of you have read more of her work, the themes of separation, helplessness are explored in this one as well. I also just love her writing and how it deals with emotional trauma, loss, grief. I can connect to what she writes so easily. And what's more – Helen's books are just so realistic – the problems don't end with the book. Life still goes on. We just have a glimpse, and leave the characters to solve their world shattering problems on their own.
Last, but not least – spoiler time. Please don't open the spoiler if you haven't read the book.
I strongly recommend this book! It was a great reading experience. However, you should only pick it up if you are into tough, serious topics – it's not a light read. I thank Helen Sedgwick and Random House UK, Vintage Publishing for providing me with a copy in exchange for my honest review. If you're interested in the other book of Helen's that I reviewed, you can read the review here: The Comet Seekers.
Read Post On My Blog | My Bookstagram | Bookish Twitter
October 13, 2017
For my full review: https://girlwithherheadinabook.co.uk/...
Imagine a world where anyone can conceive a child. Anyone. In The Growing Season, Helen Sedgwick's follow-up novel to her acclaimed The Comet Seekers, we are transported to alternative reality, one that closely resembles our own except for one crucial detail. At some point in around the 1970s, science was able to create an artificial womb known as 'the pouch'. Flashing forward fifty years, natural birth is outdated, the pouch accepted and ubiquitous and the initial pioneer Holly Bhattacharya, first woman to be mother to a child born via the pouch, is now 76 years old and awaiting the birth of her first great-grandchild. Across town, Eva shuts up shop on the campaign against the pouch which she has been waging all her life, the protest she inherited from her mother - she can see now that the pouch will never be stopped, that it is what people want. But is the pouch really as perfect as it appears?
As Alderman did so successfully in The Power, so also has Sedgwick launched a fascinating feminist thought experiment. With a background as a research physicist behind her, it is hardly surprising that Sedgwick brings some of this thinking to her work. Her envisaging of a world where artificial gestation is possible feels remarkably close particularly now that surrogacy and IVF are now so mainstream. With the pouch, gay and trans couples are now able to conceive children as easily as their heterosexual counterparts and women are easily able to put off motherhood into middle age.
The narration is swapped back and forth between various interested parties. As well as Eva and Holly, there is Holly's granddaughter, the excitable mother-to-be Rosie, then Karl who is one of Rosie's fathers-in-law and also Piotr, a journalist. Most enigmatic however is Frieda, the enigmatic scientist who first developed the pouches and worked with Holly on the early human trials. Not long after the pouch was proved successful, Frieda abruptly walked away from the project, having cut all ties with FullLife, the company who now possess the monopoly over the pouch patent. Living beside a lighthouse and far away from the rest of the world, Frieda speaks her thoughts into a tape recorder and looks forward to the weekly visits of the Asda delivery driver.
The Growing Season is a restrained novel, almost reticent in how it imagines a world without pregnancy, allowing the plot to speak for itself. In her youth, Frieda is said to have worked with Rosalind Franklin, the infamously uncelebrated pioneer of DNA whose work was purloined by Watson and Crick. Holly fumed through her childhood and adolescence as her parents gave opportunities to her brother and then denied them to her, certain that the biological requirement for women to carry children is the root of female subordination. With the pouch flipping this on its side, surely utopian equality can be achieved. Right? Right?
Much has been made of the line of literary descent between The Handmaid's Tale and The Power, with Margaret Atwood having acted as mentor to Naomi Alderman. However, for all of that, The Growing Season has in many ways a more direct relationship with the issues explored in Atwood's seminal novel. I found myself thinking more than I can ever remember doing in the past about society's attitudes towards pregnancy. This year has seen a great deal of debate around reproductive health and seen a number of senior politicians come out with some highly inflammatory views on the topic. It is incredible to me that people can look at women and see their ultimate purpose as no more than a vessel but this archaic view is still prevalent in society - if this role truly was removed, what would be the consequences?
Sedgwick sketches out a world where parenting is fairly distributed, how the fact that men have had a role in gestating their child makes them feel more involved from the beginning. Women no longer need time off after the birth to recuperate meaning that if they wish they can return to work straight away. Birth injuries are over, birth defects are eradicated - the pouch is safer, easier, more fair - it's just better.
Prospective mother Rosie is barely out of her teens - she tells journalist Piotr excitedly about the meaning of the designs on her pouch cover, her young husband Kaz plugs the audio adaptor into the pouch before bed so the fetus can hear his band play. They explain how little they anticipate the baby's birth interfering with their life plans - the pouch feels like an accessory. There is something uncomfortable here, as if the verses in the Bible about childbirth is Woman's punishment for the Fall really have seeped into our collective consciousness. Every mother I know has a birth story - it is called 'labour' for a reason, it is not easy. It feels wrong-footing to imagine a world where it is easy. I was reminded of the doctor in The House of Hidden Mothers who realises to her horror that a couple have decided to hire a surrogate not due to fertility issues but to avoid the stress of childbirth, just as one might put a ready meal in a microwave rather than cooking from scratch.
I have always felt uncertain about the idea of pregnancy myself but the idea of this role being taken away gave me a sense of possessiveness.. Holly's husband Will carried the pouch for his children and delighted over being able to feel the fetus moving, an experience that has never been available to men in the real world. Karl writes an impassioned letter of gratitude to Holly for going through the pouch trials, her work having been crucial in allowing members of the gay community such as himself to experience pregnancy. Holly remembers decades later how her mother quietly told her that she had loved carrying her own children. Rather than suffering under the curse of Eve, are women perhaps blessed in having the gift of a womb?
Like ripples on a pond, the consequences of the pouch spread further. The religious right were won over when FullLife began presenting the pouch as an alternative to abortion, with women who had unwanted pregnancies having the option to transplant them into a pouch. Of course, the pouch means that adoption rates have plummeted so low that these unwanted children have to grow up in care homes. Frieda remembers the moment she realises that in commandeering pregnancy, abusive males gained even more control over their wives and children. Someone else observes how the rise of female CEOs has left men feeling threatened and how now the once accepted conservative gender role of mother is gone, the battle lines between the sexes have become drawn out only more clearly.
Pregnancy has become more commercialised in recent years. There is a whole industry around what one ought or ought not to eat while in the family way, hosts of apparently well-meaning advice which studies have shown only make pregnant women feel worse. One can have a 3D scan, or a belly cast, or 3D print an effigy of your developing child, find out what its gender is, name it, all before you ever meet them. In a world that has stripped away so many of our messy physical realities, it is truly surprising that nobody has yet found a work-around so that the unpleasant business of labour. Rosie dismisses the idea of pregnancy, of actually feeling her baby beneath her ribs, as gross. This reminded me of a class I taught once who loudly objected to a topic on the human body because they regarded their physical processes as disgusting. Given all this, Sedgwick's FullLife corporation seemed worryingly plausible.
The contrast between the pouches which the wealthy Bhattacharya family could afford and the used ones which poorer families would be reduced to was a striking depiction of a real issue. Eva watches a couple using 'the oldest pouch she had ever seen', trying to play music to their unborn child even though it does not have the audio adaptor. Earlier in her life, she had travelled to Russia with Piotr and seen pouches left with the same nutrition bag for days at a time, abandoned fetuses left to starve. Frieda had specified that the pouch had to feel natural, that people had to feel able to hug it, snuggle it close, that it should feel warm - she wanted people to feel the same attachment. Still, it all recalls the Nestle powdered milk scandal, where people were told that bottle was better than breast for babies - a real life case of a corporation literally turning people against Mother Nature, with disastrous consequences.
A less astute writer than Sedgwick would have come down hard against FullLife and the pouch but instead, The Growing Season embraces the injustice of human biology. When something goes tragically, heartbreakingly wrong, Karl is furious that a father is blamed, that it is implied that they used the pouch incorrectly, but his husband points out that in the pre-pouch days, women were commonly held responsible. We all know that this still happens. Activist Avigail, Eva's mother, claims that women's primary purpose is to create life, with her argument feeling uncomfortably similar to US politician Justin Humphrey's statement that women exist only as 'hosts' once they are 'irresponsible' enough to have sex. The children who are born from the pouch - Daphne, Rosie, Kaz - are all cherished, loved, valued. The chief of FullLife takes off her suit, dons a woolly jumper and becomes human. We gain glimpses of a different world - a male receptionist absently stroking the bump of his pouch as he goes about his work, of family friends carrying the pouch for short periods so that they feel a part of the child's tribe.
The Growing Season leaves intriguing gaps for a reader - the idea of the care homes for unaborted children intrigued me and felt under-explored given the upsurge in the personhood movement. I found Frieda's characterisation frustrating in places and I would have liked to have understood more about Avigail. Still, what really struck me was how Sedgwick managed to explore one of the few truly universal human experiences from such an original and thought-provoking angle - the ramifications of how society would change if women's bodies were for themselves alone, how our own relationships with our parents would shift if there was more parity between them from the beginning. What do we become if we transcend biological function? As technology and science move ever forward, this feels like a question worthy of discussion.
Imagine a world where anyone can conceive a child. Anyone. In The Growing Season, Helen Sedgwick's follow-up novel to her acclaimed The Comet Seekers, we are transported to alternative reality, one that closely resembles our own except for one crucial detail. At some point in around the 1970s, science was able to create an artificial womb known as 'the pouch'. Flashing forward fifty years, natural birth is outdated, the pouch accepted and ubiquitous and the initial pioneer Holly Bhattacharya, first woman to be mother to a child born via the pouch, is now 76 years old and awaiting the birth of her first great-grandchild. Across town, Eva shuts up shop on the campaign against the pouch which she has been waging all her life, the protest she inherited from her mother - she can see now that the pouch will never be stopped, that it is what people want. But is the pouch really as perfect as it appears?
As Alderman did so successfully in The Power, so also has Sedgwick launched a fascinating feminist thought experiment. With a background as a research physicist behind her, it is hardly surprising that Sedgwick brings some of this thinking to her work. Her envisaging of a world where artificial gestation is possible feels remarkably close particularly now that surrogacy and IVF are now so mainstream. With the pouch, gay and trans couples are now able to conceive children as easily as their heterosexual counterparts and women are easily able to put off motherhood into middle age.
The narration is swapped back and forth between various interested parties. As well as Eva and Holly, there is Holly's granddaughter, the excitable mother-to-be Rosie, then Karl who is one of Rosie's fathers-in-law and also Piotr, a journalist. Most enigmatic however is Frieda, the enigmatic scientist who first developed the pouches and worked with Holly on the early human trials. Not long after the pouch was proved successful, Frieda abruptly walked away from the project, having cut all ties with FullLife, the company who now possess the monopoly over the pouch patent. Living beside a lighthouse and far away from the rest of the world, Frieda speaks her thoughts into a tape recorder and looks forward to the weekly visits of the Asda delivery driver.
The Growing Season is a restrained novel, almost reticent in how it imagines a world without pregnancy, allowing the plot to speak for itself. In her youth, Frieda is said to have worked with Rosalind Franklin, the infamously uncelebrated pioneer of DNA whose work was purloined by Watson and Crick. Holly fumed through her childhood and adolescence as her parents gave opportunities to her brother and then denied them to her, certain that the biological requirement for women to carry children is the root of female subordination. With the pouch flipping this on its side, surely utopian equality can be achieved. Right? Right?
Much has been made of the line of literary descent between The Handmaid's Tale and The Power, with Margaret Atwood having acted as mentor to Naomi Alderman. However, for all of that, The Growing Season has in many ways a more direct relationship with the issues explored in Atwood's seminal novel. I found myself thinking more than I can ever remember doing in the past about society's attitudes towards pregnancy. This year has seen a great deal of debate around reproductive health and seen a number of senior politicians come out with some highly inflammatory views on the topic. It is incredible to me that people can look at women and see their ultimate purpose as no more than a vessel but this archaic view is still prevalent in society - if this role truly was removed, what would be the consequences?
Sedgwick sketches out a world where parenting is fairly distributed, how the fact that men have had a role in gestating their child makes them feel more involved from the beginning. Women no longer need time off after the birth to recuperate meaning that if they wish they can return to work straight away. Birth injuries are over, birth defects are eradicated - the pouch is safer, easier, more fair - it's just better.
Prospective mother Rosie is barely out of her teens - she tells journalist Piotr excitedly about the meaning of the designs on her pouch cover, her young husband Kaz plugs the audio adaptor into the pouch before bed so the fetus can hear his band play. They explain how little they anticipate the baby's birth interfering with their life plans - the pouch feels like an accessory. There is something uncomfortable here, as if the verses in the Bible about childbirth is Woman's punishment for the Fall really have seeped into our collective consciousness. Every mother I know has a birth story - it is called 'labour' for a reason, it is not easy. It feels wrong-footing to imagine a world where it is easy. I was reminded of the doctor in The House of Hidden Mothers who realises to her horror that a couple have decided to hire a surrogate not due to fertility issues but to avoid the stress of childbirth, just as one might put a ready meal in a microwave rather than cooking from scratch.
I have always felt uncertain about the idea of pregnancy myself but the idea of this role being taken away gave me a sense of possessiveness.. Holly's husband Will carried the pouch for his children and delighted over being able to feel the fetus moving, an experience that has never been available to men in the real world. Karl writes an impassioned letter of gratitude to Holly for going through the pouch trials, her work having been crucial in allowing members of the gay community such as himself to experience pregnancy. Holly remembers decades later how her mother quietly told her that she had loved carrying her own children. Rather than suffering under the curse of Eve, are women perhaps blessed in having the gift of a womb?
Like ripples on a pond, the consequences of the pouch spread further. The religious right were won over when FullLife began presenting the pouch as an alternative to abortion, with women who had unwanted pregnancies having the option to transplant them into a pouch. Of course, the pouch means that adoption rates have plummeted so low that these unwanted children have to grow up in care homes. Frieda remembers the moment she realises that in commandeering pregnancy, abusive males gained even more control over their wives and children. Someone else observes how the rise of female CEOs has left men feeling threatened and how now the once accepted conservative gender role of mother is gone, the battle lines between the sexes have become drawn out only more clearly.
Pregnancy has become more commercialised in recent years. There is a whole industry around what one ought or ought not to eat while in the family way, hosts of apparently well-meaning advice which studies have shown only make pregnant women feel worse. One can have a 3D scan, or a belly cast, or 3D print an effigy of your developing child, find out what its gender is, name it, all before you ever meet them. In a world that has stripped away so many of our messy physical realities, it is truly surprising that nobody has yet found a work-around so that the unpleasant business of labour. Rosie dismisses the idea of pregnancy, of actually feeling her baby beneath her ribs, as gross. This reminded me of a class I taught once who loudly objected to a topic on the human body because they regarded their physical processes as disgusting. Given all this, Sedgwick's FullLife corporation seemed worryingly plausible.
The contrast between the pouches which the wealthy Bhattacharya family could afford and the used ones which poorer families would be reduced to was a striking depiction of a real issue. Eva watches a couple using 'the oldest pouch she had ever seen', trying to play music to their unborn child even though it does not have the audio adaptor. Earlier in her life, she had travelled to Russia with Piotr and seen pouches left with the same nutrition bag for days at a time, abandoned fetuses left to starve. Frieda had specified that the pouch had to feel natural, that people had to feel able to hug it, snuggle it close, that it should feel warm - she wanted people to feel the same attachment. Still, it all recalls the Nestle powdered milk scandal, where people were told that bottle was better than breast for babies - a real life case of a corporation literally turning people against Mother Nature, with disastrous consequences.
A less astute writer than Sedgwick would have come down hard against FullLife and the pouch but instead, The Growing Season embraces the injustice of human biology. When something goes tragically, heartbreakingly wrong, Karl is furious that a father is blamed, that it is implied that they used the pouch incorrectly, but his husband points out that in the pre-pouch days, women were commonly held responsible. We all know that this still happens. Activist Avigail, Eva's mother, claims that women's primary purpose is to create life, with her argument feeling uncomfortably similar to US politician Justin Humphrey's statement that women exist only as 'hosts' once they are 'irresponsible' enough to have sex. The children who are born from the pouch - Daphne, Rosie, Kaz - are all cherished, loved, valued. The chief of FullLife takes off her suit, dons a woolly jumper and becomes human. We gain glimpses of a different world - a male receptionist absently stroking the bump of his pouch as he goes about his work, of family friends carrying the pouch for short periods so that they feel a part of the child's tribe.
The Growing Season leaves intriguing gaps for a reader - the idea of the care homes for unaborted children intrigued me and felt under-explored given the upsurge in the personhood movement. I found Frieda's characterisation frustrating in places and I would have liked to have understood more about Avigail. Still, what really struck me was how Sedgwick managed to explore one of the few truly universal human experiences from such an original and thought-provoking angle - the ramifications of how society would change if women's bodies were for themselves alone, how our own relationships with our parents would shift if there was more parity between them from the beginning. What do we become if we transcend biological function? As technology and science move ever forward, this feels like a question worthy of discussion.
August 23, 2017
A concept that you can't help but want to know more about - men and women can now share the responsibility, the joys, of looking after a baby in the womb, via a pouch that can be worn by either for nine months.
This simple concept brings us into contact with several characters - the first woman to bear a child via the pouch - Holly, and her granddaughter Rosie, about to give birth to a son herself, the third generation in the family to do so. Other characters involved in FullLife come to the fore - journalists looking at the pouch and its science, men and women connected to the company and pouches, and babies produced by it.
Is there a conspiracy? Is FullLife hiding something?
In a rather intriguing book (the NHS is dead, men take pouches to work with them), the well-created world has you entranced by the concept of the pouch. I really wanted to see it, to understand its mechanism.
I did wonder where it was all leading, though I enjoyed my journey through the world, I did get a little confused at times which story we were following, who was who. There were hints of mystery and intrigue, and though all was explained, I had thought it was heading in a different direction.
Definitely one that gives pause for thought, makes you reconsider your own views on parenting and gender. Some emotional scenes that may upset.
With thanks to Netgalley for the advance e-copy.
This simple concept brings us into contact with several characters - the first woman to bear a child via the pouch - Holly, and her granddaughter Rosie, about to give birth to a son herself, the third generation in the family to do so. Other characters involved in FullLife come to the fore - journalists looking at the pouch and its science, men and women connected to the company and pouches, and babies produced by it.
Is there a conspiracy? Is FullLife hiding something?
In a rather intriguing book (the NHS is dead, men take pouches to work with them), the well-created world has you entranced by the concept of the pouch. I really wanted to see it, to understand its mechanism.
I did wonder where it was all leading, though I enjoyed my journey through the world, I did get a little confused at times which story we were following, who was who. There were hints of mystery and intrigue, and though all was explained, I had thought it was heading in a different direction.
Definitely one that gives pause for thought, makes you reconsider your own views on parenting and gender. Some emotional scenes that may upset.
With thanks to Netgalley for the advance e-copy.
May 6, 2019
The pouch looks like the answer to gender inequality. Women are disadvantaged by pregnancy and childcare, so the pouch offers the chance for men to share the burden and for women to access more opportunities. Except it isn’t quite as simple as that…
Are abusive men using the pouch to control their partners? Has meddling with nature created genetic mutations? And what about all the unwanted children who would have been aborted if not for the pouch?
In The Growing Season, two women with polarised views on the pouch go on a (metaphorical and at times, physical) journey to find out the truth.
Throughout The Growing Season, I kept thinking I’d glimpsed something sinister in my peripheral vision that then slipped away into obscurity. (The scene with the homeless man at the station, for example.)
I enjoyed some of the more romantic aspects of the book, not to mention the alternate reality/ sci-fi elements. However, it did feel that the author was deliberately trying to confuse timelines and string out revelations that seemed quite straightforward.
Overall though, this book gave me lots to think about and kept me entertained while I did it.
Are abusive men using the pouch to control their partners? Has meddling with nature created genetic mutations? And what about all the unwanted children who would have been aborted if not for the pouch?
In The Growing Season, two women with polarised views on the pouch go on a (metaphorical and at times, physical) journey to find out the truth.
Throughout The Growing Season, I kept thinking I’d glimpsed something sinister in my peripheral vision that then slipped away into obscurity. (The scene with the homeless man at the station, for example.)
I enjoyed some of the more romantic aspects of the book, not to mention the alternate reality/ sci-fi elements. However, it did feel that the author was deliberately trying to confuse timelines and string out revelations that seemed quite straightforward.
Overall though, this book gave me lots to think about and kept me entertained while I did it.
August 5, 2017
What a thought provoking read. FullLife's baby pouches enable parenting to be totally equal - either partner can carry the pouch, and a safe gentle birth is guaranteed. Or is it? Holly Bhattacharyya is the first woman to choose the pouch over natural birth, and it's now the turn of her granddaughter Rosie to do the same. Since the launch of the pouches there has been a small undercurrent of protest and investigation, and again this continues through the generations with Eva and Piotr picking up the research of Eva's mother. As the stories come together, the reader has to consider the ethical issues for themselves, and consider whether technology could really take us to such a place in the future. This is going to stay with me for some time while I have a good old think about it.
August 25, 2017
I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
It's rare that I find a book as thought provoking as this. I found it opened a lot of questions regarding so many sociological questions, and had me really examine my opinions. On reading the blurb for this, I thought it was going to be a easy dystopian type read, but I couldn't have been more wrong or surprised, but I'm so glad I was.
The Growing Season is set in a sort-of-near future reality whereby the invention of 'the pouch' has made pregnancy obsolete. Men and women can finally share the load of childbearing and equally split their time between child rearing and working. The NHS has been privatised, abortion rates are low, and neonatal deaths are non existent. Within the novel itself we follow a series of women who are somehow intrinsically linked to FullBirth, the company behind the invention of the pouch, and their investigation into a series of coverups by the company following a tragedy.
These women include Eva, an activist who's mother taught her the pitfalls of the pouch, and her determination to expose FullBirths secrets to the world. I liked Eva a lot. I found that as the novel went on she turned from a full blown activist to something more akin to a figurehead, or spokesperson for the average person. She expressed so many opinions on equality and prejudice that I could relate to myself. I especially liked the comments she makes about discrimination in the work place, and how the pouch changes the problem instead of eradicating it in the first place.
Holly, another character, is shown as a matriarchal figure, the first woman to have a 'pouch birth' and at the start of the novel expecting her first great grandchild via a pouch birth. At first she seems to be a perfect example of the success of FullBirth and the pouches, but she comes to see that her decision may have been rash. She trusts blindly in these scientists, not knowing all the facts or possible side effects that could occur in her future generations. She also comes across as very shrewd. She makes a few observations near the end of the novel that resonated with me regarding the fact that men and women aren't identical. If the sexes aren't identical, surely the strive for equality in fertility and childbearing is pointless?
I really enjoyed the overall plot for this, although I'll admit at first it took me a little while to get into it as I was very confused by the lack of world building at the beginning. There is never really an explanation with regards to how the pouches work, and how women can 'move' naturally conceived pregnancies into the pouches and I would have appreciated it. However, as the story progressed, I became so involved I these woman's stories, that this lack of information started to feel less important. Especially as it brought together such a surprising number of social issues for discussion, including women in the workplace, fertility, equality, IVF, and the risk vs benefits of an artificial birth. It was such an interesting and enlightening novel, and wholly unique within its genre.
The story is interspersed throughout with logs from the mysterious 'Freida', the inventor of the pouch. I wasn't as keen on these sections as I felt they stalled the story too much, and at times I got very confused about what was currently happening and what was 'in the past'. I clearer definitive sectioning of the past and present would have made things a lot easier.
Overall, however, these was a truly unique book that provoked a great amount of internal reflection and brought to the fore a greater understanding of social issues and equality.
It's rare that I find a book as thought provoking as this. I found it opened a lot of questions regarding so many sociological questions, and had me really examine my opinions. On reading the blurb for this, I thought it was going to be a easy dystopian type read, but I couldn't have been more wrong or surprised, but I'm so glad I was.
The Growing Season is set in a sort-of-near future reality whereby the invention of 'the pouch' has made pregnancy obsolete. Men and women can finally share the load of childbearing and equally split their time between child rearing and working. The NHS has been privatised, abortion rates are low, and neonatal deaths are non existent. Within the novel itself we follow a series of women who are somehow intrinsically linked to FullBirth, the company behind the invention of the pouch, and their investigation into a series of coverups by the company following a tragedy.
These women include Eva, an activist who's mother taught her the pitfalls of the pouch, and her determination to expose FullBirths secrets to the world. I liked Eva a lot. I found that as the novel went on she turned from a full blown activist to something more akin to a figurehead, or spokesperson for the average person. She expressed so many opinions on equality and prejudice that I could relate to myself. I especially liked the comments she makes about discrimination in the work place, and how the pouch changes the problem instead of eradicating it in the first place.
Holly, another character, is shown as a matriarchal figure, the first woman to have a 'pouch birth' and at the start of the novel expecting her first great grandchild via a pouch birth. At first she seems to be a perfect example of the success of FullBirth and the pouches, but she comes to see that her decision may have been rash. She trusts blindly in these scientists, not knowing all the facts or possible side effects that could occur in her future generations. She also comes across as very shrewd. She makes a few observations near the end of the novel that resonated with me regarding the fact that men and women aren't identical. If the sexes aren't identical, surely the strive for equality in fertility and childbearing is pointless?
I really enjoyed the overall plot for this, although I'll admit at first it took me a little while to get into it as I was very confused by the lack of world building at the beginning. There is never really an explanation with regards to how the pouches work, and how women can 'move' naturally conceived pregnancies into the pouches and I would have appreciated it. However, as the story progressed, I became so involved I these woman's stories, that this lack of information started to feel less important. Especially as it brought together such a surprising number of social issues for discussion, including women in the workplace, fertility, equality, IVF, and the risk vs benefits of an artificial birth. It was such an interesting and enlightening novel, and wholly unique within its genre.
The story is interspersed throughout with logs from the mysterious 'Freida', the inventor of the pouch. I wasn't as keen on these sections as I felt they stalled the story too much, and at times I got very confused about what was currently happening and what was 'in the past'. I clearer definitive sectioning of the past and present would have made things a lot easier.
Overall, however, these was a truly unique book that provoked a great amount of internal reflection and brought to the fore a greater understanding of social issues and equality.
August 9, 2017
Picking up points from Brave New World (incubation centres) and The Handmaid's Tale (maternity, fertility), this is a high-concept novel that raises some important points for debate. The scenario is that a private for-profit company has invented an artificial womb which exists outside of the body, and has taken over all NHS pregnancy contracts. It's sold as the end of female inequality due to physiology and opens up the possibilities of men experiencing 'pregnancy' as well as women: the 'womb', named the Pouch, comes with a range of accessories and is worn outside the body, then hung up at night in a birthing stand. Only babies are dying, of course there's a cover up as so much money is at stake, and an intrepid journalist and long-time campaigner are on the trail of the truth...
Sedgwick has created an interesting scenario here but the controversial topic doesn't really fill the novel. She's approached the subject in a rounded way, offering pros and cons of the science and its impact on society. There are certainly issues about the commodification of childbirth and the capitalist economy of Pouch accessories (like Kindle covers!) which come in a range of colours and textures to suit all tastes, as well as comments on the lack of government funding for the NHS and the shift to private for-profit healthcare.
My issue, though, is that once all this good stuff is established, there's very little story. A lead scientist already knows what the cause of the deaths are and so do we at about a third of the way through - the rest is taken up with lots of backstories, unlikely relationships between a small cast of characters, and the search for evidence to back up what we already know. There are certainly emotive stories about babies and maternity/paternity so readers for whom this is a hot-button may like this more - for me, lots of interesting ideas and topics for public debate, but less successful as a novel.
Thanks to the publisher for an ARC via NetGalley
Sedgwick has created an interesting scenario here but the controversial topic doesn't really fill the novel. She's approached the subject in a rounded way, offering pros and cons of the science and its impact on society. There are certainly issues about the commodification of childbirth and the capitalist economy of Pouch accessories (like Kindle covers!) which come in a range of colours and textures to suit all tastes, as well as comments on the lack of government funding for the NHS and the shift to private for-profit healthcare.
My issue, though, is that once all this good stuff is established, there's very little story. A lead scientist already knows what the cause of the deaths are and so do we at about a third of the way through - the rest is taken up with lots of backstories, unlikely relationships between a small cast of characters, and the search for evidence to back up what we already know. There are certainly emotive stories about babies and maternity/paternity so readers for whom this is a hot-button may like this more - for me, lots of interesting ideas and topics for public debate, but less successful as a novel.
Thanks to the publisher for an ARC via NetGalley
August 15, 2017
A beautiful, thought provoking book. Exquisitely layered with hope, sadness, heart-break, love, family, science-fiction and dystopia. Set in the near future where a bio-tech baby pouch has been invented and is owned by a private-for profit FullLife Company who have exclusive rights to the pouches. This pouch is marketed to allow anyone to experience pregnancy and as an end to female equality issues. A journalist discovers that there are problems with some of the babies being born from the pouches which is being covered up by the FullLife Company. A mix of characters try to figure out what is happening and causing babies to die in the pouches, as there is a lot at stake both financial and society wide.
This book explores many ethical dilemmas around women's roles, equality, family, life and death. This is done in a wonderfully thought out and caring way that forms part of the book and the characters views. The pros and cons of the science and how this impacts on society are explored which I enjoyed as science ethics really interests me. Earlier parts of the book run a little slow but the last section makes up for this. The thriller part of the novel runs slim, a lot of pages are devoted to backstories of the characters and their views, and exploring the ethics around the technology. To me this added to the book, giving emotion and making it a really thought-provoking read. Some themes reminded me of the Handmaiden's Tale with its look at how conceiving babies is a woman's role but how the pouch could transform that. But The Growing Season is a wonderfully original novel that deserves a place amongst the must-reads of dystopian fiction.
Sedgewich writes in a passionate, evocative prose that is very captivating. The characters are all human, fleshed out with flaws and strengths, errors and achievements that allow you to connect with them. At times I got a little confused with who's story I was reading as characters would switch around within chapters so you do need to pay attention.
It is a book I will read again, for the hope contained within the pages for a better future and the beautiful tale of love and heartbreak.
I'd recommend to anyone who likes: Strong female characters, science fiction, dystopia, feminism, science ethics.
I received a free advanced reader copy via Netgallery in return for an honest review.
This book explores many ethical dilemmas around women's roles, equality, family, life and death. This is done in a wonderfully thought out and caring way that forms part of the book and the characters views. The pros and cons of the science and how this impacts on society are explored which I enjoyed as science ethics really interests me. Earlier parts of the book run a little slow but the last section makes up for this. The thriller part of the novel runs slim, a lot of pages are devoted to backstories of the characters and their views, and exploring the ethics around the technology. To me this added to the book, giving emotion and making it a really thought-provoking read. Some themes reminded me of the Handmaiden's Tale with its look at how conceiving babies is a woman's role but how the pouch could transform that. But The Growing Season is a wonderfully original novel that deserves a place amongst the must-reads of dystopian fiction.
Sedgewich writes in a passionate, evocative prose that is very captivating. The characters are all human, fleshed out with flaws and strengths, errors and achievements that allow you to connect with them. At times I got a little confused with who's story I was reading as characters would switch around within chapters so you do need to pay attention.
It is a book I will read again, for the hope contained within the pages for a better future and the beautiful tale of love and heartbreak.
I'd recommend to anyone who likes: Strong female characters, science fiction, dystopia, feminism, science ethics.
I received a free advanced reader copy via Netgallery in return for an honest review.
September 6, 2017
Warm, thoughtful and kind. It presents some big issues but brings a human side to give them meaning.
The Growing Season is set in an alternate version of our world, differing from ours only in the invention of the biotech baby pouch two generations ago. The pouch is an artificial womb that allows babies to be incubated outside of the human body. FullLife own the patent for the pouch and have marketed it so successfully as an end to inequality and the dangers of childbirth that natural births are rare.
Eva is carrying on her mother's work of campaigning against the pouch. She believes that the technology has moved too fast, that as a society we did not stop to think about the issues, and now we are blind to any problems that the pouch brings along with it.
Holly had the very first pouch baby and is now a poster girl for FullLife. She is about to have her first grandchild, and she loves the pouch and the freedom and choices it brings for parents.
The book takes a very balanced view of the issues and presents both sides of the argument. It looks at the benefits of allowing both men and women to be involved in carrying the unborn child, how it allows people to be parents that otherwise wouldn't be able to, and how it protects women from the dangers of childbirth.
We are also shown the other side - how it could enable domestic abuse, how it affects society in negative ways, how we adopt technology so quickly that we don't think about the side effects, or what happens when it goes wrong. It also touches on the dangers of allowing one big company to have such a monopoly on our lives, and how it excludes those who live in poverty even further.
So it's tackling big issues and could very easily have been dry and preachy. But Sedgwick makes them accessible by giving them a human face and showing how they affect people personally. Through Eva and Holly, she tells a warm and moving story about people. Their lives and families take up a big part of the book. I never felt like she was pushing the discussion about the issues or forcing an opinion on me, the story always comes first.
I thought it would be hard to read, so much so that I almost picked up something else when I was too tired to concentrate, but I gave this a go and got drawn in straight away. The writing is beautiful, almost lyrical at times and I flew through it because I cared so much about the characters.
Highly recommend this one if you like sci-fi, women's issues, ethics in technology, or if you just like stories about people.
I received a free copy from the publisher in return for an honest review.
The Growing Season is set in an alternate version of our world, differing from ours only in the invention of the biotech baby pouch two generations ago. The pouch is an artificial womb that allows babies to be incubated outside of the human body. FullLife own the patent for the pouch and have marketed it so successfully as an end to inequality and the dangers of childbirth that natural births are rare.
Eva is carrying on her mother's work of campaigning against the pouch. She believes that the technology has moved too fast, that as a society we did not stop to think about the issues, and now we are blind to any problems that the pouch brings along with it.
Holly had the very first pouch baby and is now a poster girl for FullLife. She is about to have her first grandchild, and she loves the pouch and the freedom and choices it brings for parents.
The book takes a very balanced view of the issues and presents both sides of the argument. It looks at the benefits of allowing both men and women to be involved in carrying the unborn child, how it allows people to be parents that otherwise wouldn't be able to, and how it protects women from the dangers of childbirth.
We are also shown the other side - how it could enable domestic abuse, how it affects society in negative ways, how we adopt technology so quickly that we don't think about the side effects, or what happens when it goes wrong. It also touches on the dangers of allowing one big company to have such a monopoly on our lives, and how it excludes those who live in poverty even further.
So it's tackling big issues and could very easily have been dry and preachy. But Sedgwick makes them accessible by giving them a human face and showing how they affect people personally. Through Eva and Holly, she tells a warm and moving story about people. Their lives and families take up a big part of the book. I never felt like she was pushing the discussion about the issues or forcing an opinion on me, the story always comes first.
I thought it would be hard to read, so much so that I almost picked up something else when I was too tired to concentrate, but I gave this a go and got drawn in straight away. The writing is beautiful, almost lyrical at times and I flew through it because I cared so much about the characters.
Highly recommend this one if you like sci-fi, women's issues, ethics in technology, or if you just like stories about people.
I received a free copy from the publisher in return for an honest review.
February 7, 2018
probably 7 or 8 stars, easily... this is the BEST science fiction book i have read that deals with the realities of advanced childbirth technology and how it intersects and undermines and compounds socio-cultural norms, simple human frailty, and techno-morality issues... so many questions are posed, and all of them are just either left there for the reader to dissect and analyze and discuss in their own head, OR if they are argued back and forth in the novel, they are handle so evenly and judiciously and with so much heart and respect and smarts it is mindblowing... minor quibble: the ending was a tad drawn out and kind of lost the momentum of the narrative, but it was done rather well in spite of that lull, not candy-coating anything or anyone, or telling you how to think or feel, no one being hero or victim or superhuman or ogre-ish... superb... i won't go over the moral and legal and gender and scientific conundrums and quarrels and the like, as that just takes away from the ABSOLUTE EPIC-NESS of the writing... everything works, flawlessly... the book makes you laugh and cry and seethe and wonder and dream and gag and get-all-righteous and, in the end, hope... technology won't change people, it will just amplify what is already there... it is up to humans to bring simple respect to how we live...
September 7, 2017
I was sent a review copy of this book from the author and it's a book that I knew was slightly out of my comfort zone, but had a feeling I'd enjoy.
I was not disappointed.
Helen Sedgwick backs up what could have been in other hands a simple black and white scientific discussion. Until you involve people who have real issues, feelings and emotions. The characters all have their reasons for believing their standpoint at the beginning. At the end some views are changed and others are softened or just more open to seeing what is going wrong around them.
It brings to mind echoes of Brave New World and serves as a warning to not only look before we dive into "better" futures but keep checking on what our world turns into and give open choices. Sometimes what appears dead and outdated is, though frequently it's a stark reminder that although new things work not all older ideas should be thrown away.
Excellent read Helen Sedgwick
I was not disappointed.
Helen Sedgwick backs up what could have been in other hands a simple black and white scientific discussion. Until you involve people who have real issues, feelings and emotions. The characters all have their reasons for believing their standpoint at the beginning. At the end some views are changed and others are softened or just more open to seeing what is going wrong around them.
It brings to mind echoes of Brave New World and serves as a warning to not only look before we dive into "better" futures but keep checking on what our world turns into and give open choices. Sometimes what appears dead and outdated is, though frequently it's a stark reminder that although new things work not all older ideas should be thrown away.
Excellent read Helen Sedgwick
August 5, 2017
What a strangely captivating book this was.
The plot surrounds a technology that has allowed anyone to gestate a baby using a synthetic pouch which is capable of getting nutrients to the baby and replaces the need for an actual womb. The techno,off proves to be amazing for some but there have always been protestors who think using the pouch is wrong.
When problems begin occurring with babies born from the pouch a mixed group of characters must work to figure out why this is happening. Have they reintroduced infertility with the pouch?
Sedgwick has laid out this story beautifully and I found it to be a very engrossing read.
The plot surrounds a technology that has allowed anyone to gestate a baby using a synthetic pouch which is capable of getting nutrients to the baby and replaces the need for an actual womb. The techno,off proves to be amazing for some but there have always been protestors who think using the pouch is wrong.
When problems begin occurring with babies born from the pouch a mixed group of characters must work to figure out why this is happening. Have they reintroduced infertility with the pouch?
Sedgwick has laid out this story beautifully and I found it to be a very engrossing read.
September 21, 2019
Absolutely fantastic read, really enjoyed how the story came together. Plus fiction involving plausible science is a win!
September 21, 2017
I’m not altogether sure what to think of this book. I went into it expecting a kind of dystopian thriller, and what I got instead was a detailed, nuanced portrayal of the way in which society perceives motherhood, childbirth, and how we as humans deal with separation, loss and love.
Heavy stuff.
So I picked it up with some trepidation. But I needn’t have worried. Helen Sedgwick is the author of the fantastic Comet Seekers, and she brings that same deft touch to The Growing Season, plunging us without any explanation straight into an alternative reality where the only thing that is different to ours is that humans now don’t give birth naturally. Instead, they use a portable womb called ‘the pouch’, which allows both parents to take turns ‘carrying’ their child and results in a painless, easy birth at the end. Society has completely adopted the pouch, but now problems are starting to arise: stillbirths, fatalities, that plunge the lives of the people affected into disarray. Is the pouch really a good thing?
The good thing is that there is no definitive answer. There are no ‘good’ or ‘bad’ people in this story: only people, and Sedgwick draws her characters deftly, giving them depth and emotion and making the challenges they face throughout the novel seem much more relatable, and real, than they might otherwise do.
We get to see through the eyes of a huge variety of people on different sides of the debate: there’s Eva, whose mother Avigail fought against the pouch, but whose secrets are only coming to light now; Piotr, a washed-up journalist; James Quentin, a scientist at FullLife, the company producing the pouches, who is struggling with the reality of artificial pregnancy, and the Bhattarachyya family, whose matriarch, Holly, was the first person to use the pouch, and whose granddaughter Rosie suffers a terrible loss. And the mysterious woman living in a lighthouse, who lives in fear of society and longs to see her daughter again. It’s a testament to Sedgwick’s skill that each of these people have their own distinctive voice, and their own story to tell, as they are drawn into each others’ orbit.
The plotting here is deft and sure: the plot strands, and the lives of the characters, are slowly teased out and new connections appear regularly that cast new light on the relationships between the protagonists. Holly knew Freida, the woman who invented the pouches. Eva and Piotr used to go out- until Eva’s miscarriage tore them apart. James Quentin was in love with Avigail. I could go on, but this kind of plotting, which focusses on the characters, gives the story a much richer feel and makes you care about them and about the issues with which they’re wrestling.
And what issues they are: Sedgwick uses her characters, and the tragedy that befalls Holly’s granddaughter, Rosie, to explore themes like bereavement, how loss affects everybody in different ways, how relationships start, and fall apart…it’s delicately, and touchingly, done, and definitely pulled on a few of my heartstrings in the process.
Although it starts slowly, The Growing Season is a lovely, restrained, heartfelt depiction of society and our place in it- and its potential for change. If you don’t want to tackle any heavy topics, it probably isn’t for you; if you take a chance and read it though, it’s definitely worth it.
Heavy stuff.
So I picked it up with some trepidation. But I needn’t have worried. Helen Sedgwick is the author of the fantastic Comet Seekers, and she brings that same deft touch to The Growing Season, plunging us without any explanation straight into an alternative reality where the only thing that is different to ours is that humans now don’t give birth naturally. Instead, they use a portable womb called ‘the pouch’, which allows both parents to take turns ‘carrying’ their child and results in a painless, easy birth at the end. Society has completely adopted the pouch, but now problems are starting to arise: stillbirths, fatalities, that plunge the lives of the people affected into disarray. Is the pouch really a good thing?
The good thing is that there is no definitive answer. There are no ‘good’ or ‘bad’ people in this story: only people, and Sedgwick draws her characters deftly, giving them depth and emotion and making the challenges they face throughout the novel seem much more relatable, and real, than they might otherwise do.
We get to see through the eyes of a huge variety of people on different sides of the debate: there’s Eva, whose mother Avigail fought against the pouch, but whose secrets are only coming to light now; Piotr, a washed-up journalist; James Quentin, a scientist at FullLife, the company producing the pouches, who is struggling with the reality of artificial pregnancy, and the Bhattarachyya family, whose matriarch, Holly, was the first person to use the pouch, and whose granddaughter Rosie suffers a terrible loss. And the mysterious woman living in a lighthouse, who lives in fear of society and longs to see her daughter again. It’s a testament to Sedgwick’s skill that each of these people have their own distinctive voice, and their own story to tell, as they are drawn into each others’ orbit.
The plotting here is deft and sure: the plot strands, and the lives of the characters, are slowly teased out and new connections appear regularly that cast new light on the relationships between the protagonists. Holly knew Freida, the woman who invented the pouches. Eva and Piotr used to go out- until Eva’s miscarriage tore them apart. James Quentin was in love with Avigail. I could go on, but this kind of plotting, which focusses on the characters, gives the story a much richer feel and makes you care about them and about the issues with which they’re wrestling.
And what issues they are: Sedgwick uses her characters, and the tragedy that befalls Holly’s granddaughter, Rosie, to explore themes like bereavement, how loss affects everybody in different ways, how relationships start, and fall apart…it’s delicately, and touchingly, done, and definitely pulled on a few of my heartstrings in the process.
Although it starts slowly, The Growing Season is a lovely, restrained, heartfelt depiction of society and our place in it- and its potential for change. If you don’t want to tackle any heavy topics, it probably isn’t for you; if you take a chance and read it though, it’s definitely worth it.
March 25, 2018
Though it may be fairly quiet in execution compared to other speculative (and arguably dystopian) works, this book is certainly thought-provoking. It does indeed tackle a lot of big themes, chief amongst them being parenthood, morality, gender equality, and the danger of pushing science too far.
With babies now able to be developed in external wombs known as pouches, the way has been paved for true equality between the sexes. Women no longer have to fear the health implications of pregnancy and birth, nor do they require time off work to recuperate, leading to balanced career opportunities and fairer maternity/paternity leave. Better yet, both parents can share the load when it comes to carrying and caring for the pouch, granting all prospective parents a fair and equally involved experience. All is well... or perhaps not.
I really appreciated that Sedgwick presented sympathetic and engaging characters on both sides of the 'pouch' argument. They're flawed and fleshed out, and all hold their pro or anti-pouch beliefs for equally valid reasons, with the author not sitting in judgement of any of them. In doing this, she highlights the ethical grey area that typically comes with medical advances, and successfully makes the point that there is often no one clear-cut answer as to what is right and what is wrong.
I also really appreciated that she touched on many different facets of the pouch's intersectional impact, and the various groups it positively impacted (including gay couples, single parents, trans people, and those who were previously infertile). But again, in the spirit of balance, she also touched on the negative impact it had (including the use of the pouch to ostracise 'redundant' women, a lack of knowledge as to possible long-term effects of pouch births, and the rise of care homes necessary to house the children taken as embryos and born via pouch in place of abortions).
In structure, it occasionally comes unstuck slightly. There are several perspectives and timelines covered, and the transitions between them weren't always as seamless as could be.
The book asks if we can (and should) try to evolve beyond the limits of nature. It also asks what the cost of true physical equality could be, and what it really means to be a parent. Can we be universally equal, or will human corruption and fundamental difference of opinion always separate us? Should we even strive for equality in terms of the physical, or should mutual respect and embracement of biological difference be our aim instead?
For all its grounding in science and ethics, however, this is in fact a very human story, being largely a rumination on longing for family, and living with grief and guilt. If you like your speculative, dystopian works on the subtle, though no less thought-provoking side, this is well worth a read.
With babies now able to be developed in external wombs known as pouches, the way has been paved for true equality between the sexes. Women no longer have to fear the health implications of pregnancy and birth, nor do they require time off work to recuperate, leading to balanced career opportunities and fairer maternity/paternity leave. Better yet, both parents can share the load when it comes to carrying and caring for the pouch, granting all prospective parents a fair and equally involved experience. All is well... or perhaps not.
I really appreciated that Sedgwick presented sympathetic and engaging characters on both sides of the 'pouch' argument. They're flawed and fleshed out, and all hold their pro or anti-pouch beliefs for equally valid reasons, with the author not sitting in judgement of any of them. In doing this, she highlights the ethical grey area that typically comes with medical advances, and successfully makes the point that there is often no one clear-cut answer as to what is right and what is wrong.
I also really appreciated that she touched on many different facets of the pouch's intersectional impact, and the various groups it positively impacted (including gay couples, single parents, trans people, and those who were previously infertile). But again, in the spirit of balance, she also touched on the negative impact it had (including the use of the pouch to ostracise 'redundant' women, a lack of knowledge as to possible long-term effects of pouch births, and the rise of care homes necessary to house the children taken as embryos and born via pouch in place of abortions).
In structure, it occasionally comes unstuck slightly. There are several perspectives and timelines covered, and the transitions between them weren't always as seamless as could be.
The book asks if we can (and should) try to evolve beyond the limits of nature. It also asks what the cost of true physical equality could be, and what it really means to be a parent. Can we be universally equal, or will human corruption and fundamental difference of opinion always separate us? Should we even strive for equality in terms of the physical, or should mutual respect and embracement of biological difference be our aim instead?
For all its grounding in science and ethics, however, this is in fact a very human story, being largely a rumination on longing for family, and living with grief and guilt. If you like your speculative, dystopian works on the subtle, though no less thought-provoking side, this is well worth a read.
November 18, 2022
First of all, let me preface this review by saying that I think it's a shame that the term "Soft science fiction" seems to have gone out of style, and as a result many science fiction novels that focuses on soft science, such as societal issues, gets wrongly labelled as "dystopian". This is also what has happened to this novel, so if you want to read this because you are a fan of dystopian fiction, perhaps this is not the book for you as the society it portrays may be flawed, but it's flawed as in "not perfect", rather than downright Orwellian.
However, to me this was not an issue as I actually welcomed a novel that sought to give a more nuanced view than a dystopian novel could. I found the premise of "the growing season" to be very intriguing, what would society be like if pregnancy with all of its problems, such as its inherent unfairness, inequality and the strain it places on the pregnant person's body, were all eradicated?"The growing season" seeks to explore many of these issues, and the language Sedgwick employs to do so is beautiful and flowy without being exaggerated or hard to follow. But the problem with this novel lies in two of the most essential parts of storytelling: plot and execution.
First of all, the plot. The plot focuses on a group of people who are trying to come to terms with and understand the death of a baby who was carried via a pouch. It's presented as a sort of mystery, trying to figure out what went wrong and why. As far as plots go it's fine, still, within the world that Sedgwick created one can't help but think it's a shame that she chose a plot this basic when there are so many others from this universe that could be explored. For instance, the novel hints at there being extremist men's rights groups that have begun using the pouch to further their own vision of a future without women. Wouldn't it be far more interesting if we were to follow a child growing up in those circumstances? It also touches on how some men use the pouch to control and abuse their partners, wouldn't that also have been far more interesting to read about? I understand that she wanted to write a story that wouldn't take a strong stance either for or against the pouch, but the problem is that the plot we end up getting is very meh. And this also meant for me that the problems with the pouch were never fully explored as we are only told in passing about the particular issues that follows its creation. Sure, the story focuses on the death of a child, but even without the pouch, babies die before or during birth. But the issues such as the men's right activists using it to create a world without women is quite unique.
The second major problem with this novel is that it has far too many points of views, some of which were unnecessary. It is clear why Sedgwick chose this method, it's to show the reader the many different viewpoints of the people occupying this world. For instance, we have a gay couple who were able to have a child because of the pouch and it shows how the invention of the pouch meant that a young woman were able to get away from the expectations placed on her by her conservative family. Sedgwick also provides us with point of views from anti-pouch activists and the inventor of the pouch. This serves to give a more complete view of the pouch and the world it has created, however this falls flat as there are just too many POVs for a novel of this length. The character's particular stands are never fully explored, not to mention that the anti-pouch activists were never able to create a convincing argument (this isn't helped as we understand that the anti-pouch movement only exists out of spite for the pouch's creator). This ties in with my first point about never being shown the actual problems of the pouch, we are only told about them. And this also presents a problem because, even though there are several points of views, they are all too similar, none of them really stood out and some felt like filler.
*The last part of this review does contain spoilers. So if you haven't read this book yet and don't want any spoilers this is where you should stop reading*
My final problem is just my personal opinion and I completely understand if other people feel differently about this, but I just couldn't stand the #girlboss-iness of this book! So many female characters just have this "strong independent woman"-thing going on and no... just no. And it's also the way this is handled, like one woman seduces a much younger man by dressing up as, essentially, a primary school art teacher, and it works? I don't know about you, but when I imagine a sexy femme fatale I don't imagine a woman wearing a tie dye-dress and a seashell necklace... And then we're meant to understand this move as her being this smart and cunning lady who is willing to do whatever it takes to reach her goals. But it's just so clichée and it's not even done well.
And this isn't even the worst offender, by the end of the novel, the main protagonist, a woman who has spent most of her adult life basically working as an activist, gains control over the biggest and most important company in the entire country. And she doesn't get this position because of experience or skill, rather she gets it because of nepotism. And we, as readers, are supposed to think of this as a good ending, that this is where things change for the better. But no, I can't really be happy about this and I can't really imagine she would do a better job than anyone else. But we're supposed to buy into this narrative because she, just like her art teacher-cosplaying mother, is a #girlboss and when girlbosses are in power some sort of magic happens? It's like she believes that competence and knowhow are tools of the patriarchy.
So essentially, this is an interesting thought experiment that was poorly executed, which is a shame as I really do love these types of "what if"-stories.
However, to me this was not an issue as I actually welcomed a novel that sought to give a more nuanced view than a dystopian novel could. I found the premise of "the growing season" to be very intriguing, what would society be like if pregnancy with all of its problems, such as its inherent unfairness, inequality and the strain it places on the pregnant person's body, were all eradicated?"The growing season" seeks to explore many of these issues, and the language Sedgwick employs to do so is beautiful and flowy without being exaggerated or hard to follow. But the problem with this novel lies in two of the most essential parts of storytelling: plot and execution.
First of all, the plot. The plot focuses on a group of people who are trying to come to terms with and understand the death of a baby who was carried via a pouch. It's presented as a sort of mystery, trying to figure out what went wrong and why. As far as plots go it's fine, still, within the world that Sedgwick created one can't help but think it's a shame that she chose a plot this basic when there are so many others from this universe that could be explored. For instance, the novel hints at there being extremist men's rights groups that have begun using the pouch to further their own vision of a future without women. Wouldn't it be far more interesting if we were to follow a child growing up in those circumstances? It also touches on how some men use the pouch to control and abuse their partners, wouldn't that also have been far more interesting to read about? I understand that she wanted to write a story that wouldn't take a strong stance either for or against the pouch, but the problem is that the plot we end up getting is very meh. And this also meant for me that the problems with the pouch were never fully explored as we are only told in passing about the particular issues that follows its creation. Sure, the story focuses on the death of a child, but even without the pouch, babies die before or during birth. But the issues such as the men's right activists using it to create a world without women is quite unique.
The second major problem with this novel is that it has far too many points of views, some of which were unnecessary. It is clear why Sedgwick chose this method, it's to show the reader the many different viewpoints of the people occupying this world. For instance, we have a gay couple who were able to have a child because of the pouch and it shows how the invention of the pouch meant that a young woman were able to get away from the expectations placed on her by her conservative family. Sedgwick also provides us with point of views from anti-pouch activists and the inventor of the pouch. This serves to give a more complete view of the pouch and the world it has created, however this falls flat as there are just too many POVs for a novel of this length. The character's particular stands are never fully explored, not to mention that the anti-pouch activists were never able to create a convincing argument (this isn't helped as we understand that the anti-pouch movement only exists out of spite for the pouch's creator). This ties in with my first point about never being shown the actual problems of the pouch, we are only told about them. And this also presents a problem because, even though there are several points of views, they are all too similar, none of them really stood out and some felt like filler.
*The last part of this review does contain spoilers. So if you haven't read this book yet and don't want any spoilers this is where you should stop reading*
My final problem is just my personal opinion and I completely understand if other people feel differently about this, but I just couldn't stand the #girlboss-iness of this book! So many female characters just have this "strong independent woman"-thing going on and no... just no. And it's also the way this is handled, like one woman seduces a much younger man by dressing up as, essentially, a primary school art teacher, and it works? I don't know about you, but when I imagine a sexy femme fatale I don't imagine a woman wearing a tie dye-dress and a seashell necklace... And then we're meant to understand this move as her being this smart and cunning lady who is willing to do whatever it takes to reach her goals. But it's just so clichée and it's not even done well.
And this isn't even the worst offender, by the end of the novel, the main protagonist, a woman who has spent most of her adult life basically working as an activist, gains control over the biggest and most important company in the entire country. And she doesn't get this position because of experience or skill, rather she gets it because of nepotism. And we, as readers, are supposed to think of this as a good ending, that this is where things change for the better. But no, I can't really be happy about this and I can't really imagine she would do a better job than anyone else. But we're supposed to buy into this narrative because she, just like her art teacher-cosplaying mother, is a #girlboss and when girlbosses are in power some sort of magic happens? It's like she believes that competence and knowhow are tools of the patriarchy.
So essentially, this is an interesting thought experiment that was poorly executed, which is a shame as I really do love these types of "what if"-stories.
March 26, 2019
An easy read for my vacation, though ending up with undertones of there-is-more-to-this than meets the eye.
The story ends with the truth being revealed about well designed “pouches” to carry a fetus to birth. The depth of characters is well done, I feel like I could understand their interests and troubles each had developing thru the story. The timeline made a reliable feeling of coming into the truth in sequence with detective-type searching. Feelings were realistic, even for today’s problems with reproduction.
Of course there are more questions than answers for loaded subjects of natural birth and women’s rights, genetic influences, partner abuse, and objective choices.
One odd thing about this story was - I felt the sinister feeling about the “problem” didn’t seem sinister enough to warrant such a coverup by the maker of the pouch. Choices could have easily been given.
The story ends with the truth being revealed about well designed “pouches” to carry a fetus to birth. The depth of characters is well done, I feel like I could understand their interests and troubles each had developing thru the story. The timeline made a reliable feeling of coming into the truth in sequence with detective-type searching. Feelings were realistic, even for today’s problems with reproduction.
Of course there are more questions than answers for loaded subjects of natural birth and women’s rights, genetic influences, partner abuse, and objective choices.
One odd thing about this story was - I felt the sinister feeling about the “problem” didn’t seem sinister enough to warrant such a coverup by the maker of the pouch. Choices could have easily been given.
May 14, 2019
An interesting premise, I had high hopes for exploring a dystopia on par with Brave New World. I was disappointed with the (lack of) story however, as most of the novel covers backstory to some very 2-dimensional characters. We find the out the "issue" with the pouch about 1/3rd in, and the rest of the book drags along as the characters find out, while observing mundane things in their surroundings - e. g. from the final pages:
"Standing outside the Full Life birthing centre, Eva could tell that the front panel of glass had recently been replaced. There was a piece of cream-coloured tape still visible along one edge, the kind window fitters use to seal the glass against the frame during installation. She hoped that no one else had noticed it - she didn't want it to be removed."
Who cares? Not me.
"Standing outside the Full Life birthing centre, Eva could tell that the front panel of glass had recently been replaced. There was a piece of cream-coloured tape still visible along one edge, the kind window fitters use to seal the glass against the frame during installation. She hoped that no one else had noticed it - she didn't want it to be removed."
Who cares? Not me.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
December 4, 2017
I have tried this book so many times since I downloaded it from NetGalley but just haven't been able to get into it. I've tried and tried but I think I just don't get on with the writing style. I haven't DNFed a book in so long but I just have to because I don't think this book and I get on. It's such a shame because it sounds like an amazing premise and it's right up my street but it just doesn't grab me for some reason.
September 8, 2017
A really interesting book that had me gripped from the start.... Imagine a future where both men and women can 'have' children... Well in this future they can, by the way of the 'pouch' which enables a baby to grow outside of the womb in a bag that either parents can wear meaning that a family is accessible to most people ( Not sure how this fully works as it isn't explained!). But suddenly there are complications and deaths and the 'FullLife' company who have invented the pouch have started to cover up what is actually happening. The story follows a few people who are looking for answers.
Thanks to Netgalley and the publishers for the opportunity to review this book.
Thanks to Netgalley and the publishers for the opportunity to review this book.
November 18, 2022
The the plot of this book is just...people confirming there's a Problem. Sadly, it ends in the interesting spot where it should have started. Still a really interesting Speculative Fiction piece though.
May 3, 2019
I really wanted to like this book, a near future story detailing the ramifications of new birthing / childbearing technology....unfortunately I found he narrative to be a bit disjointed and it took almost a 100 pages to get to the "meat".
The novel may just not have been to my tastes.
The novel may just not have been to my tastes.
March 5, 2020
If a science fiction novel handwaves every bit of science in it, is it a science fiction novel?
What would happen if babies were gestated in an external, transferable, fashionable womb?
Which is a great premise – but the central ‘mystery’ is focused on what went wrong with the ‘pouches’ that has led to a tiny number of babies being still born. And if your central mystery is science based, you need some sort of science to be explored. Implantation – a well understood biological process whether IVF or natural – is not explored or explained. Neither is how embryos are ‘re-emplanted’ (Natural conception, gestated in the ‘pouch’) either after a ‘few days’ (presumably before you can know you are pregnant but before the stem cells that create both the placenta and the embryo are differentiated?) or at a later stage as an alternative to abortion. This is currently impossible – and the novel is contemporary if in an alternative UK where somehow in the 70s (or early 80s – the time lines are as garbled as the message) - so some speculation as to how this might be achieved would have been interesting, relevant and could have added some urgency to Eva and Petre’s investigations. Nor is the science of why the babies died explored. Presumably there would have been some monitoring of the baby during labour – as is current best practice. Which would have avoided parents/grandparents/the world and his dog being devastated at the unexpected delivery of a dead baby. We are told baby Will died during birth but looked beyond resuscitation at birth – a strange sheen/colour etc – which doesn’t make sense. What about the effect of being hung on a stand at night rather than listening to their mother’s body? Being cut off from their mother’s endocrine system? Digestive/blood system? There is more to gestation than nutrition. I could go on, but basically NOTHING about the science makes sense.
You could argue that The Growing Season is pure Speculative Fiction, about the potential effects on society of the ‘pouch’ rather than on the science, or on the mystery of what has gone wrong. But Sedgewick’s alternative UK doesn’t make much sense either. Yes – an external ‘sharable’ pouch could lead to different ways in which abusing mean can control and abuse their wives. But that is where the believability of this brave new pouch wearing world ends. Would the impact be enough for 1970’s/80’s UK to get rid of our beloved NHS? Enough that almost every pregnancy is pouched? So many pregnancies are unplanned but much wanted – would a mother really risk re-implantation to a pouch? Would it really cause equality? When women were/are still widely expected through all classes to be the main carer for children? It seems unlikely. There would be a section of men who – as they do today – share the care equally. But I can’t see the status quo changing for many at all. I can’t see men sharing pregnancy any more than they currently share childcare and certainly wouldn’t lead to changes in legislation anymore than men’s undoubted ability to care for a child has done so in the ‘real’ UK.
Worst of all was the suggestion that in poorer countries (Russia was the example) women would still somehow afford to and agree to undergo this transfer (or IVF) even though they couldn’t afford the nutrition to the point it damages their babies – rather than carrying naturally. This absolutely didn’t make any sense. I know it is a metaphor for Nestle and formula feed in some African countries – but the analogy is basically and fundamentally flawed.
There were moments that were powerful. The visceral horror of the orphanages full of nameless children that were born because women were persuaded to transfer their embryos to a pouch to appease a pro-life movement that the UK doesn’t really have. Again – almost certainly a metaphor for the effect of Ceaușescu’s ban on abortion in Romania. And again – it doesn’t work. Why would any woman needing an abortion chose to transfer to a pouch? It is a sickening thought. And any ‘pro-choice’ message is utterly undermined by Eva (from one such orphanage) having the revelation that her ‘life’ was ‘saved’ by a pouch. This left a nasty, 'pro-life' propaganda taste in my mouth.
OK, so it fails as science fiction. And as speculative fiction. How about a character led drama?
Nah. The characters we either horribly bland (Petre and all the males in the story) or horribly self-centred and/or childish. It was impossible to feel sympathy for Rosie when Will died because she is so immature. And by extension, her mother and grandmother condoning her reckless, selfish pregnancy lose any sympathy I might have had for them (if not bland (Daphne) or nasty (Holly)).
Social commentary? Nah – it can’t make up it’s mind if it is pro or anti anything – even the pouch.
On the plus side, there are moments of beautifully written prose that was a pleasure to listen to. And a fantastic idea that could have been explored so much better.
What would happen if babies were gestated in an external, transferable, fashionable womb?
Which is a great premise – but the central ‘mystery’ is focused on what went wrong with the ‘pouches’ that has led to a tiny number of babies being still born. And if your central mystery is science based, you need some sort of science to be explored. Implantation – a well understood biological process whether IVF or natural – is not explored or explained. Neither is how embryos are ‘re-emplanted’ (Natural conception, gestated in the ‘pouch’) either after a ‘few days’ (presumably before you can know you are pregnant but before the stem cells that create both the placenta and the embryo are differentiated?) or at a later stage as an alternative to abortion. This is currently impossible – and the novel is contemporary if in an alternative UK where somehow in the 70s (or early 80s – the time lines are as garbled as the message) - so some speculation as to how this might be achieved would have been interesting, relevant and could have added some urgency to Eva and Petre’s investigations. Nor is the science of why the babies died explored. Presumably there would have been some monitoring of the baby during labour – as is current best practice. Which would have avoided parents/grandparents/the world and his dog being devastated at the unexpected delivery of a dead baby. We are told baby Will died during birth but looked beyond resuscitation at birth – a strange sheen/colour etc – which doesn’t make sense. What about the effect of being hung on a stand at night rather than listening to their mother’s body? Being cut off from their mother’s endocrine system? Digestive/blood system? There is more to gestation than nutrition. I could go on, but basically NOTHING about the science makes sense.
You could argue that The Growing Season is pure Speculative Fiction, about the potential effects on society of the ‘pouch’ rather than on the science, or on the mystery of what has gone wrong. But Sedgewick’s alternative UK doesn’t make much sense either. Yes – an external ‘sharable’ pouch could lead to different ways in which abusing mean can control and abuse their wives. But that is where the believability of this brave new pouch wearing world ends. Would the impact be enough for 1970’s/80’s UK to get rid of our beloved NHS? Enough that almost every pregnancy is pouched? So many pregnancies are unplanned but much wanted – would a mother really risk re-implantation to a pouch? Would it really cause equality? When women were/are still widely expected through all classes to be the main carer for children? It seems unlikely. There would be a section of men who – as they do today – share the care equally. But I can’t see the status quo changing for many at all. I can’t see men sharing pregnancy any more than they currently share childcare and certainly wouldn’t lead to changes in legislation anymore than men’s undoubted ability to care for a child has done so in the ‘real’ UK.
Worst of all was the suggestion that in poorer countries (Russia was the example) women would still somehow afford to and agree to undergo this transfer (or IVF) even though they couldn’t afford the nutrition to the point it damages their babies – rather than carrying naturally. This absolutely didn’t make any sense. I know it is a metaphor for Nestle and formula feed in some African countries – but the analogy is basically and fundamentally flawed.
There were moments that were powerful. The visceral horror of the orphanages full of nameless children that were born because women were persuaded to transfer their embryos to a pouch to appease a pro-life movement that the UK doesn’t really have. Again – almost certainly a metaphor for the effect of Ceaușescu’s ban on abortion in Romania. And again – it doesn’t work. Why would any woman needing an abortion chose to transfer to a pouch? It is a sickening thought. And any ‘pro-choice’ message is utterly undermined by Eva (from one such orphanage) having the revelation that her ‘life’ was ‘saved’ by a pouch. This left a nasty, 'pro-life' propaganda taste in my mouth.
OK, so it fails as science fiction. And as speculative fiction. How about a character led drama?
Nah. The characters we either horribly bland (Petre and all the males in the story) or horribly self-centred and/or childish. It was impossible to feel sympathy for Rosie when Will died because she is so immature. And by extension, her mother and grandmother condoning her reckless, selfish pregnancy lose any sympathy I might have had for them (if not bland (Daphne) or nasty (Holly)).
Social commentary? Nah – it can’t make up it’s mind if it is pro or anti anything – even the pouch.
On the plus side, there are moments of beautifully written prose that was a pleasure to listen to. And a fantastic idea that could have been explored so much better.
April 22, 2019
An interesting premise, that external pouches can be used for the gestation of babies, and that these can be carried by both men and women, and burden neither overnight. For in this near-future story the pouch business is just that - a private business, with all the questions about accountability that that raises. The story of The Growing Season is told from the perspectives of people in two inter-connected families, as well as, in part, from the point of view of a disillusioned scientist - shades of David Kelly here.
For me, Helen Sedgwick interweaves the personal, the political and the scientific aspects of her story with skill and nuance. As she did in The Comet Seekers, she draws on her own scientific background; the science is convincing and the level of detail well-judged.
This is a story which tackles serious ethical issues about childbirth without ever becoming sententious. Highly recommended.
For me, Helen Sedgwick interweaves the personal, the political and the scientific aspects of her story with skill and nuance. As she did in The Comet Seekers, she draws on her own scientific background; the science is convincing and the level of detail well-judged.
This is a story which tackles serious ethical issues about childbirth without ever becoming sententious. Highly recommended.
April 19, 2019
I loved 'The Comet Seekers' by Helen Sedgwick, but I liked 'The Growing Season' even more. It was a book that I hardly put down once I'd started it. Great characterisation, great back stories, a gripping plot and an intriguing concept. The writing is beautiful - difficult moments described with breathtaking delicacy. It's a stand-out novel and I think it will be a bestseller.
December 21, 2017
I received this book as an ARC via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. All thoughts and opinions expressed here are my own.
The Growing Season is the story of a dystopian future where anyone can have a child -- male, female, fertile, infertile -- using a commercially available external pouch. I was intrigued by the idea of this, or more so the ethical conundrums it creates and how the author may present and/or tackle them. The plot focuses on many people who have had interactions with the pouch, whether that be being born as result of it, or being opposed to its introduction. Then things begin to go wrong and the science is called into question. Whilst I continued to find the concept interesting, I struggled a little bit with the story: I often felt distracted and not able to fully latch on (no pun intended) to what was happening to the characters, or to the characters themselves. I'm not sure whether that was because I'm quite science-focused and it was difficult firstly, to picture exactly how the pouch itself looks or feels. I cannot say that is because the author didn't do a good job of trying to explain that, just that I am visual learner and it was difficult to imagine such an unknown quantity. Secondly, my mind kept wondering back to the actual background science. That's not a distraction everyone will have though, admittedly. So in summary: great concept, I just didn't gel with this particular telling of it or the characters so much.
The Growing Season is the story of a dystopian future where anyone can have a child -- male, female, fertile, infertile -- using a commercially available external pouch. I was intrigued by the idea of this, or more so the ethical conundrums it creates and how the author may present and/or tackle them. The plot focuses on many people who have had interactions with the pouch, whether that be being born as result of it, or being opposed to its introduction. Then things begin to go wrong and the science is called into question. Whilst I continued to find the concept interesting, I struggled a little bit with the story: I often felt distracted and not able to fully latch on (no pun intended) to what was happening to the characters, or to the characters themselves. I'm not sure whether that was because I'm quite science-focused and it was difficult firstly, to picture exactly how the pouch itself looks or feels. I cannot say that is because the author didn't do a good job of trying to explain that, just that I am visual learner and it was difficult to imagine such an unknown quantity. Secondly, my mind kept wondering back to the actual background science. That's not a distraction everyone will have though, admittedly. So in summary: great concept, I just didn't gel with this particular telling of it or the characters so much.
August 22, 2017
Immersive and thought-provoking, The Growing Season is markedly different to Sedgwick's debut novel. It is just as accomplished and well written, however, and despite the elements of science fiction and futurism, it remains potently human.
July 11, 2023
Compelling. It would have been easy to have one dimensional bad guys in this story but in fact each character was believable and multi faceted.
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