"Yesteryear" is as dangerously addicting as the social media accounts it makes fun of
a book you can't put down that takes over your life
⭐4/5 A dangerously addicting book that feels less like reading and more like scrolling as you yearn for the hit of dopamine the next page brings
Review (spoiler free)
Who of us has not come cross a trad wife account in their life?
Come on, you know which one I mean.
Beautifully edited reels with birds chirping in the background whilst a smiling pregnant woman with hair like Rupunzel walks down wooden stairs in a prairie dress armed with a basket filled with flowers as she strolls to feed the pigs at 5am in the morning?
This is usually the point where the reel ends as we of course don’t get to see her dirtying her $500 wellington boots with animal shit - but we are nonetheless left with the distinct conviction that even if she did… she would still smell fantastic, like her home-made soap and glowing with what could only be described as God’s eternal light.
Yeah… That account.
An account I followed for years (I gave myself this limit. One. I can only follow one of these brainwash(ing)ed ladies. Them’s the rules to stay sane) and for the life of me I. Don’t. Know. Why. I. Do.
There is an undeniable fascination with the way these people live, or tell us they are living at least. And it is on this morbid curiosity that Caro Claire Burke intelligently leverages, delivering us a story just as addicting as those Instagram accounts we all follow but deny we do: from the get go, the book is written to hook you with wow effects and it does the job incredibly well.
That said, it is such a hot and weirdly interesting topic and it was so hyped up by the publishing industry, that I expected something of more substance and transparency to counterbalance the superficiality of the Instagram personality it wants to challenge. In this, I found it lacking, hence why the 4 stars.
That said, considering I read this in three days, it was pretty darn good.
If you haven’t read it yet… should you read it?
Yes. Hailed as the most important book of the year, I don’t want to sound dramatic, but it is a fantastic read which tackles one of the most concerning (although aesthetically pleasing) rising trends of our time. For this, as a woman especially, you should read it. Dive in with an open mind and you will enjoy this a ton.
Also, I recommend you do not listen to the audiobook for this one. The writing style is at times confusing, purposefully blurring the line of what Natalie only thinks and what she says out loud; and to further add confusion sometimes she doesn’t even follow the pattern so something you read in italics may be both, leaving you perplexed. It was hard reading it, so I imagine listening to it and following must be quite che challenge.
***BEWARE: OFFICIAL SPOILER ALERT FROM NOW ON***
What made Yesteryear brilliant:
The writing is absolutely addicting
Reading this feels like scrolling: you just can’t stop turning the page for the next one. Making this, in a way, super meta.
It’s a hooky read, leaving you constantly on edge and wanting for more.
As her debut novel, Burke wrote a book undeniably topical, strong and smart; and she delivers it an equally memorable way, letting Natalie spiralling into an extravagant social media mania and, ultimately, insanity.
The twist
If the writing wasn’t enough to keep you entertained, the constant looming of the revelation of the how and why she ended up stuck in the past will.
I did not see it coming. I audibly gasped. The book almost fell of my hands in shock.
For the ending is utterly brilliant: a cocktail of folly, disturbing ignorance and biting parody which serves both as a caution as well as giving us, the obsessed readers, a twisted sense of sweet revenge.
…which oh boy oh boy I shamelessly felt sososososo deeply MUAHAHAHAH (*unrestrained, slightly unhinged evil laugh of someone who isn’t a multimillionaire living on a heavenly farm with 10 kinds and 27 hidden employees making jam all day)
It actually made me think
Uncalled for evil laughs aside, this book gives you a lot to think about. And there was one moment in particular, at the beginning of the story before… ya know… everything goes to shit for Natalie, where I perceived a kernel of gullible innocence from her. And I actually envied her for it. Envied her unshakeable strong set of beliefs - mind you, toxic and wrong and ultimately dangerous for her and those around her - but that unflinching clarity, that compass to follow… that I envy.
Take this with a pinch of salt, as the story branches out to entirely different paths of madness, but the original, simplistic and almost pure way she looks at the world struck a chord and sang I song of a simple world in me I have never heard.
And I don’t think I ever will.
What didn’t work:
Too many themes
As Natalie’s insanity progressed dangerously, so did the story which quickly spiralled in something hard to grasp like smoke. By the end there were too many themes, and none developed well. She used some great allegories, but this is where her masterful writing style proved to not be effective in leaving an indelible mark on the reader.
For reading Yesteryear did feel like scrolling (yes, another Instagram analogy, indulge me) through perfectly curated posts that the more you scroll, the more you feel getting increasingly more unhinged and tense. But as you scroll they are gone, past the screen into the cyberspace. You don’t linger on them and hurdle to the next one.
Similarly, after finishing this book, it didn’t feel anything really stayed with me, it will not have a long-lasting impact. It felt like a patchwork of moments, not a carefully read text that will leave a mark on me.
In this sense, once again, this book is quite meta, but like all this senseless scrolling, quite without substance and quickly replaced by the next dopamine hit.
She was a caricature of herself
I read this with high expectations, for I - as previously mentioned - am weirdly invested in this trad wives business. My life couldn’t be further from theirs, and yet, here I was: wishing for Yesteryear to be a manifesto against trad wives. Or at worse, an embarrassing smear campaign.
But it didn’t really do any of this. I was expecting Ballerina Farm, instead I was given Nicole Kidman in Stepford Wives. Natalie did not feel real to me, but rather a bizarre caricature of a person wound so tightly she might snap at every moment like a twig. It makes for a good entertaining read, but lacks the brilliance that something like Yellowface had: that amazing ability to take the part of the wrongful protagonist and make you doubt your own briefs.
Here Natalie is ambiguous in her beliefs and has no true compass. She is a poisonous leaf in the wind and we are left annoyed by her existence. I could never get by her side, because she felt fake, and this left me judgemental and spiteful from the outside, rather than challenged and moved from the inside.
Because we don’t truly know what she believes in (and it can’t be what she says or does because she acts out of what she thinks she should believe, which is different) and thus she becomes a caricature of herself. An empty shell repeating stuff like a parrot, even when the people that told her what to say change their mind she is immovable but weak in her drive.
And this disconnection makes her an unbelievable character. She’s like a ticking bomb, a robot glitching when met with something that goes against its directive it’s not ready for - not a real person with feelings that drive her, corrupt her and move her.
I wanted a satire rooted in reality but this went too far to lose believability.
Still, what a fun read. I just wish the past had been more painful for little perfect Natalie… am I a terrible person?
Churn that butter, churn churn churn!!
Sofi🌻
Sofi’s Booktique is the newsletter where i share tips for aspiring writers, ramble about the books i read and talk about the many feelings i feel. if it sounds like something you are into, you know what to do :)