[Ed. – Despite the promising-sounding title, this is not an introspective look into the sillier offshoots of the #MeToo movement — this is The Atlantic, after all — but a survey of how works of fiction by women perpetuate feminist grievance mongering.]
Maybe you watched the president openly mock the testimony of a woman who says she was assaulted. Perhaps you thought about sexual assault — your own, or the ones you know have happened to your friends, your family members. Maybe you’d assumed until now that the world could only be improved; that each generation would get stronger, kinder, and wiser; that women would eventually teach men not to hurt them. You saw progress eking out its path: women listened to, men sent to prison. But then things began to change. And you observed, as Cedar [in “Future Home of the Living God”] does, that the world feels like it’s running backward. Or sideways. Or in some direction that makes no sense at all.
This feels like a particularly strange moment in history, but it’s one that writers seem to have anticipated: The past two years have seen a spate of works delving into the discombobulation of the present. During the early days of the Trump administration, readers sought out dystopian stories that connected the turbulence and the racism and the alternative facts of the 45th presidency with anxieties the world has had before.