Flawed characters come to life in novel about women finding their own voices

To call The Female Persuasion a #MeToo novel is overstating it, but the plot of Meg Wolitzer’s latest book is set in motion by an episode that has become all too familiar as women share their stories of sexual assault and patriarchal privilege.

At a small Connecticut college in 2006, a freshman frat brother is harassing his female peers. After one public incident, his victims come forward en masse, forcing the college to take action.

A disciplinary hearing is held, the frat brother apologises for “repeated misunderstanding of social cues”, is sent for three miserly counselling sessions to address his poor “impulse control” and that’s supposed to be the end of it.

Hence, why Greer Kadetsky, one of the victims, finds herself venting her anger during a Q&A with Faith Frank, a 63-year-old Gloria Steinem-esque figure, author of a famous 1980s feminist bestseller.

This encounter marks the beginning of a mentorship that directs Greer’s life for the next decade.

Unlike the tract with which it shares a title, Wolitzer’s novel doesn’t offer readers a feminist manifesto and to try to look for one is to miss the beauty of what it does do. That both Greer and Faith find their integrity questioned when they’re caught between the personal and the political doesn’t exactly come as a surprise.

But this is testament to the skill with which Wolitzer (below left) handles the psychologies of her characters, bringing to life living, breathing, flawed people on the page.

No right way to be a feminist comes out on top. Faith’s most powerful years are behind her, she’s a relic of the second wave and even Greer’s eventual contribution to the cause — a Lean Instyle manifesto of her own called Outside Voices that encourages women to speak up — seems immediately outdated.

All is not lost, though; progress is made, even if it’s in the least expected of places. Greer’s clever high school boyfriend, Cory, gives up his high-flying consultancy career to care for his mother after a family tragedy, embracing domestic responsibilities in a manner completely alien to generations of men before him.

The message seems to be that the small-scale actions of an individual can often do more to change the status quo than all the well-meant grand gestures in the world.