Review: The Book Eaters, by Sunyi Dean

 

Out on the Yorkshire Moors lives a secret line of people for whom books are food, and who retain all of a book's content after eating it. To them, spy novels are a peppery snack; romance novels are sweet and delicious. Eating a map can help them remember destinations, and children, when they misbehave, are forced to eat dry, musty pages from dictionaries.
Devon is part of The Family, an old and reclusive clan of book eaters. Her brothers grow up feasting on stories of valor and adventure, and Devon—like all other book eater women—is raised on a carefully curated diet of fairytales and cautionary stories.
But real life doesn't always come with happy endings, as Devon learns when her son is born with a rare and darker kind of hunger—not for books, but for human minds.

This was phenomenal. Sunyi Dean's The Book Eaters skirts the horror genre with its visceral description of the way mind eaters feed, but the real horror comes from the isolation of book eater women and the exploitation of their lives and their reproductive system: since book eaters are a dying species and very few women are born, the women get carted off to various families to produce children, until they become infertile and are brought back to the family they were born in. Every once in a while the babies aren't normal book eaters, but are instead mind eaters, feeding on brains: considered monstrous and once killed, they are now exploited as well, as dangerous enforcers, and kept in place by drugs and by a violent organization that abuses its own enforcers.

The subject matter is incredibly dark, but the book is filled to the brim with hope, impossible and everlasting, showing how the power of stories can help breaking free from a restrictive upbringing. Even when trapped, the protagonist Devon keeps her wits about her, willing to do anything in order to survive and to keep her son alive. This brings her to villanous extremes as well, but all the same, you can't help rooting for her to find peace.

For most of the book, it's very difficult to find any positive interation for Devon, leading to thinking of this book as very bleak. But small pockets of light finally shine through: in her friendship with the brother of her second husband, who shows her kindness and acceptance in a terrible household; in the growing relationship with another book eater woman, who's perhaps leading her towards salvation, and in the acceptance of the attraction between them; in the incredibly complex relationship with her son. Scattered throughout are a few chapters from the point of view of Devon's brother, and they feel incredibly violent and intrusive, not only because of their shattered relationship, but also because of what became of him due to a childhood indiscretion. It's the system of the Families, though, of this terrible patriarchy, that is the real villain in the book.

The setting was intriguing; the book eaters live among us, sequestered away in large mansions, and they don't usually mix with humans. There's no explanation given, no origin story; a chapter's epigraph suggests that it might either be aliens or magic.

The Book Eaters is an exploration of motherhood and womanhood that keeps the reader hooked.

✨ 4 stars