THE CONTROL PROBLEM

A woman in near-future America slowly realizes that her life may be under someone else’s control in this SF novel.

Vera Elpis lives what many would describe as a typical life. She has a steady job digitizing medical files at a document processing center and seems to prefer quiet solitude. Yet something is missing; she longs to be a mother, but regular fertility treatments have all failed. In the meantime, she revels in being an “Auntie” to her cousin Jennifer’s son and her friend Sarah Bennington’s three kids. Jennifer is the only family Vera knows; in fact, she can’t recall much before a car accident that resulted in an apparent brain injury. She’d certainly like to know more about who she had been. How, for instance, does she know the name of every plant in a garden? She’s a highly intelligent woman, so why does she have an “impulse to hide” among others who barely acknowledge her existence? One day, Vera’s hunt for answers as to why she’s unable to get pregnant finally turns up something—and it’s a shocker. Vera’s life may not truly be hers, as people have intentionally kept her in the dark concerning her foggy past. This big reveal has a tie to the tech company Perilaus Bionics, where Jennifer works and Sarah did, too, before she became a stay-at-home mom. As Vera continues to dig, she unearths ugly truths but also finds a way, however grim it may be, to regain the personal control that some have stripped away.

Woodsey delivers a hard–SF tale heavily steeped in metaphor. For starters, there are copious signs of realistic tech. Bots pop up almost everywhere, delivering food or cleaning windows, and Perilaus pioneered the use of microfilaments in prosthetics. As the title suggests, who or what has control is constantly in question, whether it’s advanced technology or simply a person. Vera has a manageable life; she excels at work and has no financial woes thanks to an inheritance. But she faces countless daily hurdles, especially as a woman. A male co-worker mocks her for being an exceptional employee, and she gets so much unwanted attention from male colleagues that she tries drowning it out with music in her headphones. Woodsey stylizes this narrative as Vera’s journal, which she begins at a doctor’s behest and maintains for personal reflections. As such, readers will sympathize with her, a woman who craves love while struggling to comprehend the affection Sarah has for her insolent husband. Vera’s intimate perspective likewise makes her perpetually simmering anger understandable as she fights to control it. Her fury stems from both global troubles (for example, massive cyberattacks) as well as things that are seemingly innocuous. As the story progresses, intrigue and a discernible SF element amp up. A highlight is Vera and Sarah’s conversations inside the latter’s makeshift Faraday cage—a basement tent of “metal mesh” and plenty of tinfoil blocking nosy transmissions. It perfectly suits the novel’s growing conspiracy, which leads to a gleefully dizzying final act that, while providing closure, is open to interpretation.

A sleek, absorbing tale of motherhood, feminism, and the potential dangers of technology.