This is one of the best first person narratives I have ever read. It fits into the whole French existential tradition of literature. Absurdity is the only universal explanation of this novel's reality. The horrors of the cages, the inhuman relationships of the women, the unexplainable consistency, and the captors, to the last page, remain as unknown as the planet on which they lived.

I liked that as a reader all distraction of details (landscape, characteristics) were removed by Harpman so that my mind was left only with questions. I loved the book's eeriness. That Girl, the protagonist, never knew human contact or the conditioning it created, was very compelling to me. Harpman's ability to name the emotions that would have been cultivated in captivity as well as express those that would have been out of range was phenomenal. I knew the book could end only one way but kept reading in disbelief, that it would risk leaving so many questions still on the table.

I first came across this book almost two years ago at work. I work for a publishing company and we get many sample books. The title and the cover both caught my eye so I brought it home with me and I finally read it this week. Not surprisingly, I could not put this book down. It was beautiful, haunting, and sad. There were quite a few loose-ends that never get resolved, but the story is so interesting and deep that it doesn't matter. I can't believe I let it sit on my bookshelf for so long. I'm glad I decided to save it and read it. It was worth it. This book definitely touched me. I don't think I'll ever forget it.

I read I Who Have Never Known Men over a year ago and it still swims around in my head. It is a succinct, quiet, feminist version of Stephen Kings lengthy soap-opera, The Stand. Although set on a dusty, barren planet, I was left with a feeling of lushness and complexity that the most intricate of settings lack. I enjoy books by women authors of Science Fiction and this my favorite find.

If you've ever wondered what it would be like to become the opposite sex, this may be the book for you. Orlanda is a strange examination of the erotic nature of human beings through spiritual body hopping. The book opens in a Paris train station with Aline, a 35-year-old literature professor who is reading Virginia Woolf's "Orlando." Aline leads a safe and boring life. She has lived in the same apartment with the same man for the last 10 years. Even the literature courses she teaches are beginning to bore her. Aline's repressed libido suddenly jumps out of her and inhabits a 20-year-old man. His name is Lucien Lefrene - a young journalist who lives simply and cheaply. But after the transition of spirit, he renames himself Orlanda in honor of the Woolf novel Aline is reading. And Orlanda - or Aline's repressed spirit - freaks out with his newfound freedom. He immediately develops a taste for picking up guys. He spends much of his time living life to its utmost - eating, drinking and studying. And, like Aline, his mind has an insatiable appetite for knowledge. Eventually Aline and Orlanda meet and discover their intimate connection. They become closer and closer, until they are so close the coupling threatens every other relationship in Aline's life. She realizes she must get Orlanda back into her body, but Lucien resists. He is enjoying his guilt- and hassle-free life too much. "Orlanda" takes an interesting look at the difference between the sexes and the differences within people's own minds. There are some discrepancies - Harpman changes the narrator's perspective several times and occasionally it's too dramatic to take seriously. But it's also a very weird ride into a fantasy of "what if?"