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I'm starting to think that Margaret Atwood is the Robert Altman of fiction: talented, insightful and utterly misanthropic. I couldn't like Snowman. At the risk of sounding inappropriate and cold-hearted, Jimmy and Crake reminded me of two kids about one bad day away from a high school shooting. Watching live executions, child pornography and twisted sex acts on a YouTube-like website? I wouldn't touch these guys with a ten-foot pole.

I get that Jimmy's parents were emotionally abusive and distant, but that doesn't let Atwood off the hook - you need to solicit empathy in your lead character, as wretched as he or she might be. Jimmy was such a sullen, twisted character that I found myself glad that he was an equally morose boor after the pandemic.

I also didn't find that the sum of Jimmy's pre-pandemic experiences equaled Snowman. It just felt to me like a leap in time from a kid with a crappy life to a man with a crappy life. I can't point out examples without returning to the text, but this was my general impression.

Dystopian futures aren't Disney animated films, but look at this lineup: closet psychopath Jimmy/Snowman; child porn star, Oryx; Crake, the guy who destroys the human race; and Jimmy's insipid parents. I was begging for Bambi to arrive on the scene. My appreciation for the author's technique and skill can only take me so far. If all of the characters are scumbags, I never get invested enough in the story to draw back my veil of indifference.