Silence, Stigma, and a Story That Could Have Been More

Reading 'All Fours' by Miranda July – Weird and Frustrating.

Honestly, I’m still not quite sure why I picked up All Fours—or why I stayed with it all the way to the end. A mix of stupidity and curiosity, I suppose.

One of the reasons I started reading this book—aside from it being recommended—was its supposed insight into aging and menopause. Having experiencing all stages of menopause myself, I was curious to see how this difficult transition in a woman’s life is portrayed in literature. There are so few books, films, essays that touch this territory with honesty or insight. In fact, there’s still is a noticeable silence and ignorance around this stage in a woman's life. I had hoped Miranda July might bring something new, a portrayal of menopause that was nuanced, honest, perhaps even empowering. Because, I assure you, menopause can be empowering. It’s a turning point where a woman can shed old roles, reclaim her autonomy, and redefine her sense of power, identity and purpose.

Some context. The narrator is a successful L.A.-based multimedia artist – or she has been a celebrated artist when she was younger. She identifies as queer, is married to a man, and they are raising a nonbinary child. She is haunted by generational trauma and loss, her grandmother and aunt died by suicide, and her child was nearly stillborn. At the same time she found herself in the strange fog of perimenopause. All rich soil for a great storytelling. Instead, what I found in the book was a chaotic, disjointed sexual journey that felt both absurd and exhausting

At first, I wanted to empathise with the protagonist, to walk in her shoes. But the further I read, the harder it became. The choices she makes are not only foolish but also bizarrely awkward. At moments it felt more like voyeurism than insight. She seemed, frankly, like someone with too much time and money, indulging whims that bordered on the ridiculous.

Why I kept reading , you might ask. It’s a fair question. Part of it was disbelief. I just couldn’t believe how she could keep making one foolish decision after another. And for what, to get attention? But then again, isn’t that exactly what happens nowadays? People do all sorts of ridiculous things for attention. And more often than not, it works.

What disappointed me most was the book’s superficial treatment of menopause. Menopause is tied to aging, and aging—particularly for women—is still seen as something to resist, deny, or dread. This could be an opportunity to break the cultural silence and stigma, to present menopause not as a private ordeal, but as a shared human experience worthy of expression. This shared experience builds strength. When the silence breaks, so does the stigma. And yes, collective empowerment follows.

The novel had some very good, even rave reviews. Clearly, it resonated with some readers. Just not with me.