A Simple Intervention, Yael Inokai
Dystopian fiction often conjures images of societies teetering on the brink, often ruled by authoritarian regimes, suffused with overt violence, and marked by the eradication of personal freedom under the guise of order. Classic works like George Orwell’s 1984 and Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale depict oppressive, relentless systems where individual autonomy crumbles under totalitarian rule. Yet not every dystopia unfolds through dramatic spectacle or post-apocalyptic overtures. Yael Inokai’s A Simple Intervention is an excellent example of how a quieter, insidious approach to the genre can be just as terrifying, aligning itself with the subtler, almost benevolent tyranny of Huxley’s Brave New World.
A Simple Intervention exhibits all the hallmarks of a dystopian classic: oppression, social control, human misery, and loss of individuality to collective ideology. Like other popular dystopian novels, Inokai explores the seductive dangers of a society that promises relief from suffering but at a devastating cost. Here, we are offered a view of a world where a ground-breaking surgical intervention promises to free women from psychological disorders. The procedure is painless, has minimal risks, and patients are calmer and more compliant after healing. The doctor promises them a new and productive life, free from suffering – but can it really be that simple?
The story follows Meret, a nurse who works at the hospital with the unwavering loyalty of someone who believes in the system. The hospital is home, her uniform serves as armour, and her job is a firm part of her identity. She dutifully attends to the women scheduled for surgery and feels proud, for the most part, to contribute to this so-called transformative medical progress. Meret even undertakes the role of surgical assistant, supporting the lead doctor, a man of ambiguous ethics who wields significant influence at the hospital. Meret is firmly convinced in her belief that this is the first step towards absolute healing.
But slowly, Meret begins to feel uneasy with the strange quiet left in the wake of these operations; there’s a change in her patients that doesn’t feel quite right. For a while, she is content, setting aside her doubts until, one day, something shifts. She falls in love with her roommate, a fellow nurse named Sarah.
Sarah is kind, impulsive and full of energy. As the two women get to know each other, they connect deeply and intimately, planting the seeds for a beautifully curated love story. It’s a small act, seemingly insignificant. Yet, as Sarah expresses concerns about the ethics of Meret’s work, this blossoming relationship slowly punctures the ridged beliefs that Meret has clung to for so long. Her internal conflict intensifies when surgery on a patient she has grown close to goes catastrophically wrong, forcing her to confront the darker truths of her profession. What follows is an age-old reality: in a patriarchal society, being labelled ‘unwell’ often starts simply with being a woman.
Inokai uses Meret’s slow awakening to unmask the institutional forces dictating the hospital’s ‘care’ regime, revealing a place devoid of empathy and humanity. The questions become impossible to ignore: What happens when suffering, a fundamental aspect of the human condition, is treated as a defect to be expunged rather than understood? How far can the pursuit of a controlled, pain-free existence go before it erodes the very essence of what it means to be human?
Brilliantly, A Simple Intervention doesn’t rely on grandiose set pieces or scenes of outright rebellion often associated with the dystopian genre and instead focuses on the quiet, pervasive methods by which control is maintained, and individuality is suppressed. Inokai’s world is softly spoken and intimate, leaning closer to the familiar than the fantastical. Her prose is, at times, clipped and clinical, enhancing the feeling of a sterile and claustrophobic world and the plot is terrifyingly grounded in realism, highlighting an eventuality that is possible; you can’t help but see glimpses of our world in Inokai’s society.
Inokai also intelligently uses the dystopian framework to comment on the meaning of ‘true freedom,’ arguing that it cannot be obtained through compliance. She delivers an unsettling critique of modern values, challenging us as readers to consider what we’re willing to sacrifice for convenience, order, or the illusion of wellbeing. For instance, the hospital’s surgical procedure doesn’t treat the root of the disorders it claims to cure; instead, it pacifies individuals, particularly women, stripping away human nature’s messy, colourful, yet demanding qualities under the guise of medical progress. The parallels to today’s mental health conversations are unmistakable. Inokai forces readers to question our biases toward quick fixes aimed at soothing rather than genuinely healing. This novel stands as a timely warning, urging caution in how far we allow medical or institutional interventions to intrude in the name of ‘improvement’, and unflinching explores what happens when healing becomes indistinguishable from control.
What makes A Simple Intervention particularly unsettling, however, is its nuanced blurring of liberation and repression, echoing modern anxieties about healthcare, technology, and the growing reliance on systems of authority. Inokai cleverly critiques the treatment of traits society deems ‘undesirable’. The male characters - fathers, husbands, and brothers - engage with doctors in ways that render female patients invisible, reinforcing a hierarchy that steadily strips away female autonomy. The horror simply lies in the ordinary, conveyed in the detached style reminiscent of Kazuo Ishiguro’s Never Let Me Go. Both novels are less concerned with the politics of dystopia and more with the personal, intimate decimation of freedom.
Despite her beliefs, Meret shows an early inclination toward quiet rebellion as she assumes a rare maternal role among caregivers. She humanises patients by addressing them by name - defying the system’s impersonal standards - a simple act of compassion that boldly challenges the hospital's dehumanising structure. Through this choice, Meret unwittingly exposes the deceptive veneer of medical ‘care’ that obscures the erosion of female agency and solidifies patriarchal control. In truth, Meret was a revolutionary from the start; she just didn’t realise it.
Beautifully translated by Marielle Sutherland, this novel leaves you with a sticky sense of discomfort and a new, not-so-welcome perspective on the world. Inokai doesn’t offer easy answers but challenges us to reflect on the systems that shape us, and Sutherland accurately relays this in her translation.
Inokai has masterfully built a world chillingly close to our own - a place where ‘wellness’ masks control, where healing can become a tool of subjugation, and where love might be the only path out of complacency. A Simple Intervention is a fantastic addition to any bookshelf for readers willing to confront the horror of a reality that reshapes its women under the veil of progress and innovative medical mediation. It offers disquieting glimpses into the risks we take when we allow institutions to define what it means to heal while ultimately stripping away what makes us human.
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