Every page brings a new and disturbing meditation on bodily autonomy, personhood, memory, colonization, gender politics, or something else along those lines. It's a fucking lot. Like, we haven't even gotten to the event that changes the course of things for the main character, and we just had a reveal that her love interest (who's not her husband) has a nephew who is actually, secretly, his great-grandfather decanted into a new body with memories intact. Since the word on the street is that people lose their memories when they "body-hop," the MC suspects that this is a convenient fiction that makes the less privileged easier to control. And don't even get me started on this book's imagined politics of body-hopping across borders.