Many months ago the book The Host by Stephenie Meyer was on my bedside table. I cannot say it was a 'page-turner', but the premise and the sensitive portrayal of a human unwillingly hosting another within herself was haunting for me to say the least. Immediately after finishing, it seemed obvious this was a book I needed to blog about, but could not. The feelings of sadness it created were too raw.
It took months before I could bring myself to sit and ponder how powerfully the book affected me.
The host is a human female living in a ficton where the earth has been invaded stealthily by aliens who have no other existence but as a parasite. Inserted into a human, they take over the conscious control of the body, eliminating the previous consciousness; well, usually eliminating it.
Meyer's portrayal of the inner conflict between Melanie and Wanderer (the invader) kept me reading, anxious to see how the author would find resolution. She somehow managed to capture the horror, the struggle, ultimately the respect and love between those two personalities I understand so well from my own inner life. The parallel of a female subsumed by an alien control (in my case a male persona imposed by societal pressures) was obviously an irresistible hook. What surprised and ultimately crushed me was a 'happy ending' in which miraculously both personalities manage to triumph, something that cannot happen in my world.
I won't see the movie.