Prequel to the amazing novel Pet, but unfortunately I think it’s not as strong or as focused. Narrator Bitter has survived trauma to find solace in art, but finds it hard to justify being an artist in a world full of injustice, corporate greed, and police brutality, especially when practically all of her friends have joined an implausibly well-organized resistance movement in which teens demonstrate against societal racism. Much of the book is spent on Bitter’s self-doubt; it makes the otherworldly spirits and fast-paced action that dominate the last quarter of the book seem jarring. Lots of really piercing commentary on social injustice and human nature, but unfortunately the book doesn’t come together smoothly for me.
Tag: genre-lgbt
Detransition, Baby by Torrey Peters
I was initially meh about reading this book because it sounded like a soapy rom-com, albeit one with a very unique setup. Reese is a trans woman who’s always wanted to be a mother, but her low-income unstable lifestyle makes adoption unrealistic. She gets an unexpected chance when her ex Ames, who detransitioned after a tumultuous relationship when he was living as a trans woman named Amy, gets in touch and reveals that he’s gotten his boss/girlfriend Katrina pregnant; would Reese like to help raise the child? Although it sounds like a fairytale solution, all three characters are deeply ambivalent about the whole situation. The narration actually turned out to be addictively readable, absolutely sparkling with gorgeous phrases and snarky conversation. I know very little about the inner lives of trans women (other than that society makes it so, so difficult), but as the narration jumps back and forth from past to present, I got got sucked into a world completely new to me, and yet so fully realized that I found it amazingly easy to empathize with the characters, especially Amy/Ames who is just a ball of insecurity. Ironically it was Katrina who I found the least able to identify with, maybe because the other two characters were so well-rounded; it felt like Peters did her best to give Katrina a personality, but at the end of the day her primary role in the book is to be the womb. Anyway, it’s a minor quibble; the book was really extremely good.
Phoenix Extravagant, by Yoon Ha Lee
The narrator in this book, Gyen Jebi, is a nonbinary artist who just wants to make art and would rather ignore the intricacies of politics and war, which allows the author to paper over a lot of the details of strategy and occupation. Jebi is a native of an alternate version of Korea, in a region under the control of an alternate version of Japan; as an alt-Korean, they find themselves without employment options as the alt-Japanese crack down on the local culture and language. To their militant sister’s dismay, they pursue a position with the local government, and find themselves unwillingly helping the war effort against their own people; no spoilers but it’s a really pointed reference to cultural erasure committed by colonizers. Jebi tries to find ways to express their rebellion, despite their pacifist artistic temperament and their inconvenient attraction to a certain deadly swordswoman. I really liked the characters, particularly the mecha steampunk (silkpunk?) dragon which reminded me a lot of Temeraire; pity it didn’t show up until quite a ways into the book. Although it would have been easy to make the rebellion into the good guys fighting against the occupiers for freedom, the author instead turns the book into a denunciation of war. Both sides are problematic, violence is terrible, and innocent dragons and dreamy artists are the ones who are the most unready to deal.
The Verifiers, by Jane Pek
I finally listened to an audiobook all the way through without falling asleep! I think this is actually due more to the strength of the narrator, Eunice Wong, who did an amazing job and colored the characters beautifully, than to the book itself which dragged a bit in parts. The protagonist is Claudia Lin, a lesbian Chinese-American New Yorker who works for a detective agency dedicated exclusively to verifying claims that people make on dating apps. She keeps a lot of secrets herself, namely from her mom (who is impatiently waiting for her to find a nice Chinese boy) and her siblings (who think she is still working at the finance job that her brother found for her). Claudia’s narration is peppered with literary and pop culture references, but that doesn’t save her from coming across as annoyingly naive; the mystery that should drive the book is confused and not terribly interesting. There’s a running theme of interrogating the lies we tell ourselves to attract the people we think we need, which gets a bit lost in the unnecessarily complicated plot. What really animated the story for me was Claudia’s interactions with her family; all the characters, as well as their simmering frustrations with one another, come alive in Eunice Wong’s reading, and I liked how their unique inputs ended up meshing with the mystery-solving plotline in the end.
The Outside, by Ada Hoffman
Buckle up, because this is a weird one. In a far future version of our universe, humans have built giant soul-eating AIs and now worship them as gods. Through their cybernetic post-human “angels,” the gods enforce their dictates on the people and root out any heresy, which is belief in a reality that doesn’t match the existing one. This is important because too much exposure to the “Outside” can spread like a virus, destabilizing actual reality and bringing hyperdimensional Lovecraftian horrors from Outside. In this world, autistic lesbian heroine Yasira just wants to make useful scientific inventions and hang out with her amazing girlfriend, but is unwillingly drawn into a battle between her former mentor and the AI gods for control of reality. I loved the prominent role that neurodiversity played in this book, and the recurring point that society is built on lies that we all agree on together.
Witchmark, by C.L. Polk
This was… okay. It’s the kind of book where you get the impression that the author loves their protagonists too much to let anything really bad happen to them, which kind of takes any urgency out of the plot; also, the characters all feel like either wish-fulfillment dreamboats or cardboard cutout villains. The protag in question is Miles Singer, a morally upright doctor who works with injured veterans; he constantly fights an internal battle between hiding his illegal magic gift and the temptation of using magic to heal his patients. Into his life comes a mysterious and handsome gentleman; detective work, light romance, and mortal (but not too mortal!) danger ensue.
Freshwater, by Akwaeke Emezi
This book sits in an interesting spot, culturally. Basically when the main character Ada (or “the Ada” as the spirits inside call her) was born, the gate to the spirit world malfunctioned and the spirits inside her were never truly joined to her in a healthy way. As she experienced moments of trauma and isolation (sketched with beautiful language by Emezi), the spirits inside her took turns piloting her physical body; they took on aspects of strength and caring that helped her get through hard times, but also acted out in unhealthy ways. Because she moved from Nigeria to Virginia, from a world where she would have been considered god-touched to one where she was considered mentally ill, she sank further into dysfunction; after suicide attempts and panic attacks, she was only able to turn towards recovery by embracing her native culture. I found out later that this was autobiographical, which is… even more disturbing considering some of the stuff that went on in the book. If that’s true though, I’m glad Emezi has found a balance with their inner selves.
Portrait of a Wide Seas Islander, by Victoria Goddard
Another companion novella to The Hands of the Emperor, but from the point of view of Cliopher’s great-uncle and occasional spiritual guide. It wouldn’t stand alone well but it provides a nice bit of insight into one of the most opaque characters in the book, and also allows us to see Cliopher from the standpoint of his native culture, instead of seeing him filtered through his own critical gaze.
One Last Stop, by Casey McQuiston
A cute story of found family, making one’s peace with one’s past, and falling in love with that incredibly hot girl on the subway train who turns out to be a punk lesbian ghost from the 70s. College student August, trying to get some distance from her past, finds herself in a community of adorable weirdos who help her get a job flipping pancakes at the local diner. On her commute, she finds herself constantly running into the fearless Jane, who never seems to change out of her outfit, and who has trouble remembering her past. The book juggles their star-crossed romance with side character relationships, family drama, long-buried mystery, and the pressure of paying rent in NYC, while also giving a nod to the fight for queer recognition through glimpses of Jane’s experiences. Plenty of plot holes so don’t think too closely about the details, but for a cozy comfort read, it’s a perfectly good time.
Light From Uncommon Stars, by Ryka Aoki
This book is so many things: a love story to the food and immigrant culture of LA, an adoring paean to videogame and classical music, a coming-of-age rescue of a trans girl escaping abuse, a Faustian bargain involving cursed violins, and also aliens who have disguised their stargate inside a donut shop. Quite often the prose is beautiful, lyrical, evocative… and yet the writing is super choppy, the first person perspective comes across as awkward, and the POV switches so rapidly between characters that it’s honestly really annoying. I liked this book anyway, but I liked it despite the writing style.