abbie_'s Reviews (1.79k)

My thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for my free digital ARC of this one - and apologies for it falling through the cracks of my review schedule!

This book is one for lovers of queer, messy fiction. It's autofiction, Edith is a trans writer coming to terms with various kinds of grief - for her best friend now dead, her ex-girlfriend, now marrying a man, and her past life and relationships as she transitions a little later on in life than we usually see in trans fiction. It's well written (though I am with the naysayers on the decision to italicise the dialogue) in that its true to form with life's messiness. Edith and her friends make questionable decisions, don't communicate, feel deeply, and all of that rings true through Burke's writing. But a few months after reading it, I'm not left with the strongest impression. Perhaps one I'd revisit in the future, and I'll definitely be on the alert for more books from this author in the future. 

My thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for my free digital ARC! Gifted by Suzuki Suzumi is translated from the Japanese (by Allison Markin Powell) and about a troubled mother-daughter relationship. On paper, this is the perfect book for me, but unfortunately it didn’t really leave an impression me. It’s only short, 100 pages or so, and so it had to pack a brutal punch which I don’t think it did. It kind of just ~was~. Considering it tackles topics like childhood abuse, sex work, a dying parent, it lacks the emotion you’d expect. It’s detached, likely purposeful, but for me that style didn’t work. I’d probably give this author’s work another go, but sadly this one missed the mark. 

This is a collection I’ve been wanting to read since it came out but never got around to it - so glad I finally did! It’s a really strong collection focusing on Laotian immigrants living in America, their daily lives, their struggles, hopes, aspirations, frustrations, disappointments. We see parents projecting their own ambitions onto their kids, kids rebelling against them, women embracing their sexuality well past the ‘approved’ age, people working jobs designed to beat them into the ground. Beauty standards, white saviourism, microaggressions, patriarchy, friendship, sex, tradition, racism - Thammavongsa really leaves no stone unturned. There are a couple of more forgettable story in the last third, but overall I enjoyed every story in this collection! 

I’m torn on how to rate this one - it took me over a week to read a 368-page book which is usually an indicator that I’m not much enjoying a book or finding it that engaging. But when I did sit down with it and had the time to get into it for more than half an hour, I would become completely immersed in the colourful cast of characters and their antics in 1960s New York. It didn’t exactly call out to me, but when I made time for it I enjoyed it. I don’t feel like we properly got to know the characters - instead they’re all integral to creating the vast, vibrant tapestry that is a New York housing project in the late 60s. Tensions are running high, between Black people and white Italians, between cops and civilians, between drug dealers and old timers. McBride ties all these together in a surprisingly funny, moving, and thought-provoking way. Though it definitely does drag occasionally. 

This book is either brilliant or so self-aware that it’s cringey - it’s straddling that line, but honestly I enjoyed it so I’m going to err on the side of brilliant. Philosophy is absolutely not my wheelhouse so some of the concepts explored throughout each chapter went right over my head. But other parts really stretched my brain and led to some interesting debates with my partner (specifically the Ship of Theseus chapter!). It starts off fairly tame, a young lesbian couple stand on the cusp of a new and terrifying phase of their relationship - having a baby. Their decision is finalised one night when an ant enters Eliza’s eye. From there, things get weird and I like it. There’s alternate timelines, space exploration, doppelgangers, alt-versions, really mind-bending stuff some of it. The chapter narrated by the ant in Eliza’s eye was incredible, made me squirm and feel a bit emotional. I definitely think it’s a bit heavy handed at times, but on the whole, a good book. 

Occasionally I’ll read a drug-fuelled narrative and surprisingly enjoy it (see Arena of the Unwell), and the likelihood of this is increased if it’s queer. Unfortunately, though queer, Zipper Mouth missed the mark for me. I could see there were some flashes of brilliance, particularly the section where the MC accidentally invited a homeless addict home with her and thought she might never leave, but overall it was just confusing, convoluted and a bit try hard. 

The author of this book moved to North Korea from Japan as a boy with his family, with the lure of a promised land. Instead they found a totalitarian nightmare. He then spent the next thirty odd years desperately trying to escape back to Japan. As compelling and harrowing as Masaji’s story is, the way this memoir is written, or perhaps translated, is not exactly riveting reading. It’s very dry and straightforward, with little insight into the author’s inner thoughts. 

Super insightful read into the lives of people living with chronic illness and disability, and how disability justice is something for everyone. Particularly enjoyed the conversation around mutual aid, and how that can look for people with varying resources/financial means. Disability justice isn’t something I’ve read up on much, something I aim to rectify slowly but continually. This maybe wasn’t an ideal launching point, but still, very good. 

Listened to this one for the few remaining letters of my alphabet challenge, and because I was promised two spicy bisexual MCs - which I did indeed get! However, any enjoyment I might have got from Xeni and Mason was killed dead by the dowdy, white British narrator who can’t do a woman’s American accent or a Scottish accent to save his life. I literally googled him though and it says he’s one of the most loved romance narrators and one of the best men for voicing women?! According to whom?! Honestly it was awful, I would have DNFd if I didn’t need it for my challenge. I’ll pay good money to never hear that man refer to a woman’s juices ever again. 

Narration aside, this was a sweet, steamy story which perhaps sacrificed a bit of plot for the sex scenes. Which is fine, I’m not expecting the world. Xeni and Mason’s chemistry was off the charts, and I loved how they supported one another through their respective family drama.

Petition to get this audiobook re-recorded, preferably with a Black woman narrator or at the very least an actual Scottish man. My rating has to reflect my overall enjoyment, which sadly the narrator dragged down considerably. 

Thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for my free digital ARC! Really enjoyed this short story collection overall, although a couple I did skip.

Although a few of them didn’t provide the creepy, gross ick I wanted from a body horror collection, most of them were successful in making me squeamish in one way or another! Some of my favourites were  Apples where a woman is suddenly imbued with the awful gift of hearing men’s thoughts, Bob-a-Job, which honestly I’m not sure what was going on but it was dystopian, gross as hell and great, and Ghost Kitchen by Francine Toon, where a woman is followed by a watery curse.

I also really enjoyed The Smiling African Uncle, where Black and brown immigrants are subjected to microaggressions x 10000, and any who crack are deported. Only those who remain the good, grateful immigrant can stay. But as much as I enjoyed it, it didn’t seem to fit with the others - though racism is a horror unto itself.

I was a bit disappointed by the Mariana Enríquez story, since short horror is right in her wheelhouse, but Daisies was underwhelming. This was also the only translated story in the collection - there could have been a few more to get more worldly horror involved.