abbie_'s Reviews (1.79k)

I picked up this book in a charity shop as I was struck by its unique cover. When I read the back and realised it was a collection of short stories about deaf characters written by a deaf author, it was a no brainer. While I unfortunately found a fair few of these stories too quick and underdeveloped to leave much of impression, some of the stories are stellar and the work this book does to dispel preconceived notions of what a deaf person should do or should be like is brilliant. These characters party, run away from home, take risks, hitchhike, get high, do crime - and they’re deaf. One of my favourites was Window Washer, following a deaf man who is briefly allowed into people’s homes to wash their windows, allowed to see the detritus of their lives. He’s also often taken advantage of, as clients think his deafness also makes him stupid. A lot of these stories rightly highlight the ignorance and arrogance of hearing folk - why is the onus on deaf people to make themselves understood rather than hearing folk making any type of effort? King Eddie was another good one, centred around a criminal gang, highlighting the lack of legitimate opportunities for deaf people.

Overall glad I read it, very glad it exists, a few too many stories fell short, but an important piece of collection!

Thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for my digital ARC!

I’m always down for a good short story collection, and while I wasn’t blown away by this debut collection, I thoroughly enjoyed my time with it. It’s a very solid collection, all the stories fit nicely together. They’re all slice-of-life, exploring various relationships and dynamics across contemporary Nigeria.  We see mothers trying to marry off daughters, nephews trying to mend an auntie’s broken heart, young boys doing all they can to survive on the streets, little girls engaged in the usual tumult that is tween friendships. Corruption within the church, mental health, classism, reflections on these themes and more can be found in these pages. They’re all very much character driven, as Okonkwo peels back the layers of Nigerian society to lay bare the madness that resides there. That title really is perfect!

Surrealism isn’t for me

Using a random number generator to pick my ebooks in July led me to read two poetry collection in close succession. Like a lot of people, I struggle with poetry but I’m finding that Palestinian poetry collections hit differently than collections tackling other themes/topics/issues. No doubt because of how devastating it is to read poems that highlight the plight of Palestinians at the hands of settler colonialism, all published before 2023 - so before this all ‘started’ according to mainstream western media.

Even the poems that didn’t fully sweep me up had moving lines, and the more Palestinian literature we read, the better to understand what it is to live under occupation. 

I will note that my e-copy had some very distracting formatting errors. At first I thought the words were run together intentionally for poetic effect (an effect I would not have enjoyed), but I quickly realised it was just a formatting issue which is a bit sad! (If someone now tells me that no, it was intentional, my bad and I didn’t like that technique.)

A book I wish I’d been able to read under the tutelage of a really good decolonial teacher/lecturer. As it stands on its own and on my own, I simply felt not clever enough to grasp what Salih was putting across. I did read the introduction afterwards which was quite helpful (and does give away the entire plot), as apparently it’s turning colonial narratives like Heart of Darkness on their heads. It may seem unfair to rate it so low when I didn’t get a lot of it, but it’s more for me to look back on my personal enjoyment of the book. It took me 8 days to read 159 pages so 😅

I’m deep in the crafty zone at the minute with multiple audiobook-friendly projects on the go, so I spent many hours a day plugged into the Tarisai’s world this week. I usually stay away from fantasy on audio, as I get lost easily, but listening to big chunks in one go apparently is a good workaround for that! I was absolutely captivated by this world, filled with magic and intrigue, and I was enamoured with the cast. It revolves around Tarisai and her council siblings, all sworn to protect Dayo, emperor-in-waiting - obviously there’s a big problem in that Tarisai is cursed and destined to kill Dayo. Oops. The bonds these kids share are just too wholesome, and while the romance subplot is quite small, it’s bloody emotional! Almost too sweet - almost. The plot chugs along very nicely, never drags and never giving me whiplash either. Themes like imperialism, misogyny and unity vs uniformity are woven in smartly, not too on the nose and appropriate for its YA audience without babying them. My one critique is I wanted to know more about the underworld, and how children are sacrificed but some somehow survive? I’m hoping this will be addressed in the second book! 

Honestly just spot on fantasy, and I will definitely be reading book two! 

Furious and unapologetic in its tirade against overseas adoption of South Korean babies. I didn’t love the style, although I recognise the short, abrupt lines suit the subject matter, but I did love the content. Julayne Lee’s poems are a rallying cry to render the stereotype of meek Asian women obsolete. Her poems rail against the social stigma that forced many single South Korean mothers into giving up their children, against imperialism, against racism, against ignorant white people. Barely pauses for breath. 

Lighthearted and funny at times, a bit heavy on the millennial humour. I actually have not seen the majority of the media covered in these essays. Perry put the millennial range from 1981-1996 - as a 1995 baby to her 89, I came up about 6 years behind her and was too young and/or uninterested in things like Dawson’s Creek, The L Word (a lesbian faux pas I know, but actually reading this essay makes me glad I haven’t watched it) and Glee. There is unfortunately an essay about Harry Potter, and since this was published in 2021, I feel like Perry could have either cut it or made more of Rowling’s transphobia than just a footnote. We don’t need to be platforming that woman in this day and age.

I did enjoy the essays whose content I could relate to more - I was 11 when Katy Perry’s I Kissed a Girl came out and though the song is objectively terrible for the gays, lord did the video awaken something in me. Something I proceeded to squash down really hard for the next 14 years, mind you. Some of Perry’s other experiences with comphet were sadly relatable in this way - the 2000s were a tough decade to be growing up and getting to grips with your queerness, with homophobic slurs being tossed around left, right and centre with impunity.

Fine, but if you’re looking for queerness and pop culture, I’d actually recommend Girls Can Kiss Now by Jill Gutowitz over this one!

I had high expectations for this classic, refound dystopian novel but I think audio maybe wasn’t the right decision. It was a tad too nebulous, too many turns of phrase that would have been better appreciated absorbed through my eyeballs. It doesn’t help that the introduction basically spoils all of the exciting plot points to do with ‘them’ - so a heads up for that if you also have the edition with Machado’s intro, save it till the end!

It’s definitely an interesting idea - what would happen if the arts were essentially outlawed? Would you risk persecution, even death to carry on doing the thing that brings you joy, fuels you? But I just lost too much of the thread via the audiobook. Oh well!

Thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for my free digital ARC of Private Rites! I’m a huge fan of Julia Armfield’s work, and while I did really enjoy Private Rites, it didn’t pack the same punch for me as salt slow and Our Wives Under the Sea both did. I absolutely love that Armfield is obsessed with water and its destructive power though. Private Rites shows us a Britain that is slowly drowning, incessant rains, rising sea levels, houses flooded, everything sodden and soaking. Save this one for a (non-metaphorical) rainy day and the eerie vibes will be ramped up even more. I loved how she showed the way humans will adapt to basically anything - for better or worse.

The book moves between the POVs of three sisters after the death of their father, a famous architect known for his water-resistant designs only the rich could afford. The climate disaster is not the main focus of the book; rather, the sisters’ lives play out against this backdrop of imminent disaster. All three are queer which I loved, obviously. At one point a minor character says ‘And all three of you are… y’know?’ And one sister replies, ‘Yes, you know in rare cases people have multiple children who are all straight, can you imagine?’ Love it. 

I think that’s the main reason I didn’t fall head over heels with this one - the constant fighting of the sisters slowed down the pace too much. Especially in comparison to the frenetic ending, which I adored. It made the book feel uneven, with all the action packed in at the end.

That said, I still devoured it, loved Armfield’s prose as usual, and loved the eerie atmosphere that felt very much in the realm of possibility. Intrigued to see if her next work will be watery themed too!