Thank you to the publisher for the gifted copy!

Unfortunately, this book is not the one for me. It’s written by two white, cishet women journalists who describe their findings as “explosive” within the first few sentences. The authors don’t make any effort to use gender inclusive language and somehow get through the first 30 pages without mentioning race once. Considering that these things make this book pretty out of alignment with my values and general worldview, as interested as I am in the facts that lay within it, it didn’t feel worth 500 some pages. 

I was doing this on audio, which often doesn't work well for me. It's been weeks since I was interested in listening to it, so I'm calling it a DNF for now. This also has a lot of detailed triggering content relating to sexual violence and self-harm, which may be why I've been disinclined to pick it back up. I'd like to revisit it via physical or eBook, but it may have to wait until I have a healthier relationship with my nervous system. 

There's nothing wrong with this, it just wasn't working for me on audio! May revisit in the future via a physical or eBook

A potential soft DNF?

A funny thing happened to me a few years ago: I love to read books that reflect my own experiences with trauma, which is why mommy issues books are some of my favorites. There was a point in my life where mommy issues books were essentially all I was reading. I was also finding myself having to pretty constantly pause my reading to vomit during these books. For some reason, I didn’t put two and two together myself, but my mental healthcare team did. My psychiatrist and therapist ganged up on me and told me I was reading too many books about trauma, physically hurting myself by inducing so much vomiting, but also limiting my healing journey by casting everything through other peoples’ perspectives, rather than just being with my experience and feelings. Since then, I’ve been limiting the books I read that might be a little too similar to my own trauma. 

The only things I knew about this book when I picked it up were that it was by Melissa Broder and it featured Jewish characters. Digging into the book, it turns out the main character is dealing with severely disordered eating after a childhood of calorie restriction inflicted by her mother. This is a big no-no for me, and I had to immediately fly out of bed last night while reading to hurl. 

I love Melissa Broder. I love her unhinged and unapologetic FMCs. I was really enjoying this one, especially the fat representation and the subtle pro-🇵🇸 vibes. But alas, the body keeps the score, and mine is saying no. Perhaps I will revisit this one when I have a healthier relationship with my nervous system. 

In the intro, the author mentions that she analyzes fairytales through a disability rights framework. Disability rights is different than and outdated compared to disability justice. There are gaps in the disability rights framework that ultimately still leave disabled people vulnerable to harm. Disability justice fills in these gaps. I’m not super interested in and do not think I will benefit from Leduc’s disability rights lens.

I poked around some reviews online to help guide my DNF decision. Several mentioned that this runs more memoir than analysis, which is not why I picked up this book. Additionally, one reviewer mentioned an extremely problematic chapter about sex work, which is out of alignment with my values. You can read the review here: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/4712421261.

I’m going to read Alice Wong’s Disability Visibility instead!

This was written in 2017, so maybe that accounts for why, but I don't really agree with a lot of Vitale's framing/perspectives in this. I appreciated that he highlighted how police violence affects neurodivergent people and people experiencing houselessness, but in both chapters on these topics, he mentions how these populations are burdens on society and how that burden needs to be alleviated, just not by police - not very disability justice/housing justice of him, and certainly not how I feel about my mad, crip, and houseless neighbors. I also didn't feel this book was very abolitionist. While Vitale SAYS reform is not the answer, all his visions for the future involve reforming the current system of law enforcement rather than abolishing it and building something radically different in its place. If you're interested in specific statistics and numbers on police violence and why all cops are bastards, this book is full of those. Otherwise, I wouldn't recommend it. 

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the eARC!

This was way too stream-of-consciousness / all vibes, no plot for my taste. Ottessa Moshfegh fans will love this one.

Around page 45, the narrator has a sex dream about one of her middle school students. She states that she senses in the dream that the student is 18 years old and, therefore, it's not pedophilic. Still felt pedophilic to me. No thanks.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the eARC.

We Were the Universe by Kimberly King Parsons delves into the raw, unfiltered experience of motherhood through the eyes of a hyper-sexual, bisexual narrator. The book's exploration of the loneliness and chaos inherent in motherhood draws parallels to much contemporary women’s literature. However, despite its intriguing themes and moments of engaging prose, the novel ultimately falls short in several critical areas.

The novel's stream-of-consciousness writing style is both its strength and its downfall. While it effectively captures the protagonist's chaotic inner world, the constant shift between real-time interactions with her daughter and flashbacks to her past creates a disjointed narrative. This back-and-forth pacing can be jarring, making it difficult for the reader to stay engaged with the storyline. The long, uninterrupted chapters exacerbate this issue, contributing to a sense of narrative whiplash that detracts from the overall reading experience.

Another significant aspect that impacts the book's appeal is the portrayal of the narrator's bisexuality. The hyper-sexual depiction of the protagonist feeds into harmful stereotypes, reducing her sexuality to mere behavior rather than a multifaceted aspect of her identity. This approach not only feels voyeuristic but also undermines the complexity and depth that could have been explored in her character. The narrator's constant objectification of others adds to the discomfort, making it difficult to connect with her on a deeper level.

Character development in We Were the Universe is another area where the novel struggles. The narrator's actions and attitudes often feel inconsistent and underdeveloped. For example, her insistence on being a stay-at-home mom is contradicted by her resentment toward her husband's life outside the home. This inconsistency, combined with the lack of substantial growth or insight into her character, leaves the reader feeling disconnected and uninvested in her journey.

Despite these critiques, there are moments in the novel that shine. Parsons' ability to articulate the existential void of motherhood and the feral nature of the protagonist's desires offers a raw, unfiltered look at the complexities of modern womanhood. These glimpses of brilliance, however, are overshadowed by the chaotic structure and stereotypical representation that dominate the narrative.

Ultimately, We Were the Universe is a novel with potential that is hindered by its execution. The stream-of-consciousness style, while evocative, becomes tiresome and disorienting. The stereotypical portrayal of bisexuality and the inconsistent character development further detract from the book's impact. At 23% of the way through, it became clear that this book would not surpass a three-star rating for me, leading to my decision to stop reading.

For readers who enjoy deeply introspective and chaotic narratives, We Were the Universe might still hold appeal. However, those looking for a more coherent plot and nuanced character exploration may find themselves similarly disappointed.

Thank you to the publisher and author for the gifted ARC. 

In "Kissing Girls on Shabbat" by Dr. Sara Glass, the author offers a candid exploration of accepting her queerness within the context of being raised in Hasidic Judaism. However, my experience with the book was cut short due to concerns regarding the author's discussions of Israel.

In her author's note, Glass delves into the historical context of psychotherapy and questions the dominance of white male ideologies in the field. She touches on themes of decolonization and liberation, which initially intrigued me. However, as I delved further into the book, I encountered numerous uncritical references to Israel, including Glass's experiences studying there and her sister's marriage to an IDF veteran.

While Glass discusses themes of decolonization and liberation in reference to her own experiences, her silence on the issue of Israel's colonialism and genocide in Palestine felt glaring. Despite acknowledging the colonial roots of psychotherapy, Glass fails to extend this critical analysis to the situation in Palestine. This omission is particularly troubling given the ongoing violence, especially considering the book's publication timeline coinciding with recent events.

The author's failure to address the complexities of Israel's actions perpetuates a pattern of silence and complicity in these oppressive processes. As someone committed to anti-colonialism and solidarity with Palestine, I found this out of alignment with my values. While I acknowledge that the author may not have intended to endorse Israel's actions, her silence ultimately contributes to the erasure of Palestinian experiences.

In conclusion, "Kissing Girls on Shabbat" raises important questions about queer liberation and empowerment within ultra-conservative communities. However, the author's failure to engage with the issue of Israel's colonialism detracts from its overall impact. As a reader with anti-colonial and Pro-Palestine values, I chose to discontinue reading the book due to this significant oversight.

DNF at 11%

Immediate turn-off: Multiple uses of the R and F slurs and several antisemitic comments. I understand this is historically accurate to the era, and I can even maybe be okay with the F slurs as some form of reclamation since Maggie is queer, but the R slurs and antisemitism were unnecessary and not used in a critical way.

I understood, based on the book description, that childhood sexual assault would play a role in this. However, since the description implies the accusations of assault were false, I wasn’t expecting to read descriptions of sexual abuse of children. The trial against Lacey’s parents features as a main plot point in the first section of the book, and it’s peppered with descriptions of the sexual abuse the kids claim to have suffered. Quite triggering.

Dissociative amnesia/recovered memories and false memories also play a part in this story. I did not feel that Maggie handled them well, accurately, or with care. She should know that, because of the Satanic Panic and other mass hysteria cases in the late 20th century, "recovered memories" had to undergo a whole rebrand in the psychological community to be taken seriously. Yes, therapists can plant false recovered memories in patients. No, most therapists are not doing this. Yes, we can "recover" a memory of something we never experienced. No, most people suffering from dissociative amnesia are not recovering false memories. With the epidemic of sexual violence that continues to plague our world and the high rates of dissociative amnesia among this population, I was disappointed with the way Maggie handled these experiences. Survivors and neurodivergent/traumatized people deserve better.

Reviews from other readers suggest the content of this book remains dark, bordering on trauma-porn. In addition, other readers have critiqued the book blurb, stating that this book is bettered categorized as literary fiction or coming-of-age and does not have the propulsive, thriller elements it was pitched to have.

All in all, there are other books I want to read that I think would be a better time than this.