bisexualbookshelf's reviews
793 reviews

My Government Means to Kill Me by Rasheed Newson is a powerful exploration of resilience and resistance, deeply rooted in the historical realities of the AIDS epidemic and the socio-political struggles of marginalized communities. What immediately captivated me were the footnotes that ground the story in real history, making it not only a compelling narrative but also an educational experience.

The characters in this book are raw and authentic from the very beginning. Trey, the protagonist, is depicted with such grit and grunge that the reader can vividly experience his struggles and triumphs. The depiction of poverty and its harsh realities is both heartbreaking and enlightening. It’s difficult to read about Trey internalizing his oppression, but his realization that "Positioned correctly, pawns can checkmate kings" is both empowering and emblematic of the book's central theme.

Newson’s commentary on the AIDS epidemic is both poignant and insightful. He effectively captures the essence of the era, reminding us that bathhouses were among the only safe spaces for queer individuals at the time. Many of Trey’s romantic and sexual encounters remind readers of the implicit dangers of having such limited options, drawing a stark connection between queerness and poverty. This historical context is crucial for understanding the socio-economic landscape of the time.

My Government Means to Kill Me does not shy away from painful truths. The descriptions of homophobic and racist stereotypes are difficult to read, but Trey’s defiance is inspiring. Newson's ability to weave Trey’s sly, resourceful nature into his survival story as a queer Black man is masterful. The narrative also sheds light on the historical practice of gay couples adopting each other for legal rights, highlighting both the ingenuity and the heartbreaking necessity of such actions.

While the book is incredibly powerful, the second half of the plot feels somewhat disjointed. The numerous subplots involving Trey’s family, romantic relationships, and activism sometimes lack cohesion. However, this does not significantly detract from the impact of the story.

My Government Means to Kill Me is a remarkable novel that combines historical insight with a deeply personal narrative. It effectively highlights the themes of political liberation and diverse representation, making it a vital read for anyone interested in social justice and queer history. Despite some minor plot issues, the book’s strengths in character development and thematic exploration earn it a solid 4.5 stars.

📖 Recommended For: Readers interested in the intersection of queer history and social justice, those who appreciate gritty and authentic character portrayals, admirers of historical fiction grounded in real events.

🔑 Key Themes: Queer Empowerment, The AIDS Epidemic, Poverty and Queerness, Housing Justice, Activism and Resistance, Intersectionality, Black Queer Experiences.

Ruby Hamad's White Tears/Brown Scars is a vital and compelling exploration of how white feminism perpetuates the oppression of women of color. Through a blend of ethnographic interviews and personal experiences, Hamad crafts a narrative that not only deconstructs the intersections of race and gender but also calls for a profound shift in how white women use their racial privilege.

Hamad’s book is a masterclass in intersectional feminism, deftly weaving together global analysis to show that the impacts of colonialism and racism are consistent across different contexts. One of the book’s standout aspects is its examination of how the hypersexualization of young women of color is inextricably linked to colonial histories. This perspective is not only enlightening but also essential for understanding the systemic nature of racial and gender-based oppression.

Another powerful element of White Tears/Brown Scars is Hamad's ability to dismantle harmful stereotypes, such as the "angry Black/Brown woman" trope. By revealing the evolution of these racial stereotypes, Hamad shows how they adapt to cultural shifts, maintaining their damaging impact. This critical unpacking is a recurring strength of the book, making it clear that representation in media and art, while not a panacea for liberation, plays a crucial role in either challenging or reinforcing oppression.

Hamad’s critique extends to the cultural appropriation of practices like yoga by white women, highlighting how this co-optation serves to uphold white supremacy. The exploration of how white women weaponize their emotions to maintain their privilege is particularly incisive, showcasing the intricate ways in which power is preserved and exercised. This analysis is essential for understanding the broader implications of white womanhood in perpetuating systemic inequalities.

White Tears/Brown Scars is a phenomenal and critical book that should be required reading for anyone committed to understanding and dismantling systemic oppression. It challenges readers to rethink the ways in which white feminism has betrayed women of color and calls for a future grounded in solidarity and collective liberation. This book is a must-read for those who seek to engage with feminism that truly encompasses all women and feminized people.

📖 Recommended For: Readers passionate about intersectional feminism and racial justice, individuals interested in the impact of colonialism on gender dynamics, admirers of critical analyses of media representation, fans of Mikki Kendall's Hood Feminism and works by Audre Lorde.

🔑 Key Themes: Intersectionality of Race and Gender, Hypersexualization and Colonialism, Cultural Appropriation, Emotional Weaponization by White Women, Racialized Motherhood, Collective Liberation and Solidarity.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the eARC!

"Smothermoss" by Alisa Alering is a chilling gothic novel set against the eerie backdrop of an Appalachian town reeling from a double murder. The story centers on two sisters, Sheila and Angie, whose lives are marred by poverty and family dysfunction. Sheila, the older of the two, harbors resentment towards her half-sister Angie, who is fixated on Cold War paranoia and spends her time drawing unsettling tarot cards. Despite her frustrations, Sheila has resigned herself to her dismal circumstances and does her best to support her family, taking on a job at a local asylum alongside her mother.

The novel excels in its atmospheric descriptions, with Alering turning the Appalachian mountains into a living, breathing character. The natural world, with its wild and untamed beauty, is depicted in vivid, eerie imagery that adds depth and tension to the narrative. The mountains seem to watch over the town, its presence felt in every shadow and whispering wind, enhancing the book’s gothic tone.

As Sheila and Angie navigate the aftermath of the murders, they struggle to be taken seriously by the adults around them, including those involved in the investigation. Their attempts to prove their worth and gain recognition form a core part of the narrative. Sheila, who is coming to terms with her queerness and her crush on a classmate named Juanita, dreams of escaping the town and its oppressive poverty. Meanwhile, Angie is determined to rise above their circumstances, believing that solving the murder will earn her the respect she craves.

The novel’s exploration of these themes is compelling, particularly in its portrayal of Sheila’s internal conflict over her sexuality and her desire for acceptance. The tension between the sisters, their different coping mechanisms, and their interactions with the wealthier, bullying kids in town are well-drawn and add emotional depth to the story.

However, while the book's atmosphere and character development are strong, the plot ultimately falls short. The narrative’s progression is marked by a pervasive sense of unease, but this tension does not culminate in a satisfying resolution. By the end of the book, many plot threads remain unresolved, leaving readers with more questions than answers. This ambiguity may appeal to some readers who enjoy symbolic and open-ended stories, but it left me feeling confused and somewhat unsatisfied.

Despite these shortcomings, "Smothermoss" remains a compulsive read, driven by its haunting atmosphere and vivid depictions of nature. Alisa Alering’s talent for creating an unsettling, almost otherworldly setting is undeniable. If you are drawn to gothic fiction with rich, eerie landscapes and complex characters, this book is worth exploring, even if its conclusion may not tie everything together as neatly as some might hope.

📖 Recommended For: Fans of gothic fiction with a haunting atmosphere, readers who appreciate stories set in the Appalachian mountains, enthusiasts of character-driven narratives with a touch of the supernatural, and those interested in themes of queerness and socio-economic struggles.

🔑 Key Themes: Queer Representation, Family Dysfunction, Poverty, Gothic and Eerie Natural Elements, Adolescence and Identity, Socio-Economic Struggles, Appalachian Setting.

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.

I had so much fun and learned so much reading this in honor of Pride Month with the Diversishelf Nonfiction Book Club!

"None of the Above: Reflections on Life Beyond the Binary'' by Travis Alabanza is a poignant and deeply reflective exploration of gender, identity, and liberation. This book masterfully intertwines personal anecdotes with broader socio-political analysis, making it a vital read for anyone interested in understanding the intricacies of gender beyond the binary.

Alabanza frames gender as an evolving and creative process, asserting our agency and autonomy over it. This perspective is particularly refreshing and empowering, resonating strongly with those who navigate the fluid and often complex landscape of nonbinary identities. Alabanza’s analysis reveals how marginalized individuals often have to align with dominant societal standards to be recognized as "human," highlighting the urgent need for systemic abolition to achieve true liberation.

Alabanza's writing is both lyrical and incisive. They balance humor and self-awareness, creating a narrative that is as engaging as it is thought-provoking. The fluidity and flexibility of their gender identity are mirrored in their prose, which flows seamlessly from personal reflection to broader cultural critique. This reminded me of the nuances of bisexuality, where the insistence on fluidity and non-conformity challenges rigid binaries in a similar manner.

One of the book's most compelling discussions is on the concept of "real" versus "not real" trans identities, which Alabanza deconstructs brilliantly. They argue that these terms are merely placeholders for what cisgender society finds acceptable, a crucial understanding of how societal acceptance often hinges on conformity to certain norms, rather than genuine understanding or respect. The book also tackles the everyday realities and microaggressions faced by gender nonconforming individuals. Alabanza poignantly illustrates how these daily acts of violence contribute to a larger oppressive system, making it clear that liberation requires not just personal resilience but systemic change. 

One of my favorite aspects of "None of the Above" is Alabanza's emphasis on self-determination and collective liberation. They stress the importance of defining one's gender on personal terms, free from the constraints imposed by cisnormativity. This insistence on authenticity and agency is both inspiring and liberating, urging readers to envision a world where gender and sexuality are expansive, not limiting.

In conclusion, "None of the Above" is a powerful testament to the strength and complexity of trans and nonbinary identities. Alabanza's reflections are both deeply personal and universally relevant, making this book an essential read for anyone committed to social justice and the dismantling of oppressive systems. Their insights into the intersections of race, gender, and identity are invaluable, offering a roadmap for understanding and supporting the diverse experiences within the trans and nonbinary community. This made such a perfect Pride Month read, and I would honestly recommend it to just about anyone! 

📖 Recommended For: Readers passionate about gender studies and LGBTQ+ literature, individuals interested in the fluidity of identity, admirers of introspective and personal narratives, fans of "Hijab Butch Blues" and works by Alok Vaid-Menon.

🔑 Key Themes: Gender as a Fluid and Evolving Process, Nonbinary and Trans Representation, Intersectionality of Race and Gender, Intersection of Personal and Political Narratives, Collective Liberation and Solidarity.

Laura Chow Reeve's "A Small Apocalypse" is a stunning collection that deftly intertwines gothic fiction with themes of metamorphosis and queer found family. The stories are a testament to Reeve’s narrative prowess, exploring themes of bodily transformation, queerness, and intergenerational trauma against a backdrop of gothic and speculative elements.

Rebecca stands out as a particularly captivating story. The nonbinary representation is both authentic and refreshing. This story exudes a gothic, eerie atmosphere reminiscent of Daphne Du Maurier's "Rebecca," but with a queer twist that adds depth and complexity. The bodily transformations, from the subtle to the profound, are depicted with a blend of beauty and unease. The exploration of found family and the emotional investment in the characters make this story a standout in the collection.

One Thousand Year Old Ghosts is another story that leaves a lasting impact. It delves deeply into themes of intergenerational trauma, with a unique twist on memory and metamorphosis. The concept of women bottling up their memories to control their rage is both heart-wrenching and powerful. Reeve’s portrayal of memory as both a burden and a source of strength is poignant, and the climax of the story is cathartic and gut-wrenching.

The rest of the collection is equally compelling, with each story contributing to a rich tapestry of interconnected themes and characters. Reeve’s writing is marked by its lyrical prose and intricate storytelling, making each narrative feel both self-contained and part of a larger, cohesive whole.

The recurring motif of transformation is explored in various forms throughout the collection. Whether through physical metamorphosis or emotional and psychological changes, Reeve examines how our bodies and identities are in constant flux. This theme is not only a source of horror but also of beauty and empowerment, offering a nuanced perspective on change and growth.

The theme of queerness is central to many of the stories, providing a lens through which characters navigate their identities and relationships. The depiction of queer found family is particularly powerful, showcasing the strength and resilience that comes from community and solidarity. This aspect of the collection is both heartwarming and thought-provoking, highlighting the importance of chosen family in the face of societal oppression.

In conclusion, "A Small Apocalypse" by Laura Chow Reeve is a masterful collection that balances gothic fiction with poignant explorations of queerness, bodily transformation, and intergenerational trauma. While there were some standout stories, the collection as a whole is a cohesive and powerful narrative journey. Reeve's lyrical prose and intricate storytelling make this an absolute must-read, deserving of five stars and a top spot on any reading list.

📖 Recommended For: Devotees of gothic fiction with strong queer and nonbinary representation, readers interested in body horror, admirers of interconnected short story collections, Fans of “It Came From the Closet” and Abby Geni’s “The Body Farm.”

🔑 Key Themes: Queer and Nonbinary Representation, Bodily Transformation, Queer Found Family, Intergenerational Trauma, Biracial Representation, Gothic and Speculative Elements, Memory and Healing.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the eARC!

Ananda Lima’s "Craft: Stories I Wrote for the Devil" is a bold and evocative anthology that delves deep into themes of oppression, immigration, and identity, particularly focusing on Brazilian American experiences. This collection of short stories, interspersed with interludes from the perspective of a fictional author who has slept with the devil, offers a unique exploration of desire, sin, and the power of storytelling.

From the very beginning, Lima hooks readers with her lyrical prose and intriguing premise. The devil, depicted as a complex character who is not outright evil but exudes a palpable sense of danger, brings a compelling tension to the narrative. His declaration that "stories were more than knowing things, facts. There was no soul in that. It was in the telling and the words, the spaces between them," highlights the collection’s thematic core and sets the tone for the poetically tense nature of the stories.

Lima’s depiction of the devil as someone who "tends to want most what he can’t have" ties desire intricately with Christian notions of sin, which adds nuance to the storytelling. The political themes woven throughout the anthology, such as antiracism and anticapitalism, are handled with finesse, making the collection not just a literary work but a socio-political commentary.

However, not all stories hit the mark. Some seem disjointed and fail to fit cohesively within the collection. Despite this, Lima's exploration of the devil’s love for stories and her humorous yet critical depiction of America offer fresh and thought-provoking perspectives.

Overall, while "Craft: Stories I Wrote for the Devil" excels in its poetic prose, political themes, and vivid imagery, it occasionally falters in coherence. Some stories shine brilliantly on their own but feel disconnected from the central narrative thread. Nonetheless, Lima’s anthology is a significant contribution to contemporary literature, offering a rich tapestry of stories that challenge and provoke.

📖 Recommended For: Fans of lyrical and politically charged short stories, Enthusiasts of Brazilian American representation, Admirers of mythological and supernatural elements in fiction.

🔑 Key Themes: Political Liberation and Anti-Fascism, The Complexity of Desire and Sin, Anti-Racism and Anti-Capitalism,The Power of Storytelling and Narrative, Cultural and National Identity.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the eARC! 

Nina St. Pierre's “Love is a Burning Thing” is a captivating memoir that ignites on multiple levels. It's a poignant exploration of a daughter seeking to understand the enigmatic and troubled life of her mother, a woman who twice set herself ablaze in acts of self-immolation. St. Pierre transcends the boundaries of a traditional memoir, weaving her personal narrative with a sharp decolonial and class-conscious critique of New Age movements and California history.

This book resonated deeply with me, and I suspect it will with other eldest daughters of mothers battling mental illness. St. Pierre navigates the complexities of parentification and enmeshment, portraying her mother not as a caricature of good or evil, but as a deeply flawed human being. This nuanced portrayal avoids demonization and pathologization, instead seeking empathy, a quality often reserved for "likable" victims. As St. Pierre states, "We need victims to be likable. To receive compassion, we need hurt women to remain docile and needy." By refusing to paint her mother by a single brushstroke, St. Pierre offers a refreshingly honest and pro-survivor perspective.

“Love is a Burning Thing” doesn't shy away from the darker aspects of St. Pierre's upbringing. Her mother's mental illness often translated into housing instability, a layer that underscores the book's subtle anticapitalist message. St. Pierre delves into the history and meaning of self-immolation, questioning the generational patterns often associated with trauma. The exploration is courageous and insightful, ultimately leading St. Pierre to ask a profound question: are daughters destined to repeat the mistakes of their mothers?

St. Pierre's prose is both evocative and elegant, carrying the reader through her introspective journey. Her reflections are insightful and timely, offering validation and empowerment for those who have grappled with similar experiences. The book is particularly compelling for those raised by a mentally ill parent, offering a sense of solidarity and shared understanding. St. Pierre's refusal to individualize blame within her narrative is particularly powerful. She skillfully locates the roots of her dysfunctional childhood within the societal and cultural systems that shaped her mother.

“Love is a Burning Thing” is a powerful testament to the resilience of the traumatized and mentally ill. St. Pierre's journey of self-discovery is one of courage, compassion, and ultimately, liberation. This book is a must-read for anyone who has ever questioned their place in the world, particularly eldest daughters of mentally ill mothers, and anyone interested in the complexities of family dynamics and the allure (and pitfalls) of New Age spirituality. Thank you, Nina, for this fiery book - I can’t wait for the next one.

📖 Recommended For: Readers of introspective and honest memoirs, Those interested in exploring New Age movements and mental illness, Enthusiasts of dysfunctional family representation, Fans of Tara Westover's “Educated” and Chelsea Bieker’s “Godshot.”

🔑 Key Themes: Intergenerational Trauma and Healing, Deconstructing New Age Mysticism, Eldest Daughter Syndrome, Ending the Cycle, Empathy Over Pathologization.

Emily Austin’s "Interesting Facts About Space" introduces readers to the quirky, anxiety-ridden, and darkly humorous character of Enid. From the very first pages, Enid’s personality leaps off the page, captivating readers with her relatable fears and unique coping mechanisms. While the book grapples with complex themes like PTSD and autism, it also dives into the emotional intricacies of human relationships and personal growth.

Enid’s character is a rich tapestry of contradictions. Her anxiety and dark humor make her both relatable and compelling, while her paranoia and morally dubious choices—like having an affair with another woman’s wife—add layers of complexity. Austin’s portrayal of Enid’s struggle to navigate her various roles to appear 'normal' is particularly poignant and indicative of autistic traits, which resonates deeply with neurodivergent readers.

One of the most touching aspects of the novel is Enid's relationship with her mother. This bond provides a stabilizing force in Enid’s tumultuous life, highlighting the importance of familial support in the face of mental health challenges. The depiction of Enid’s mother’s grief and her efforts to raise a disabled, neurodivergent child on her own adds a layer of emotional depth to the story.

The narrative’s structure, however, is a bit uneven. The first third of the book feels overloaded with various subplots—Enid's half-sisters, her job, her mother, her paranoia, her self-loathing, and her dating life. This initially makes the story feel disjointed and slow to start. Yet, once the focus sharpens,

particularly around the second date with Polly when Joan appears

, the pace and tension build effectively.

While the book excels in many areas, it also stumbles in some significant ways.

The subplot involving Vin, who secretly stalks Enid under the guise of concern, is particularly problematic.

This revelation feels like an unnecessary twist that undermines the book’s earlier achievements.

Vin's actions, which include gaslighting and dismissing Enid’s fears, are deeply troubling and, for some readers, can overshadow the book’s positive aspects.

Another point of contention is the portrayal of Cognitive Reprocessing Therapy (CRT). As a trauma therapist in training, I find this therapy controversial due to its potential to retraumatize patients by forcing them to confront walled-off memories. While Austin’s representation might be accurate to her or Enid’s experience, it risks misleading readers about the general efficacy and safety of such treatments.

In summary, "Interesting Facts About Space" shines in its representation of autism and PTSD, and its exploration of Enid's inner world and relationships. The dark humor and unique quirks of Enid’s character are major strengths. However, the problematic subplot

with Vin

and the contentious depiction of therapy methods detract from the overall impact. Despite these flaws, Austin's ability to create a deeply felt, introspective narrative makes this book a worthwhile read for those interested in complex, character-driven stories.

📖 Recommended For: Readers who enjoy character-driven narratives, Fans of dark humor and quirky characters, Admirers of psychological and emotional depth, Those interested in autism and PTSD representation, Lovers of intricate and metaphorical storytelling.

🔑 Key Themes: Mental Health and Coping Mechanisms, Familial Relationships and Support, Paranoia and Intuition, Self-Discovery and Personal Growth, Autistic and PTSD Experiences.

Thank you to NetGalley and Algonquin for the eARC!

Bronwyn Fischer’s debut novel, "The Adult," plunges readers into the tumultuous world of Natalie, a freshman navigating the uncertainties of college life. From the outset, Fischer’s prose captivates with its lyrical quality, painting vivid images of Natalie’s internal struggles and the new, intimidating environment she finds herself in. However, despite its beautiful prose, the novel's stream-of-consciousness style and certain plot elements may not appeal to all readers.

Natalie’s journey begins with a sense of dislocation and aimlessness, encapsulated in her late arrival to her first lecture and her subsequent wandering around campus. Her encounter with Nora in the park, while attempting to compose a nature poem, serves as a catalyst for the story. Nora, with her enigmatic presence, draws Natalie into a complex web of emotions and dependency. This relationship becomes the central focus of the novel, highlighting the intricate and often troubling dynamics of power and consent.

The secondary characters, Clara and Sam, add depth to Natalie’s college experience. Clara, her dorm neighbor, offers a semblance of normalcy and friendship, while Sam’s misogynistic advances add tension and highlight the broader societal issues Natalie faces. These interactions emphasize Natalie’s desperation to find her place and impress those around her, a theme that resonates with many young adults.

One of the novel’s strengths lies in its exploration of queer relationships and the nuances of consent. Fischer delves into the gray areas of these themes with sensitivity and insight, making "The Adult" a thought-provoking read for those interested in the complexities of human connections and personal growth. However, the novel is not without its flaws. The stream-of-consciousness narrative, while beautifully written, can feel slow and meandering, potentially alienating readers who prefer a more structured plot. Additionally, the anticipated plot twist around the 80% mark may seem predictable to some, diminishing its impact. The abrupt time jump from the penultimate chapter to the final one leaves certain plot points unresolved, which might frustrate readers looking for a more satisfying conclusion.

Despite these critiques, Fischer’s prose shines through, particularly in moments of introspection and descriptive passages. Her ability to convey Natalie’s inner world and the ambiance of her surroundings is noteworthy. This poetic style, reminiscent of C Pam Zhang’s evocative yet sparse writing in "How Much of These Hills Is Gold," adds a layer of beauty to the narrative.

Overall, "The Adult" is a commendable debut that, despite its pacing and structural issues, succeeds in portraying the raw, often painful transition from adolescence to adulthood. It is particularly well-suited for readers who appreciate introspective, character-driven narratives and those invested in the exploration of queer identities and relationships.

📖 Recommended For: Readers who enjoy character-driven stories, Fans of lyrical and evocative prose, Admirers of Stream-of-Consciousness Narratives, Those Interested in Complex Queer Relationships and Power Dynamics.

🔑 Key Themes: Power Dynamics and Consent, Queer Relationships, Self-Discovery and Identity, College Life and Transition to Adulthood, Inner Turmoil and Emotional Growth.