This was another recent NetGalley request, chosen because it sounded cute, I love a m/m romance (and a bi one to boot!), and I was prepping for some veryyyyyyy long plane travel. It turned out to be a great choice! 

 

Once Upon You and Me is cutesy AF, in all the best ways. This fairy tale resort setting is absolutely not somewhere I would want to visit IRL, but I really enjoyed my time there in these pages. It's complemented with some very subtle contemporary life nods to fairy tale storylines that are light and sweet, and never felt overbearing or saccharine. Similarly, the romantic touches, like the voice memos reading fairy tales out loud to each other is honestly the sweetest thing I could ever have imagined; what a touch! And finishing with the "fairy tale" of their very own story - my heart melted. I teared up; I couldn't help it. 

 

This was actually balanced in a really nice way with an incredibly steamy - right from the start - and later quite spicy relationship between Ethan and Tyler. It made what could have felt like a cloying story into something that felt much more adult. They were also a great opposites-attract situation, fitting each other perfectly. Plus, I personally love some steam and some spice in my romances. Of note, I thought the spicy scenes were really well-written, no cringe, lots of tenderness and communication, and, of course, hot.  

 

The side characters, Like Ethan's ex/Tyler's boss, Ethan's daughter, and Tyler's sister, were woven in well. They weren't super deeply developed, but they also didn't feel too flat, and they added to the overall world/story in a way that worked for me. I will say, the writing felt a bit uneven/unpolished. There was nothing super wrong, and it sure as heck wasn't enough to stop me from speeding through the book (the story was so good!), but it just wasn't as finished/smooth as maybe it could have been. Perhaps the final edits will help that, since I did read it as an ARC.  

 

Y'all, I *love* to see a late-in-life-discovery-of-bisexuality character, and a bisexual guy too (not a lot of that represented in the lit/romances I've read), so I was all the way here for that. And really, just, oh my heart: such a tender romance. Definitely recommend this for anyone looking for a cozy, but still heated, romance. 

 

“Love is an infinite resource. It constantly renews and replenishes.” 

 

“To me, peace isn’t a mural. It’s a mosaic. Things have to break before they can be rebuilt into something beautiful and serene again.” 

 

“Happy doesn’t need to be the default. Happier could be nice for a change.” 

 

“Their connection, regardless of distance, revives itself in the digital sphere, becoming resplendent and near constant.” 

 

“…he’s okay that ever after isn’t guaranteed because everything that happens next, every moment with Tyler, will be a moment captured happily.” 

 I have read one other romance from Olivia Dade, Spoiler Alert, back in 2020. And I really liked it. But since then, I just haven't picked up another by her. No reason. Just...as always, there are too many books and not enough time. However, when I saw this on NetGalley I requested it *so fast.* I knew I liked her writing and I know I love paranormal romances. So this was a no-brainer (zombie pun very much intended). 

 

Ok so, in this world where the government created zombies to "help" them fight back against newly discovered supernatural forces (werewolves, vampires, goblins, witches, etc.), our MC Edie is just your normal girl trying to make a living by selling her made-to-order fancy soaps on Etsy. But she is forced into teaming up with her insufferable neighbor, who turns out to be an ancient vampire, to defeat a zombie horde that has escaped in their neighborhood. It is exactly as ridiculous as it sounds. And it works, because Dade leans hard into that vibe. There is a perfect balance of plot and drama, wrapped up in interactions and dialogue that are just straight up hilarious. It all was exactlyyyyy what I wanted. 

 

A few specifics. For this Disney-loving (and especially Beauty and the Beast loving) reader, the entire running Gaston song gag was top notch. As we know, I am also a sucker for any  paranormal/supernatural stuff - any iteration, any interpretation, any level of intensity or seriousness. And this new trend of irreverent paranormal romances (see also: My Roommate is a Vampire and My Vampire Plus One), is my absolute escapist perfection. Also, y'all, did anyone else grow up watching The Swiss Family Robinson and Home Alone (the third one, specifically...don't @ me)? Because I did, and it has made me a sucker for a good booby trap ending. And this one was varied and creative and in some cases even funny. 

 

As far as Edie and Max (or Gaston, or his many humorous nicknames throughout), I loved their relationship. Their connection build feels authentic and believable and I kinda like this bubble situation they are in, where the real world does exist around them but there are no side characters to get in the way of their growth together. Again, Dade makes it work. And just when it might seem like too much, or not realistic, we do get a very fun cast of side characters that join for the "big fight finale." Re: the titular zombies. They add a little intensity and spice to the story without it being too much (though content warning for violence and blood and injury, for sure). Speaking of spice, we get some of that too. And it's well written. The dialogue from our MCs is great - snarky and endearing - my favorite. All in all, they are a fantastic grumpyXsunshine, which is a trope I do really enjoy. Final note, and major bonus for me, Edie’s internal monologue (which we get a lot of, because she's our narrator) is non-repetitive, super cogent, and self-aware. I’m here for that level of knowing oneself and refusing to settle for denial and miscommunication and really thinking things through as far as both actions and words from Max/Gaston (I love a good mid-30s romance heroine for that). 

 

Dade’s "Acknowledgments" start with “drafting this book was absurdly fun” and I can only concur that reading it was the same. This had everything I love and so, unsurprisingly, I loved it. 

 

“I can’t control what others do. I can only control what I do, and I have to look at myself in the mirror every morning and be able to live with what I see.” 

 

“There were certain memories too dangerous to touch without some kind of self-protection. Make unguarded contact, and the third rail of your past could incinerate you.” 

 

“Vampires are pansexual.” (YESSSSSS) 

 

“Well, she hoped the end wouldn’t be bitter. But if it was, so be it. Some things were important enough to justify any risk.” 

 

 

 

 

Well, I totally requested this from NetGalley because it was set with/around tarot, and I love that, without really reading too much more…and perhaps I should have given it more research. Or at least read some other reviews... Because this one just was not for me.

Mostly, honestly, it was the writing that did it in. It was just...bad. I mean the concept wasn't anything groundbreaking, but it could have been entertaining, reasonably solid, enjoyable, if it had been written better. I don't hate portal fantasies, messy/lost heroine vibes, instalove/lust, all the romantasy tropes...but this fell short on delivering all of them. The tone (Hannah’s narration/dialogue) felt too flippant and cutesy; or trying too hard?  And Kane’s sexual innuendo feels anachronistic or out of place in the world that was being "built." And I can’t with the “good little girl shit” - also trying wayyyy too hard. The world-building itself was honestly MEH, like it couldn’t decide whether to be the real world set over a fantasy world, or vice versa, and the half-assed both ended up really disconcerting. Plus, it was just flat. The whole “tarot characters are real” thing that is the basis for this novel is basically one dude being named Four, kingdoms named Pentacles and Cups, and a single card that can do magic…like, what? The characters - their development and motivations and relationships - were also incredibly flat, no believable movement or growth. And oooof in general everything was so repetitive. Kane and Hannah's push-and-pull interactions, Hannah's internal dialogue, the ebb and flow of the "I want to save this world vs I want to get back to my own world," it was so gratingly the same, over and over and over. Another issue: the feminism is too obvious and therefore, does itself a disservice. Finally, the ending. What the heck was that?? It’s unrealistic even for a “romantasy.” This whole novel was surreal and not in a good way. When I finished, I literally said, out loud: "Well, that was a book. And I read it." That's about all I can say. 

 

I read the first novel in the political thriller series based on Supreme Court clerk Avery Keene, While Justice Sleeps, a year or so ago. And it was really solid. Good enough that, when I was in the mood for another of its type (which isn’t frequent, for me, but I’m having an escapist-reading kind of year, so this is sooner than I would have expected, tbh), I grabbed this second one. Which, I think, was even better than the first? 

 

This picks up just after the last novel leaves us, with Keene trying to stand against the limelight and backlash that have been following her since she exposed the president’s conspiracy-level shady-ass dealings and involvement with genocide in the name of “national defense.” Now, with that fame (notoriety?) people are coming out of the woodwork to get Avery to unmask all sorts of other suspected conspiracies. One, of course, is legit. And so we get this second novel that does a great job in bringing a new thriller plot, while still continuing the stories/development of the characters we have already gotten to know. 

 

This particular plot was more intense (for me) because it feels much closer to home, as far as the danger posed to the average person living in the US, the threat of what an attack on our electrical grid could do to cripple the nation, and as a woman, and the ever-present potential for a puffed-up jackass of a man who thinks they’re owed everything can do to take away power and ruin lives on a whim. I know this maybe isn’t great, but honestly, I love a “rogue justice” tale when the justice is against the system and it’s in support of women/those with less power…I cannot even be mad about the collateral damage. It’s just satisfying. And in this case, I also appreciated the “our messed-up system creates its own “bad guys”/antagonists” story. It’s not subtle, but absolutely believable and real. 

 

One random thing I noted that is mostly unrelated to the book itself, but has everything to do with psychologically understand people in general and, in a very real way, what is happening politically in the US right now… There was fascinating commentary on leaders getting away with doing (or even supported in doing) terrible things. Because either people supported him and don’t want to admit they were duped OR they were against him and do want to have to own up how much they let him get away with. So, the brushing it away and moving on, or trying to prove it false, or any other ignoring of cognitive dissonance, is easier on the conscious and self-image, even with all the mental gymnastics it requires. Hard truths. Phew. 

 

As far as Abrams writing, the attention to and inclusion of complex details remains strong here. There are so many moving pieces and perspectives in the unfolding of this political thriller and her intellect continues to astound. Side bar: the double meaning title is very well done again. I am glad I had the audiobook to move me through, so I didn’t bog myself down in eyeball-reading all those details. But with the audiobook at hand, I sped through the listen in like, two days. I couldn’t stop. There is so clearly an opening for a third book – with an antagonist that I am glad is still on the table from this novel, and two that I wish had been more permanently removed from the first - and I will definitely be reading it if/when we get it. 

 

 

 

“One of the threats of the modern age was incredulity. Even at the highest levels of power, leaders habitually, instinctively, rejected the improbable as wholly impossible, and they grounded their doubt in a phony pessimism that cloaked blind hope.” 

 

 

I have no idea who it was, and I will feel bad about this forever, but… I saw one post about this romance on #bookstagram. Just one. And I added it to my TBR because the person wrote a glowing review and I like to have romances on deck for when I’m in the mood. And I wish so badly that I could thank whoever it was because this novel was stunning. I’m so glad I flippantly added it to my TBR and got around to reading it! It deserves wayyyyy more hype. 

 

I don’t even know how to describe what all this book did. There was reclaiming oneself after years of losing your identity within another person. There was coming of (later) age and learning you are worth it just as you are. There I redefining relationships between parents (parental figures) and children. There is sexual tension and steaminess. There are shitty cheating partners. There is lost love. There is unrequited love. There is messy love and drama. And there is the beautiful, all-encompassing passion of finding the right person to love. In this case, it’s got that specific and unique passion that comes with both people being artists. 

 

I fell right into all of it. I can’t get over how Black was able to bring is just so many different types and shapes of love. She brings to tangible life the way that love can lift you up and how it can smother you and how sometimes is just hurts, but most especially it can be everything, when it’s a (re)discovering love for oneself and allowing oneself to be loved and learning how to love someone else in a way that works for them but doesn’t diminish you. BEAUTIFUL. 

 

More tangibly, the writing was great. The dialogue was authentic to how people actually talk (such a cornerstone make-or-break for me as a reader), the pacing was spot on (for all the relationships, but especially that central one between Rachel and Nathan), and the drama was at “can’t look away” levels.  I definitely didn’t hate the maturity of the romance either – there were roadblocks and the third act breakup, but the characters handled it all believably and with reasonable communication and I am always here for that. Thematically, the discussions of art and interrogations of the policing of Black women’s bodies/sexualities, as well as some (not wholly original, but more definitely accurate) commentary on political figures and the privileges of old money, were all effectively made and smoothly woven into the greater story. 

 

The romance was compelling and genuine, with a side of the “real life/serious” plot and a writing/dialogue style that I think will appeal to fans of Seven Days in June. I truly cannot believe how this book isn’t being read and talked about more. It was altogether spectacular. 

 

“Tragedy was indiscriminate and ruthlessly patient, waiting until you let your guard down to strike.” 

 

“But what was the point of playing by the rules while everyone else broke them?” 

 

“Love wasn’t a free fall, it was surrender.” 

 

“…instincts were your heart trying to be heard over your head. If you ignored them too often, they would eventually go quiet.” 

 

“But no one got to keep stolen moments.” 

 

“Mistakes aren’t debts we owe to other people. They’re just part of living.” 

 

“Love would be so much easier if it were perfect, if it came to you at just the right time from exactly the right person. But love was rushing to capture dawn with brushstrokes. It was an untouched photograph slightly overexposed and gorgeously flawed in all the ways that made it real.” 

 

“…being in love in selfish. It’s all about how good you feel, and what you want. Giving love is selfless. So no one cares if you want to say the words or not. What matters is whether that person needs to hear them.” 

 

“Hating someone you love only makes you smaller. Those feelings take up so much room.” 

 

 

I think the only person I have seen read/review this is @booksnblazers. And if I remember correctly, 'twas a positive review)...enough to prompt me to choose the audiobook as one of my ALC choices with Libro.fm a month or two ago. And, here we are.

Wolfgang-Smith's writing style in Mutual Interest was a really interesting mix of classic and unique. It's a sort of rhetorical narrative style. Like, not talking directly to the reader per se, but talking as if knowing there is/will be a listener. There's a sort of a self-aware pretention to it that was both witty and high-brow at the same time. A bit of a contemporary writer’s take on the high-brow wit that the classic English lit comedy of manners (a la Jane Austen) is of classic English literature. A cerebral way of commentating on the ridiculousnesses of propriety and expectation, through fascinating flights of thought and reflection on random moments/thoughts. And of course, the glittering and gritty early 1900s boom era of NYC as the setting gave it a "mixed with Edith Wharton" vibe (a comp I am 90% confident about, based on general knowledge, but not 100%, having not read Wharton - yet - myself). Anyways, it was smart and wryly humorous in a way that took me more time than normal to settle into, and I listened to the first half of the book at a much slower speed than normal, but eventually I did settle, and enjoyed the tone immensely.  I liked this novel more, in general, but would recommend this as a comp read for anyone who enjoyed Diaz's Trust.

The framework story, that of the building of a personal care (soaps and perfumes and candles) conglomerate was quite interesting. But the real highlight of this read was, for me, the characters. From our introductions to them as separate beings to their growth into a self-proclaimed "syndicate" (both professionally and personally), I enjoyed watching them find their own ways to buck convention and make a life that matched what they wanted within the limitations of the time/society. Wolfgang-Smith storytelling does a lovely job showing the “we have always been here” truth for identities like queerness and autism spectrum/ADHD, without necessarily directly saying that. While it does put the onus on the reader to draw that conclusion, so it may be missed by those who don’t already see/agree with it, I appreciated how she communicated that message. I also really liked the way she told the story of Vivian, Oscar, and Squire with a sort of butterfly effect of actions/relationships as scaffold for their stories and effects on each other.

I also liked the inclusion of points of lesser known (or at least less famous and, therefore, less known to me) NYC history, as well as the details about the study of scents and their layering in perfuming and candlery. The finale was a (mostly - with one major exception) very internal set of culminating crises that led to an ending that, in its equal parts satisfying and unsatisfying wrap-up, was the perfect fit finale to this tale. Listening to this book was like hearing super high end gossip, like you’re on the receiving end for many really juicy secrets, but have to be quick/smart enough to catch and connect them, and I had fun with it.

“Our subject is change. Some change is so gradual it cannot be tracked with the human eye; some is cataclysmic.”

“A common enough mistake, the hope that a change of scenery will produce a change of metaphysics.”

“Is this love? Do we measure such things by intent, or result?”

“There are no stakes but the global. There is no timeline but the infinite.”

“This was how quickly desperate circumstances crowd out one’s dreams, personal and professional…”

“Consider, then, the solemn, holy, suffocating weight of institutions.”

“And the cardinal insult of womanhood was the fact that […] there was no metric to bypass even the most idiotic of husbands.”

“How many separate chambers should a healthy human mind contain?”

“It is a rare artistic soul, after all, that does not crave patronage or validation. Perhaps these impulses have always gone together - the desire to create, and the desire to be applauded for it.”

“It is not a small thing, to find that one's comforting fantasies are of one's own immediate future - of the life one has arranged for oneself. It is, perhaps, the ultimate dream of every conscious soul.”

“A reminder that not all unknowns were evil”; that some yielded immeasurable happiness - if, occasionally, via circuitous routes."

“There is a certain perverse elation, when we are in private crisis, whenever outside reality finally reflects our inner state.”

“Is it fair, to ask one’s family to read the implied shape of one’s affection in the empty spaces one leaves behind?” 

 

This is my once yearly foray into poetry. Always inspired by National Poetry Month (April), but in this case taking me almost to the end of May to finish. This was a "read one or two poems at a time" kind of collection (or even a "read each poem two times" kind of collection), in order to really ingest them, so it was an intellectual and emotional investment over time. One that I found worth it. And though I am sure I didn't take away nearly as much as one could from these poems, what I did get was big.

Y'all. This collection was stunning. In the colloquial "amazing" sense and in the more literal "I felt physically/emotionally stunned" by it. From the opening, titular, poem, the juxtaposition of violence and wounds with the aspects of the earth/land, evoked through color and connections/desire was absolutely breathtaking (again, colloquially and literally). Diaz brings the land to life in these pages, literarily and anthropomorphicallyThere is so much gorgeous play of form and color and word combinations/vocabulary that was deeply evocative. "Skin-Light" was a standout for me, on that front. And "Ode to the Beloved’s Hips" was an actual master class in metaphor. My god. I also loved "Asterions' Lament" and "How the Milky Way Was Made" for the feelings they pulled from me. And I appreciated "The First Water Is the Body" quite a bit, as I felt like it brought together everything that is this collection - themes and language - unequivocally and beautifully, with immediacy and grace at the same time. The language throughout is just...wow. Diaz's grasp of the way language moves, and the breadth of her vocabulary, is so impressive. It felt, to me, like this is the poetry version of the writing in This is How You Lose the Time War (or vice versa depending on which you read first), in the way that it elicits emotions, but in a way that feels just out of reach. Ephemeral and vivid. 

This collection is haunting and righteously angry in the way it calls out and sheds light and does not soften or back down from the tragic/violent (in ways that are systemic, historical, ever present, desirous/sexual). Yet it manages to do so with truly stunning, painful beauty in the interplay of words and imagery and conceptualization. T

here is sorrow and tragedy here, of land and body and family (especially brother), but there is also love, of land (color and animal and plant) and body (joy in sexual and romantic connection). Just, so so much feeling in these poems: a heaviness, a magic of words that feels both present and just beyond the reader's grasp. Wow.

“the war never ended and somehow begins again.” (Postcolonial Love Poem)

“beneath the hip and plow of my lover, / then I am another night wandering the desire field -" (From the Desire Field)

“If you are where you are, then where / are those who are not here? Not here.” (Manhattan Is a Lenape Word)

“…But it’s hard, isn’t it? Not to perform / what they say about our sadness, when we are / always so sad. It is real work not to perform / a fable…” (Like Church)

“They are only light because we are dark. / If we didn’t exist, it wouldn’t be long before / they had to invent us…” (Like Church)

“The water we drink, like the air we breathe, is not a part of our body but is our body. What we do to one - to the body, to the water - we do to the other.” (The First Water Is the Body)

“I know what it’s like to be appetite of your own appetite, / citizen of what savages you” (I, Minotaur)

“Let us say to one another: I am yours - / and know finally that we will only ever be / as much as we are willing to save of one another.” (exhibits from The American Water Museum)

“What we hold grows weight, / becomes enough or a burden.” (Isn’t the Air Also a Body, Moving?)

“What is a page if not a lingering, an opaque / waiting - to be marked, and written?” (Snake-Light)

“To write is to be eaten. To read, to be full.” (Snake-Light)

 

I have read a few other books by Okorafor already, the novellas in the Africanfuturism Binti trilogy, as well as the YA fantasy series The Nsibidi Scripts. Both were fantastic, with similar aspects of Nigerian history and culture woven into the stories, even while the audiences and vibes for each are quite different. As an adult novel and Africanfutuirsm (as opposed to YA and fantasy), Death of the Author, definitely shares more with Binti, but in all cases Okorafor's themes, inspirations, and writing style stand consistent.

As I said, this very recognizable - stylistically and topically - as Okorafor's writing. And with that, there are parts that are so familiar as to feel a bit repetitive, almost, if you have read other works by her. And yet, it is compelling enough to read regardless. In fact, it was quite the page-turner. And it culminated in a completely new and unique way. I loved how we essentially got two, almost three, stories in one. First, the story of the author herself, Zelu, her life and journey to becoming the writer who created a bestselling novel (one that was turned into a movie and, really, a fan-propelled universe), as well as her story of childhood injury and subsequent life as a disabled person. Second, Ankara's story, in Okorafor's classic sci-fi and Africanfuturism, the story Zelu wrote, about robots and AI. While I obviously don't know her like this, I have to say that some parts of this novel felt really autobiographical or born of very real frustrations about being Nigerian-American and/or the challenges of being a (Black, female) writer and facing the (attempted) takeover of creativity by AI/tech. (To be clear on my stance, I'd like to say f*ck off to AI.) And last, we also get a series of journalism/investigative interviews with Zelu's family and friends, allowing us to see more of Zelu, through the eyes of those closest to her. 

All in all, this was a really compelling exploration of the self and the body it lives within, biologically and technologically and a mash-up of the two. I appreciated the nuance of Okorafor's look into these variations on identity, in ways that were realistic and, humanly, not always complementary. It felt very genuine. Similarly, this was a gorgeously complex look at the layers of family (and especially siblings), the protection and love in contrast to the guilt/shame/pressure..all of which was equally human in its strengths and uglinesses. There was so much in these pages about straddling worlds/existences - robot and human, able-bodied and disabled, Nigerian and Nigerian-American, robot and AI - while still achieved in a beautifully literary and escapist way. 

As far as other major messages, Okorafor highlights the power of connection and relationships and storytelling to make space for opportunity and overcome any adversity (even the end of the world). Speaking of "the end," my goodness that last chapter tho!! My mind is blown. Like, who is actually the narrator and who is the story?!?! I'd also like to shout out the art of the physical book. It is visually ARRESTING. And the sprayed edges?! Stunning. To end, one more time for the people in the back... This is an absolute fire indictment of AI, a war cry of creativity and storytelling as a purely and uniquely human capacity. Aggressive and clear without being condescending. I am her for this righteous anger.   

 “We cannot escape our creators. I keep saying this. You can’t erase that which made you. Even when they are gone, their spirit remains.”

“I can’t be normal, so I’ll be something else.”

“You left your families, your cultures, all that you knew, to come to this complex place with its nasty history, maze of trials, and spectacular opportunities. So you could stretch.”

“…there was a difference between not using something you have and not having it at all.”

“What good was love if she could only see it through a window?”

“...true power was in the harnessing of it, not the possessing of it. And when you were aware of the moment you harnessed power, that was when it was most difficult to navigate." 

“I'd read many human stories about the ugliness of war, the guilt of success, the vibrations of failure.”

“The end of the world is a good place for stories to reside.”

“Create yourself. See what happens.”

“…creativity meant experiencing, processing, understanding human joy and pain.”

“I have come to understand that author, art, and audience all adore one another. They create a tissue, a web, a network. No death is required for this form of life.” 

 

“Promises made when neither party thinks they’ll survive the night are as substantial as wishing on stars.”

I cannot with this series. It's just...addicting.  Like, this is the best escapist shit I have read since Singh's the Psy-Changeling series. And I was realllllly looking forward to this one after finishing the last one. The set-up for Icarus and Poseidon had me readddyyy. And it delivered. Not quite how I expected though. This was an interesting turn in scope here from the rest of the series. It was super narrowed after all the big picture things happening in the last few books. Like no other romances’ characters are really guest starring here and there was very little connection between Poseidon's area and the rest of Olympus. I mean yes, the plot moved forward and some of the Thirteen (especially the 3 legacy titles and Hera) played major parts in the plot movements. But their page time was super limited.  This was alllllll about Icarus and Poseidon. Their open communication and effort to be honest with each other, so quickly, definitely did it for me. And even though it vibed different from the rest of the series, I kinda loved the switch up. The scope change and the  tenderness in the relationship...it had a different feel that I was into (still smutty of course, but it somehow felt less so?). Idk. All I know is that I teared up at the end and this was the first one that made me feel those kinds of feels! I love how popular these inclusive romances are OMG. Rock on. There is just so much source material in Greek mythology; I love how many options there are for Robert to pull from and how she recreates them. Side note, I am loving Circe as the antagonist (though also if you step back, like, she's totally right). I can’t wait to see how her story-arc wraps...though I also don’t want it to be over! 

 

This is a long overdue shoutout to Libro.fm for the ALC...one of the first I ever received from them, years ago. 

A super compelling mix of memoir and social-historical-political commentary written in and with poetry, A History of My Brief Body is one of those books that requires the reader to really slow down and consider each word and phrase, if they are to take away even some of Belcourt’s meaning. Of which, for how short this book is, there is an abundance. There is a deeply intellectual and artistic meditation on colonization, the NDN body, gender (masculinity) and sexuality, racism and bigotry and the violence they engender, the “state,” and the many and varied intersections of these topics and identities. There is also a search for the meaning and manifestations of love, of how to find and share that.

There is no mincing of words (the result of Belcourt's skill and knowledge and experiences, as well as the poetic writing style in which each word must purposefully chosen for the brevity of the overall piece) nor backing down in acknowledgement of hard truths and callings out. And I felt some similarities to Sharpe’s Ordinary Notes, both stylistically and the way that the writing is in conversation with many other writers/artists/philosophers works.  

These essays are a bit dizzying: intense, poignant, and with high expectations of the reader to comprehend. The terror and pain and heartbreak and truth and joy and love and hope, at emotional experiences presented here at the intersection of race, gender, sexuality, and class is a lot. It's a lot in a salient and necessary way. But also a lot that the reader should be ready for, upon deciding to read this for themselves. 

“What is it to live, to suffer, and, above all, to love in an emotionally inflexible world fashioned to produce men who eat 'too much of the sunset?'”

“Memory, it seems, isn’t always material out of which to make art. Sometimes remembering refuses us.”

“Utopia, of course, is an impossible love object. But as such, it is also an incitement to write, to run with pen in hand into the negative space of the future. Would I have it another way? What a danger to creativity, after all, to find oneself fitting neatly into the world!”

“To be a bad girl is to be one of the most furious things in the modern world. To be a bad girl is to be one of the most admonished things in the modern world. A bad girl is she who has rid herself of the brutalities of socialization.”

“Has anyone ever managed not to mold the body into an archive of their own degradation?”

“From nowhere but the graveyard of history could someone marshal the cruelty of denying someone the solidity of everyday life.”

“How to account for the love that bubbles up where it is banned?”

“To tell a story of the possibility that swells up even where it is negated requires a sociological eye, and epistemological standpoint, that is born out of experience, of knowing what it is to be a map to everywhere and nowhere. What's more, to hear this story of compromised living, of joy against the odds, of the repeatability of a history that lives in the bellies of those who reap the spoils of colonialism, as something more than a 'simple' account of a singular life, is to undergo a process of resubjectification, one that requires the abolition of the position of the enemy, the vampire, the one who describes, the settler. You need to read, to listen, and to write from someplace else, from another social locus, a less sovereign one, a less hungry one. All my writing is against the poverty of simplicity. All my writing is against the trauma of description.”

“Trauma, made unspeakable in public, consumes, whittling a life down to the bare bones of emotionality: paranoia and survival instinct. Made to endure too long in paranoia, the survival instinct glitches.”

“Sometimes knowledge is a rope made of poison ivy.”

“Where does grief go when it is barred from institutions of justice?”

“Freedom makes breathing easier; it begets an atmosphere governed by joy, not oppression. Freedom is a measure of breathability.”