Ok, when this came out - apparently like five years ago now?! - it made a huge splash. It was one of those love-hate books that, whether you liked it or not, everyone could at least agree gave readers a lot to talk about with its mess. It's been on my shelf for years now (literally, physically, in my house) and having just read and enjoyed Reid's Come & Get It, it seemed like messy novels are a current reading mood I'm mentally here for. And so...

OMG, y'all, this was possibly even messier than I'd anticipated? Even with all the hype about that aspect. Hot damn. And not like, the fun messy of You Made a Fool of Death with Your Beauty. This was, like, ugly messy. In line with Come & Get It, but still, in my opinion at least, Leilani takes things even further. Edie's attempt to balm her ennui with an affair with an older married man at work, Eric, who is trying out an open marriage for the first time, lands her in a border line unhinged situation. She finds herself living with the family, in their home, going to work at the VA morgue with Eric's wife and helping their adopted daughter, Akila, learn how to care for her hair because she has literally no one else in their all-white home and community to do so. Like, what?!?! Unhinged situations to find oneself in, with no other options and minimal recourse. It's all about getting embroiled in a situation wayyyyyy over one's head/deeper than one could ever have planned or expected. This novel was almost, in a few places, a grotesque look behind the curtains of a life, and the way art can produce a record of a person/life. Yeesh and yikes.

I do want to say though, I didn't dislike it. In fact, it was exactly the messy read my mood was looking for. I just want to be clear on the vibes for everyone reading this review and deciding if this one is right for you, or not. Primarily, I was impressed with the writing. This was a very cerebral, internal narrative, character novel. It did remind me a bit of Catalina and a bit of Beautyland, though more engrossing than either of those, in a "can't look away from this disturbing chaos" kind of way. It is bitingly precise. The dry observational tone, calling out - with insightful and “over it” snark - the ridiculous and contradictory nature of how people are treated by gender, race, age, intersectionality and just the general extreme [conservative] view BS that just actually makes no sense is cutting, icy, frighteningly unemotional (like those people that get quiet when angry, and are actually scarier than loud angry people). In particular, Leilani's addressing of the contradictions of being both hypervisible and invisible as a Black woman is phenomenal. It's sharp AF writing and insightful observations... and if there is a lean into dark “humor” sometimes, phew it is dark.  

Nothing is easy about the unpacking and contradictions and observations in this novel, in the way that nothing - no person, situation, nor relationship - in life has a clear and easy explanation. It's a wild read. And Ariel Blake's audiobook narration is delivered with a tonal precision that is perfect for the novel's vibe; a narrative tour de force.   

“I was not popular and I was not unpopular. To invite admiration or ridicule, you first have to be seen.”

 “Imagine living life so carefully that there are no signs you lived at all.”

“She says art is subjective, and technically that is the moral of the story, though it is also implied that everyone in the kingdom thinks her art is bad, which - if she is making art that is meant to be seen by others - is a serious tough-titty, the comfort of audience subjectivity pretty much null when the audience is everyone, and everyone has decided, subjectively, that the art is bad.”

“…even though racism is often so mundane it leaves your head spinning, the hand of the ordinary in your slow, psychic death so sly and absurd you begin to distrust your own eyes.” 

 

I read the first book in this series, The Firekeeper's Daughter, a few years ago. And it made my favorite's list that year (2022). But I was also really happy with how it wrapped and wasn't sure I wanted a sequel, so I didn't pick this up right away. Which is on me, for not actually reading much about this one, because apparently the author felt the same way. This sequel is within the same world, but later in time, focusing not on a continuation of Daunis' story (though she is present as a side character...and it's nice to see her), but instead on her niece, Perry. 

Watching Perry as she comes of age both in a general "adolescence" sense, and within the context of her cultural heritage, is a beautiful and emotional journey. As with Boulley's first novel, the framework of the story is a low key thriller, with a solid - though never overwhelming - sense of tension as the plot builds and develops, and a culminating "big drama" that delivers what anyone looking for classic aspects of a thriller finale might want. But within that framework, the novel delivers so much more. Boulley's sharing of Anishinaabe language, traditions, and culture is done with honor and care, as with the first. And here it's delivered with a feeling of it being a sort of ode to a cultural history, the community of shared language and tradition, and an acknowledgement of the fight to hold on to those memories and traditions. The overarching message of how many ways and over how many years the indigenous body has been (and continues to be) devalued and disregarded and destroyed, through myriad examples, is deeply affecting. The direct lines drawn from stolen ancestral remains to MMIW (Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women), is difficult and necessary and handled with real in this YA/“new to this topic” readers...though still without pulling any punches (Perry would be proud). Throughout, the gravity of MMIW, as well as repatriation of artifacts/bones (and the many political/social/financial/bureaucratic instances of red tape that prevent something that should be so obvious), is fully and deeply addressed, with appropriate anger and honor. 

I appreciated what felt like a very genuine adolescent narration, one with a believable mix of maturity, unsurity, annoyance, and impulsiveness. There were also some sweet - realistic while not taking over the plot - romantic elements that I enjoyed.The writing may have been a bit less tight than in The Firekeeper's Daughter, it was still a well-paced and clean plot, with lots of "action" and full character development. As I said earlier, I love this as a sequel: getting to revisit our previous MC as a side character, and already being comfortable with the setting and "world," while meeting a whole new coming of age cast with original stories all their own. 

“Committing atrocities and calling it the will of a supreme entity wasn't just an American thing. Holy wars were fought for control over sacred sites. Every war, holy or not, is a battle for control over land and other resources. The winners were due the spoils of war, including gold and silver, people enslaved and trafficked, and the cultural and religious relics of those considered less than human.”

“If you state your terms as a conclusion, the other party focuses on the acceptance and not the terms. Especially if you end on a positive note.”

“We protect and provide for our community. You notice things that others don't. You fight for people who can't fight for themselves. If you need to be fierce, you can get there in a heartbeat. But at heart, you are a gentle soul who wants tranquility. It's why we make the best protectors. It's not about showing force. It's about strategizing, negotiating, and making difficult decisions quickly. It's recognizing that knowing when not to fight is more important than knowing you are capable of fighting.”

“…the means justify the end. Doing the right thing for the right reason, with a good heart and clear intentions, matters.” 

 

Ok look. I was not planning to read this. But it just kept popping up. And the cult following it seemed to have acquired over the years was fascinating to me. I needed to know why. And then, and nail in the proverbial coffin, I found a used copy at a local bookstore. And, in the midst of the year in which I've needed escapist reading more than ever before, here we are. 

Like, the premise of this is ridiculous. Intergalactically trafficked human women crash land on an ice planet (think Hoth from Star Wars) - from the frying pan into the fire, but in a super cold variation of the saying. From the ice bucket into the freezer? Anyways, upon venturing out to try and find aid/escape, their de facto leader Georgie, stumbles into a trap set by a local/native alien...who ends up "resonating" with her (their species' version of fated mates) and the rest is...history? I mean, there is so much ridiculous and convenient stuff that happens, as far as both survival and bonding and cultural-lingual barriers go. And yet, I see the reason this book has gotten a cult following? I sped read right through this blue alien smut like you have no idea. And while it's not high literature, it's solidly written (for the genre) and so easy to mindlessly read. We all really could use a little more massive, protector-provider, cinnamon roll AF masculine energy in our lives. I might not be invested enough to continue to read the series (the cold and primitive setting just isn't *quite* doing it for me, personally), but I do not regret picking it up and giving it a go. Not one bit. 

Side note, after reading the authors afterwards about how/where this series began, I’m honestly even more in support of it, in a general sense, tbh. Just a really fantastic, fun, silly escapism with a surprisingly (after the first chapters of trafficking aspects are behind us) safe and cozy storyline and love story. 

 

This has been on my TBR shelf figuratively, and then literally, for years now. I remember many people who read it after the start of COVID saying it was maybe too real, and to be careful with it, so I waited a while. And phew, those people were right. 

 

Severance follows an MC, Candace, as she navigates a contemporary NYC office drone job, a post-apocalyptic road trip, and millennial ennui existence, survival in a world shutting down around her, and life in (mid)western America as a young immigrant/daughter of immigrants. And for being published in 2018, it is wildly prescient of what the shutdown around COVID would look like for the world. Like, to the point where, if you told me Ma could see the future, I would totally believe you. This was a super internal narrative, for a post-apocalyptic story. Following Candace's many mental-emotional responses and journeys, including myriad flashbacks and anecdotes from her life "before," was interesting. Like, you know the world is falling around her, and can tangibly imagine it (now, post-COVID, especially...the shutdown part, of course, not the presence of the virus). And yet, because you are experiencing it all from within her own mind, it's weirdly distant at the same time? Like real life at a remove? Stylistically, it reminded me, a bit, of Chemistry. And the ending leaves the reader on the precipice of an unknown future, but with hope that it’ll be something new/different. Not better per se, but not worse? Something recreated… It's a common vibe for the speculative fiction genre (like Station Eleven, The Z-Word, The Book of M, and others). 

  

In these pages, Ma manages a (hefty) critique of capitalism/consumerism, a post apocalyptic societal collapse (a la Station Eleven), a character study, a critique of paternalism and patriarchy, a darkly-borderline-humorous observance of humanity and our estimation of ourselves as measured by societal rules and workplace habits, with just a dash of art. There’s a lot of commentary to unpack within it. And I think the real beauty of this novel (in addition, of course, to the clear intention of the writing) is that the details are so meticulous that every reader will notice and respond to something a little different. It makes it a really individualized reading experience, for all that it addresses some very universal themes. 

 

 “I could do that indefinitely: roam the streets, look up into a window and imagine myself into other people’s lives.” 

“The past is a black hole, cut into the present day like a wound, and if you get too close, you can get sucked in.” 

 

“Memories beget memories.” 

 

“To live in a city is to live the life that it was built for, to adapt to its schedule and rhythms […] To live in a city is to take part in and to propagate its impossible systems. […] It is also to take pleasure in those systems because, otherwise, who could repeat the same routines, year in, year out?” 

 

I had received a gift card to a local bookstore some months ago that I, gasp!, had completely forgotten about, when a spring cleaning spree brought it to my attention. And I obviously needed to use it immediately, before forgetting about it again. So after a quick browse (it's a very small store), this was my selection. I hadn't really heard/seen much about it, but I do love a standalone fantasy and the blurb was intriguing. Y'all. Hot DAMN. What a choice I made! This is absolutely a new fav, and it will be making my top ten list for the year, for sure. 

 

Ok so. The one-liner about this book is: "A standalone dark academia brimming with mystery, tragedy, and the damning echoes of the past." Is. It. Ever! Every single note or observation of reaction that I jotted down while reading this was effusively positive. I have literally no notes (h/t to Big Mouth, iykyk). But also, it's me, so I will share my bubbling over enthusiasm, with lots of words.   

 

The world-building! OMG but this magic system is WILD - aether and alchemy mixed with science and math and a typewriter mechanism just for fun - so freaking original. And that reaction was before the "big reveal" on the source of said magic and then holy shit it got even wilder! That being said, I did see that twist coming, but when it hit (for our MCs, Sciona and Thomil), I was still happy with the way the story went; it didn’t need to be a surprise to still be so so good. And it ties in perfectly to the really nuanced (and therefore naturally uncomfortable), interweaving and commentary on the variety and intersectional types of oppression and discrimination and privilege and power imbalances that are the central themes of this novel. Wang creates a FASCINATING and BRUTAL reworking of the colonization of indigenous knowledge that structured religion has manipulated/stolen over history…the gaslighting and structural racism and lies and corruption that make this possible hurts to read here, especially in recognizing that those aspects pull directly from real life. 

 

On this note, I have many other observations about the themes Wang addresses here. Oh this commentary on the convenience of self-delusion and looking away over the challenge and contradiction and ugliness of truth - and the absolutely bullshit cover of “civilized” to quash truth/honesty - is spicy! And ahhhhhh the limitations imposed on an unknowing populace when the “victors” account of history is the only one made available is so applicable to the washing away of diversity (CRT, DEI, queer POVs, etc.) that is happening in schools/public spaces right now. It's infuriating! Wang also calls out the hypocrisy and double standards in religion and patriarchy in no uncertain terms. Gorgeously done. I also loved the way Wang systematically dismantles all the “if people can only see the evil, they’ll stand against it” arguments that are so common of the closer-to-privilege-and-kind-of-progressive groups. These haven’t worked IRL as we consider the world watching Palestinian genocide and doing nothing for over a year...and she lights that perspective up in these pages. Finally, I thought the philosophical discourse on good and evil (and really in general) - is it the intention or outcome that matters in the end, the abstract (intention) or concrete effect on the balance of the world (outcome) - was so interesting.  

 

Regarding characters, their development was also fantastic. I am going to focus on our two MCs, Sciona and Thomil, in this review. But it's important that I note how each of the supporting cast members was equally detailed and developed and represented very real "types" of people. Anyways, this impossible and flawed allyship between Sciona and Thomil is perfect - nuanced and slow building and hesitantly believing and full of righteous/defensive anger and growing admiration for each other as those pre-set biases/understandings are overcome. Their finding of common ground against a system is such a highlight of this reading experience; the message that “experiences may not be the same, but they are connected” is a cornerstone of allyship and the fight for a more equitable future. And while it is not a trauma-competition, Sciona’s journey of cognitive dissonance (as she realizes that her oppression is still hand-in-hand with many privileges) to rejecting a faith system and culture based on getting ahead through oppression of others, of stopping lying to herself because looking away and mental gymnastics is easier, is admirable and should be emulated by MANY (too bad none of them will read this book). Watching her struggle to find the line between being aware and working to fix things and not thinking/dwelling too much (and thus slipping into emotional paralysis) is too relatable right now, but in a way that really highlights Wang's skill as a writer. 

 

Ok people, the portrayal of the complexities of oppression in myriad and overlapping forms, and the way they all stem from the same power structures at the end of the day, no matter how different their manipulations/manifestations look, is stunning. The magic system and world that is built, the nuance of the characters and their interactions and developments, are also stunning. The emotionally crushing power of hope and renewal this book ends with is stunning too. Overall, I am stunned. Dare I say, this is like what Babel did, but better? Just as clear, but tighter? At least for me. (Though shoutout to that word magic in Babel, which is untouched colonializer magic, conceptually). To repeat myself: this is a new all time favorite book. Holy shit. 

 

“If I can’t clear that clouded glass, there’s nothing left to do but break through it.” 

 

“We Kwen have a word for that - taking ancestral items from people who aren’t dead. It’s called stealing.” 

 

 “It’s much easier to tell yourself you’re a good person than it is to actually be one.” and “…obliviously paving their way to Hell with pride.” 

 

“What if we don’t treat emotion as matter? What if we treat it as energy? Not as a poison, limited in its potential, but as a power source, infinite in its potential? […] I don’t need to stop feeling this way. I just need to take control of the energy the feeling has created inside me.” 

 

“They did what a man was supposed to: they revered and obeyed the men above them, pursued greatness in the model of their predecessors, and, in the end, they were rewarded with power, acclaim, and dominion over lesser beings - a small godhood of their own. [...] The path to God wasn't laid for women like her. It was laid on their backs.” 

 

“…but I’m starting to understand how ridiculous it is to demand civility when the world is so disgustingly uncivil.” 

 

“Good people will turn monstrous when it’s down to their survival or someone else’s.” 

 

“Just that, if suffering counts as damage…is it better to be safe and broken than it is to be dead?” 

 

“Truth before comfort.” and “It’s not an attack to tell the truth.” (and you LIVE that discomfort, Sciona, hot damn!) 

 

“You took reality and reimagined it to be a story with you at the center, all designed for you, all for your taking. Well, not today! This story is about my ego and what it will do to the world!” 

 

It's been years, like so many that I think all of them were pre-book-blogging Paige, but I have read and loved a number of Kearsley's novels. The Winter Sea was a particular favorite - the first one I picked up - and I sped through like five more immediately after that. When I saw this most recent release come through the library, I realized I was definitely in the mood for another from her, after all these years. And so, I brought it home with me. (Ahhhh, the dangers of working in a library...) 

The King’s Messenger was a bit of a slower-roll read, compared to what I remember of her previous novels. It is very clear that her years of research and knowledge of these time periods and settings are vast, and she makes that known on every page, from character interactions to location description to the intricacies of court life and political nuance. (A note here: the afterword, on the historical characters and IRL research Kearsley did and how it informed her novel and where she diverged and why, was fantastic!) However, that being said, I am glad I had the audiobook to move me through some of it, as it may have been a bit too slow for reading with my eyeballs. Yet, with the help of a narrator, I sank right into this historical fiction world. 

I absolutely love a Scottish setting, especially historical ones like this (please see how many novels I read that are set there, from The Lost Queen to The Girl from the Sea to Shuggie Bain to City of Ghosts to Lady Macbeth, review forthcoming). It's sweeping and gorgeous and perfectly spooky. Which lends itself spectacularly to Kearsley's signature interweaving of the mystical/paranormal into her stories. In this case, Andrew Logan, one of our male MCs, has a variation on second sight and can see phantom spectres of the past, and some visions of the future. Speaking of Andrew Logan, his relationship with our female MC, Phoebe Westaway, was the romantic centerpiece of my dreams. It was a sweet and tender, softly fiery, slow burn romance that fit the mood of the story and setting perfectly. And to the plot itself, it was dramatic in nature, but quiet in delivery. A combination that again, I enjoyed in this context, but for which I was glad of the audiobook. 

Altogether, this was a sweet and tangible historical plot and HEA. One that I fell into fully and gladly and enjoyed my time with. 

“They’re not the same, though, are they? Education and intelligence. A learned man can yet be witless in all other aspects of his life, while an uneducated man who's never set foot in a classroom can possess a fine and gifted mind.” 

 

This was a book I picked up from the library's "free ARCs for employees" pile. The striking jewel-toned and gold cover design caught my eye to start, and the blurb sealed the deal. 

 

It's no secret that Iran's recent history has been one of trauma and turmoil, especially for the women of the country. This is, of course, due in large part to the US's "fingers-in-the pot" foreign policy. This novel does a beautiful job showcasing that, blame where it is deserved, while still centering the narratives of the people, and especially the women, who have lived, and are still living, it. Following Ellie's trajectory from table nuclear family home to less secure single parent home to step-parent and wealthy home to young-adulthood and independence to moving to America with her husband and the foreignness of that to a readjustment and accustomization to acting as a guardian for her friend's daughter in America and becoming essentially a second mother to her...it's a beautiful and emotional journey. And as we get a few sections woven in that are narrated by her best friend, Homa, and later Homa's daughter, Bahar, the novel rounds itself into something that spans and represents generations over decades, and the various paths a life could take under the circumstances of reality. These female relationships sent me through so many emotions. They were the absolute stars of this novel. As it was meant to be, Kamali delivers. 

 

I was particularly impressed with the nuance with which Kamali recognizes the "lion" in each of these women. While some (Homa) fight more obviously and some (Ellie) support and provide care from behind the "front lines," there is a fierceness in each, and an important place for each in the efforts towards the cause (women's rights). One cannot exist without the other. That is not always something that gets its due visibility. Relatedly, there is nuance in the fact that Homa, as someone on the front lines, someone who is constantly and loudly fighting for rights and against authoritarianism, will likely experience a greater violence against her person (as she absolutely does, in this novel), and yet, in the end, she chooses to take that risk upon herself, to protect/fight for others. And feels safer in doing so only when she knows those others are safe. In comparison, Ellie does sometimes seem too relaxed into her privilege, not having (and therefore not understanding) Homa's drive. Yet, when the time comes to support Homa, she does so with everything at her disposal. You'll be inclined, as the reader, to scoff at Ellie's naivete, and yet, when you see that Homa doesn't - that Homa appreciates and loves what Ellie can provide - it's really affecting. It makes you reconsider all those necessary roles, all the ways one can be a lion woman. And while it’s always worth pushing oneself to do/be/say/support/fight more, dismissing others is not the answer. And so to repeat, these relationships gave me emotions. 

  

Finally, it's worth noting how disheartening it was, how deeply upsetting and frightening, to see the parallels of this story - the story of Iran and Iranian women - and the slide into authoritarianism that we're experiencing in the US right now. That generations of women must suffer and sacrifice what matters most to fight for any kind of equality, and it never seems to end (and in fact often sees increible backsliding), is heart wrenching. But here we are. And I suppose, at least, we have gorgeous literature like this to sink into for solace and escape and being seen. 

 

 “Sometimes you have to break the law, Ellie. Some laws are stupid and unfair and absurd.” 

 

“I had assumed Homa's bravado was masking deep pain and suffering. But [...] I realized Homa's bravado wasn’t masking her pain. It was because of it.” 

 

“What made her […] so brave? What makes the women in Iran fighting on the streets now not afraid?” 

 

For a lifetime we have fought. We have fought and fought and fought. We want to be free. We want to be equal. We want to be able to live our lives.” 

 

 

I just knew that this book would be fascinating and educational, even considering that I work in reproductive health for a living and keep up with reproductive justice work on my own time as well. I also knew, not due to the book itself, but due to my feelings on the topic under the microscope, it would be infuriating. And it met my expectations on all those fronts. This book is a lot, informative and upsetting in equal measure, and absolutely timely and necessary and, as I always say when it comes to knowledge on women's/female-bodied health, filling in gaps that are sadly rampant for everyone, in ways both scientific/medical and individual.

I took so many notes while reading this. And I'm hella behind on reviews and pretty tired. So. This is going to be a bullet point review situation. But again, I took a lot of notes, so maybe that'll be an easier way to read through all my thoughts (if you are inclined to) for you anyways...

- They say it in the “author’s note on word choice,” and it worked for me, but they aren’t wrong about the dark humor as a coping mechanism. There are a couple very dark humor moments. (And ok, but that intro list of women across the history of pregnancy/miscarriage/birth in the style of American Girl Doll bios was on point and hilarious.) But overall, it helped create the super relatable narrative tone, at least for me. Please be very aware of that coming in, if this is a topic that you already know is potentially a difficult one for you.

- Obviously, I’m pro-choice no matter the situation, but this phrasing of how it especially affects those who wanted the pregnancy hit particularly hard…that’s who these anti-choice protestors are professing to protect, yet they are hurt at least as badly as anyone else.  

- Connected reading! Alua Arthur’s death doula memoir, Briefly Perfectly Human. The ways we do not handle death/grief well in our toxic positivity culture, and how that ties in here, is a fantastic nonfiction combo. 

- The weight of the lack of clear language for discussing pregnancy and pregnancy loss (legally, emotionally, medically, societally), and the impact of that on connotation and moral hierarchy of termination...what devastating (and life threatening!) impacts on individuals. In fact, across the board, the linguistic discussions in this book were so interesting. Like: how successful reframing anti-abortion as pro-life/family was, and how the way it’s easy slogan-ing like “save babies” paints the pro-choice group into a corner because their stance is inherently not that simple/straightforward (they want people to choose whatever option, of limitless possibilities, works best for them).

- This book started with an absolutely fascinating rapid overview of the history/development of access and outlooks on pregnancy/contraception/abortion in the US. And with that grew an unflinching calling out of the role that patriarchy, racism, and capitalism have played in the dire/worsening outlook of reproductive health that we’re living in today. Depressing and upsetting AF, but I was engrossed in the development.  

-  Whoa. Mind-blowing perspective/interpretative shift on the reframing of miscarriage after 2000: since two thirds of abortions take place before 8th week (thanks to at home pregnancy tests and Plan B), it means that miscarriages that happen by course of nature (which you'll see are quite common, if you read this and get through the "history of pregnancy" loss opening sections) are happening in much higher proportion to those “wanted” pregnancies, because unwanted are already ended by the time they would have been miscarried. That change has led to the shift of miscarriage into something that is mourned and grief-filled in a way that it wasn't historically, changing the sociocultural views and responses to it.

- After Roe - so recently - legal abortions before 16 weeks were safer than continued pregnancy and childbirth... Are you kidding me?! Whose lives matter here?!

- The way that scientific advances, allowing us to see just the fetus and therefore detach its existence from the mother and her experiences, and how that’s shaped contemporary reactions to it as a being on its own (even if it couldn’t legit survive without the mother) is so fascinating. And, on theme, depressing and upsetting to see laid out. But there is something to be said for having a better idea how we got to this point. 

- Speaking of, though, as a reproductive health (puberty and sex ed) educator, I still have to wonder... How did we go from watching “the miracle of life” in school in the 80s to the travesty that is puberty and sex ed today, where we can't show/talk about anything, SO quickly?!

- Pro-choice and pro-life are not semantically opposite, and yet somehow are diametrically opposed in abortion policy. Again, the conversation about language options/use in this book is so good. 

- Stigma has been such a powerful and masterfully used tool of social control by the anti abortion side. We all know the narrative of the “bad” mothers who voluntarily cause fetal death and “good” mothers who grieve pregnancy loss and that ubiquity is such a damaging and stigmatizing narrative, unevenly and unclearly assigned. I mean, OH THE HARM. Ughh, I wish pro-choice could figure their shit out better.

- This concept came up in a favorite read of mine from last year too, Period, but there is just so little knowledge available on thse topics because women have been so dis-included and uncentered in medicine and medical research for….ever (and, of course, still today). And while there are ethical considerations in studying pregnant women, there are also ethical implications in *not* studying them, and “the absence of information breeds superstition and misinformation.” 

- Another common concept: we put mothers on a pedestal in America, but don’t do anything for or to support them.

- I loved this giving a name (“relational model”) to the idea that every pregnancy means something different to the pregnant person - a meaning they get to set and decide on their own, and react to the ending of (from miscarriage to TFMR to still birth to birth) in their different and self/determined way as well. I mean, I have always felt this, but it's so great to have language for it now. 

- Part 4 ("Making Meaning" - the capitalism-making of grief and mourning and remembering and social media aspects of loss) was, for me, the weakest part. I think in part it almost felt like a different book/message. I mean it fits here too, but felt a little tangential perhaps? I don't know. Maybe this was a "me" problem. I did like the point out of how ridiculous it is that abortion is against law/religion/morality, but grieving a pregnancy loss (at any stage) isn’t given as much weight as after a baby is “born” (not to mention the lack of help for those who are unable to fully parent, for whatever reason, after forced to have the baby). Like, where’s the cognitive dissonance?? 

- I SUPER appreciated the appendix with the info about what to do/say and not to do/say when trying to comfort/help someone experiencing pregnancy loss. I absolutely took pictures of those pages for later reference.

Silence. Stigma. Shame. (And the fallacy of control.) It all turns people into failures (whether it was a wanted pregnancy or not) instead of someone needing support. It's heartbreaking. And yet this book was something good, despite the difficulty of reading it. I appreciate how woven in all the different types of loss are here - this isn’t necessarily a book focusing on one or the other (though it does lean into wanted pregnancy losses). I don’t see a lot of trying to bring this sector all together like this, but I think it’s an incredibly useful start in trying to combat the current unhealthy cultural conceptualizations and morality conflicts about it. The inconsistency and confusion and ambiguity and arbitrariness in everything from definitions of these stages/milestones of pregnancy to what qualifies as life-threatening/life-saving to whose personhood gets prioritized to enforcement of laws supposedly set to protect pregnancy women/babies (that more often end in their own prosecution) to dictating who/how people can grieve. This book was, like I said, a lot. But I also learned a lot. And felt like it was a really useful read. I recommend it.

 “…what it’s like to feel the weight of a political movement against a palliative choice.”

“These losses [ectopic pregnancy, miscarriage, stillbirth, TFMR, selective reduction, abortion] are all part of the same medical universe. The body doesn’t distinguish between them. It’s American culture that puts a premium on the intention behind it.”

“You cannot feel empathy for people whose stories you never hear.”

 “Abortion laws have usually rested on a cultural ideal of who is deserving of this care, whose tragedies matter."

“…because the narrative around pregnancy is increasingly focused on the fetus, the pregnant person matters less and less.”

“This notion of control and choice has made society more suspicious of miscarriage, judgemental about pregnancy and abortion, and more perverse and inconsistent about who "matters" in a pregnancy. And as parents on individual levels try to control fertility and parenthood, the government has also sought to exercise control over who will give birth and under what circumstances."

“But the fall of Roe has, for better or worse, brought to light the connectedness of all forms of pregnancy loss and the concept that it can be downright hazardous to ascribe blanket morality to difficult and highly specific medical choices.”

 

Look...these are some short reviews for some short books. But the vibes remain spot on and that's all I'm looking for. This fourth novella of the episodic sci-fi adventure series Murderbot Diaries delivers exactly as all the others have. The dry sarcasm. The combined disdain for humanity and care/protection for certain individual humans. The action. The bite-sized amount of story arc and character development. It's all just so good. And this one in particular brings us back to the OG gang. Reunited! We watch Murderbot bring the info it gathered on GreyCris (and their nefarious plans) back to the team, and, of course, have to rescue some of them along the way. This was a fun, funzy, cozy, escapist read....and sets up for what I expect to be a culminating part of the story arc to date in the fifth (full length) installation.

“Disinformation, which is the same as lying but for some reason has a different name, is the top tactic in corporate negotiation/warfare.” 

 

This has been on my TBR shelf, and I have been meaning to read it, for yearssssssss. I knew that I would be so interested in it. And I was absolutely right. Glad I finally got myself around to picking it up.

In this short-ish piece of nonfiction, Leduc explores the way the the messages about beauty and goodness and ugliness and evil have are both informed by and have a profound effect on the way the world sees disability, and how that is turn affects those (like herself, Leduc has CP) who are disabled. She makes it very clear in the intro that this is not necessarily a scholarly work, though she has of course done research for it (I found the light history of fairy tales, folklore, and legend storytelling to be fascinating), but rather a bit of social commentary, a bringing together of many disability justice theories and perspectives and voices, and a narrative both personal and through interviews/anecdotes from other disabled people. I appreciate the clarity of her writing, both in the words themselves and in what they are meant to be/do in a larger sense, as well as in separating out the history/research/data from the personal aspects (while both are deeply important, knowing where the lines are means a lot). All in all, this was an incredibly compelling work, one that was both eye-opening and mind-expanding, and I was right: I really enjoyed and appreciated it. 

As with a lot of nonfiction, I took myriad notes while reading this. And I want to keep all my thoughts for posterity, as well as make it palatable for the reader, so this will be a bullet-point-style review situation.

- BIG POINT: **It is always individual and never society that transforms.** It is never society that changes, at the end of the fairy tale, rather it is always the protagonist who changes/transforms to become more palatable under the standards of society that are already in place…and how that reinforces/maintains expectations and class/societal structures already in place as a ‘moral’ and integral to the HEA and protagonist has to prove their worthiness of acceptance within that.

- The conversation about “strangeness” in fairy tales being due to a search for magical explanations for disabilities/differences/illnesses (ones that we now have more medical answers for) was fascinating. You can totally understand how/why it would seem like magic when a person was affected/suffering/cured from an unexplainable affliction.

- The high morality of charity as a end point of these tales (versus the understood lower morality of those who are ill/disabled), is an easy out for us to not have to work to actually better the greater structures/structural inequalities. And in fact, Leduc shows how that POV actually perpetuates them, as the “generous philanthropist” takes home all the accolades without working to actually change anything in a substantive way, while maybe the one single disabled/"in need" person is helped, but everyone else is not affected at all.

- Ohhhhhh the line Leduc drawn from magical quests/cures that *seem* ridiculous now, even while we peddle things like hypnosis and green tea and detoxes and faith healers as “fixes.” So insightful and really thought-provoking.

-  There was some extrapolation to other societal restraints areas, like mental illlness and gender, that I thought brought Leduc's messages into a wider lens in a really useful way.

-  I super appreciated the exploration of stories that we tend to think are a better message, like Shrek, where the HEA isn't necessarily conformity-based. And yet, Fiona only sees her ogre-self as beautiful after Shrek says so, and even then, they are different together, matching, in a way that again absolves the world of having to make any actual structural change to its understanding of beauty/ability. 

- BIG POINT: Fairy tales do not form in a vacuum, rather in response to culture and society in which they form.

- These stories (fairy tales) teach the power of assimilation…but not with the goal being power itself, but rather simple survival. Which is, when you actually think about it, quite upsetting. 

-  Disability as emblematic of imperfect...what messages kids - both able-bodied and disabled - internalize as a result (and the power reaching minds that young and formative). 

I was really affected by Leduc's comments on the importance and power of words (using them for good or evil) and the effort we put in to telling new stories, and actively working not to continue equating disability with negative (like lame and tone deaf) so that we can reshape and remake the world into somewhere that a protagonist can triumph with the help of community and obstacles removed, instead of having to overcome the obstacles continuously and without end forever. This lines up with much of the stigma-reducing language work we teach in the mental illness area (of course, the concepts are the same, obviously) and I will absolutely work to expand my own efforts on the front (and gently correctly those around me, as well). I feel slightly buoyed by having an actionable step to take, post reading this. 

There was definitely some repetition in these pages, and it really only scratches the surface of the topic. But, the world of fairy tales and disability is so large, it makes sense for Leduc to stay in her experience/lane...because it had to be cut down somehow. But in a general sense, this  interspersing of retellings, reflections, historical scholarship and sociology, personal memories/reflections, doctors’ medical notes, references to other scholars of this topic, intersectional social justice (esp racial) of the disabled experience, was an amazing read. A really thought provoking and wonderful reframing of things we (able-bodied people) take for granted. Also, a lovely sort of reflection and discussion and wondering at how things could be better, but don’t come here - which she says in the forward - for a handbook on how to be a disability activist. 

“How to recognize that it isn’t life’s divergence from this arc that is the problem, but the establishment of this arc in the first place - these able-bodied ideals, these able-bodied expectations? And how to wrestle with this difference between the able-bodied arc and the disabled one when disability is so entirely absent from these happy endings?”

“Fairy stories are not real, no. But neither are they ever only stories.”

“There is something insidious about the way we conceptualize beauty, about the way we associate gendered values of goodness and purity with what is dainty and pleasing and small. It isn't hard to move from this through to the way we frown upon anything that is larger or unusual or doesn't fit the status quo. It isn't difficult, in other words, to move from the way fairy tales have helped us to conceptualize beauty and goodness through to the way that our ideas of beauty and goodness actually operate in the world. Perhaps it isn't magic, but for those of us who'll never fit in those shoes no matter how we try, it might as well be.”

“Once again, we place the onus of recovery - successful completion of the quest - on the individual, and place much less emphasis on the role and responsibility of the community to offer the help that it can. Once again, we support and perpetuate a culture where the emphasis is on the cure rather than societal change - where the aim of the narrative is to eradicate the disabled life rather than change the world so that the disabled life can thrive.”

“It seemed easier to imagine a world where I had magical powers than a world where different bodies just existed side by side.”

“If society is not used to seeing disabled people in stories, society becomes used to not seeing disabled people in real life. If society is not used to seeing disabled people in real life, society will continue to build a world that makes it exceedingly difficult for disabled people to participate in said world, thus perpetuating the problem.”

“Fairy tales and fables are never only stories: they are the scaffolding by which we understand crucial things. Fairness, hierarchy, patterns of behaviour; who deserves a happy ending and who doesn't. What it means to deserve something in the first place; what happy endings mean in both the imagination and the world.”