mars2k's Reviews (226)

“Time to close the gap between vision and practice. Time for those of us who seek justice and liberation to BE just and liberated, to be of this place fully.”

Ironically quite disorganised for a book on organising. Quotes often feel shoehorned. The same analogies are used to represent different things in different chapters, which can be a little confusing. That said, there are some nuggets of wisdom that I think make the book worthwhile.

I wouldn't necessarily recommend Emergent Strategy by itself but I can see myself including it in a list of recommendations for books on activism and social justice. It would pair well with Dean Spade’s Mutual Aid, for example.

CONTENT WARNINGS: some discussion of abuse, mentions of sexual assault, racism, ableism

I’m enamoured by the way Roy writes – poetic yet direct. Towards the end, where the essays talk about the pandemic and the dire consequences of its mismanagement, you can see her falling from dignified resistance to desperation; the book ends with her literally begging the prime minister to resign.

I didn’t know a whole lot about the political situation in India and Azadi has really shed light on things.

CONTENT WARNINGS: colonialism, casteism, xenophobia, islamophobia, violence (including sexual violence, lynching, massacre), police brutality, military occupation, pandemic, death

Definitely not bad, but not what I was expecting. I was hoping for more on the philosophy of borders – their creation and maintenance, the mentality that underpins them, the consequences of their enforcement – but the book drifts away onto tangentially related topics. Immigration and labour exploitation and liberal multiculturalism are not irrelevant, but discussing those subjects is not the same as directly interrogating borders themselves. It’s one degree removed from what I was interested in, if that makes sense. And that’s not that these things aren’t worth talking about! I just wish that more of an effort was made to explicitly link them to the subject at hand. For example, Walia mentions TERFs only to point out that they are connected to a global network of alt right ideologies and organisations. What she could have done is examine transphobia through a “border and rule” lens: how (and why) are identity categories like gender constructed and policed? It felt like a missed opportunity to not approach it in this way.

Border and Rule is very dense; it feels a lot longer than two hundred or so pages. There are a lot of statistics and cold hard facts. I found myself thinking about Said’s Orientalism and Scott’s Seeing Like a State. Neither of these books is without its flaws, but I feel they were more reflective and, as a result, had more insightful observations to offer than simply describing the state of the world.

CONTENT WARNINGS: racism, xenophobia, islamophobia, antisemitism, homophobia, transphobia, incarceration in detention centres and refugee camps, trafficking, deportation, police brutality, torture, sexual assault, mass shootings, violence in general, colonialism, slavery, genocide, death, self harm

Overall really good, though some chapters are stronger than others. It gets a little repetitive in places but in a way that kind of works, reflecting how Lorde (and black women generally) have to have the same conversations over and over with white feminists. I found the interview with Adrienne Rich really interesting; it got me thinking about how we always interact with one another both as individuals and as representative members of our respective groups (our gender, our race, etc.) I also liked the essay “Eye to Eye: Black Women, Hatred, and Anger” which read like Lorde’s phenomenal book Zami: A New Spelling of My Name.

I can see why this collection is considered a classic. Lorde’s words are sharp, considerate, and woefully relevant now, decades later.

CONTENT WARNINGS: racism and colourism, sexism, misogyny, lesbophobia, violence including police brutality and murder, death, sexual assault, invasion, and mentions of forced pregnancy/sterilisation, slavery, and cancer

I bought this book because I was intrigued by “The Soul of Man Under Socialism.” I was rather disappointed. What started out as a strikingly ahead-of-its-time essay advocating fully automated luxury communism soon veered off into what was essentially a rant about how “the public” doesn’t appreciate good art. Both aspects of the essay are deeply rooted in classist rhetoric. I can’t tell whether this is representative of Wilde’s own perspective; perhaps he was trying to convince the rich to back socialist reform?

Bartlett, the editor of this collection of Wilde’s writings, has this to say: “What Wilde offers — or indeed, actively constructs — is a space of intimate but truly discomforting contact between the reader and his text. The essay is in essence a monologue, a firework display of opinion in the course of which the reader is stunned, offended, charmed — but never offered any evidence or strategy to support the text’s high-toned assertions. The effect — paradoxically, of course — is that Wilde’s particular way of expressing himself turns the monologue into a conversation. It makes response inevitable.” Personally, I think this interpretation is interesting but overly generous. Does it unveil the depth of Wilde’s genius, or simply reflect how deeply we want to elevate Wilde to this “genius” status? We want Wilde to be erudite and profound. It’s what we expect of him. He was (in)famous for his wit, but he was as capable as the rest of us of being inaccurate and inarticulate and dull, as this book demonstrates.

I don’t have much to say about the rest of the book. “Intentions” was similarly dry. I liked “Lord Arthur Savile’s Crime,” though – a short story about mysticism and murder. That’s what saved the book for me, and bumped its rating up to three stars.

CONTENT WARNINGS: classism, murder, mentions of suicide and slavery 

I’ve been a fan of the podcast for some time. Unfortunately, the book just doesn’t work as well. Without the conversational tone and the episodic structure facilitated by the podcast format, Bad Gays feels somewhat bloated and disjointed. It lacks a consistent throughline to tie the chapters together; yes, the introduction and conclusion put forward the idea that homosexuality is a failed project, but this feels tacked on because the biographical segments don’t explore the subject, at least not as explicitly as I’d like.

Bad Gays is not a bad book by any means, but it is unrefined. It doesn’t do anything that the podcast doesn’t already do (and do better)

CONTENT WARNINGS: homophobia, transphobia, misogyny, racism, antisemitism, islamophobia, fascism, colonialism, slavery, torture, abuse, death, terminal illness, suicide, pederasty and other instances of dubiously-consensual sex and sexual assault

The artwork is gorgeous, the characters feel real and play off each other in interesting ways, the action sequences are well done. My main issue is the breakneck speed; the first instalment was pacy, but here it’s very obvious that this was written to be a webcomic rather than a graphic novel. Still, I’m hungry for more.

CONTENT WARNINGS: kidnap, violence, a little blood

The YA dystopian genre is a strange one, because it attempts to depict corruption and destruction at a societal scale while being primarily focused on (and limited by) the concerns and perspective of teenagers. Hell Followed With Us is about babyqueer angst and awkward teen romance; the apocalypse is merely a backdrop.

Well, no, that’s not fair. Hell Followed With Us is about queer rage, and the urge to go apeshit on your abusers. Except that emotion is overshadowed by more literal viscera.

Body horror and gore galore – too much, I think. It felt kind of unearned, maybe because the emotional beats weren’t hitting for me, maybe because there’s blood and guts right from the start with no build up.

The book wants to have its cake and eat it too when it comes to

the Graces; they’re hideous and brutish monsters, but also they’re not monsters and they deserve love and dignity, but also they’re hideous and brutish monsters.

There are more inconsistencies. For example, if Benji was raised by a Christofascist doomsday cult, why does he speak and act and think like he grew up on Tumblr? We’re told he read a book about queerness but, sorry, that doesn’t explain what ought to be a total ideological overhaul, not to mention how he learnt all the correct terminology, made sense of his identity and came to terms with it, etc.

He isn’t shaped by the cult (except literally in his Seraph transformation).

It’s as though he came from a different story altogether and was transplanted into this dystopian AU. And I find it hard to believe that Benji’s top priority right now is finding a boyfriend like cmon...

You’re a divine bioweapon, remember?

The thing is, Hell Followed With Us is a melodramatic exaggeration of a queer kid who grew up religious and found community at a youth club. That’s all it is, once you strip away the gory set dressing; all the apocalypse stuff is angst-ridden hyperbole. It’s appealing to the imagination of teens. It’s YA. It’s not for me.

CONTENT WARNINGS: transphobia, abuse, violence (including lots of gun violence), blood and gore, body horror, vomit, disease, death 

Meandering. A bit obnoxious. Lacking something I can’t quite pinpoint.

I was tempted to give it a lower rating but it is readable and it’s not too long. I think it’s fair to call it mid.

CONTENT WARNINGS: psychotic levels of religiosity, references to missionary work, racism, classism, misogyny, lesbophobia, child abuse, sexual assault

Update May 2025: Reread for book club.

I previously rated this 3.0 stars (which is what my book club collectively decided on too) but I’m giving it 4.0 here because I liked and appreciated it more this time round. I no longer think of it as “meandering” as such (apart from the detours into fantasy); the novel has a pinball feel to it, bouncing from one idea to another to another. I also loved what the author/narrator had to say about the nature of storytelling (and life):

“Do you think God would feed a body like yours?”

Woman, Eating reminds me of that standout quote from Nick Groom’s The Vampire: A New History: “Vampires are good to think with.” Here, vampirism serves as a jumping-off point for explorations of religious trauma, mixed heritage, colonial violence, and self-loathing and self-harm, particularly as it relates to disordered eating. This is a contemplative and introspective novel. The first person, present tense narration conveys Lydia’s reflections on her upbringing and ruminations on her identity and her place in the world. She’s lost. She’s lonely. I’ve seen others describe this as a “sad girl book” and I think that’s accurate, but the vampirism does lend those listless lists some flavour other entries to the genre lack.

I think Woman, Eating could have afforded to be more fucked up. True,

Lydia dispatches Gideon at the end of the book,

but I wanted more of that. More sensual revelling. And more consequences too. Aside from the protagonist, the characters are granted little interiority. Maybe it’s just that Lydia’s too stuck in her own head to exercise real empathy,

but I think it would have been interesting – expanding on those themes of colonialism and greed – to have her actually consider Anju’s feelings in a perverse sort of way, and feel good about taking something from her. As it stands, Anju is a non-character.

Lydia is the main character, Ben and Gideon are secondary, and the rest of the cast is just set dressing – fake plants hanging from the ceiling.

I like introspective novels so I don’t mind the lack of plot so much. I understand that isn’t to everyone’s taste, however. If the idea of an angsty artist vampire book appeals to you, check it out. It didn’t blow me away but I’ll give it a good four stars.

CONTENT WARNINGS: abuse, disordered eating, depression and self-loathing, self-harm, blood, death, violence, cheating, stalking, sexual harassment, racism, colonialism, dementia