jayisreading's reviews
521 reviews

This book is a tough one to review. I enjoyed it, for the most part, but I haven't been in the greatest headspace for the last several weeks, and I feel that I didn't fully enjoy the beautiful intricacies and deeper meanings of The Fifth Wound.

The novel is a visceral and multisensorial reading experience. Mattia brings the reader into her very queer and trans world, which she does by transcending boundaries and conventions of fiction. The book is somehow grounded yet otherworldly in the way the protagonist (also named Aurora) goes through life. We go from prose/poetry to footnotes, or text messages, or photographs, among other media. There's a lot happening in this novel, in the maximalist sense, to the point that it can be a lot to digest. However, the too much-ness of this novel is what makes it so special, in the way it indulges and takes up space in the abstract and reality.

I'll have to revisit this novel when I'm in a better headspace, because I have no doubt I missed a fair number of details.

I could not get into this one, I really tried. It might be that I'm not in the right headspace for any books though.

This was an interesting short story collection to read, with the reader drifting from one unsettling story to the next, never quite knowing what's around the corner. Perhaps what made the horror of these stories come alive as well as they did—even if fantastical—was the everyday nature of them. The horror isn't the eerie or supernatural; it's the people around you and what they're capable of doing to others for their own benefit. 

Chung explores different styles and genres in this collection; I found this interesting, but it also added to the density of this collection. I have given him praise before, but I have to give it again: Anton Hur did a phenomenal job handling these changes with his translation. 

While I didn't think all the stories were particularly memorable, the ones that really stick with you, well, will stick.

I’m just not in the mood for this right now, though I’d like to revisit it later.

I thought Thomas did a phenomenal job capturing the messiness that comes with being in high school, especially while queer. To be more specific, if you happen to be from the US (bonus points if it was the Northeast) and attended middle/high school in the early to mid 2000s (i.e., post-9/11), Idlewild is going to be a trip down memory lane. 

To return to the point about growing up queer, the exploration of queerness was really well done. Thomas was thoughtful in exploring the complicated mess of it all, especially the sense of feeling as though you're in the wrong space and body. It gets more complicated when you consider the time this book was set in, too. 

That being said, I cannot emphasize enough that this book is probably going to hit harder for queer white people who spent their adolescence during this period, as the book very much centered white voices. This isn't me throwing rotten tomatoes at Thomas or anything, but the whiteness of this book was something that frequently came to mind as I read. Not in a good or bad way; just that it was what it was, and it was very clear to me that Thomas was writing with personal experience in mind to a certain extent. 

Overall, though, Idlewild was packed with emotions. It was tough being queer back then. It's still fucking tough being queer now. I'm grateful that Thomas approached these difficulties the way he did: funnily and heartbreakingly.

I would like to revisit this collection. The general vibe of the book just isn't working for me right now.

Novellas are tricky, considering their constraints and the author(s) having to do just the right amount of worldbuilding, character development, pacing, and the rest. I often find that many novellas don't quite work for me because I always felt something was missing/lacking. Unfortunately, this was the case for This Is How You Lose the Time War.

The novella heavily relies on the characters to carry the story, which I don't think is entirely an issue. I thought the epistolary approach was a really unique way to reveal the relationship between Red and Blue, as well as to help push the story along. However, I wasn't entirely taken to this romance. I had too many questions that might have been addressed if there was more worldbuilding. I think if the authors fleshed out their dystopian world some more so the reader could follow what was happening and why, the novella would have been far more compelling. It also would have greatly developed Red and Blue as characters because their motives would have been clearer.

Something else that stood out to me about this novella was the prose. It's very purple-y prose, which will work for some, while others will hate it. It was clear that a lot of thought went into each sentence, especially in the letters. Admittedly, I did find the flowery language to be a bit much at times, but it wasn't a negative for me in general.

TIHYLTTW clearly worked for many people, though, with many fans expressing their love for the slow burn sapphic romance. So, there's also the fact that I'm not much of a romance person (as I've probably made clear in many reflections/ramblings), and maybe I just wasn't the target audience.

Overall, I wasn't particularly frustrated with this novella, but I'm not fully understanding the adoration for it either.

This was a beautifully written memoir in which Maclear dove deep into her family roots, as well as to contend with unearthed family secrets. Maclear's story began with a DNA test that revealed that her father was not biologically related to her, which results in an ongoing question throughout this memoir: What does "family" mean? The memoir was an exploration of other themes as well, particularly love and identity, and how the complexities of kinship impacted them.

I think there were a lot of great themes that were clearly meant to connect, but I found that the delivery to be a little scattered, as Maclear went from one idea or memory to the next. Furthermore, I admit that I found the references and metaphors related to nature felt a little forced at times. (That being said, the times they did work, they were really poignant.)

I'm also still trying to gather my thoughts on how Maclear approached her biracial identity and how this tied to her relationship with her Japanese mother. What I can say is that their relationship was clearly complex, which, in turn, complicated the way Maclear chose to write about it.

There's a lot to think about in this memoir; perhaps you could even argue that there might be too much. However, if you're hoping to find something introspective in tone and lyrically written, this memoir might be for you.

Note: I received an ARC from a Goodreads giveaway.

Loving the Dying is a contemplative collection of poems that considers the different stages of life (i.e., aging). Verwey writes in a very accessible fashion; there are no frills or particular experimentation in these poems. Instead, he asks that you take the poems as they are and think about the nature of death and grief in our lives.

These poems are deeply personal, so much so that I sometimes felt some ideas were a bit beyond the understanding of the reader (unless they happen to know the poet). I will also say that I didn't feel there was enough substance for me to fully latch onto the themes and overall message that the poet may have wanted the reader to take away from this short collection. (That being said, this is more reflective of my personal tastes.)

The titular poem is definitely one to think about though, which quietly brought this collection together with grace.

Note: I received a finished copy from the publisher.

I got a taste of Ndlovu's writing from the anthology, Africa Risen, which featured one of her short stories from Drinking from Graveyard Wells. While that particular story wasn't a favorite, I did enjoy the depth of her writing. This short story collection was a fascinating one, taking a speculative approach to immerse the reader into (primarily) Zimbabwean culture and history.

Overall, the collection addressed dark themes, especially to think about the oppressed (broadly speaking). I wouldn't say that these stories were pessimistic in nature, though, and still had glimmering moments of hope. I also found it interesting how Ndlovu navigated contending with the past and traditions through her characters living in modern times.

Really thought-provoking collection. Some things flew over my head, mostly because I'm not very familiar with Zimbabwean culture and history, but it was an opportunity to learn more and be immersed in some well-crafted stories.