BOOK REVIEW | My Dark Vanessa by Kate Elizabeth Russell

4/5 stars

CW: sexual abuse and rape between a minor and an adult. Please don’t proceed if this could be difficult for you.

I resisted reading this book. I’m hesitant to pick up books with a ton of publishing power behind them, especially considering the potentially exploitative content of this one, but for some reason I felt compelled to read it. I’m also aware of the controversy surrounding Russell’s book in comparison with Wendy C. Ortiz’s Excavation (a memoir). My understanding is that while there are similarities, Russell’s book was many years in the making and that no plagiarism / creative theft occurred. Rather, the experiences of sexual abuse survivors are similar in many cases, so inevitably some similarities occur between the two books. I’d like to read Excavation, so I’ll be putting that on my TBR.

We follow Vanessa Wye from adolescence into adulthood as she grapples with the realization that the relationship she had with her much older teacher may have not been consensual but, rather, abuse. Vanessa is 15 years old when she takes a class with Jacob Strane, aged 42. Vanessa is precocious and quickly identified by Strane as a bright student, and soon after they meet his grooming process begins. Because Vanessa is intelligent beyond her years they bond over literature (specifically Lolita, which is mentioned countless times), leaving Vanessa to feel that she is very much part of a mature relationship. She never views herself as a victim, so how can she heal when she sees nothing to heal from? The book goes into the darkest places of this abuse, explicitly detailing scenes of rape (I’ll only call them rape) and the lengths of coercion that Strane goes to to keep Vanessa under his thumb.

The writing in the book is good, it’s fast paced and very easy to get into. I actually picked this up as an ebook from my library and started reading it just out of curiosity. When my loan expired I got the physical copy so I could finish it without waiting many weeks – it’s an addicting read. I almost always dislike books written in the first person, but in this case it worked well. We’re in Vanessa’s head as she navigates these experiences, and I can’t imagine it working as well from another perspective. Vanessa’s thoughts are critical to understanding that deep down, she knows that what’s happening to her is wrong. She is disgusted by Strane’s body and is often repulsed by his touch – we experience these visceral moments alongside her.

The story alternates between Vanessa at age 15, Vanessa in her early 20s, and Vanessa at age 32. It’s was fascinating to read about her experience with Strane at different ages of development. At age 15 she views the relationship as dangerous but exotic, in her 20s, when she’s of legal age, she views the relationship of more of a stereotype – old man with young girl. In her 30s, she’s working with a therapist to make sense of everything, and this man who has defined all of her adult life. The revelation that Strane has abused other girls is the catalyst for Vanessa’s self-examination.

I’ve read survivor’s accounts of the book, and many say it’s the first time they’ve seen themselves on the page. That Russell accurately portrayed the complexity of feeling like the abuse was consensual, but with the knowledge that there’s no way it could have been. For those who are comfortable, please discuss – I’d love to hear your thoughts.

BOOK REVIEW | Transcendent Kingdom by Yaa Gyasi

2/5 stars

I’ll preface by saying that I know is an unpopular opinion, and that Yaa Gyasi is very loved and respected. I believe there’s a reader for every book, but in this case this just wasn’t for me. It’s hard for me to rate books below 3 stars as I have a deep respect for those who share their vulnerability and put their work out into the world. I also value respectful criticism when required, which I’ll try to provide here. There may be mild spoilers below.

Gyasi has crafted a story aimed at addressing some pretty heavy subject matter: depression, grief, addiction, and the immigrant experience (from multiple generations). The story centres around Gifty who is caring for her deeply depressed Ghanaian mother in the aftermath of her brother’s death by overdose. Gifty is a gifted neuroscience student, studying addiction in mice as a way to heal and better understand her brother’s inability to recover.

The style is that of a memoir – we spend most of our time in Gifty’s head, reading about her as she walks through these experiences. What was missing for me was an emotional depth that never came to be. As an example, Gifty describes finding her mother suicidal and overcome with grief, but describes the scene so factually that I was not able to feel that despair along with her. This happens time and time again as the family experiences blatant racism, abandonment by the patriarch of the family, and the pitfalls of addiction.

Perhaps its because Gifty is emotionally closed off or because she is a scientist who looks at situations factually, but the writing was too flat and uninvolved to elevate this book for me. I loved the concept of the story, but was ultimately left empty and unattached. Another thread to this story is that of the second generation immigrant – Gifty came to America at a very young age so has no real connection to Ghana, but also feels a sense of displacement in America. Again, the story alludes to this discontentment, but never goes all the way with it. In short, I wanted so much more from nearly every facet of this book.

If you’ve read Transcendent Kingdom I’d love to hear your thoughts. Am I completely off the mark? Did you love it?

BOOK REVIEW | Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates

5/5 stars

I have nothing of value to add to the praise of this book, except for a little more of it. A deeply personal and painful examination of race in America, then and now. Coates draws upon the writers that came before him, specifically James Baldwin and Richard Wright (whose poem by the same same name inspired Coates’ book), to discuss race for this generation in epistolary form. Profound and heartbreaking, but written accessibly, this is required reading.

BOOK REVIEW | Shuggie Bain by Douglas Stuart

5/5 stars

In short, Shuggie Bain is the story of a boy growing up in poverty with an unrelenting love for his alcoholic mother, Agnes. There are many stories out there that explore addiction, and many that tackle the complex parent-child relationships that arise from addiction. I’ve heard criticism of Shuggie Bain that say just that – that this story is nothing new.

What we have here, though, is a deeply personal glimpse into authour Douglas Stuart. A quick look at the acknowledgements reveals that this story, while fiction, is rooted in his own private experience. So yes, there are other books that are about the challenges of human existence and the darkness of alcoholism, but none of those books are THIS book.

What Shuggie Bain offers is vivid imagery of 1980’s Glasgow, a cast of characters to root for, and a story worth throwing yourself into. It was exactly the book for me, in this moment.

Agnes is as much a central character as Shuggie; her descent into her addiction is heartbreaking and incredibly frustrating. My family has been affected by addiction, and I’ve seen first hand the path that the addicted person goes down. I’ve seen a wonderful person turn ugly in the throes of their disease, and anyone who has will assure your that Stuart is accurate in his depiction of Agnes. Through all of Anges’ heartbreaks, humiliation, and darkest moments, we feel Shuggie’s unfaltering love for his mother. As a reader, you can’t help but hope she’ll find a way to pull herself out of her dire situation. Agnes made me cry more than once.

There’s another thread through the story – Shuggie isn’t quite like the other boys. It’s not the primary focus of the book, but we know Shuggie is gay. I won’t dive too much into that part of the story here, but it’s a lovely thread throughout the book, witnessing Shuggie find confidence in who he is. To let loose and dance. This was a fantastic book for me, and I’d highly recommend it to anyone who has the emotional capacity for a truly heartbreaking (but hopeful) book.

BOOK REVIEW | The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison

5/5 stars

A simple premise – the story of a young Black girl who wishes to be beautiful, to have blue eyes. The bluest eyes anyone has ever seen. As expected with Toni Morrison, though, this is so much more than that. Morrison doesn’t need to tell you about systemic racism or inter-generational trauma in simplistic terms – she’s going to show you. Her stories, while for everyone, speak to an audience that have lived lives colored by that reality.

Pecola Breedlove has always been made to feel ugly, both by the white community and her own Black community. Morrison spends a significant amount of time on the backstories of Pecola’s mother and father, and through these stories we better understand what they bring to the table as parents. While those backstories provide some of the Bluest Eye’s most significant moments, I can’t help but feel we’re missing more of Pecola’s voice. While Pecola is always present she’s often on the sidelines, invisible. Although, two parents so immersed in their own trauma that they don’t emotionally nourish their daughter and a young Black girl who feels invisible doesn’t seem like too much of a stretch.

Let me be clear though, this book is brilliant. The passages are bold and stunning and yes, heavy and heartbreaking. Morrison is ambitious in the themes she explores in her debut; sexual abuse, mental health, poverty, internalized racism, and inter-generational trauma; there’s a sense that she found her calling and needed to get as many ideas as possible on the page. Her undeniable voice and badass style are in full form, with so many moments taking my breath away. I can’t wait to jump into Sula, my 3rd Morrison, and continue exploring the gifts and that she left us.

BOOK REVIEW | Such a Fun Age by Kiley Reid

3/5 stars

I was initially incredibly hard on this book. It’s up for literary awards and is touted a contemporary work on racism. As I read on, I contemplated putting it down many times; it just wasn’t a book for me. However, I kept reading, and around half way through I realized I needed to take the book less seriously – this is entertainment. Once I put away my expectations for the book, I was able to enjoy it as a fun page-turner.

The story surrounds Alix, a wealthy, white, influencer, and mother of two and Emira, her young, Black, babysitter. One night, Alix calls Emira in a panic: she needs an emergency babysitter. While Emira is out passing the time with her young, white, charge she is subject to racial profiling and becomes the star of the next would be viral video. At Emira’s request, the white man who records the incident promises he won’t share the video publicly.

What follows is a fast-paced story that touches on racism, specifically white savior complex and performative action, as well as the victimization and commodification of Black people. In this story, Emira serves a specific role in the narrative of Alix’s carefully curated life. I initially thought I was supposed like Alix, but once I realized she’s kind of the villain of the story I was able to enjoy it much more. The last quarter of this book was completely entertaining and almost reads like a thriller. Overall, a fun and timely book that address critical issues with a lightness many readers will enjoy. I’m more the heavy type myself, but I understand this book’s appeal.

BOOK REVIEW | Mongrels by Stephen Graham Jones

3/5 stars

Mongrels is a coming of age story for our young narrator – he’s approaching puberty and anxiously waiting to see if he’ll “wolf out”, joining his family lineage of werewolves. Both gruesome and charming, this is a surprisingly tender story.

This can be read as a allegory of a culture of people living on the outskirts of society, outcast by their savage qualities. Or, this can be read as a fun and gnarly horror story. Jones expertly entwines social commentary with gore and werewolf lore, making this a truly fun read.

Jones utilizes the Indigenous tradition of storytelling to educate both the narrator and reader in werewolf lore and best practices. The werewolf rules outlined in the book were, hands down, the most fun part of the journey for me. Make sure your garbage cans are always empty, denim is the preferred choice of pants, and if you’re a werewolf never, under any circumstances, wear pantyhose. The explanation will delight and disgust horror fans!

Overall, an entertaining and touching story of a boy trying to find himself. Gory with a side of heart 🖤

BOOK REVIEW | Corregidora by Gayl Jones

5/5 stars

Corregidora meets its readers at the intersection of racial and sexual trauma. This powerful book, first published in 1975, tells the story of Ursa Corregdira as she reckons with both her violent family history and her experience as a woman navigating her own intimate relationships.

Ursa is a talented blues singer, making her living performing in bars. After a violent encounter with her husband leaves her unable to have children, she becomes consumed with the generations that came before her, and the generations that she can no longer produce. Told though conversations, inner-dialogue, and memory, we piece together a painful family history passed down from Corregidora’s grandmother and mother.

There’s so much packed into this short book, from a woman’s right to sexual autonomy, to the psychological impact of the male gaze, to the lingering effects of intergenerational trauma. What struck me the most was the sense of loneliness. Ursa is desired for her talent as a singer and for her body, but rarely for who she is – the intersectionality of black womanhood that is still relevant today. She contends with her inability to “make generations”, which highlights the question of what society values in a woman.

The language in this book is extremely raw and visceral with an transparency unlike anything I’ve read before. The prose is colloquial and accessible which allows you to feel deeply for and with Ursa. Corregiadora is the most honest portrayal of womanhood I’ve encountered, and I am so incredibly glad to have discovered Gayl Jones.

BOOK REVIEW | Girl, Woman, Other by Bernardine Evaristo

5/5 stars

I knew from the first page that I was going to love this book. It’s heavily stylistic but compulsively readable. Broken down into 4 sections and an epilogue, we follow the lives of 12 primarily black British women. There are mothers and daughters, friends and lovers, wealthy and working class, young and old. The stories range in time from 1905 to present day – Evaristo covers ample ground with ease.

We’re first introduced to the effervescent Amma, a successful feminist playwright. Amma is the axis which many of the other stories spin around. Everyone connects to Amma in one way or another: we learn about her business partner Dominique and daughter Yazz, and later we see certain characters as attendees at Amma’s latest play, connecting solely through her art. The interconnectedness is masterfully crafted and it was a joy to read through each of these stories, slowly piecing together a history of black British womanhood.

I felt more connected to some of the women than others, but laughed, cried, and experienced pain with all of them. I was particularly invested in Dominique, who ends up in a relationship she needs to escape from, LaTisha, who falls for men too easily, Bummi, who finds the love of her life but is fearful of what it means, Carole, who rejects her African roots to embrace a posh lifestyle, and Grace, who loses baby after baby after baby in a time when providing her husband an heir is required.

Evaristo won a Booker award for this work, and is currently a Women’s Prize finalist. The accolades are absolutely deserved! It’s a sweeping, grand, beautifully crafted work. If you’re looking for a book to get lost in, this is it.

BOOK REVIEW | Beloved by Toni Morrison

5/5 stars

What can I say about Beloved that hasn’t been said before? It’s a truly remarkable work.

This is the raw and powerful story of Sethe, a woman who escaped slavery, but not before committing a horrific act as a way of keeping her children from becoming slaves as well. Eighteen years later, Sethe is haunted by her past. Morrison examines both the lasting effects of slavery, as well as the mental health of the enslaved.

Morrison is otherworldly in her prose; poetic, intimate, explicit – I caught my breath more than once while reading certain passages. The first was early on in the book when Sethe tells her lover, Paul D, that she has a tree on her back. Paul looks at her tree post-coitus and instead sees the gnarled scars left behind after a brutal whipping. It’s a sad, graphic moment, and when I first understood the power of Morrison’s craft.

A heavy, dense story that commands your attention, but it’s worth every bit of the effort. A book to be read over and over again.