Reviews

Lo Que Te Pertenece/ What Belongs to You by Garth Greenwell

Only show reviews with written explanations

pnwbibliophile's review against another edition

emotional reflective sad slow-paced

Plot- or character-driven? A mix
Strong character development? Yes
Loveable characters? Yes
Diverse cast of characters? N/A
Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

5.0

In What Belongs to You, we are immersed in a harsh and unforgiving Sofia, Bulgaria where we follow the story of an American professor who falls into a complex relationship with a male sex worker. As we follow the two men, we find the professor feels forever tainted by his queerness, which stems from a tragic but eloquently written paternal castigation and disownment. The sex worker, Mitko, is tainted by poverty’s ilk and the hopelessness of his inability to escape it. They happen into a mutually beneficial yet predatory relationship which sets the narrator on a path of self-reflection. It is this reflection that sets this novel apart.

What I enjoyed most was how immersive the setting felt. Sophia felt authentic—full of beauty while decaying and languishing economically. It was as if the setting’s own misfortune paralleled Mitko’s own in a way tha felt intentional. This made me feel for the post-Communist states which are often still struggling because they were abused under communism and now under capitalism, much like Mitko. The lyrical prose, as well, put this on par with Call Me By Your Name, Giovani’s Room, and Shuggie Bain, which are some of my favorites in queer literary fiction.

Evocative prose, imagery, plot, setting, characters, and reflection are penned such that Garth Greenwell reveals he’s mastered not just one or two components but wields them all like a literary prodigy. This was a delight to read, despite being quite sad. Garth Greenwell gets added to my short list of authors that wowed me enough to become insta-reads.

konan557's review against another edition

Go to review page

dark emotional hopeful sad medium-paced

Plot- or character-driven? Character
Strong character development? No
Loveable characters? No
Diverse cast of characters? No
Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

3.5

rmontanar's review against another edition

Go to review page

emotional reflective sad medium-paced

4.25

sandpiiper's review against another edition

Go to review page

dark reflective slow-paced

Plot- or character-driven? Character
Strong character development? No
Loveable characters? It's complicated
Diverse cast of characters? No
Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.0

rmperezpadilla's review against another edition

Go to review page

emotional reflective sad slow-paced

Plot- or character-driven? Character
Strong character development? It's complicated
Loveable characters? It's complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.5

Content Warnings

gadicohen93's review against another edition

Go to review page

3.0

The original novella -- the first half of the book -- was deeply moving, an inevitably-broken travelogue pseudoromance that untangled the fine line of falling for someone you're paying to sleep with. The writing was subdued, evocative, hyperaware of the ways in which the smallest of human gestures and interactions can reveal deep insecurities. The main character evoked Ben Lerner's character in Leaving the Atocha Station in how separated he felt from the new European world around him and in how his inner thoughts juxtaposed with his outer interactions; he also was falling in a love that approximated Call Me By Your Name in how surprising, foreign, and unavoidably failed it was.

Then -- a long and awful stream-of-consciousness digression in the middle about the character's Midwestern upbringing, his father's rejection of him, his sisters' damaged psyches, etc. Yawn. Why do writers feel like en media res backstory is always good? It usually reads as gratuitous filler, a diversion from the pull of the concrete present to an abstract, peripheral, unwanted past.

The last third -- Mitko's fall from grace, nod to one Balkan neighbor -- was also prolonged (I am not especially interested in reading accounts of STD testing horror stories in post-Soviet states), but at least returned to the same observant and delicate voice of the first third. It was quite sad, but also echoed the hollowness of the romance.

I can't wait for the author to write about a real love someday, without all the childhood digressions.