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koreanlinda's review
challenging
dark
emotional
funny
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
sad
tense
fast-paced
4.0
This book is deeply sad. Sad, sad, sad. The only reason I could trudge through the dark pages of JVN’s life was that I knew that he is still alive and is at a much lighter place. Maybe one more reason is that the story was delivered to me through his own voice, full of spunk.
If you oversimplify this book, it is a typical growing-up story of a gay boy in the modern United States. However, because JVN does a great job of sharing the details of his personal experiences, including his birth and chosen family members, the story holds its unique appeal. Also, what might have made the book typical is the series of all the challenges that JVN faced because of his queer identity: bullying, identity issue, sexual violence, poverty, addiction, sexual exploitation, substance abuse, and HIV, which are all so common in the lives of many other queer people in this country.
I get triggered by physically and sexually violent materials, but I was relatively okay with them in this book. Instead of sensationalizing graphic details, JVN focuses on his vulnerability and processing of each traumatic event. Despite all the sorrow embedded in his childhood and 20s, the book emits a positive energy because of JVN’s loud and proud self-love that he have nurtured during his recovery. This fulfills one of his explicit purposes of writing this book: sending love and hope to the struggling children and teenagers.
One major hole in JVN’s positivity and self-love is ableism. He often attributes the success of recovery or societal advancement to the individual’s determination and prudence, which is an inaccurate interpretation of reality. For example, he explains that his grandmother was able to beat cancer because of her mental strength. Although mental health affects the patient’s recovery from cancer, it is not a direct cause of successful recovery. Fortunately, JVN repeatedly acknowledges that he was able to recover from his hardships thanks to the safety net he had, which he also acknowledges as not available to everyone.
Apart from this issue of ableism in parts of the book, it provides abundant information about how trauma and mental illness affects a person. Above all, I appreciate the most how JVN shares the most shameful moments of his life with the readers. He says, “when you’re a survivor of abuse, living in chaos can be the most upsetting yet comforting thing in the world”; “I was just so ravaged emotionally that I had to ravage my body too.”
One last bit that I want to point out is the fluidity of JVN’s gender identity in action. He uses a variety of words and pronouns that crisscross gender boundaries, from queen to girlfriends, from he to they to she. How he identifies his gender varies by the circumstance and context, and he freely expresses it throughout the book.
Review by Linda (she/they)
Twitter @KoreanLinda
Letter writer at DefinitelyNotOkay.com
If you oversimplify this book, it is a typical growing-up story of a gay boy in the modern United States. However, because JVN does a great job of sharing the details of his personal experiences, including his birth and chosen family members, the story holds its unique appeal. Also, what might have made the book typical is the series of all the challenges that JVN faced because of his queer identity: bullying, identity issue, sexual violence, poverty, addiction, sexual exploitation, substance abuse, and HIV, which are all so common in the lives of many other queer people in this country.
I get triggered by physically and sexually violent materials, but I was relatively okay with them in this book. Instead of sensationalizing graphic details, JVN focuses on his vulnerability and processing of each traumatic event. Despite all the sorrow embedded in his childhood and 20s, the book emits a positive energy because of JVN’s loud and proud self-love that he have nurtured during his recovery. This fulfills one of his explicit purposes of writing this book: sending love and hope to the struggling children and teenagers.
One major hole in JVN’s positivity and self-love is ableism. He often attributes the success of recovery or societal advancement to the individual’s determination and prudence, which is an inaccurate interpretation of reality. For example, he explains that his grandmother was able to beat cancer because of her mental strength. Although mental health affects the patient’s recovery from cancer, it is not a direct cause of successful recovery. Fortunately, JVN repeatedly acknowledges that he was able to recover from his hardships thanks to the safety net he had, which he also acknowledges as not available to everyone.
Apart from this issue of ableism in parts of the book, it provides abundant information about how trauma and mental illness affects a person. Above all, I appreciate the most how JVN shares the most shameful moments of his life with the readers. He says, “when you’re a survivor of abuse, living in chaos can be the most upsetting yet comforting thing in the world”; “I was just so ravaged emotionally that I had to ravage my body too.”
One last bit that I want to point out is the fluidity of JVN’s gender identity in action. He uses a variety of words and pronouns that crisscross gender boundaries, from queen to girlfriends, from he to they to she. How he identifies his gender varies by the circumstance and context, and he freely expresses it throughout the book.
Review by Linda (she/they)
Twitter @KoreanLinda
Letter writer at DefinitelyNotOkay.com
Content Warnings
Graphic: Ableism, Drug abuse, Homophobia, Mental illness, Sexual content, and Transphobia
Moderate: Cancer and Death
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