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Graphic: Homophobia, Racism
Moderate: Racial slurs, Sexism, Xenophobia
Minor: Forced institutionalization
- I truly felt like I was in 1950s San Francisco with Lily and her friends and family.
- LAST NIGHT AT THE TELEGRAPH CLUB feels special in so many ways - the main one being that it's queer historical fiction that isn't about white people.
- I loved the timelines Lo included periodically throughout the book, which really helped contextualize Lily's experience as well as the experiences of her older family members.
- I appreciated that while the ending did have a note of hope, everything wasn't all fixed and perfect - it felt very true to life.
Graphic: Homophobia, Misogyny, Racial slurs, Racism, Sexism, Sexual content
Moderate: Miscarriage
Moderate: Racism
Minor: Homophobia, Sexism
Graphic: Homophobia, Racism, Sexism, Xenophobia
Graphic: Homophobia, Racial slurs, Racism, Sexism, Sexual content, Xenophobia
Moderate: Child abuse, Violence, Police brutality
Graphic: Homophobia, Racism
Moderate: Miscarriage, Misogyny, Sexism, Sexual content
Minor: Forced institutionalization
The story's intersectional lens is invaluable, especially considering the time period during which it is set. The 1950's in California were a very fraught time politically, racially, and socially. This was a time period where it was still considered unusual (and "unnecessary") for women to continue to their education. It was a time when interracial marriage was not yet legal, much less "same-sex" marriage or partnerships. It was when Red-Scare paranoia was reaching a fever pitch, and Chinese immigrants and Chinese-American citizens were being deported and discriminated against under the premise of being "Communist loyalists." As young, queer Chinese-American girl, Lily has to contend with all of these issues and figure out how to navigate a world that's very much against her.
What will inevitably stick with me from this book is the way it easily could've been about trauma, repression, and the internalization of homophobia—but instead, the overarching feeling that stems from this story if one of warmth, belonging, and self-discovery. Make no mistake, it is a historically accurate narrative that addresses the all-too-real obstacles and hardships that queer people of color, especially, had to deal with during this time period, but it's more so about Lily finding ways to work around those obstacles and fighting for those few-and-far-between moments where she is free to express herself. It's about how those hardships existed, yes, but for every hardship, there was a way around it—there was a vibrant counterculture of queer people existing and thriving and loving each other.
The story brilliantly captures that feeling of discovering where you belong, discovering safe spaces, and that surrender of allowing yourself to just take it all in. Those moments of Lily first entering the Telegraph Club and instinctually recognizing this dynamic, code-switching counterculture were intoxicating for me, because she's finally able to understand all the feelings she's been taught to deny and erase. More importantly, the Telegraph Club is a place that represents queer futurity and queer normalcy. For someone as young as Lily to see queer adults living their lives, forging relationships, holding everyday jobs, and celebrating their queerness out loud is life-changing. It gives her the confidence to stay true to herself, even if it would be easier to live out the "normal" life that's been laid out for her.
To that end, I think one of the most effective themes in the story is an exploration of performance. As a scientifically-minded Chinese-American young woman living through the Red-Scare, Lily is constantly confronted with need to cultivate a certain "image." She has to be "a good Chinese girl" to keep her family happy, she has to present herself as "American first" in order to distance herself from "Communist sympathizers" in her community, and she has to keep her interests appropriate for "what suits a young lady." And, of course, she has to hide her queerness, which would be deemed as scandalous, illegal, and shameful. So she is constantly having to perform the role of the "perfect Chinese daughter," while also being encouraged to pursue and emulate whiteness, while also suppressing her authentic desires and feelings.
Being able to "pass" in any given situation requires a certain performance, and because of that, performance is often a means of survival. As the story progresses, I think Lily is beginning to understand the tenuous relationship between "performing" and "masking," and she's learning where it's safe to drop that performance and just be herself. We also seen an aspect of literal performance at the Telegraph Club, with the headlining male impersonator known as "Tommy Andrews." This goes to show that while we may "perform" in order to hide or conceal, we also perform to lean into our authenticity and our differences, especially when our instinct to self-preserve tells us to pull back. Lily learns a great deal about living out loud, and how the most important parts of herself don't simply disappear when she occupies different spaces.
Overall, this such a beautiful story of self-discovery, queer desire, and carving out space for yourself in a world that could never anticipate you. It's about tender first love, queer community, found family, and staying true to yourself even in the most trying of times. This is, by far, one of the best historical fiction books I've ever read, and I know I'll be recommending it far and wide for years to come!
Graphic: Homophobia, Sexism
Moderate: Racism, Sexual content, Xenophobia
Graphic: Homophobia, Racial slurs, Racism
Moderate: Misogyny, Sexism, Sexual assault, Religious bigotry
Minor: Miscarriage