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heroicfrenzies's review
emotional
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
Isaac Fellman’s February 22nd release Dead Collections is, at its core, a novel about being a trans man. There are archives, vampires, and movie theaters, but there’s also complicated romance, questions about queer futurity, and misplaced packers.
The descriptions of this book allude to something mysterious happening at the archives where the trans main character, Sol, works (and lives [well, resides]). And while that mysterious something is present in the book, the novel is not a long-lost-tome style academic mystery. This story is present, but the novel itself isn’t about that at all.
Similarly, Elsie, the love interest, is the widow of a writer known for writing a sci-fi television show. When we meet Elsie, she’s donating her late wife’s collection of unpublished writings and correspondences. Sol and Elsie have a fast-paced, steamy romance, but again, this isn’t a dark broody vampire meets a lonely widow romance. That story is also present, but again, not what the novel is about.
The archival mystery and the steamy romance are the more explicit plots that weave through the story, but Dead Collections is ultimately an exploration of trans identity. It maps out the intersectional struggles brought on by being a trans man as well as a vampire, and how they complicate such things as holding down a job, pursuing relationships, and simply maintaining the meat we are all obligated to lug around. The book focuses on the small, practical concerns that Sol faces, and the emphasis on the practical feels real in the same way that many marginalized people are never not aware of their bodies, and how much space those bodies take up. (As something of an aside, Sol refers to his vampirism as an illness, and the comparison here is very apt considering the awareness he has of his condition and the ways in which it drastically impacts him trying to achieve even the most mundane of tasks.) Sol, it seems, is exhausted by simply trying to maintain his life.
In addition to being discriminated against for a myriad of reasons, Sol either has previously found solutions for, or is actively trying to find solutions for medical care, shelter, income, and transportation, with a few of these being problems that arise within the book itself. And, on top of all of this, Sol is then made aware of strange incidents happening to the collections at the archive, and the last third of the book is him trying to solve that problem.
There are things I loved about this book that outweigh most of the criticisms that I have, but for the sake of transparency I do want to touch on those criticisms:
1. I want to note that I really wish this book was longer and spent more time with the mystery aspect, perhaps building it up slower. It’s present earlier in the book, but it doesn’t escalate smoothly. The book feels as if it was cut down to a word count, and so much of the novel was so lovingly rendered that the few clunky bits stand out. (That being said, I’m also a complete slut for the gothic novel, so maybe this is me trying to force it into an unrelated narrative framework)
2.Any other criticisms I have are largely with the character’s way of thinking rather than with the book itself. And that’s not a fault of the book or the author, but a part of the personality of the character himself. In fact, Fellman wrote around Sol’s shortcomings in a delicate and very deliberate way that made reading it feel authentic in its cognitive dissonance. The way Sol finds himself objectifying people and equating body parts (and blood with specific hormone levels) with gender, for example, are uncomfortable to read, but Sol seems to understand these shortcomings.
There are two specific moments that I can recall where this way of thinking made me question Sol’s view of non-medically transitioning trans people (whether by choice or by necessity) and how people present their gender identity. One occurs a couple of times, and it refers to the blood he prefers when he’s at the vampire clinic. Sol prefers men’s blood for the testosterone levels, but this direct correlation between men and testosterone levels is deeply problematic for a slew of obvious reasons. The other incident was a sex scene where, because Sol is gay, he has to imagine facial hair on the person he’s having sex with to be able to imagine them as a man. These thoughts and obstacles can be common for trans people, especially binary trans people who have a somewhat binary sexuality. These thoughts are also uncomfortable because it can be difficult to navigate the overlap of one’s gender and sexuality and how they interact or refuse to complement each other.
Unfortunately, the preference for men’s blood is never interrogated within the book – and is in fact justified when he drinks “women’s” blood and the hormonal shifts that happen because of it – but he at least allows his sexuality to develop in a way that is inclusive of not only cis men. But as I said, these are Sol’s shortcomings as a character; Fellman, as far as I can tell, has not verified that Sol’s assumptions about the hormones in the blood are sound within this universe. If that has been verified elsewhere and I haven’t seen it, however, I will have to return to this review.
One thing that this book demonstrates is that we, trans people, also need to understand that gender is not simply the sum of our various parts, no matter where we are in our transition – which is so often a fallacy shared by cisgender people. Sol’s journey throughout this book bolsters this point and the way he views himself and that character’s gender develops with Sol’s growing self-assurance and confidence.
A short list of things that I love about this book:
• The love interest is big (Fellman doesn’t use the word fat, but Elsie would probably be considered if not fat, then at least overweight);
• Elsie and Sol are both around 40 years old (this is including Sol’s years as a vampire);
• Sol is Jewish (we don’t get nearly enough Jewish vampires, but I can understand why);
• The details given about archival work (gush);
• Exploring trans identity and fandom;
• The specificity of the sex acts (I love how casually the book talks about sex, as well as the conversations involved and how those conversations can take place between people who have gender dysphoria);
• The communication! (The clear setting of boundaries, the respect of those boundaries, the articulation of explicit wants and needs – it was all very refreshing and a great example of how these conversations can happen in real life);
• That cover? *chef’s kiss*
The book is written in a quick, concise style but the internal moments we share with Sol are a bit more languid with denser prose.
I would recommend this book for anybody who has an interest in fandom. Feet of Clay, the fictional television show featured in the book, plays a pretty big part. A lot of YA books have come out in recent years about being in fandom, but there haven’t been nearly as many adult books about fandom that have been traditionally published, especially ones that take place after characters have left fandom spaces.
I would recommend this book to almost every trans man or trans masc person I know, as well as their partners. While the feelings generally associated with being trans or trans masc specifically are far from universal, having so many of those feelings explicitly voiced within a book, with a trans main character who falls in love, is refreshing. There can be so much alienation involved with being trans, and reading a book where the character is always aware of his body feels very very real. Many of the feelings shared in this book are hard to articulate, especially to loved ones who truly want the best for us. But being able to hand somebody the book, and just say “This, this is what it feels like,” is truly a gift.
I think that’s what makes this book so special: in addition to Sol being an archivist, his vampire body also exists as an archive, freezing his transition in a specific moment of time. The thing about archives though, is that the collection is only one part of the story, and Fellman has given us a character who’s struggling to change his context, to reorient himself, to redefine what life could ultimately mean.
The descriptions of this book allude to something mysterious happening at the archives where the trans main character, Sol, works (and lives [well, resides]). And while that mysterious something is present in the book, the novel is not a long-lost-tome style academic mystery. This story is present, but the novel itself isn’t about that at all.
Similarly, Elsie, the love interest, is the widow of a writer known for writing a sci-fi television show. When we meet Elsie, she’s donating her late wife’s collection of unpublished writings and correspondences. Sol and Elsie have a fast-paced, steamy romance, but again, this isn’t a dark broody vampire meets a lonely widow romance. That story is also present, but again, not what the novel is about.
The archival mystery and the steamy romance are the more explicit plots that weave through the story, but Dead Collections is ultimately an exploration of trans identity. It maps out the intersectional struggles brought on by being a trans man as well as a vampire, and how they complicate such things as holding down a job, pursuing relationships, and simply maintaining the meat we are all obligated to lug around. The book focuses on the small, practical concerns that Sol faces, and the emphasis on the practical feels real in the same way that many marginalized people are never not aware of their bodies, and how much space those bodies take up. (As something of an aside, Sol refers to his vampirism as an illness, and the comparison here is very apt considering the awareness he has of his condition and the ways in which it drastically impacts him trying to achieve even the most mundane of tasks.) Sol, it seems, is exhausted by simply trying to maintain his life.
In addition to being discriminated against for a myriad of reasons, Sol either has previously found solutions for, or is actively trying to find solutions for medical care, shelter, income, and transportation, with a few of these being problems that arise within the book itself. And, on top of all of this, Sol is then made aware of strange incidents happening to the collections at the archive, and the last third of the book is him trying to solve that problem.
There are things I loved about this book that outweigh most of the criticisms that I have, but for the sake of transparency I do want to touch on those criticisms:
1. I want to note that I really wish this book was longer and spent more time with the mystery aspect, perhaps building it up slower. It’s present earlier in the book, but it doesn’t escalate smoothly. The book feels as if it was cut down to a word count, and so much of the novel was so lovingly rendered that the few clunky bits stand out. (That being said, I’m also a complete slut for the gothic novel, so maybe this is me trying to force it into an unrelated narrative framework)
2.
There are two specific moments that I can recall where this way of thinking made me question Sol’s view of non-medically transitioning trans people (whether by choice or by necessity) and how people present their gender identity. One occurs a couple of times, and it refers to the blood he prefers when he’s at the vampire clinic. Sol prefers men’s blood for the testosterone levels, but this direct correlation between men and testosterone levels is deeply problematic for a slew of obvious reasons. The other incident was a sex scene where, because Sol is gay, he has to imagine facial hair on the person he’s having sex with to be able to imagine them as a man. These thoughts and obstacles can be common for trans people, especially binary trans people who have a somewhat binary sexuality. These thoughts are also uncomfortable because it can be difficult to navigate the overlap of one’s gender and sexuality and how they interact or refuse to complement each other.
Unfortunately, the preference for men’s blood is never interrogated within the book – and is in fact justified when he drinks “women’s” blood and the hormonal shifts that happen because of it – but he at least allows his sexuality to develop in a way that is inclusive of not only cis men. But as I said, these are Sol’s shortcomings as a character; Fellman, as far as I can tell, has not verified that Sol’s assumptions about the hormones in the blood are sound within this universe. If that has been verified elsewhere and I haven’t seen it, however, I will have to return to this review.
One thing that this book demonstrates is that we, trans people, also need to understand that gender is not simply the sum of our various parts, no matter where we are in our transition – which is so often a fallacy shared by cisgender people. Sol’s journey throughout this book bolsters this point and the way he views himself and that character’s gender develops with Sol’s growing self-assurance and confidence.
A short list of things that I love about this book:
• The love interest is big (Fellman doesn’t use the word fat, but Elsie would probably be considered if not fat, then at least overweight);
• Elsie and Sol are both around 40 years old (this is including Sol’s years as a vampire);
• Sol is Jewish (we don’t get nearly enough Jewish vampires, but I can understand why);
• The details given about archival work (gush);
• Exploring trans identity and fandom;
• The specificity of the sex acts (I love how casually the book talks about sex, as well as the conversations involved and how those conversations can take place between people who have gender dysphoria);
• The communication! (The clear setting of boundaries, the respect of those boundaries, the articulation of explicit wants and needs – it was all very refreshing and a great example of how these conversations can happen in real life);
• That cover? *chef’s kiss*
The book is written in a quick, concise style but the internal moments we share with Sol are a bit more languid with denser prose.
I would recommend this book for anybody who has an interest in fandom. Feet of Clay, the fictional television show featured in the book, plays a pretty big part. A lot of YA books have come out in recent years about being in fandom, but there haven’t been nearly as many adult books about fandom that have been traditionally published, especially ones that take place after characters have left fandom spaces.
I would recommend this book to almost every trans man or trans masc person I know, as well as their partners. While the feelings generally associated with being trans or trans masc specifically are far from universal, having so many of those feelings explicitly voiced within a book, with a trans main character who falls in love, is refreshing. There can be so much alienation involved with being trans, and reading a book where the character is always aware of his body feels very very real. Many of the feelings shared in this book are hard to articulate, especially to loved ones who truly want the best for us. But being able to hand somebody the book, and just say “This, this is what it feels like,” is truly a gift.
I think that’s what makes this book so special: in addition to Sol being an archivist, his vampire body also exists as an archive, freezing his transition in a specific moment of time. The thing about archives though, is that the collection is only one part of the story, and Fellman has given us a character who’s struggling to change his context, to reorient himself, to redefine what life could ultimately mean.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Panic attacks/disorders, Dysphoria, and Sexual content
Moderate: Medical trauma and Blood
Minor: Car accident and Transphobia
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