A review by caughtbetweenpages
Luster by Raven Leilani

emotional reflective slow-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? Character
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? Yes
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.75

What an absolute masterclass of a novel. I am gobsmacked that this is a DEBUT. Before even getting into the content of Luster, I cannot overstate Leilani's mastery of language and the writing craft. She's sparing with her word count but it never feels as though she's leaving out any important descriptions or moments; every sentence counts, and most of them hold a poeticism (albeit, often a bleak one, though one that the Russian Greats would be proud to call their own) that makes them stick with you even after you shut the book.

Edie's struggle to discover herself and "come of age" without yet understanding what her identity is or what she wants it to be feels inevitable given the culmination of factors surrounding her life. Her attempts to find herself in men, in her art, in jobs she's told she's too Black or too promiscuous or not XYZ enough to be part of, are heartbreaking. She is so, desperately lonely. And then, her internal musings about the absurdity of applying to a million dead end jobs to make rent, or about how older men are not necessarily deep so much as they've just lived more life, pull a painful laugh out of you even if you don't want to be amused. If a reader in your life says they they like stories about messy, damaged female leads, put Luster in their hands. 

My favorite relationships of this book are between Edie and Rebecca and Edie and Akila. There's a complex dynamic with Rebecca where, while Edie might seem to have some power over Rebecca being the woman that R's husband is having an affair with, Rebecca is by far the one holding Edie's life in her hands. The scene where
Rebecca takes Edie to the punk show and they both get beaten up some in the pit
  Rebecca is clearly in control, having chosen to go there herself and being prepared for the violence of the moment, whereas Edie is very much drifting and only there because... well, how can she say no to Rebecca, given that
Rebecca could make her homeless in an instant? As she does later in the book, when she finds out Edie is pregnant!
It's a petty assertion of control, as many of Rebecca's actions are. And yet, Edie is drawn to that in some way, seeking the approval of this older woman whose life is comparatively easy and put together and resilient even to the point of being able to invite her husband's affair partner into her home. And yet! It's clear that Rebecca sees herself as the one who is put upon, the one who is the victim, despite having such control. It's a fascinating dynamic.

And then there's Akila and Edie. In many ways, Akila is who Edie must have been like as a kid--incredibly nerdy, passionate, artistic--and in other ways, she's who Edie is now--lost, a stranger in her own home. Lonely. Black in a context that is deeply unfriendly to Blackness. It was so touching to see Edie nurture Akila, not only protecting her from the racism of the police and her tutor and helping her take care of her natural hair in a way that Akila's (White, Adoptive) parents don't know how to, but in encouraging her art and storytelling and engaging with her on her interests. I think they very much needed each other, and it made it all the worse when
Edie got kicked out of the house and had to leave Akila
and Akila knew about it, and was so matter-of-fact. 

This was a difficult book to read, emotionally speaking. But so well worth it. 
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