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A review by shilohskye
Rafts by Utunu
5.0
The more I think about Rafts, the more I appreciate it. The novel’s takes some bold and unexpected paths, and I’m eager to talk about them. Here’s my review:
Rafts follows a clam diver named Kunet who, after a dangerous storm, becomes stranded on a beautiful island paradise with a particularly muscular and silly gnoll named Shima. As expected of a romance novel, the two fall in love as they navigate their shared predicament.
That’s a pretty standard setup, but standard setups are often perfect for building more complex ideas upon. Utunu certainly succeeds in that by making some unexpected decisions with where to take this story. This is far more than a quick romance novel. Much more on that later.
The main characters here are very different people, which is part of their charm. Kunet is resourceful, open-minded, inquisitive, and a bit of a worrier. Shima is a carefree goofball with a heart of gold and a skill for brightening moods. These differences complement each other: Shima can motivate and encourage Kunet, and Kunet keeps Shima on task and makes him feel appreciated. Without spoiling much, I think this is best showcased from learning each other’s languages. Shima learns Kunet’s language to help fulfill Kunet’s need for communication and to make him more comfortable. Kunet learns Shima’s language to show how much he cares and to bring them closer together. Using language learning as an intimate and meaningful relationship builder was already great on its own, but doing so in a way that develops the characters and shows why their relationship works was even better. I often complain about romances where I cannot explain by the end of the book why the characters love each other. That is not a problem here.
The story is heavier on narrative than on story or plot, meaning that much of the novel is focused on Kunet’s thoughts and interpretations rather than on momentous events. This is a rather short novel. It doesn’t stretch things out longer than needed, and it doesn’t insert unnecessary conflict. There is very little drama here. When it comes to intensity, the book is practically slice of life. That’s not to say it’s boring, however. The book moves fast. (Perhaps a little too fast, sometimes.) So it keeps you engaged despite the lack of mounting conflict. I myself read it in one sitting and was never bored. I think the relationship itself, and Kunet’s first-person contemplations that really help you get in his head, are interesting enough to keep the reader’s attention.
Now here’s the one criticism I have for the book that I’m pretty sure only editors like me care about: The prose perhaps leaves a bit to be desired at times. I believe that’s mostly because of how fast the book moves at certain points. The writing sometimes felt like it was in a hurry, taking very little time to stop and smell the roses. For example, it takes just six short pages for Kunet to do some clam diving, bring his boat into his village, talk about his family, help prep the village for an incoming storm, describe some religious stuff, get swept out to sea, and find himself on a raft with Shima. Six pages. It gave me some whiplash. I understand moving quickly past the village stuff, since that’s not what the book is really about (more on that in the spoilers section), but it didn’t give me a great first impression. I point this out to make sure that you don’t put the book down in the first chapter if you’re a nerd about writing styles like me. It’s worth sticking around.
Somewhat related to the prose, this book includes some beautiful illustrations that really compliment the story. There were a few pages where the text was wrapped creatively around the images. The playful way this was done could even sometimes compliment the tone of a scene. I think that was great, and it's something I’d love to see more of in furry fiction since art is often such a big part of it.
Thematically, the book has a lot to say about the theme of sanctuary: finding paradise from a complicated outside world. But to learn more about that, you’ll need to read the spoiler section of this review.
To sum it up, if you have yet to read Rafts, be sure to do so. It’s a quick read that will especially hit hard with gay furries. I’d go as far as saying it’s essential furry literature at the moment.
Beware: spoilers ahead.
And here is the part of the review where I step up on my soapbox and describe what really struck me about this book.
As I’ve said above, the novel takes some bold and unexpected paths. For this spoiler section, I want to highlight the unexpected path that gave me a sudden respect for this novel and, in my opinion, transformed it from “good” to “great”.
The beginning of the story may be extremely condensed, which creates a pacing issue, but the author wasn’t wrong in keeping the details here extremely sparse. We’re told Kunet is a clam diver who prides himself in his role. We’re told the name of his mother, his baby brother, and a few acquaintances. In six pages, that’s all over, and he’s stranded on a raft in the middle of the ocean. This left me scratching my head on my first readthrough. Why gloss over so much information that’s doubtlessly vital to understanding this world and our main characters? From what I knew of Utunu’s work, that isn’t something he usually fumbles. So what gives?
I got my answer about 100 pages later.
After thriving on the island together for a few years, Kunet and Shima decide it’s time to leave the island and journey back into the world. It felt very cliché. I found myself predicting exactly how this story was going to go down: They’d leave the island, return to their villages, deal with some sort of conflict that is eventually resolved, and live happily ever after.
So Kunet and Shima build a raft, they bring it to the water, and they…decide not to return.
Yeah, they just…push the raft into the sea and decide to stay on the island together instead. No return to civilization. No conflict with the outside world. No brooding about whether such a thing is morally right or wrong.
Huh…this book just got good.
That’s when I realized why the beginning of the story doesn’t give much detail about Kunet and Shima’s lives before the island: It’s not what the story is about.
I’m a fan of stories that explore the theme of sanctuary—especially as it relates to gay relationships. There’s something crushingly applicable to the real world in such stories. Our society is hostile to gay relationships, so many of us create safe places where we can be ourselves and not have to constantly advocate for our own existence. These spaces range from something as communal as a gay bar to something as personal as an apartment. Rarely, however, do we get to stay in these sanctuaries indefinitely. Most of us must go to our jobs, stay woke to current events, and fight just to love who we love and be who we want to be. So, the theme of sanctuary sparks a lot of potential for moral conflict. If you find a perfect sanctuary, should you still feel an obligation to the outside world? Should you leave your sanctuary to go help or save that world? Even if the world is hostile toward you? Is this selfish indulgence? And if so, is it wrong?
I so rarely find a story with the guts to have its characters reject the outside world entirely and stay in their sanctuary (outside of romance novels that aren’t concerned with thematic depth, of course). There’s usually an overwhelming sense of responsibility that makes the characters go back. Perhaps some obligation, or even the argument that it is morally wrong for them to stay in paradise while the outside world struggles. Kunet and Shima both have families. They have villages that expect things from them. Responsibilities. Jobs to do. And they just…decide not to return.
They feel very little guilt over it, too. Kunet has a few lines mulling it over, and he later sends a message with some gnolls who come across their island, but that’s it. The rest of the book is Kunet and Shima being carefree and happy. They live the rest of their lives barely giving the outside world a second thought. What they have in each other is beautiful, and perhaps it would be wrong for them not to do everything they can to preserve it.
The cherry on top is that the book doesn’t bash you over the head with this. Much of this theming is done in the subtext, which is far more artful than outright stating the message. Whether intentional by the author or not, it resulted in a brilliant depth to the novel that I thoroughly enjoyed exploring.
I hope that gives you some idea of why Rafts gained my respect. It brought a rare, meaningful perspective to a relatable and relevant theme, and I think that more than earns it my recommendation.
Rafts follows a clam diver named Kunet who, after a dangerous storm, becomes stranded on a beautiful island paradise with a particularly muscular and silly gnoll named Shima. As expected of a romance novel, the two fall in love as they navigate their shared predicament.
That’s a pretty standard setup, but standard setups are often perfect for building more complex ideas upon. Utunu certainly succeeds in that by making some unexpected decisions with where to take this story. This is far more than a quick romance novel. Much more on that later.
The main characters here are very different people, which is part of their charm. Kunet is resourceful, open-minded, inquisitive, and a bit of a worrier. Shima is a carefree goofball with a heart of gold and a skill for brightening moods. These differences complement each other: Shima can motivate and encourage Kunet, and Kunet keeps Shima on task and makes him feel appreciated. Without spoiling much, I think this is best showcased from learning each other’s languages. Shima learns Kunet’s language to help fulfill Kunet’s need for communication and to make him more comfortable. Kunet learns Shima’s language to show how much he cares and to bring them closer together. Using language learning as an intimate and meaningful relationship builder was already great on its own, but doing so in a way that develops the characters and shows why their relationship works was even better. I often complain about romances where I cannot explain by the end of the book why the characters love each other. That is not a problem here.
The story is heavier on narrative than on story or plot, meaning that much of the novel is focused on Kunet’s thoughts and interpretations rather than on momentous events. This is a rather short novel. It doesn’t stretch things out longer than needed, and it doesn’t insert unnecessary conflict. There is very little drama here. When it comes to intensity, the book is practically slice of life. That’s not to say it’s boring, however. The book moves fast. (Perhaps a little too fast, sometimes.) So it keeps you engaged despite the lack of mounting conflict. I myself read it in one sitting and was never bored. I think the relationship itself, and Kunet’s first-person contemplations that really help you get in his head, are interesting enough to keep the reader’s attention.
Now here’s the one criticism I have for the book that I’m pretty sure only editors like me care about: The prose perhaps leaves a bit to be desired at times. I believe that’s mostly because of how fast the book moves at certain points. The writing sometimes felt like it was in a hurry, taking very little time to stop and smell the roses. For example, it takes just six short pages for Kunet to do some clam diving, bring his boat into his village, talk about his family, help prep the village for an incoming storm, describe some religious stuff, get swept out to sea, and find himself on a raft with Shima. Six pages. It gave me some whiplash. I understand moving quickly past the village stuff, since that’s not what the book is really about (more on that in the spoilers section), but it didn’t give me a great first impression. I point this out to make sure that you don’t put the book down in the first chapter if you’re a nerd about writing styles like me. It’s worth sticking around.
Somewhat related to the prose, this book includes some beautiful illustrations that really compliment the story. There were a few pages where the text was wrapped creatively around the images. The playful way this was done could even sometimes compliment the tone of a scene. I think that was great, and it's something I’d love to see more of in furry fiction since art is often such a big part of it.
Thematically, the book has a lot to say about the theme of sanctuary: finding paradise from a complicated outside world. But to learn more about that, you’ll need to read the spoiler section of this review.
To sum it up, if you have yet to read Rafts, be sure to do so. It’s a quick read that will especially hit hard with gay furries. I’d go as far as saying it’s essential furry literature at the moment.
Beware: spoilers ahead.
And here is the part of the review where I step up on my soapbox and describe what really struck me about this book.
As I’ve said above, the novel takes some bold and unexpected paths. For this spoiler section, I want to highlight the unexpected path that gave me a sudden respect for this novel and, in my opinion, transformed it from “good” to “great”.
The beginning of the story may be extremely condensed, which creates a pacing issue, but the author wasn’t wrong in keeping the details here extremely sparse. We’re told Kunet is a clam diver who prides himself in his role. We’re told the name of his mother, his baby brother, and a few acquaintances. In six pages, that’s all over, and he’s stranded on a raft in the middle of the ocean. This left me scratching my head on my first readthrough. Why gloss over so much information that’s doubtlessly vital to understanding this world and our main characters? From what I knew of Utunu’s work, that isn’t something he usually fumbles. So what gives?
I got my answer about 100 pages later.
After thriving on the island together for a few years, Kunet and Shima decide it’s time to leave the island and journey back into the world. It felt very cliché. I found myself predicting exactly how this story was going to go down: They’d leave the island, return to their villages, deal with some sort of conflict that is eventually resolved, and live happily ever after.
So Kunet and Shima build a raft, they bring it to the water, and they…decide not to return.
Yeah, they just…push the raft into the sea and decide to stay on the island together instead. No return to civilization. No conflict with the outside world. No brooding about whether such a thing is morally right or wrong.
Huh…this book just got good.
That’s when I realized why the beginning of the story doesn’t give much detail about Kunet and Shima’s lives before the island: It’s not what the story is about.
I’m a fan of stories that explore the theme of sanctuary—especially as it relates to gay relationships. There’s something crushingly applicable to the real world in such stories. Our society is hostile to gay relationships, so many of us create safe places where we can be ourselves and not have to constantly advocate for our own existence. These spaces range from something as communal as a gay bar to something as personal as an apartment. Rarely, however, do we get to stay in these sanctuaries indefinitely. Most of us must go to our jobs, stay woke to current events, and fight just to love who we love and be who we want to be. So, the theme of sanctuary sparks a lot of potential for moral conflict. If you find a perfect sanctuary, should you still feel an obligation to the outside world? Should you leave your sanctuary to go help or save that world? Even if the world is hostile toward you? Is this selfish indulgence? And if so, is it wrong?
I so rarely find a story with the guts to have its characters reject the outside world entirely and stay in their sanctuary (outside of romance novels that aren’t concerned with thematic depth, of course). There’s usually an overwhelming sense of responsibility that makes the characters go back. Perhaps some obligation, or even the argument that it is morally wrong for them to stay in paradise while the outside world struggles. Kunet and Shima both have families. They have villages that expect things from them. Responsibilities. Jobs to do. And they just…decide not to return.
They feel very little guilt over it, too. Kunet has a few lines mulling it over, and he later sends a message with some gnolls who come across their island, but that’s it. The rest of the book is Kunet and Shima being carefree and happy. They live the rest of their lives barely giving the outside world a second thought. What they have in each other is beautiful, and perhaps it would be wrong for them not to do everything they can to preserve it.
The cherry on top is that the book doesn’t bash you over the head with this. Much of this theming is done in the subtext, which is far more artful than outright stating the message. Whether intentional by the author or not, it resulted in a brilliant depth to the novel that I thoroughly enjoyed exploring.
I hope that gives you some idea of why Rafts gained my respect. It brought a rare, meaningful perspective to a relatable and relevant theme, and I think that more than earns it my recommendation.