A review by thebookishfeminist
Crosshairs by Catherine Hernandez

5.0

CW: transphobia, homophobia, assault.

CROSSHAIRS floored me. Catherine Hernandez is a brilliant and powerful writer who brings this dystopian society to life. It follows Kay, a Black drag queen who’s on the run after the extremist faction of government in the lands currently known as Toronto and Canada have put their racist, discriminatory, fascist beliefs into law. Kay has been on the run for months, hiding out with his friend, Liv, who’s part of the Resistance. Kay eventually has to run again, after Liv informs him that Toronto isn’t safe, and he gets picked up by a white Resistance member named Beck. Along the way, we also meet Bahadur and countless other Brown, Black, and queer folks who have been on the run and are fighting back against this oppressive regime taking over taking over the world.

There are some hefty trigger warnings for this, but Hernandez is an important voice and tells these stories respectfully and with the fire that they deserve. She addresses labor issues, capitalism, imperialism, colonialism, the hatred of “Others” that we are all too familiar with in 2020. She brings up Indigenous identity alongside Black and queer characters, and the true intersectionality of this book is a work of art in and of itself. I suppose sometimes it’s a bit obvious that she’s trying to be intentionally inclusive and diverse, but to be honest I think that’s what it takes in literature. We need to be blatant and intentional with who’s getting portrayed in texts so we normalize inclusivity and intersectionality, so I not only understand why Hernandez does this, I think it works and illustrates her message perfectly.

Now, plot wise, I wouldn’t say there’s anything completely unexpected. The dystopian world Hernandez creates has workhouses (read: concentration camps), a segment of extremists who are limiting the rights and ending lives of “Others,” another segment of the population - comprised of Others and allies - who’s revolting against the oppression. It doesn’t necessarily have any characteristics we haven’t seen before in other dystopian novels, with the glaring and fundamental exception of the truly inclusive nature of this story and its characters. But the fact that this world doesn’t feel surprising is actually one of the most remarkable things about Hernandez’ skill as a writer: she has successfully extrapolated our current situations - human rights abuses, political power and greed of the wealthy and corporations, racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic policies and people - to dystopian Toronto, and it feels eerily close to what we could all imagine happening if we don’t do something.

CROSSHAIRS compels us to sit in whatever privilege we might have, listen to other voices, reflect on our role in perpetuating oppressive systems and what people not from our own communities are saying and experiencing, and then act. Avoiding the realities portrayed in CROSSHAIRS will take an act of revolution, and Hernandez doesn’t just bring that revolution to life for us - it feels like she’s making a prediction for us.