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216 reviews
Real Life by Brandon Taylor
I was totally unprepared for how much I was invested in and gutted by this book.
Initially, you think this is going to be a Standard Campus Novel. We have a queer black PhD candidate (believe it’s biology?) approaching his 4th year, feeling uncertain of his place in his lab, amongst his friends, in academia, and as a Southern boy living in the Midwest. The central plot seemingly surrounds a sabotaged experiment, but as you read on, you begin to see the acute conflicts and pain inflicted upon Wallace from multiple sources. As Wallace struggles with belonging, you begin to question if that acceptance is possible or even worth the trouble.
There is a quiet brilliance woven through the entire novel. Jeremy O. Harris described Real Life as a novel that “excavates the profound from the mundane”, and I think that’s the perfect description. Wallace, at heart, is an observer constantly dissecting the people and the interactions around him. When a friend is worried about their boyfriend opening up their relationship, Wallace attributes this to really a fear of losing the “inoculation against the uncertainty of the future” that a relationship brings. When he is subject to microagressions and blatant racism by his peers, Wallace notes that in the rare times he raises the issue, he finds that white people hold his accusations “up to the light and try to discern if you are telling the truth…As if they can tell by the grain if something is racist or not, and they always trust their own judgement.” When he’s assaulted by a lover, who is reeling from exposing his deepest secrets, Wallace notes that the cruelty he experiences is a “conduit of pain…a delivery system, as in the way that certain viruses convey illness, disease, irreparable harm.” It’s in these moments that Taylor shines and I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. As Wallace takes the time to turn these astute observations inward, it peaks in a chapter where he recounts his past/family that is probably one of the most gut wrenching things I’ve read in my life.
There’s a lot of honesty in this book, even with Wallace admitting the ways he even has misjudged or characterized his friends, making it an even more compelling read.
The most human, but frustrating part, about this novel is the lack of confrontation or character development in Wallace. We do not see any retribution for the racism he experiences, or the physical abuse inflicted upon him by a lover, or just generally how awful (I think) his friends are. But sometimes, that’s Real Life 🤪. There’s no perfect resolution, but that does makes sense for a character who is committed to shedding the past in an attempt to become something new, but insincere, in the face of his community & environment.
This novel is special. It was still a Campus Novel, but to center a black and queer experience allowed for an added layer of reflection that was particularly poignant. I laughed in recognition at the Hell of doing anything within the sciences, the consistent doubt that is cast upon you by peers/leaders, and trying to understand how to mold yourself into dimensions that people can understand. I’m excited to read his short stories next, and looking forward to his next novel coming out this year.
4.25 Stars
challenging
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.25
“This could be their life together, each moment shared, passed back and forth between each other to alleviate the pressure, the awful pressure of having to hold on to time for oneself. This is perhaps why people get together in the first place. The sharing of time. The sharing of the responsibility of anchoring oneself in the world.”
I was totally unprepared for how much I was invested in and gutted by this book.
Initially, you think this is going to be a Standard Campus Novel. We have a queer black PhD candidate (believe it’s biology?) approaching his 4th year, feeling uncertain of his place in his lab, amongst his friends, in academia, and as a Southern boy living in the Midwest. The central plot seemingly surrounds a sabotaged experiment, but as you read on, you begin to see the acute conflicts and pain inflicted upon Wallace from multiple sources. As Wallace struggles with belonging, you begin to question if that acceptance is possible or even worth the trouble.
There is a quiet brilliance woven through the entire novel. Jeremy O. Harris described Real Life as a novel that “excavates the profound from the mundane”, and I think that’s the perfect description. Wallace, at heart, is an observer constantly dissecting the people and the interactions around him. When a friend is worried about their boyfriend opening up their relationship, Wallace attributes this to really a fear of losing the “inoculation against the uncertainty of the future” that a relationship brings. When he is subject to microagressions and blatant racism by his peers, Wallace notes that in the rare times he raises the issue, he finds that white people hold his accusations “up to the light and try to discern if you are telling the truth…As if they can tell by the grain if something is racist or not, and they always trust their own judgement.” When he’s assaulted by a lover, who is reeling from exposing his deepest secrets, Wallace notes that the cruelty he experiences is a “conduit of pain…a delivery system, as in the way that certain viruses convey illness, disease, irreparable harm.” It’s in these moments that Taylor shines and I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. As Wallace takes the time to turn these astute observations inward, it peaks in a chapter where he recounts his past/family that is probably one of the most gut wrenching things I’ve read in my life.
There’s a lot of honesty in this book, even with Wallace admitting the ways he even has misjudged or characterized his friends, making it an even more compelling read.
The most human, but frustrating part, about this novel is the lack of confrontation or character development in Wallace. We do not see any retribution for the racism he experiences, or the physical abuse inflicted upon him by a lover, or just generally how awful (I think) his friends are. But sometimes, that’s Real Life 🤪. There’s no perfect resolution, but that does makes sense for a character who is committed to shedding the past in an attempt to become something new, but insincere, in the face of his community & environment.
This novel is special. It was still a Campus Novel, but to center a black and queer experience allowed for an added layer of reflection that was particularly poignant. I laughed in recognition at the Hell of doing anything within the sciences, the consistent doubt that is cast upon you by peers/leaders, and trying to understand how to mold yourself into dimensions that people can understand. I’m excited to read his short stories next, and looking forward to his next novel coming out this year.
4.25 Stars
Content Warnings
Graphic: Child abuse, Physical abuse, Rape, and Sexual assault
Rootless by Krystle Zara Appiah
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
medium-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
4.0
What Napoleon Could Not Do by D.K. Nnuro
challenging
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
2.75
Highly Suspicious and Unfairly Cute by Talia Hibbert
emotional
funny
lighthearted
reflective
fast-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
3.75
Out There by Kate Folk
adventurous
funny
mysterious
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
4.0
"The more someone loves you, the more he'll want to meddle with the most vital parts of you, and vice versa. The only way to not hurt someone is not to love him enough, to remain unmoved by the thought of his organs pulsing beneath a thin layer of skin."
Have you ever read a book that unsettled you, but somehow, you still really enjoyed it?
I never really had an answer to this question until reading Out There by Kate Folk. I have always been optimistic in thinking that I enjoy weird and off kilter books, but honestly, I tend to give up on them because they take a step too far into the absurd for me. Out There is truly a collection of bizarre stories, but each one has a familiar/recognizable human element that somehow makes it a touch believable to me.
For example, the title and closing story explores a world where blots – strikingly handsome but socially inept male robots – have flooded the dating app scene to target vulnerable women for identity fraud. In the midst of this absurd concept, there are a lot of familiar realities – the desire for intimacy even in int’s imperfect forms, the predictable/cyclical nature in the early stages of dating, the fear of the unknown ways someone you like could hurt you.
Other stories I liked include: Heart Seeks Brain (a world where attraction is based on internal organs) Shelter (a woman neglected by her boyfriend finds a new obsession), The Bone Ward (follows a collection of patients with a bone melting disease), Dating a Somnambulist (don’t you hate it when your partner sleepwalks and comes back with a box of poisonous jellyfish?), and the Moist House (this is too weird to even describe lol). Most of the stories include some aspects of eerie warmth mixed in with (slightly grotesque) body horror. As a generally squeamish person, this book was uncomfortable at times but not unbearable.
As wild as these stories may be, Folk also uses humor expertly throughout the stories. I could be horrified and laugh out loud all within the same scene. I did sense some emotional distance in some of the characters, but I found the plots compelling enough that this didn’t bother me. Honestly, I think it worked in her advantage here because it opens the door for the reader to examine the character’s motivations themselves.
This is an absolute standout short story collection. I’m really excited to see what weird tales this author comes up with next.
Have you ever read a book that unsettled you, but somehow, you still really enjoyed it?
I never really had an answer to this question until reading Out There by Kate Folk. I have always been optimistic in thinking that I enjoy weird and off kilter books, but honestly, I tend to give up on them because they take a step too far into the absurd for me. Out There is truly a collection of bizarre stories, but each one has a familiar/recognizable human element that somehow makes it a touch believable to me.
For example, the title and closing story explores a world where blots – strikingly handsome but socially inept male robots – have flooded the dating app scene to target vulnerable women for identity fraud. In the midst of this absurd concept, there are a lot of familiar realities – the desire for intimacy even in int’s imperfect forms, the predictable/cyclical nature in the early stages of dating, the fear of the unknown ways someone you like could hurt you.
Other stories I liked include: Heart Seeks Brain (a world where attraction is based on internal organs) Shelter (a woman neglected by her boyfriend finds a new obsession), The Bone Ward (follows a collection of patients with a bone melting disease), Dating a Somnambulist (don’t you hate it when your partner sleepwalks and comes back with a box of poisonous jellyfish?), and the Moist House (this is too weird to even describe lol). Most of the stories include some aspects of eerie warmth mixed in with (slightly grotesque) body horror. As a generally squeamish person, this book was uncomfortable at times but not unbearable.
As wild as these stories may be, Folk also uses humor expertly throughout the stories. I could be horrified and laugh out loud all within the same scene. I did sense some emotional distance in some of the characters, but I found the plots compelling enough that this didn’t bother me. Honestly, I think it worked in her advantage here because it opens the door for the reader to examine the character’s motivations themselves.
This is an absolute standout short story collection. I’m really excited to see what weird tales this author comes up with next.
A Proposal They Can't Refuse by Natalie Caña
emotional
funny
lighthearted
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.75
Milk Blood Heat by Dantiel W. Moniz
emotional
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
Short stories are always a hit or miss for me, and this is leaning to miss, but I have a high regard for Moniz's writing that I'll just land in the middle with my rating. I did appreciate that characters felt three dimensional, even in the confines of 20pgs for each story. I'd read another book by this author. My favorite stories were Milk Blood Heat & Necessary Bodies.
Two quotes I liked:
"Ava knows she really is a monster, or at least she feels like one: unnatural and unfamiliar in her body. Before thirteen, she hadn't realized empty was a thing you could carry. But who put it there? Sometimes she wonders if she will ever be rid of it, and other times she never wants to give it back. It is a thing she owns."
"Love requires a bareness, a certain pliability, and I didn't thrill at the possibility of being transformed or wiped away."
Two quotes I liked:
"Ava knows she really is a monster, or at least she feels like one: unnatural and unfamiliar in her body. Before thirteen, she hadn't realized empty was a thing you could carry. But who put it there? Sometimes she wonders if she will ever be rid of it, and other times she never wants to give it back. It is a thing she owns."
"Love requires a bareness, a certain pliability, and I didn't thrill at the possibility of being transformed or wiped away."
Maame by Jessica George
emotional
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
Solid debut but overall just feel OK about this. I liked Maddie well enough, but I don't think she was a compelling main character. I think grief was handled well. I think the mother daughter relationship was handled well. I think Ghanaian culture, language, and families were handled well. I wish the romantic relationships were...not what they were lol. Sam is cool but having that come together in the last 10% is disappointing.
Anywho, should be an interesting tv adaptation. On to the next!
Anywho, should be an interesting tv adaptation. On to the next!
If an Egyptian Cannot Speak English by Noor Naga
An unnamed Egyptian-American woman moves to Cairo and meets an unnamed Egyptian man (“the boy from Shobrakheit”) who is unemployed following the 2011 Egyptian Revolution. The characters develop a tense love affair that increasingly becomes dark and violent as they grow to understand the power they do and do not have in their relationship.
As many people have said, the most interesting aspect of this book is the form. In Part 1, the book jumps between the perspectives of these two characters often (sometimes page by page), with each section beginning with a question that has no answer (“Is it arrogant to return to a place you’ve never been?”). In Part 2, these changing perspectives become increasingly hard to follow as there’s no obvious marking of the switch, and footnotes have been thrown in to provide cultural context to the references made. And in Part 3...I feel like it would be a spoiler to explain it, but it takes on a completely different form that breaks the 4th wall of the book, causing the reader to rethink everything they’ve read.
The central part of this story are the characters, neither of which are likable. The American woman is somehow both self-aware and ignorant. The boy from Shobrakheit initially evokes empathy that is ultimately suffocated by his misogyny and violence. At a high level, the character arcs work well as tools for the narrative, but at the micro level, they feel underdeveloped. More insight is given to the woman (which we learn why at the end), but the nature of the story requires a lot of telling through the eyes of the speaker so the reader can only infer so much.
To me, the ultimate strength of this book is really Naga’s writing of visceral experiences and the casual but striking philosophical ruminations by the characters. I also think that I do love books that zoom in on the power dynamics in individual relationships and also drill down into the concept of belonging/feeling out of place in a space. I’m always fascinated by the harm humans can do to one another, and the myriad of ways we try to “justify” it or claim the self-awareness of the harm is all the acknowledgement needed. I got a lot of that in this book so it clicked on that level. Also, many of the questions from Part 1 were gold to me.
Personally, I didn’t mind the changing perspectives. I know (& the author seems to as well) there is discomfort in including the voice of the boy from Shobrakheit as becomes more obviously abusive and fantasizes about the harm he or others could bring to the Egyptian-American woman. Those were honestly awful chapters to read & I can’t speak on if it was necessary or not. I do think his overall perspective of the woman was necessary, since he seemed to have a more critical view of her existing in a place with such a wealth of privilege and seemingly unaware of it. Part 3 is where I started tooooo kinda lose it lol – again avoiding spoilers, this section completely takes you out of the narrative and forces the reader to analyze the book in a way they were probably doing subconsciously, but is now made obvious. Initially, I found this to be a bit mad! A very odd way to close the book when the plot finally became strong enough to match the characterizations introduced. But on more reflections, I think this part does end up driving home the central question of this book – If an Egyptian cannot speak English, who is telling his story? This part drives mistrust of the reliability of the narrators, and I love that. But, I haven’t quite decided is this was actually subversive or just fake deep. Leaning towards the former, but the book is so short, I’m not sure how successful it was.
Overall, this was absolutely an interesting read. After reading an interview with the author too, my thoughts on this book became more positive. I’ll always be impressed by a book that can naturally spark a lot of reflections/questions that can take an almost academic tone (read: I miss school). I can honestly say I’ve never read anything like it, and I’ve decided that that’s a good thing. I can also say I probably wouldn’t recommend this to anyone, you’ll just have to decide for yourself (& also check content/trigger warnings bc ya).
challenging
dark
emotional
mysterious
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.75
Those outside of a language, of a culture, see furniture through a window and believe it is a room. But those inside know there are infinite rooms just out of view, and that they can always be more deeply inside.
An unnamed Egyptian-American woman moves to Cairo and meets an unnamed Egyptian man (“the boy from Shobrakheit”) who is unemployed following the 2011 Egyptian Revolution. The characters develop a tense love affair that increasingly becomes dark and violent as they grow to understand the power they do and do not have in their relationship.
As many people have said, the most interesting aspect of this book is the form. In Part 1, the book jumps between the perspectives of these two characters often (sometimes page by page), with each section beginning with a question that has no answer (“Is it arrogant to return to a place you’ve never been?”). In Part 2, these changing perspectives become increasingly hard to follow as there’s no obvious marking of the switch, and footnotes have been thrown in to provide cultural context to the references made. And in Part 3...I feel like it would be a spoiler to explain it, but it takes on a completely different form that breaks the 4th wall of the book, causing the reader to rethink everything they’ve read.
The central part of this story are the characters, neither of which are likable. The American woman is somehow both self-aware and ignorant. The boy from Shobrakheit initially evokes empathy that is ultimately suffocated by his misogyny and violence. At a high level, the character arcs work well as tools for the narrative, but at the micro level, they feel underdeveloped. More insight is given to the woman (which we learn why at the end), but the nature of the story requires a lot of telling through the eyes of the speaker so the reader can only infer so much.
To me, the ultimate strength of this book is really Naga’s writing of visceral experiences and the casual but striking philosophical ruminations by the characters. I also think that I do love books that zoom in on the power dynamics in individual relationships and also drill down into the concept of belonging/feeling out of place in a space. I’m always fascinated by the harm humans can do to one another, and the myriad of ways we try to “justify” it or claim the self-awareness of the harm is all the acknowledgement needed. I got a lot of that in this book so it clicked on that level. Also, many of the questions from Part 1 were gold to me.
Personally, I didn’t mind the changing perspectives. I know (& the author seems to as well) there is discomfort in including the voice of the boy from Shobrakheit as becomes more obviously abusive and fantasizes about the harm he or others could bring to the Egyptian-American woman. Those were honestly awful chapters to read & I can’t speak on if it was necessary or not. I do think his overall perspective of the woman was necessary, since he seemed to have a more critical view of her existing in a place with such a wealth of privilege and seemingly unaware of it. Part 3 is where I started tooooo kinda lose it lol – again avoiding spoilers, this section completely takes you out of the narrative and forces the reader to analyze the book in a way they were probably doing subconsciously, but is now made obvious. Initially, I found this to be a bit mad! A very odd way to close the book when the plot finally became strong enough to match the characterizations introduced. But on more reflections, I think this part does end up driving home the central question of this book – If an Egyptian cannot speak English, who is telling his story? This part drives mistrust of the reliability of the narrators, and I love that. But, I haven’t quite decided is this was actually subversive or just fake deep. Leaning towards the former, but the book is so short, I’m not sure how successful it was.
Overall, this was absolutely an interesting read. After reading an interview with the author too, my thoughts on this book became more positive. I’ll always be impressed by a book that can naturally spark a lot of reflections/questions that can take an almost academic tone (read: I miss school). I can honestly say I’ve never read anything like it, and I’ve decided that that’s a good thing. I can also say I probably wouldn’t recommend this to anyone, you’ll just have to decide for yourself (& also check content/trigger warnings bc ya).