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jenvini's reviews
68 reviews
Dykette by Jenny Fran Davis
funny
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
2.5
I'm always happy to read a book about messy lesbians; I think too often queer relationships are watered down and perfect in fiction to make them easier to digest for straight people. I enjoyed the writing style, and I'm always drawn to very unlikable protagonists, like Sasha. But I found myself fairly bored in some parts, and I think it has to do with the focus being zeroed-in on a white femme and the white lesbians around her, and while I understand that that's the point, it didn't really go anywhere for me.
Nocturnes: Five Stories of Music and Nightfall by Kazuo Ishiguro
emotional
reflective
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
Entangled Life: How Fungi Make Our Worlds, Change Our Minds & Shape Our Futures by Merlin Sheldrake
informative
reflective
medium-paced
4.5
Elegant writing coupled with mushrooms, my favorite. A little nonsensical, but to be honest, it's what I love about it.
Innards: Stories by Magogodi oaMphela Makhene
dark
emotional
informative
reflective
medium-paced
5.0
The Honey Month by Amal El-Mohtar
emotional
funny
inspiring
lighthearted
reflective
relaxing
fast-paced
4.0
It feels strange to rate this book, it's a lot more personal than I thought it would be, although I may be biased considering I love honey more than most things. It's exactly what it says on the tin; Amal El-Mohtar's musings on the honey she sampled over the course of a month. Give it a read if you enjoy honey, and even if you don't, give it a try anyway. It's delightful.
The World Keeps Ending, and the World Goes on by Franny Choi
From "Waste"
challenging
dark
emotional
reflective
medium-paced
5.0
You only knew him for two years! cries the mother
of the boy we lost--sweet bedraggled flourish of a boy
who was hers and hers and hers and briefly mine and then--
out--like a swath of river, over a cliff and gone, back into
whatever name the universe calls us away toward, leaving question
after question in his unending wake, his wake shrinking
into a red horizon. Two years we fell into somehow step.
From "Waste"