Tag: books

Isaac by Curtis Garner

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Isaac is a coming of age novel about first relationships, obsession, and finding who you are over a summer. Isaac is seventeen and is just finishing school, waiting to find out if he’ll get a place at his chosen university. He starts using an app to find men for sex, but when he meets twenty-eight year old Harrison at a party, he is suddenly infatuated, and their relationship takes over. As Isaac feels more and more that he cannot please Harrison, and pushes away the other people in his life, he has to ask himself difficult questions about what is really good for him.

This is a novel about queer growing up in the modern age, without focusing too hard on the digital elements to distract from the timeless story of unhealthy relationships and self-worth. It is set over a summer, but moves quite quickly through it, and the ending gives enough space to going beyond that time to see how Isaac moves forward, rather than just ending on a turning point without resolution. I liked how tender the ending is, not some romanticised perfect ending but showing signs of Isaac finding ways to keep growing and know that the summer isn’t the start and end of everything. Alongside this, there’s also Isaac’s relationship with his mum, which also faces turbulence, but ultimately is always safety for Isaac to return to. The writing style is straightforward, and the general vibe makes the book feel like the next step to growing up, capturing adolescence and mistakes, darkness and tenderness.

There’s some difficult topics explored in the novel, like toxic relationships, abuse, and body image, which are worth being aware of going in, and in particular it shines a light on some of the ways the modern world has impacted these things, without being entirely focused on apps or social media (for example, Isaac’s body image issues are more based on real life than because he’s seeing a lot of Instagram posts or something). It captures that moment when you think you’re an adult but really you’re still very much working out who you might even be and how others might see you, and ends with hope.

These Violent Delights by Micah Nemerever

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These Violent Delights is a novel about two college students whose obsessive relationship leads them towards violence. In 1970s Pittsburgh, Paul starts college as a quiet loner, still grieving his father. He meets Julian in his ethics class and they are drawn to each other against the world, but Julian is unpredictable and Paul believes himself never good enough. As they play a game thinking up murder methods and grown increasingly obsessed with each other against their families’ wishes, they end up on a path that seems unable to have a happy ending.

I’ve wanted to read this book for a long time and now it is finally being published in the UK. It didn’t disappoint: it is all-consuming, written in a suitably pretentious way that delves into the depths and details of Paul and Julian, not painting Paul as some victim but as them both as flawed and all too obsessed not only with each other but with their own importance against the rest of the world. The narrative is third person but always follows Paul, which I wouldn’t have expected but actually works well to keep you always looking in on their relationship and not actually being addressed by Paul himself. The story itself is pretty simple, and I liked how this is far more of a character study than any kind of thriller (fittingly similar to The Secret History, which is tricky not to compare this to even though These Violent Delights is much less “dark academia” because their obsession is with each other and not something academic).

Nemerever’s author’s note at the end really sums up this book’s focus on late teenage queer relationships and how the lines between love, obsession, and toxicity can become very blurred, particularly for queer people and for people who have to position their feelings as them against the world (as this book’s characters explicitly do, à la Brideshead). If that’s the sort of book you like, then These Violent Delights is a delightful example of the genre, and for me it was exactly the sort of book I enjoy, focusing properly on the characters and their ideas and relationship. 

The Trunk by Kim Ryeo-ryeong

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The Trunk is a novel about a woman who works as a ‘Field Wife’, a hired out temporary spouse for the rich, and what happens when one of her previous husbands hires her for another year of marriage. Inji took a job at matchmaking service Wedding & Life’s secret division, in which people can pay for a field spouse to have a fixed term marriage with, when she didn’t know what to do with her life, and now she’s had five of these husbands. The most recent husband wants another year with her, and soon various people in her life, and secrets from the past, start to appear, in this satirical novel that explores modern marriage, sexuality, and gender expectations in South Korea.

This novel wasn’t what I was expecting from how it is presented, as it is marketed as a feminist thriller, and between that and the title, I was expecting the protagonist to be involved in something like murder. Actually, the book is more about ideas of love and marriage, queerness and the space for people’s lives and relationships to be more fluid, with a plot that is more focused on the protagonist’s relationships to other people and things in the past that have impacted those relationships. There are some thriller-like elements—like her finding more shady stuff out about the company she works for, or the guy who won’t stop pursuing her, or the mystery of how her schoolfriend died—but the book is really more meditative and character-focused, with a lot of satire as well, rather than a thrilling page turner.

The first half of the book focuses on Inji’s work in the company and some of the people in her life, like her closest friend and the old granny who lives by her, and all of the characters are given a lot of quirks to explore how people’s lives aren’t straightforward. There’s also her current husband, a rich music producer she has avoided finding out much about, and a guy who has started turning up at her work, demanding to know why she’s not interested in him, and both of these two seem like something dramatic is going to happen, but then the second half of the book tells more of the story of her and her best friend, and their other friend who died after Coming of Age Day. as well as Inji’s revelations about a manager at her company. This all makes it quite a varied novel, but I enjoyed that it wasn’t a straightforward thriller, and instead questioned a lot of things about relationships, sex, and love that people tend to expect.

She’s Always Hungry by Eliza Clark

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She’s Always Hungry is a collection of short stories from Eliza Clark exploring body horror, futures, and, above all else, hunger. In eleven varied stories, characters explore the edges of their desires, whether for better skin, a plant that might save the planet, or human flesh. Most of the stories are pretty conventional in structure, though a variety of genres, but one is comprised entirely of reviews of a mysterious takeaway (and is a very fun addition). A few are speculative fiction and it’s exciting to see Clark writing in a genre quite different to her novels Boy Parts and Penance, even though I typically am not a huge fan either of speculative fiction or most short stories, with these focusing on very specific moments rather than worldbuilding.

Overall, this is a collection that has a clear presiding theme, but which explores it in a plethora of ways, not sticking to the same styles of story or similar characters. As I expected from Clark, there’s some fairly dark stuff and some moments of body horror, but also a lot of playfulness, especially when taking things to extremes (like the almost ridiculous ‘The King’ with a cannibal protagonist excited for an apocalypse). There’s some fun little details—I loved that ‘Nightstalkers’ was set in Santa Carla—and generally this collection lived up to what I might’ve hoped for, even though some of the stories were perhaps a little tamer or more predictable than I wanted.

Hotel Lucky Seven by Kotaro Isaka

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Hotel Lucky Seven is another assassin thriller from Kotaro Isaka featuring a web of assassins in Tokyo whose intersections cause a mess of violence, death, and ridiculousness. Nanao, the unlucky assassin known as Ladybird from Bullet Train, has a job to deliver a birthday present to a room in a hotel, an apparently easy job until a man ends up dead and Nanao discovers he isn’t the only professional in the hotel that day. When he meets Kamino, a woman with a perfect memory who seems to be the focus of these professionals, Nanao is drawn into far more than he expected.

Given that Nanao is one of the main characters, you can guess that this book is very much a follow-up to Bullet Train, even though there are other Isaka books in the same world featuring some of the same characters. Hotel Lucky Seven takes the Bullet Train mould of a single location and far too many assassins, rather than the more wide-ranging (and less comic) The Mantis, and this works very effectively as a fun journey around scheming and mishaps, with plenty of ridiculous deaths. There’s some fascinating character relationships in this one, and some further models for crime duos along similar lines to the citrus-themed pair from Bullet Train.

If you liked Bullet Train, Hotel Lucky Seven is another book in the same vein, with plenty of mishaps, gruesome deaths, and weirdly specifically skilled assassins. It’s ideal for people, like me, who love dark comedy crime films. The translation has a good balance of making sure Japanese-culture-specific elements are clear, whilst not spelling everything out or removing things that give the book its setting and context (and the author’s note at the end about yuzu pepper cheesecake is a funny touch).

Thirst by Marina Yuszczuk

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Thirst is a vampire novel, telling the story of two different women in Buenos Aires across two time periods. In the nineteenth century, a female vampire escapes Europe and the dangers of hiding those she must kill to satisfy her thirst, ending up in disease-ridden Buenos Aires where she can haunt the streets, but still she knows the danger of her need to take blood. And then in the present day, a woman deals with her ill mother and how to explain it all to her young son, whilst also being given a mysterious key to something in a crypt.

This is first and foremost a gothic novel, following in the vein of particularly nineteenth-century gothic novels that use their tropes and atmosphere to explore present concerns. In Thirst‘s case, this is fear and loneliness, and the isolation of sadness, as well as elements of women’s roles in society, and the changing city of Buenos Aires. The first half of the novel tells the story of our vampire, her struggle to drink blood whilst remaining hidden, and her desires and the ways in which sex, desire, and blood-sucking intermingle. It tells a similar story to many vampire novels, old and new, with the battle between thirst and loneliness and monstrosity. It is harsh and bloody, with a great atmosphere.

The second half of the novel is from the perspective of a woman in the present day, who cares for her young son and faces her ill mother’s impending death. When she’s given information about a mysterious crypt from her mother, you know where the book is going, but it takes a long time to get there, and this section’s tone is much more about the woman’s sadness and her struggles to cope than the vampire element until the very end. The style, like a diary, brings it back to the gothic novel, however, and there’s some interesting thoughts about creation and agency throughout.

I love a vampire novel, and it is interesting how Thirst plays with being a very traditional vampire novel, and also a story about grief and sadness that almost forgets the vampire part for a while. It is a book about uncontrollable desire, and the loss of desire, and whilst the two halves don’t entirely come together, I enjoyed it nevertheless.

Gifted by Suzumi Suzuki

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Gifted is a short novel about a woman working as a hostess in Tokyo who suddenly has to care for her terminally ill mother she left home to get away from. The unnamed narrator lives and works in Kabukicho, the famed entertainment district in Shinjuku, and her tattoos hide the burn scars from an incident with her mother when she was younger. Now, her mother is very ill, and stays with her between hospital visits, and the narrator must face her relationship with her mother as well as the other people in her life.

This book is a dreamlike experience to read, following the narrator’s thoughts and her constant returning to her apartment, and offering glimpses into elements of her life rather than in-depth explorations given the short length. You never quite hear everything about her and her mother, but that feels right given that she doesn’t know everything about her mother, and her mother’s death isn’t bringing some dramatic closure to their troubled relationship. Instead, you hear about how she unlocks her door—the main form of safety she seems to have—and snippets about her and others working in Kabukicho, not just the hostess and host clubs and the clients, but also the twenty-four hour drugstore, the difficulty getting a taxi. The way these parts are woven together was something I really enjoyed, though there were occasional points where the translation made for clunky sentences that were hard to get your head around.

Gifted offers a novella about a difficult mother-daughter relationship that also picks up on the tiny details of the narrator’s life and offers glimpses into Kabukicho. Like the poetry the narrator’s mother writes, this short book doesn’t give you everything laid out as a chronological narrative, but leaves space for piecing things together or not knowing.

Feast While You Can by Mikaella Clements and Onjuli Datta

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Feast While You Can is a queer horror romance novel about a monster that tries to steal your life, messier and more full of potential the better. Angelina Sicco has lived in mountain town Cadenze all her life, where her family are well known, but especially her, a mixed race lesbian. She lives with her brother and tries to draw tourist women to visit Cadenze to give herself a dating pool, but when hot butch Jagvi—who is also her brother’s ex—returns to town, it seems Angelina’s life got more complicated. Until, of course, the local legend monster from the pit targets Angelina, grabbing her memories and controlling her, seeming to set up for the final feed—and only Jagvi seems to be able to repel it.

This book was so much fun that it was difficult to put down. It’s about hungry, desperate desire, and also a hungry monster desperate to steal someone’s life, past, present, and future. It’s also about small towns, and escaping them or not, and the different assumptions people have. The horror and romance elements are deeply intertwined so, without wanting to get too deep into spoilers, the book doesn’t really need to pull between these elements (especially in horror it’s rare to find sex scenes so integrated into everything else), and it makes the book more brutal and raw as a romance too. This isn’t a fluffy ‘small town and big city queer experiences collide’ romance, but instead it is about two angry, desperate women whose future holds something more terrifying and complex than ‘where would they live’. I particularly liked Jagvi as a character, a brooding figure who has a complex story of belonging and queer identity hidden underneath.

The element that did confuse me a bit was the book’s setting, as at first I thought it was set in the US as that’s what it felt like, and then it seemed to be set in non-specific Italy, with a lot of references to history that would place it in Italy and mentions of dialect etc, but never does it actually make this explicit. It also turned out from a line at the very end that the book was set in the 90s, which I also had no idea about from reading it. I can see that it is meant to be an ambiguous setting, but it threw me out of the reading experience trying to work out where it was meant to be set. As I read an ARC, this might be more apparent in the marketing or final book.

I had a great time reading this book, which has possession, light body horror, a consuming romance, and a memorable butch love interest (which a lot of lesbian romance lacks). It’s not a scary kind of horror, but more of a monstrous, grotesque kind, with a darkness to the ending, and it shows that queer horror can have many guises.

All The Hearts You Eat by Hailey Piper

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All the Hearts You Eat is a horror novel about life and death and the bonds that tie people together, as dead trans girl Cabrina appears to loner Ivory and to her best friends in life Xi and Rex. Cabrina Brite washes up dead in Cape Morning, and Ivory finds her death poem lying nearby. Ivory didn’t know the girl, but she seems to be haunted by her now. Meanwhile Cabrina’s best friends are also dealing with the realisation that Cabrina’s presence is still around, in this small town that held no space for her.

I didn’t know anything about this book going in, so it was a very welcome surprise to discover that it is, if you really want to boil it down, a trans vampire book. All of the main characters are trans and the book explores who you can choose to be and who you can’t, using the gothic horror of a town haunted by vampiric creatures and a mysterious island. One of the great things about this book is the complexity and messiness of the main characters, especially the complex relationships between the three teenage characters who are just reaching adulthood. The ending really highlights how this isn’t a simple ‘trans characters versus the world’ book, but a horror novel with the space to explore different ideas about who someone is and how they might act when treated badly.

I found the book took me a while to get into, with the writing style quite obtuse at first so I couldn’t quite work out what was going on. Once I settled into the book it became much more enjoyable, though still occasionally a bit confusing. As everything else about this book was so up my street, it was a shame that I found it so hard to get into at first. However, this didn’t stop me really appreciating this book, from its depiction of the messiness of feelings between trans teenagers to its exploration of what it means to feel like a outsider and how that might cause you to react to promises from supernatural creatures. Piper uses horror to tackle a lot of interesting things about growing up trans in a small town, but doesn’t forget to include gory and dramatic moments along the way.

Benothinged by Alvar Theo

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[I was asked to blurb this book by the lovely Haunt Publishing, so this is a mini review I wrote for that.]

In Benothinged, Alvar Theo asks what if the real monster of queer horror is isolation, mental illness, grief, poverty, and all of the other things that people face in modern day Britain, and if so, how might we defeat that monster? The result is a book that is haunting, bittersweet, and yet also full of tiny joys, as the trans protagonists learn to work together to build a world free of this monster.