My Real Children by Jo Walton

My Real Children by Jo Walton

Tor, 2014

Overview: We meet Patricia Cowan in 2015 in a nursing home, and learn that not only is she suffering from dementia, but she is confused about which life she actually led. Nearly the entire book chronicles two very different life stories that exist in very different worlds which both resemble our own. 

This is really more of a work of literary fiction than science fiction, despite being published by Tor, so if you're hoping for something solidly science fiction you might be disappointed. (IT'S SO GOOD THOUGH.)

My reaction: I was surprised and delighted that Patricia (called Pat in her happier life story, Trisha/Trish in the other) falls in love with a woman in one of her two worlds, but didn't get my hopes up due to a typically cagey description on the inside cover. As a result, I guessed that it would last at most a chapter, but should have known better: a major reason I started this blog with the Lesbrarian is publishers' systematic erasure of queer content on covers and in metadata to market to a larger audience. This is the first such book we've found without research, though, which inspired me to get back to this blog!

A fair warning: this book really wrung me out emotionally. The counterpart to the beautiful lesbian relationship that bloomed just after World War II was the heartbreaking story of an abusive marriage to an insufferable man, and the roller coaster of emotions Walton evoked in me as she switched between the two is a seriously good (but not painless) ride. 

Walton balances the two stories exquisitely. Pat's, while generally the happier of the two stories, had the tears running down my cheeks by the end (even though I knew, thanks to the first chapter, exactly where Pat would end up) while Trish's life gradually gets brighter until she again has more than her share of pain. 

Neither Pat or Trish is perfect, nor should they be, but I was particularly annoyed at Pat's skepticism about her Muslim son-in-law and the name for one of his children. While I understood where Trish was coming from with her naive but sometimes hurtful attitudes towards gay sex (not people! amazing!), Pat's mild xenophobia in her later years just baffled and upset me.

Other than that, My Real Children was amazing. I can't say too much more without giving things away, but it was a really thought-provoking read in its entirety, and--as you might guess--Pat's love story will stick with me for a long time.

Just make sure you have some Kleenex. (Really. Books don't usually make me cry.)

She Rises by Kate Worsley

She Rises by Kate Worsley

Bloomsbury, 2013.

Overview: Louise Fletcher is a young dairymaid who is suddenly sent to the “big” port city of Harwich to be a lady’s maid to a captain’s daughter, Rebecca Handley. Before she leaves, her mother asks her to find out what happened to her brother, Luke, who was presumably press-ganged into service to the British navy. The story follows both Louise and Luke’s struggles, but Louise’s attraction to her mistress is what drives her story forward.

My reaction: This book was very well done. After finishing it, I was not surprised to read that Sarah Waters, one of my favorite authors (who I reviewed here and here, and the Lesbrarian here and here), actually mentored Kate Worsley, as She Rises has a similar attention to historical detail (albeit in a century and a half earlier than the majority of Waters’ oeuvre), a delicately balanced dual plot-line, and a CRAZY plot twist. Like in Waters’ Affinity, I did catch multiple hints of said CRAZY plot twist as I read, but when it was confirmed, my mind was still blown. I wish I could get into a whole discussion about that, but I will resist the urge to spoil it! 

To give you fair warning, She Rises is not an easy read. It definitely is no modern lesbian romance dropped into Harwich, c. 1740, which led to some serious discomfort for me more than once.  The internalized misogyny and gender norms in particular made me think; I realized that it was much more realistic to write the story like that, but a little part of me wished that the characters had been able to free themselves of society’s more repellant mores. 

That said, I could write a paper on the ways that class and gender and sexuality intersect in this novel, and it’s always a pleasure for me to read a book that not only has a compelling storyline, but real substance.

Carry the One by Carol Anshaw

Carry the One by Carol Anshaw

Simon & Schuster, 2012.

Overview: Hooo boy, this one's a downer. After a self-imposed shotgun wedding, the groom's sister, the bride's sister and brother,  and a friend and her married lover all pile into a car driven by the extremely high new girlfriend of the bride's brother, and she hits and kills a ten year old girl. As you might expect, the guilt all the connected parties feel shapes their lives, and determines the course of the novel, which covers the next 25 years.

My reaction: This book is utterly tragic. I spoiled the entire book for the Lesbrarian, since she wasn't planning to read it, and it probably took me ten minutes to list all of  the depressing things that happen in it. I swear that there is not a single completely happy page. That said, this book was nominated for a Lambda Literary Award for a reason! (The announcement of the winner is June 3rd.) While it was extremely dark throughout, Anshaw's writing brought wonderfully authentic characters to life, and sprinkled the book with humor that never overwhelmed the sadness. In other words, don't read this for the laughs; while I doubt I could have kept reading without those little glimmers of light, I felt like I was being sucked down deeper and deeper by the characters' intense guilt and unhappiness with every chapter I read. I'll tag this as recommended since it was great writing, but with the caveat that it's not going to be a fun read! (Sometimes un-fun reads are necessary  of course, and if you need that now, here's a great one!)

The World We Found by Thrity Umrigar

The World We Found by Thrity Umrigar
HarperCollins, 2012.

Overview: The World We Found follows four Indian women who were extremely close friends in college, but trace their drift apart to the Hindu-Muslim riots. When Armaiti, the only one of the group to move to the United States, discovers she is dying of a brain tumor, she asks her friends to visit her. Most of the book revolves around the dredging up of the past, as Laleh and Kavita reconnect with Nishta, who had not been in touch with any of them for years, and Armaiti reflects on her girlhood and that of her American daughter.

My reaction: This was an amazing  book. I enjoyed Umrigar's writing so much that I want to read the rest of her books, regardless of whether they have lesbian characters. This was not the "gayest" book reviewed here, but the lesbian content wasn't negligible. There were some really beautiful scenes that pulled my heartstrings in a good way, and felt so natural. To be honest, the relatively small word count devoted to this part of the story was actually a nice change of pace; with some of the more "decent" and "meh" books, I feel like authors rely on the character's sexual orientation being something of a novelty in fiction to carry the story. Obviously, I don't mean to suggest that all books should function like this one, because I'm all for well-written books that have a predominant focus on lesbian characters, but it was good to see a book where lesbian sexuality is a significant part of a character's life without it being THE THEME. I wouldn't put any of my"recommended" titles in this category, even The Night Watch, which was mostly about lesbian Londoners in the 1940s, since those characters (in my opinion) were shaped more by the war than their queerness, although that obviously played a large part in their identities as well.

Yes, Umrigar's character had to grapple to come to terms with her sexuality, but the real crux of the story focused around the friend whom none of them had been in touch with for years. In other words, I'm a huge fan of multi-dimensional lesbian characters dealing with life!

On that score (and just about every other), I highly recommend The World We Found.

Crocodile Soup by Julia Darling

Crocodile Soup by Julia Darling

Originally printed by Anchor in Great Britain, 1998. Reprint by Ecco Press, an imprint of HarperCollins.

Overview: Gert, a curator of Egyptian artifacts, falls for Eva, a worker in the museum café. While Gert’s infatuation with Eva is a thread through the story, she spends most of her narrative reflecting on her childhood and estrangement from her mother.

My reaction: The first adjective I would use to describe this book would be “grubby.” Gert’s tragicomic life is full of grime, neglect, and DETAIL. I loved Darling’s writing, since she used just enough bizarre detail to create a wild picture, but didn’t bog down the story with it. This book is harder to review than others because it really does rely on the reader becoming fond of Gert and her way of seeing things rather than a cohesive, forward-driven plot. (I’m also writing this in a crowded airport as I return from a visit home…) Within a few pages, I predicted to the Lesbrarian that this would be the first “recommended” title I’d read in a while, and I am extremely happy to be right!