Guest Lesbrarian Orange Sorbet reviews Sing You Home by Jodi Picoult

I know I will be judged for this, but Jodi Picoult is one of my favourite writers. She may not be a favourite of the critics, sure, but she has a huge fanbase nonetheless because people like stories that are plucked from the headlines. Stories that are relevant, stories that matter. Picoult has covered the death penalty (Change of Heart), “test-tube babies” (My Sister’s Keeper), school shootings (Nineteen Minutes), date rape (The Tenth Circle), so on and so forth – so it was really only a matter of time till she came to write about LGB issues.

The trouble with beginnings is that they have to end
Never thought I’d be the girl who said, “Remember when?”

Sing You Home tells the story of Zoe and Max Baxter, an ordinary couple trying for a baby. Their marriage eventually dissolves from the stress, and Zoe finds her way into the arms of another woman, Vanessa, while Max finds solace in an evangelical church that is – surprise! – strongly anti-gay.

There is a lot of ground covered in this book; you could probably label the overarching themes as “religion” and “sexuality” but the heart of the book lies in the finer issues: later-in-life lesbianism, fertility & birth, embryos vs. “pre-born children,” parental/familial support (or lack thereof), religious media grandstanding… the list goes on. It makes for a very compelling read to see how everything comes into play in the lives of the 3 main characters, and Picoult’s skill lies in making us feel for the real, ordinary people at the centre of this maelstrom who never asked for any of it. At the same time, I did also feel that the book was somewhat rushed and touch-and-go at some points, especially when compared to the much slower pace her other novels take. (Then again, this does tie in with the U-Haul lesbian stereotype.)

Picoult does her best to present all sides of the argument fairly, and I did enjoy reading the religious side of things because like anyone else, I am more receptive to words delivered non-threateningly on paper than yelled in my face, even if those words on paper talk about people in the book yelling things in other characters’ faces. The sheer amount of hostility in the Real World would make anyone hesitant to step out from their comfortable bubbles among like-minded folk so it’s always good to have more balanced reads. However, have no doubt that Picoult is firmly in the bleeding-heart liberal camp. Some of her pro-LGB arguments are delivered with the subtlety of a train wreck, and it is immediately apparent that the book slants this way. It might be easy enough for you to figure out how the book ends, but as with any other Picoult book in which plot twists greet you at every bend, don’t presume to know how it’ll get there.

Big Brother’s in my living room, offering critiques
Pastor yells and tells me I should turn the other cheek
Census taker says there is no label for my sin
Doctor’s office will not let me be the next of kin
It’s a different drummer, but still the same old song
What part of this ordinary life is wrong?

I am not a poster child, I am not a cause
I won’t be a scapegoat while you rewrite the laws
I know what makes a family, I don’t need it defined
What’s missing in your life
That makes you take away from mine?

My favourite part of the book is definitely the accompanying original soundtrack written by Picoult’s friend Ellen Wilber, available for download online. (The italicised bits in this review are lyrics and not text excerpts.) Before getting to Sing You Home, I’d read Melissa Etheridge’s The Truth Is…: My Life in Love and Music and thought that that book would be so much better with a soundtrack (for obvious reasons) – and then the next book I chose just so happened to have one! It may sound like a queer concept (pun intended), but Zoe is a music therapist in the book and so the songs actually blend in really well with the text as you follow her journey. You won’t miss out on anything if you choose to give them a pass, but I wouldn’t recommend doing that.

Every life has a soundtrack.

There is a tune that makes me think of the summer I spent rubbing baby oil on my stomach in pursuit of the perfect tan. There’s another that reminds me of tagging along with my father on Sunday mornings to pick up the New York Times. There’s the song that reminds me of using fake ID to get into a nightclub; and the one that brings back my cousin Isobel’s sweet sixteen, where I played Seven Minutes in Heaven with a boy whose breath smelled like tomato soup.

If you ask me, music is the language of memory.

Sing You Home isn’t the most powerful piece of LGBT literature – I’m sorry to say this, but at points it does become pretty clear that it’s written by a straight writer and a couple of tropes I thought were long dead were rehashed in the book – but it’s a good read and, I believe, an important one. Why? Picoult is a popular, respected mainstream writer. People who may have otherwise steered far, far away from these issues will be drawn to this book just because this #1 New York Times bestselling author wrote it, and she deals with it with more sensitivity and respect than I could have ever asked for.

It only seems appropriate then that I end with this: thank you, Jodi Picoult.

We wouldn’t have a future
If I never had a past
You may not be my first love
But you’re gonna be my last

Thank you so much for the review, Orange Sorbet! You can find Orange Sorbet’s blog here, and the original post of this review here.

If you’d like to submit a guest lesbrarian review to the Lesbrary, click here!

 

Casey reviews Cereus Blooms at Night by Shani Mootoo

The worth of something as delicious as Shani Mootoo’s novel, Cereus Blooms at Night, would be hard to overestimate. I’ve honestly never read anything that had such a sensory effect on me: the lilting rhythm of the language, the bittersweetness of the narrative twists, everything about this novel felt so visceral. Amazingly, Cereus Blooms at Night is Mootoo’s first novel, but you would never guess; the writing as well as the plot is so richly and confidently woven. An Indo-Trinidadian-Canadian author, Mootoo sets her novel in the fictionalized island Lantanacamara—clearly a stand-in for Trinidad—and the luscious environment of the island is really a character unto itself. The dripping gorgeousness of the buzzing insects, blooming trees, and vibrant flowers—especially the central image of the illusive cereus flower—are imprinted on my mind. That said, the people in this novel—most of them queer—are as unforgettable as the tongue-twisting fictional name of the setting. Our narrator is the precocious nurse Tyler, a fighting spirit of a feminine man (or a trans woman? the text is uninterested in such labels) who works at an Alms house and is the caretaker of a mysterious elderly woman, Miss Ramchandin, who has quite the history in this small town ironically called Paradise. Gradually this woman’s heart-breaking story, a difficult and complex one in which colonization, misogyny, and homophobia have all wrecked havoc on her life, is told to us through the eyes of the sympathetic and endearing Tyler. His/her story begins to intertwine with Miss Ramchandin’s when an important person from her past and his son come to visit and a romance blossoms between the two younger folks. This queer romance is mirrored by a lesbian one (see if you can guess it coming!) that occurs in Miss Ramchandin’s past. Both are beautifully drawn and emerge all the more powerfully in juxtaposition to some of the truly horrific violence the novel depicts. While this message, one that insists on the intersectionality and interrelatedness of oppressions such as racism and homophobia, is important, it is rather with a sweet message of hope—that a clipping of “cereus will surely bloom within days”—that the novel ends. Queerness in the novel, also, begins to emerge not as a an obstacle which one must overcome but something from which characters such as Tyler draw strength and through which they are able to make connections with others. I can’t recommend Cereus Blooms at Night highly enough: instead of eating a meal of coconut curry or dessert of mango ice cream, read this! It’s just as satisfying and perhaps the taste will linger with you a little longer.

Kristi reviews Turn for Home by Lara Zielinsky

Turn For Home is the sequel to Turning Point (which was reviewed last month). The book begins after the holiday break for Time Trails, the sci-fi series that both Cassidy and Brenna star on. Trying to find time to continue building their relationship is full of pitfalls: not only do Brenna’s sons give her the cold-shoulder, but as well-known actresses, trying to hide from the reporters and photographers on their tails is all but impossible.  When Cassidy’s abusive ex-husband, Mitch arrives on the scene, the doors are thrown wide-open, leaving the women to face the challenge of surviving under the microscope of Hollywood.

Compared to its prequel, Turning PointTurn for Home moves at a much faster clip. This is an action-and-reaction based storyline, as opposed to the relationship discovery of the first book. When their relationship becomes public, Brenna and Cassidy must both face shocked and angry people in their lives. When Brenna is forced to give a statement to the press by the show’s producers, she experiences first-hand the animosity that some have toward gays and lesbians. For Cassidy it hits even closer to home as she once again must deal with her conservative, self-righteous father and passive mother. Zielinsky demonstrates that with the bad comes the good, as support comes at the hands of not only cast and crew on the show, but in smaller figures as a patient rights advocate. Brenna’s relationship with her sons and their activities is another focus of this book. While it becomes a nice plot device to bring Cassidy back into the boys’ good graces by having her act as the go-between for Brenna and her younger son, James, I found the sequence of events seemed more to tie the characters together neatly towards the end than any other reason. The active storylines overshadow most of the romance and emotion that was evident in Turning Point, but I believe still presents a relationship that is building itself in the face of adversity and self-recognition for both Cassidy and Brenna.

Turn for Home is an fast but engaging read. While not as romantic as its predecessor, it is one that will pack a punch for those who pick it up. It is a book of a new relationship that has to survive many obstacles, and many will recognize the love – or the pain – to connect to from their own experiences.

Weekly Link Round Up

AfterEllen posted Across the Page: May 2011.

Bella Books posted Bella Editorial Director To Take Pitch Meetings at GCLS.

Bibrary Bookslut posted NEWS: The Dark Wife by Sarah Diemer (now available).

Gay YA posted Sharing Stories: Why Straight People Need to Read Gay Books and Considering Intersectionality.

GLBT Promo Blog posted a link to an excerpt from Soft Swap by Paisley Smith.

The Indie Lit Awards are still looking for book blogs who want GLBTQ books sent to them to review. (I will be judging again this year, and I’m really looking forward to it!) Start thinking of 2011 queer books to nominate in September!

Lambda Literary posted

Readings in Lesbian and Bisexual Women’s Fiction posted Readings Celebrates InSight of the Seer.

Women and Words posted a vlog with Cheyne Curry and Free Book Drawing and Fuzzy Thoughts.

Georgia Beers posted a guest post at Bett Norris’s blog.

Cheri Crystal posted an excerpt of her book Sapphic Signs.

Ivan Coyote was interviewed at Dorothy’s Closet.

Jae posted lesfic books she’s read in 2011.

Karin Kallmaker posted GCLS – Pitch Meetings in Orlando.

Malinda Lo posted I am still on tour! (sort of).

Chris Paynter posted an update on her blog.

Lisa Vaughn was interviewed at A Bookish Affair.

Lara Zielinsky posted Pride Month on Readings radio.

The Big Bang Symphony by Lucy Jane Bledsoe was reviewed at Lambda Literary.

Missed Her by Ivan Coyote was reviewed at Quill & Quire.

Love Revisited: Madison and Kate by K.B. Cutter was reviewed at Three Dollar Bill Reviews.

The Dark Wife by Sarah Diemer was reviewed at A Bookworm’s Shelf.

Lesbian Cops: Erotic Investigations edited by Sacchi Green was reviewed at Kissed By Venus.

Devil’s Rock by Gerri Hill was reviewed at Out in Print Queer Book Review.

Two for the Show by Chris Paynter was reviewed at The Rainbow Reader.

The Gifted Ones by Lisa Vaughn was reviewed at A Bookish Affair.

Affinity by Sarah Waters was reviewed at S. Krishna’s Books.

A Room of One’s Own by Virginia Woolf was discussed (especially the concept of the “androgynous mind”) was discussed at A Year of Feminist Classics.

To Love and To Cherish edited by Lara Zielinsky was reposted on Lara Zielinsky’s blog.

Turning Point by Lara Zielinsky was reviewed at Reviews by Amos Lassen.

Turn for Home by Lara Zielinsky was reviewed at Reviews by Amos Lassen.

allis reviews Valley of the Wolf by Kay Royalty

Valley of the Wolf by Kay Royalty is the story of Ruth, owner of a ranch, and Hannah, married to Josh (whose profession seems to be playing cards and drinking) who just arrived in town. The story evolves around those two women falling in love with each other while having to deal with the constant menace that Josh represents. The premise is simple but attracted me by being placed in a western setting. I am unfamiliar with that period in the USA and wanted something different than my usual readings, so this novel was perfect by being romance and western. That is definitely not a mix you find in my bookshelves.

The start of the novel offers a very beautiful and intriguing scenery with a horse racing against a train. This introduction caught my attention very rapidly and I was eager to learn more about the characters. However once this introduction is over, the writing becomes a bit shaky and put me off for a while. It seems that the author wants to give the reader as much information as possible from all points of view. Sadly the changes of point of view happen too fast and make the story hard to follow. You never stay with a character long enough to get used to its voice that you are already shifting to another one. But, once the exposition phase is over, the novel finds a more stable pace and we can follow the characters more easily, enjoying their story.

The love story between the two girls feels a bit forced at times. They fall in love at first glance (which I didn’t mind) but the way their feelings are described lack in subtlety, especially from Ruth who is supposed to have no idea what is happening to her. I would have liked to see her character struggle a bit more with herself. For example, after their first kiss she seems upset but very quickly she is not anymore and falls into the arms of Hannah, fully accepting her love for her and not questioning anything anymore. I guess the proximity of Jed and Jodie (a gay couple) and the exclusion of any other people around them helped Ruth not to question anything but it did seem a bit strange that almost no thoughts of doubts appeared in her mind.

I was also a bit saddened by the island the ranch provided. The characters rarely go into town and consequently the western aspect of the novel is not really exploited. Though the isolation of Ruth and Hannah with Jed and Jodie provides some really sweet « family » moments between the four of them.

The constant danger that Josh provides to the story is a good idea as it brings some action, but it is too easy to guess when and how he is going to act. He is the bad guy and that’s it. He seems to only be used as a plot device.

All in all it is not a bad read but the novel could gain in subtlety in its narration to make the actions and feelings of the various characters less obvious. The lack of any suspense whatsoever kept putting me off. As a result of this lack of depth I didn’t enjoy the novel as much as I expected to and I know it’s not going to end up in my « to reread » pile of books.

If you are looking for a light, quick and easy read about two girls falling in love in a vague western background – with a bonus of gay cowboys – this might be the book you’re looking for. Otherwise I wouldn’t particularly recommend it to you.

Laura Mandanas and Nichole review Sleeping with the Frenemy by KT Grant

Nichole:

I absolutely loved this book. Deborah is possibly one of the most relatable characters I’ve come across in a long time and still she is raw and sweet and a bit of a bitch. She’s been through hell and manages to come out on top and I know I spent the entire book rooting for her success.

Deborah is the main character and from the first page I was drawn into her. She is sexy and shy and oh so sweet, but there is a darker side to Deborah’s life. Grant brings to life in raw, unyeilding terms, the horrors of abusive relationships, which stand true no matter the sex of the partners. But Deborah is not a victim, not anymore anyway.

Perhaps that’s why I clung to every page. She isn’t running, but becoming something bigger, something better and realizing she is deserving of more than the “love” she’s had for four years.

The icing on the cake came with Brigette, a fiery red head with a passion for art and Deborah. Tenderness and an ache for love pulse through her every move and Grant lets you see that in the sweetest way.

Sure there are times when the plot drags and a few choppy sentences, but overall this novel had me spell bound. (I literally read it in one sitting.) A great plot, heavy emotion and a few sweet, sultry love scenes make this book a keeper in my collection. 🙂

– Nichole

—————————-

Laura:

I had a bit of a different take on this book. While I found the sex scenes to be compelling and well written, they were the lone bright spots in a sea of mediocrity. Sleeping with the Frenemy is utterly predictable; there’s just no cleverness, no imagination, no life. The plot reads as if Lifetime fired their absolute worst scriptwriter and he or she got a $5 an hour temp job churning out cheap romance paperbacks. The villain even has a classical music soundtrack, for crying out loud.

Also? This is just a minor annoyance I had, but Sleeping with the Frenemy really doesn’t make sense as a title. Frenemy: friend + enemy. Neither of the women the protagonist sleeps with meet this description. A more appropriate title might have been “Damp: Ladies Who Need to Get It On 30+ Times A Day.” Or “J. Anistonitis: Life With Spidey-Sense Nipples.” Or possibly “Foolish: An Abused Young Woman Who Never Even Considers Calling The Police and Almost Gets Killed Because Of It.”

Beyond that, the ebook is cheap and the sex scenes are plentiful. I wouldn’t call this a bad book, but it’s certainly not a good one, either. Your call.

– Laura

Guest Lesbrarian Orange Sorbet reviews Written on the Body by Jeanette Winterson

I am not a fan of purple prose (or anything even slightly resembling it); I much prefer stories being told as they are because I am very much a non-fiction kind of person. I didn’t expect to become a fan of Jeanette Winterson, for she has spoken of her discovery that “plot was meaningless to [her]” and that “[her] love affair was with language, not with what it said.” Neither did I expect to like Written on the Body much when I opened the book and was greeted by this:

I am thinking of a certain September: Wood pigeon Red Admiral Yellow Harvest Orange Night. You said, ‘I love you.’ Why is it that the most unoriginal thing we can say to one another is still the thing we long to hear? ‘I love you’ is always a quotation. You did not say it first and neither did I, yet when you say it and when I say it we speak like savages who have found three words and worship them. I did worship them but now I am alone on a rock hewn out of my own body.

That’s not to say I didn’t like this quote, however. I did. Just a couple of paragraphs down (get the book!) and I was hooked in a way I could not have anticipated, in spite of the run-on sentences and quixotic references. I can’t really describe Winterson’s writing – and I apologise for this, because I realise this is part of the point of reviews – but it is at times sharp and witty, clever and observant, and unfailingly flowery and rich. I might call it self-indulgent, at times, but never quite lyrical; there is an awkward pace to her words, like the words are tumbling out of the narrator rather than flowing as you would expect a love story to. (Perhaps I am mistaken in labelling a “love story,” though, because it is very much more a one-sided narrative that often appears to be about love itself instead of any one particular love.) I will admit that I did skim through some parts, especially the latter part of the book, and I would be perfectly comfortable with it being a hundred pages shorter but I think this is more my impatience and discomfort with decorated prose rather than a fault of the book itself. I can imagine others enjoying this much more than me.

She nodded. ‘When I saw you two years ago I thought you were the most beautiful creature male or female I had ever seen.’

The key twist – or gimmick, if you’re so inclined – of this book is that you know practically nothing of the narrator. In particular, readers are kept guessing at the narrator’s gender and sexuality. I loved this concept, and I loved reading a narrative about love and infatuation and sex without gender thrown in the mix. It was never an issue that took away from the story and was instead a persistent curiosity that kept me turning the pages.

There is something significant I think you must understand before reading this book: because the picture of the narrator is so incomplete, your biases will influence the way you read this book very strongly. It’s a love-it-or-hate-it kind of book, and which side you fall on could change on any given day. I did not for a moment feel that the narrator was anything but female and young – I could’ve imagined it, but I was sure then that I was picking up on a fair bit of misandry and stereotypically youthful foolishness (if I am to be allowed some amount of ageism here) – but I have heard of those who thought otherwise. Experiments with gender aside, this is still a love narrative first and foremost and one of the most intense, obsessive kind, nonetheless: I probably wouldn’t have enjoyed it if I were feeling particularly alone or nauseated by coupledom (see: Valentine’s Day). You will be, after all, essentially listening to someone go on and on about a newfound love interest, albeit with more fluency and fluorish than I’m sure your real life infatuated friends can manage in their varying states of enamour. Finally, if you are conservative, or maybe just squeamish? Stay far, far away.

All in all, I would definitely recommend reading this book. It’s not for everyone, but I’d say it’s worth a read because it’s different and something that you might just enjoy exploring.

In bereavement books they tell you to sleep with a pillow pulled down beside you. […] Who writes these books? Do they really think, those quiet concerned counsellors, that two feet of linen-bound stuffing will assuage a broken heart? I don’t want a pillow I want your moving breathing flesh. I want you to hold my hand in the dark, I want to roll on to you and push myself into you. When I turn in the night the bed is continent-broad. There is endless space where you won’t be.

Thank you so much for the review, Orange Sorbet! You can find Orange Sorbet’s blog here, and the original post of this review here.

If you’d like to submit a guest lesbrarian review to the Lesbrary, click here!

Danika reviews Butch is a Noun by S. Bear Bergman

I feel the need to start off by saying: I loved this book. I only keep books that I plan on re-reading, and this one is firmly in the permanent collection. It also an example of why I really try to keep the definition of which books are included in the Lesbrary as open as possible, because I really want to be able to review books like this, which are not just “lesbian” or “bisexual woman” or always “woman” and butch/femme identity is an overlap between sexuality and gender. (On a sidenote, the identities of “butch” and “lesbian” were once problematically merged under the term of “invert”, such as in Well of Loneliness.) This clip of Bergman reading “I Know What Butch Is” (included in this collection) clarifies. [Trigger warning for trans slur]

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qv89wbZHzNQ]

Overall, I loved the writing (though I thought some of the extended metaphors were a little too extended). It’s easy to read and casual. It remind me of Ivan E. Coyote, one of my favourite authors, although obviously in this collection the writings are all about butch identity, where they are more of a undertone in Coyote’s. It has serious and funny parts, personal and general points, and is extremely personal and honest. The writing tries to be inclusive of all butches (as you can see in the clip).

One that stood out for me was “Stick and Stones Will Break My Bones, But Words Will Kill Me”, in which Bergman appears to have quoted some of the things said to hir about hir butch identity. The sentiments are painful just to read, and Bergman leaves you to take them in without hir commentary.

You won’t necessarily agree with everything Bergman says, but ze raises some really interesting questions and observations. Butch is a Noun is a fascinating butch manifesto and a brilliant and timely re-examination of masculinity. Highly recommended.

Weekly Link Round Up

Bella Books posted New Books from Saxon, Robbi and Robinson – Newsletter 05/2011.

GLBT Promo Blog posted Lesfic and Bi fic centerstage on Readings radio.

Golden Crown Literary Society posted the finalists for their 2011 Goldie Awards.

Lamda Literary posted

Little Sister’s posted some pictures of their store as of May 2011.

Out In Print Queer Book Review posted Saints and Sinners Opening Day, Saints and Sinners Day Two, and The Final Day of Saints and Sinners.

Rainbow Awards posted Cover Contest – Round 1 – Slot 3.

Readings in Lesbian and Bisexual Women’s Fiction posted Readings with Chris Paynter.

Women and Words posted an interview by Andi Marquette of her character Chris Gutierrez.

Bett Norris posted Local Author Makes Bookstore Appearance.

Bingo Barge Murder by Jessie Chandler was reviewed at The Rainbow Reader.

Missed Her by Ivan Coyote was reviewed at GLBT Reviews.

Girl Unwrapped by Gabriella Goliger was reviewed at Kirkus Reviews.

GLBTQ: The Survival Guide For Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender, and Questioning Teens by Kelly Huegel was reviewed at I’m Here. I’m Queer. What the Hell Do I Read?

Unavailable: One Lesbian’s Struggle with the Bisexuality of Other Women by Angela Kelly was reviewed at Three Dollar Bill Reviews.

Not Every River by Robbi McCoy was reviewed at Lamda Literary.

The End: Five Queer Kids Save the World by Nora Olsen was reviewed at QueerYA.

She Loves You, She Loves You Not by Julie Anne Peters was reviewed at Christina’s Reads & Reviews.

“Diary of a Club ‘Bot” by D.B. Story was reviewed at Elisa.

Pink by Lili Wilkinson was reviewed at Bookish Blather.

Laura Mandanas reviews Forbidden Passages

Forbidden Passages: Writings Banned in Canada is a book of essays, short stories, and excerpts of texts that have been seized and censored in Canada. The collection features a broad range of perspectives and does not shy away from any subject. (Due, unfortunately, to the fact that Canadian censors shy away from just about everything.) Readers who are weak of heart or stomach, consider yourself duly warned: on topics of transgressive sexuality, many of these works are unflinchingly graphic.

So do I recommend this book to you? Honestly, I’m not sure. If you read cover to cover, you will almost certainly encounter things that are not to your taste. When I got to “Spiral” by David Wojnarowicz (excerpted from Memories That Smell Like Gasoline), I started gagging and had to put the book down. It was, like… graphic, rape-y scenes between men and boys who weren’t even old enough to legally consent. Not my cup of tea.

On the other hand, there were also some real gems. I totally loved the excerpt “Mama” by Dorothy Allison, from her 1988 classic, Trash. In particular, I really appreciated the casual treatment of sexual orientation here; the main character’s lesbian identity wasn’t the be-all and end-all. Instead, the focus was on the main character’s relationship with her mother, whose wrinkled hands and gravy-thick accent practically leapt off the page — so skillfully did Allison bring them to life. It was sublime.

Another fine piece of writing: Kathy Acker’s “Dead: Carved Into Roses”, from Empire of the Senseless. Wow. The raw power of her imagery completely blew me away. Also: “Eating the Other: Desire and Resistance” by bell hooks, from Black Looks, Race and Representation. Fantastic. Though at times dry and academic, the otherwise frank and intelligent discussion of interracial attraction was spot on. Ooh, and can we talk about Pat Califia’s descriptive detail in “The Surprise Party” from Macho Slutsfor a minute? Excruciating. Whether that’s your scene or not… That, my friends, is how you write pornography. Oof.

For all the good bits, I’ve got to say, this still isn’t a book I’d casually suggest to friends. And if my little sister asked to borrow it, I’d probably conveniently misplace my copy for the entirety of the next decade. Really and truly, this is a book for mature readers who know what they’re getting into. But if that’s you? By all means, go for it. You may be surprised by what you end up liking.

– Laura

[Danika: I read this book recently as well, so I thought I’d chime in. There’s definitely a wide variety of writing in this collection. I had to put down the book at the same spot. I felt physically ill. And I have to admit, some of the academic writing went right over my head. I think the value in this collection is the context: these are all writings banned for similar reasons, as if they are all equivalent. Seeing the erotica, the violence, and the academic writings all side-by-side shows how ridiculous it is to treat them all as the same.]