Danika reviews Love Spell by Karen Williams

Posted on October 29, 2011 by Danika Ellis

Okay, so it may be a little late to pick this up for Halloween, but still!

I’ll admit, I picked up this book entirely because of Rie (Friend of Dorothy Wilde)’s review, so you should probably check that out.

I’m going to go with the negatives first, in a convenient bulleted list

There definitely is a cheese factor. The beginning seemed cheesy and kind of sudden (their meeting).
There are two characters in the novel that are little people. They are referred to as “dwarves” the entire time, which I understand as being reflective of the 90s, but they are often referred to as “the dwarves” instead of their names. Plus, they are equated with fantasy dwarves.
I have a pet peeve about excessive italics, and the dialogue has some.
There’s a long party scene with a long conversation with tons of characters that I thought was mostly unnecessary.
Pretty much half the women in this small town are lesbians…?

That’s not the whole story, though! Despite the list of issues I had with Love Spell… I also really liked it! I can definitely see the rereadability factor. The characters are likeable and natural. Other than that party scene, the story seems concise and it’s a quick read.

The best for me was the chemistry between the characters. The romance really seemed natural. You could see why they would fall for each other, and their relationship seems to unfold naturally. [spoilers] The one part that seemed odd/unnatural for me was when she finds out that Allegra is green, she instantly thinks that Allegra has cast a love spell on her. It seems like a big leap to go from green -> real witch -> she can do magic! -> she did magic on me! all at once. [end spoilers]

The chemistry is enough to overrule most of the problems I had with it. I may not be picking it up to reread, but I could definitely see the appeal.

Allysse reviews Women’s Barrack by Tereska Torres

Posted on October 26, 2011 by Danika Ellis

Women’s Barracks is a novel by Tereska Torrès. It depicts the lives of a few women and girls who worked for the Free French Forces that existed in London during World War 2. The novel is a sort of collection of snapshots of their lives. It is based upon the journals the author wrote during her time in the Free French Froces. There is no plot per se but only the portraits of those persons trying to live through the war.

Our point of entry in the story is the voice of the narrator who was one of those women, who experienced everything with the rest of the protagonists in the book. However she never really takes any part in any of the actions. She is a constant presence, someone in whom everybody confesses their story and she merely relates them to us, always staying in the background herself, never involved in anything. She is just a witness relating what she saw and heard. It can be easily understood though. The novel was apparently the first pulp novel to candidly address lesbian relationships and the author married at the time might have not want to be associated with the lives of her characters. She even refused its publication in France (where she lived), but later on published her journals there under another title. I haven’t read or even had a look at her journals so I don’t know how much of the novel is based from her observations and reality compared to and how much she created for the novel.

To get back to the characters… they are a mix of women and girls, all of them out of their country with no home and no family. Dynamics soon takes place between them, the older women trying to protect the younger ones, to educate them. It is an extraordinary time – in the sense of out of the ordinary – and as time goes by and the war doesn’t end there is a loss of hope for everyone. War is becoming the everyday life, chaos normal, and the island that is the Free French Forces constitutes the home of those women and girls. They seek confort among each other, security and reassurance in a world that is becoming familiar, filled with people they understand and that understand them.

The author mentions a few “real” lesbians but they are merely in the background of the novel, appearing here and there but never really taking the main place in the novel. However the author describes to us the relationships of other women who sleeps with other women but are not normally lesbians. I actually like how she describe those relationships. For Claude and Ursula for example it is a simple relationship of love/control/fascination. Claude being much older than Ursula she is sort of her teacher that Ursula idolized. As for Claude and Mickey it is pure amusement. Mickey is depicted as a lover, as a woman always having fun and making the most of life. She simply loves anyone regardless of their gender.

I really enjoyed the novel but I have to admit that at first I expected it to be more scandalous. But then, I remember that I am a reader in the 2010’s and that I definitely don’t live in the same cultural environment and experience as people in the 1950’s.

But still, I didn’t find the novel really shocking and to me it is not about the lesbian relationships that happened during World War 2 between the women of the story. It is a story about people who were all lost in some way, seeking comfort and warmth among each other, clinging to what they knew, to what felt familiar and safe. It is also a novel about life trying to keep on as normal in extraordinary circumstances, a world in which games of love still happened. I especially like this quote “There seemed to be only frenzied sexual adventures, promiscuity, or these sad, strange inversions. I wondered unhappily whether love could exist in out upset wartime world, the plain, faithful love between one woman and one man.” because I feel it sums up the novel quite well. In spite of everything all those women are simply looking for love but don’t know how to find it in a world in which your lover could be taken away from you and die at any moment.

Maryam reviewed Reclaiming the L-Word: Sappho’s Daughters Out in Africa edited by Allyn Diesel

Posted on October 24, 2011 by Danika Ellis

I just finished Reclaiming the L-Word: Sappho’s Daughters Out in Africa, edited by Allyn Diesel. It is a wonderful anthology of personal essays, poetry, and photographs, each African woman telling the tale of what it is to be queer in South Africa. They range from the heartwarming – Yulinda Noortman’s description of shopping for wedding fabric with her bride-to-be, in “The Dog, The Cat, The Parrot and the Pig and Other Tales” – to the heartwrenching: Keba Sebetoane’s “Who Are You to Tell Me What I Am?”, the brief, calamitous tale of her struggle with rape and the flawed system that kept her, and so many other women, from justice. My favorite was “I Have Truly Lost a Woman I Loved”, which features the wonderful photography of Zanele Muholi – one of her photographs graces this volume’s cover – and is a loving essay to her late mother. I only wished that some of the photographs she wrote about had been included in this book. Although some of the essays may begin in a similar fashion – I was married to a man, and then… or When I was a child…, there is something in the collection that everyone should be able to appreciate, and should serve as food for thought both in terms of social justice and how we relate to other women, no matter what their place in the queer spectrum.

Casey reviews Ana Historic by Daphne Marlatt

Posted on October 23, 2011 by Danika Ellis

For a viscerally experimental and gorgeously postmodern glimpse at queer Canadian women’s herstory, there is no better place to look than Daphne Marlatt’s 1988 novel Ana Historic. I say postmodern and experimental because the novel undoubtedly is, but this is not so much a warning as an invitation to watch Marlatt deftly and beautifully use words to carve out a space for queer women not only in Canadian history, but also in contemporary Canadian society. This carving needs to take the form of Marlatt’s disarming poetics and rhizomatic, circular style in order to do the difficult and necessary work of counteracting the overwhelmingly masculinist history that the protagonist Annie—ironically or perhaps appropriately a failed history graduate student—begins to understand as only “a certain voice” (111).

The anchor in the novel, Annie Torrent, is a contemporary Vancouverite disappointed with the ways in which her life has followed a conventional woman’s heterosexual plotline. She becomes obsessed with a little-known historical figure, Mrs. Richards, a widowed British woman who emigrated to Vancouver in the late 1800s and determines to tell her story. This telling is mostly directed at Annie’s mother Ina, at whom Annie is angry, perhaps most of all for the ways in which she begins to see their lives overlapping; like Ina, Annie is “in the midst of freedom yet not free” (54). She realizes the life she is living, married with children to her former history professor Richard—whose name of course echoes Mrs. Richards’s name, which is the rem(a)inder of her deceased husband—is unfulfilling but she struggles to build a path that might lead out of it. Luckily, Annie meets Zoe, an artist, in the archives while doing research for her project and Zoe becomes her first reader, challenging Annie both about her feminist politics as well as sexually. When near the end of the novel Zoe provocatively asks Annie what she wants, Annie boldly answers: “you. i want you. and me. together” (157). The end of Annie’s story in the novel, then, is only her lesbian beginning.

Telling the life stories of Annie, her mother Ina, and Mrs. Richards, Marlatt creates an alternative queer feminist discourse that refuses to be tied down into either a linear narrative or conclusive characterization. Indeed, although there are distinctions made between the three main characters, their identities are also necessarily blurred, in the same way that the novel refuses to draw boundaries between prose and poetry and between fiction and history. At one point, Ina accuses her daughter: “the trouble with you, Annie, is that you want to tell a story, no matter how much history you keep throwing at me” (27). This profoundly poetic novel insists, however, that history is nothing but men’s stories made fact and that women need to dismantle the fiction/fact dichotomy and “mak[e] fresh tracks” with their own stories in the snowy landscape of the past (98). Women writing their stories, as Annie does for Mrs. Richards and Marlatt does for Annie (and perhaps herself?), is the “body insisting itself in the words” (46). If you can look at the words of this novel as a woman’s body—that delightful and frightening unruly femaleness—then the sometimes bewildering experience of sifting through Ana Historic can become a delightfully ecstatic one. There is an enormous amount of life in this novel; Marlatt presents us with the vivid image that books are “breath bated between two plastic covers” (16) and I’d encourage any reader to challenge herself to mingle her breath with Marlatt’s and her characters’ by picking up Ana Historic.

Danika reviews 18th & Castro by Karin Kallmaker

Posted on October 22, 2011 by Danika Ellis

18th & Castro by Karin Kallmaker is a collection of stories set on Halloween in the Castro. It’s part of the “Bella After Dark” (erotica) collection of Bella Books, which I wasn’t aware of when I picked it up. It’s still not entirely erotica, though. The emphasis is more on the characters and relationships than the sex.

I love that storytelling device of stories weaving together, and this collection does that well. As the title suggests, almost all of the stories take place in one apartment complex. Characters that are barely mentioned in one story get their own several stories later. Moments witnessed by bystanders get continued somewhere else.

And the stories are interesting! It’s the dynamics that drew me in. Budding relationships, years-long relationships, old and young lovers are all in the mix. Each story has the characters interacting in unique ways, though. They seemed rounded, even if they don’t get a very long story.

There’s also the bonus factor of Halloween, of course! It isn’t overwhelming (there’s only one story with a supernatural element, many characters stay home), but it’s a nice background theme for the season.

I did have a few problems with the stories, though. One is the hint of cissexism (equating lesbianism only and always with vulvas) that crops up more than once. Another was that although the dialogue seemed natural and unique to each character most of the time, the sex talk seemed really awkward to me, and it all seemed awkward in the same way. Almost all of the characters referred to their partner as “baby,” which perhaps is just a personal pet peeve, but still seemed too uniform. The sex talk in general just seemed stilted.

Other than that, though, it was a strong collection, and a good first introduction to Karin Kallmaker.

Link Round Up

Posted on October 19, 2011 by Danika Ellis

AfterEllen posted

Autostraddle posted Effort to Repeal California Gay History in Schools Officially Fails and “Lavender Scare” [the documentary based on the book] Exposes The US Government’s Cold War Era Gay Witch Hunt.

Lambda Literary posted

Ashley Bartlett was interviewed at Bold Strokes Books Authors’ Blog.

Melissa Brayden was interviewed at Bold Strokes Books Authors’ Blog.

Emma Donoghue was interviewed at Metro.

Stella Duffy was interviewed at The Advocate.

Erin Dutton was interviewed at Bold Strokes Books Authors’ Blog.

Malinda Lo posted On Love Triangles and Why I write young adult fiction.

Val McDermid was interviewed at AfterEllen.

Radclyffe was written about at F/F Fan Fiction Readers’ Corner.

M.L. Rice was interviewed at Bold Strokes Books Authors’ Blog.

Amy Dawson Robertson posted Phew! The new book is officially finished!

Sarah Schulman was interviewed at Windy City Times.

Rachel Spangler was interviewed at Bold Strokes Books Authors’ Blog.

Ali Vali posted “Where Do My Characters Come From?” at Bold Strokes Books Authors’ Blog.

M.J. Williamz was interviewed at Bold Strokes Books Authors’ Blog.

Stieg Larson’s Millenium Trilogy is being made into graphic novels.

The Girls Club by Sally Bellerose was reviewed at Lambda Literary.

Brooklyn, Burning by Steve Brezenoff was reviewed at Queer YA.

Sub Rose by Amber Dawn was reviewed at Kissed By Venus.

The Dark Wife by Sarah Diemer was reviewed at Good Lesbian Books.

“Far” by Sarah Diemer was reviewed at The Rainbow Reader.

Complete Hothead Paisan: Homicidal Lesbian Terrorist by Diane DiMassa was reviewed at Shelly’s LGBT Book Review Blog.

Inseparable: Passion Between Women in Literature by Emma Donoghue was discussed at Ellen and Jim Have A Blog, Two.

The Sealed Letter by Emma Donoghue was reviewed at The Daily Mail and The Independent, and List.

Vicious Little Darlings by Katherine Easer was reviewed at QueerYA.

The Price of Salt by Patricia Highsmith was reviewed at AfterEllen.

Christabel by Karin Kallmaker was reviewed at Good Lesbian Books.

Second Best Fantasy by Angela Kelly was reviewed at Bibrary Book Lust.

Waiting by Q. Kelly was reviewed at The Rainbow Reader.

Happy Accidents by Jane Lynch was interviewed at Lambda Literary.

Photographs of Claudia by KG MacGregor was reviewed at Piercing Fiction: Straight Arrow Reviews.

On A Silver Platter by Linda Morganstein was reviewed at AfterEllen.

Fearless by Erin O’Reilly was reviewed at Piercing Fiction: Straight Arrow Reviews.

Flaunt It! Queers Organizing for Public Education and Justice by Therese Quinn and Erica R. Meiners was reviewed at Shelly’s LGBT Book Review Blog.

The Honor Series by Radclyffe was reviewed at F/F Fan Fiction Reader’s Corner.

Empress of the World by Sara Ryan was reviewed at Good Lesbian Books.

After the Fall by Robin Summers was reviewed at Piercing Fiction: Straight Arrow Reviews.

Take Me There: Trans and Genderqueer Erotica edited by Tristan Taormino was reviewed at Bibrary Book Lust.

The Night Watch by Sarah Waters was reviewed at The Frugal Reader.

“The Doge’s Daughter” by Gabriella West was reviewed at The Rainbow Reader.

Laura reviews Fist of the Spider Woman edited by Amber Dawn

Posted on October 18, 2011 by Danika Ellis

Fist of the Spider Woman, edited by Amber Dawn, is an anthology of 16 poems and short stories written in the queer space where fear meets desire. With subject matter ranging from vampires to pubic lice, this coolly creepy collection is the perfect paperback to pick up as Halloween draws near.

As Dawn notes in the introduction, “Fist’s contributor’s know what it means to operate outside of the norm. This puts us in a position to uncover distinctively queer, distinctively woman-centered horrors, and bring life to empathy-worthy victims and villains rarely seen before.” Yes, yes, and yes. The overall execution is marvelous; I’ve been turning these stories over in my head for weeks now, and I’m still not sick of it. If you’re looking for vivid characters and situations, this collection has it in spades.

While I wouldn’t say that all the pieces are hits, none are misses, either. A few are just stunningly, dazzlingly, take-your-breath-away beautiful. Here are a couple of my favorite passages:

From “All You Can Be” by Mette Bach:

“Do you believe in fate?” Brianna asked. “Do you think that maybe all this was meant to happen so that we could meet?”

Sal, who had always been an atheist and a practitioner of science, mathematics, and calculable randomness, heard her voice declare without hesitation, “Yes. I believe in fate.”

“I really like you, Sal.”

The phrase, like butter melting on toast, seeped into Sal.

“I really like you too, Brianna.”

From “Shark” by Kestrel Barnes:

I’d been scared that Carling would be born a shark, but she wasn’t, I soon satisfied myself of that. Her eyes were green as the tidepools and filled with life. Her mewls held no menace, her mouth was toothless and birdline. She smelled like the rainforest after it rained. She couldn’t swim, not in the bath, where I carefully examined her — no fins, no gills, no cartilage, and no tail. After that I knew for sure Carling wasn’t a shark. She was just my little sister.

For a memorable fix of fantasy mixed with a little terror, you really can’t do much better. Check out this exquisite read out for yourself: $17.95 from Arsenal Pulp Press.

Danika reviews The Salt Roads by Nalo Hopkinson

Posted on October 15, 2011 by Danika Ellis

First of all, how amazing is that cover? Doesn’t it make you want to pick it up just by itself?

Amazingly, this was a book I was assigned in a class. I very reluctantly put down Inseparable by Emma Donoghue (which is also amazing, and I will be reviewing it later) to read The Salt Roads, but by the time I reached page 15 and there was a f/f sex scene, I changed my tune.

My library put a sci-fi sticker on this book, which is clearly incorrect, but I think the label of “Fantasy” wouldn’t be much better. Fabulism sounds closer, but I hesitate to use that either, since I am fairly sure I wouldn’t say that about a book that was rooted in Christian religion as much as The Salt Roads is rooted in West African religion.

The Salt Roads bounces between many characters and times, and each has their own distinct voice. A god has her own voice and storyline, and she and other gods make physical, observable impact on reality. The queer content is mainly in the beginning of the novel, with more of a focus on colonialism, racism, oppression, resistance, slavery, etc, but it still definitely has an impact on many of the characters.

I’m not sure how exactly to describe The Salt Roads. It goes all over the place, sometimes rocketing between characters and sometimes remaining in one place for a long time. I was rarely ever irritated by that, though, and it was easy enough to keep the whole cast of characters straight. There was perhaps no coherent plot arc, but… with some books, it just doesn’t matter. It didn’t need one. It was about ideas, about the people. I really liked it, and I recommend it to anyone who is looking for queer literature featuring women of colour (or more accurately, literature with WoC that also has queer content).

Anna reviews Storms by Gerri Hill

Posted on October 13, 2011 by Danika Ellis

I’ve read almost all of the books Gerri Hill has written. I’ve enjoyed romances like Behind the Pine Curtain and Love Waits and been more skeptical of recent “action-romance” pieces like The Scorpion. Thankfully, Storms (2011) falls more into the mold of the engaging romances I favor, in both good and bad ways.

Carson Cartwright is an heiress who has spent the many years since being exiled from her family’s Montana ranch traveling and having casual sexual encounters. She is very careful not to get too attached to any person or place. When her twin brother, Chase, entreats her to visit their father on his deathbed, she returns home for the first time since her mother’s tragic death–for which she was blamed by her father. The prodigal daughter is not welcomed back with open arms by all of her four brothers or her father, however. She soon discovers that the ranch is failing, and the brothers have grudgingly agreed to hire an attractive consultant, Kerry Elder, to advise them on transforming the property to a lucrative guest ranch.

Carson immediately perks up upon encountering Kerry, even though her brother Cody (all of the siblings have C-names) feels that he has a prior claim and warns Kerry of her woman-stealing ways. Kerry, who considers herself straight, was not above strategically flirting to get a contract, but bristles at Cody’s protective attitude. When the women are left alone together as the brothers participate in the ranch’s cattle drive, sparks begin to fly as storms rage across the prairie landscape.

The chemistry between Carson and Kerry is believable and ably depicted, although I did sigh a bit when I got to the “Kerry isn’t straight, she’s just never been with a woman before!” discussions. The book was comfortably predictable in terms of the romance, employing such tropes as the older housekeeper who secretly roots for Carson and Kerry to get together; the jealous and violent family member; the prodigal child returning; deathbed drama; and violent storms as a metaphor for internal turmoil. However, all of these things are well-worn and recognizable in the way a favorite pair of shoes might be. And I will likely wear this pair again, the next time Hill releases a book.