Elinor reviews Best Lesbian Romance of the Year: Volume One edited by Radclyffe

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I am so happy I read this anthology. The introduction starts with an Audre Lorde quote, which is the right way to kick off a book. The stories ran the gamut from meeting cute to the culmination of decades of longing. Every story ended happily, those happy endings felt genuine and deserved, and drama and angst never overwhelmed any of the love stories. Romance can be hard to condense into a short story, but editor Radclyffe curated a solid collection of 18 tales. This book includes stories from established writers like Sacchi Green, Rebekah Weatherspoon, and Giselle Renarde, among many others.

There’s plenty of sex in this anthology, a lot of which rivals some erotica anthologies in terms of heat. I was delighted by this. The sex scenes seemed largely organic to the relationships in these stories and were an extension of the romance. Not every story included sex, and some of my favorite stories involved little more than kissing, a testament to the great writing in this book.

I was glad that this collection had so many stories of long-term couples. This included a couple of more than a decade trying to beat the heat by getting out of their old and AC-less house (and having hot sex) in “Cooling Down, Heating Up.” In “Little Bit of Ivory,” a couple reconnects after one woman has been traveling for work. “A Royal Engagement” offered up a lesbian member of the British royalty and gave her a charming engagement story, while “Going to the Chapel” features a couple bringing out the best in each other, even in absurd circumstances, on the way to their own wedding. “Gargoyle Lovers” rounds out the wedding theme with a sexy Parisian honeymoon. “Wiggle-Wiggle-Womp” comes with a cute twist. “Beautiful” features a kinky narrator and her partner returning to their local BDSM scene after a battle with cancer has transformed the narrator’s body. I loved the way “Beautiful” showcased the tenderness and freedom submission can bring, all while rejecting normative ideals about bodies and beauty. My absolute favorite story in this collection was Rebekah Weatherspoon’s “Forever Yours, Eileen,” about Eileen and June, lifelong friends over the age of sixty who are finally exploring the relationship they’ve both wanted, and waited for, for years. June and Eileen were friends as children in the South, separated when June’s family moved north in fear of 1950s racial violence. Their love bloomed in letters and brief visits even as they married men, raised children, and built typical-looking lives. Now both single, Eileen is meeting June in New York. This one made me cry in a good way.

There were also plenty of couples starting new relationships, too. Radclyffe’s lovely story “Bad Girls and Sweet Kisses” reminded me of being eighteen and in love for the first time. A stuck light bulb sparks new feelings about a helpful friend in “Light.” Camping sounds a lot more fun in “Waterfall” (even though there’s a concussion in this story). You get to indulge your barista-crush in “Red Velvet Cake.” An out-of-character nude modeling gig leads to self-discovery and romance in “Some Nudity Required.” Grumpy teenagers find love with some help from a hippie in “Love Dance.” An ex shows growth in “Dance Fever,” and an assistant gets to see a softer side of her sexy, ice queen boss in “Unexpected Bliss.” “Long Drive” is unique and charming because it focuses on a couple who have been conducting their relationship via phones and Internet after meeting online, and are meeting in person for the first time. Though a few of these new couple love stories seemed to progress their relationships quite fast, it didn’t seem all that unrealistic.

The only story I didn’t really like was “Like a Breath of Ocean Blue,” about a woman crushing on her coworker by the sea. It was just too overwritten for me and the love interest didn’t read like an authentic person. One lackluster story in a collection of eighteen is not bad though.

I was very happy that there was some diversity in gender presentation in this book, and people of different sizes and ages. I wanted more racial diversity, though. With a few exceptions, like “Going to the Chapel” and “Forever Yours, Eileen,” there were a lot of white people in this book. This might just be me, but I also wished Best Lesbian Romance of the Year: Volume One had included a story about lesbians raising kids or on the road to parenthood.

Quibbles aside, this is an excellent anthology of lesbian romance. If you’re at all interested in the genre, you should read this. Highly recommended.

Kalyanii reviews Slow Burn by Marlene Leach

 

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If truth be told, very little offends me. After all, I spent several years reviewing erotica back in the 1990’s, before the genre assumed any sense of responsibility with regard to consent, transparency or human dignity. However, in spite of all that fell short within Slow Burn, author Marlene Leach succeeded in utterly sickening me with scenes in which women with traumatic histories were either taken while in a dissociated state and physically incapacitated or used for the reclamation of one’s own fractured sexuality. That being said, what put me over the top was one particular scene in which continued sexual manipulation was condoned for its ability to heal the victim. I am floored that any author, especially one writing for the LGBT community, would dare promote sexual practices that perpetuate trauma as a means to a happy ending.

But, I get ahead of myself…

The year is 2048. The country is on the verge of collapse as corporations have taken over virtually every aspect of society, from governmental functions to the school and transportation systems as well as access to information and technology. The air is unfit to breathe, and domes are established within cities — until the money runs out. Testing determines one’s future, while those who exhibit dissenting tendencies are promptly medicated and monitored.

A year to the day that her lover, Leah, a renowned social critic and political activist, is captured by government agents and presumed dead, Lydia is prepared to end her own life; yet, a rap on the door late in the night interrupts her plans. When Lydia frees the latch, she discovers a young woman of eighteen, named Kay, who informs her that Leah is still alive and that she is willing to help Lydia find her. Kay explains that she was introduced to Leah’s writings by her history teacher, later deemed to be a Dissenter, and had found that her words and ideas helped her to feel less alone in the world. Leah was her idol, a brilliant and influential woman with whom she had hoped to one day study.

After a series of unlikely events which facilitate their journey from Maine to California, Lydia and Kay rescue Leah from Pennington Labor Camp. Leah is emaciated, reeks of her own waste, is missing teeth and suffers from oozing open wounds. Though Leah is unable to walk, the three women are able to find shelter in the woods, where Kay assists in her recovery. Rather than contribute to the restoration of Leah’s health, Lydia, absorbed in her need for closeness, performs oral sex on her partner while Kay is away on a supply run. The way the scene is written, wherein Lydia determines that Leah deserves the pleasure of her lover’s “eating her out” while Leah is yet unable to ambulate or take food, proved simply gruesome. Call me conventional, but this is simply not something I would expect of a loving and committed partner.

At varying points in the novel, both Lydia and Leah express their attraction to Kay, who has endured more than her fair share of pain and is described as being emotionally stunted. Whereas Lydia cuddles her in a manner that comes across as downright creepy but supposedly nurturing, Leah takes full advantage of Kay’s trust and admiration in order to touch upon her own lost ability to access desire. Rather than stopping the behavior upon realizing the gravity of her destructive behavior, Leah continues to seduce Kay so as to assist in her healing.

The novel overall is clumsily executed and wholly unbelievable, from the introduction of the characters right down to its victorious conclusion. Yet, it is the condoning of sexual manipulation and exploitation that continues to stick in my craw. Bring on the edginess and the challenges to sexual mores; but, once a traumatized adolescent is used for the pleasure of the middle-aged woman who she upholds as a teacher and mentor, I’m no longer on board.

Link Round Up: June 29 – July 5

loveinthegildedageAs in previous years, this list was the most difficult to compile and is unfortunately much shorter than the other two lists. Many books that feature queer disabled people don’t make it clear in their cover blurb or promotional materials. I rely heavily on detailed book reviews – and occasionally random happenstance – to find books for this list. If you know any books that fit the theme, please do share them with me so I may add them! Remember, only book about disabled queer people, and only works published in 2014.

Here’s everything I found, arranged by genre.

– queer book club posted diversify your queer reads: 2014 books featuring disabled queer people.

Autostraddle posted Hidden Gems of Queer Lit: Chrystos and ‘In Her I Am’ and Drawn to Comics: Check Out This Fresh Romance #2 Sneak Preview for all Your Supernatural Lesbian Romance Needs!

Women and Words posted Hot off the Press, July 2015 and Coming Attractions, August 2015.

farfromyou   underthelights   lettheloverbe   toolateiloveyou   wovenmythsasliceofquietude

Under the Lights by Dahlia Adler was reviewed at Leeanna.me.

Too Late… I Love You by Kiki Archer was reviewed at A Modern Girl’s Bookshelf.

A Slice of Quietude by Sharon Cho was reviewed at The Rainbow Hub.

Let the Lover Be by Sheree L. Greer was reviewed at AfterEllen.

Far From You by Tess Sharpe was reviewed at Disability in Kidlit.

This post, and all posts at the Lesbrary, have the covers linked to their Amazon pages. If you click through and buy something, I might get a small referral fee. For even  more links, check out the Lesbrary’s twitterWe’re also on FacebookGoodreadsYoutube and Tumblr.

Danika reviews Virtual Equality: The Mainstreaming of Gay and Lesbian Liberation by Urvashi Vaid

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Virtual Equality: The Mainstreaming of Gay and Lesbian Liberation by Urvashi Vaid is an examination of the history of the gay and lesbian right/liberation movement, as well as its current trajectory. It takes a close look at gay and lesbian advocacy as it stands now and suggests what some of the problems with the movement are and how it can improve. It’s obviously well-informed and thorough about the political climate of the time. There’s just one problem: it was written in 1995.

It’s maybe an odd choice to pick up a book about the state of queer activism from 20 years ago, but I actually found Virtual Equality an interesting—if not a page-turning—read. For one thing, its look at gay and lesbian (and Vaid does mostly concentrate on gay and lesbian activism, though transgender and bisexual activism is mentioned as well) history is still accurate, and since Vaid lived through the activism of the 80s, it’s described in the kind of detail that I think would be glossed over in a more modern overview.

That detail does sometimes devolve into dense history and statistics that are fairly irrelevant now and are a a slog to get through, but the more general history is fascinating, and reminds me that I have a lot more to learn. Also interesting is seeing some of Vaid’s predictions and recommendations some to pass. For instance, she argues early in the book that gay and lesbian activism at the time had relied too heavily on political activism, ignoring cultural activism. Vaid said that we needed to have more cultural representation in order to turn the tide of public opinion. And, of course, in the late 90s onward, we did get a lot more gay and lesbian representation in media, and the public opinion did shift dramatically!

More than history or a look at “current” 90s politics, however, Virtual Equality has a lot to offer in terms of activist strategy. Vaid has a lot of very practical advice about how to build the movement and make it more effective. One of the more interesting aspects of this is her examination of the Christian Right as a political force. I’ll admit that I saw the Christian Right as a sort of timeless presence in American politics, but Vaid describes its rise as a political force, and also what we can learn from them. Namely, the Christian Right in particular and the Supremacist Right (Vaid’s term) in general are incredibly organized, and Virtual Equality argues that we need to use a similar system to educate activists in order to spread knowledge and strategy.

Overall, reading Virtual Equality reminded me of how much we have to learn from our past so that we don’t keep repeating the same mistakes of previous generations of activists. And yes, the bulk of the criticism that Vaid has is still valid. (I was especially grateful that as a woman of colour activist in a community largely of white men, Vaid offers an intersectional look at sexism and racism within the gay and lesbian community as well as homophobia in the feminist and activists of colour communities.) In fact, I might even say that Vaid’s warning about “virtual equality” versus true equality is even more true today. We need to pass on knowledge of activists so that we don’t have to keep reinventing the wheel, and so that we can continue to make progress.

I did find Virtual Equality to be a slow read: it’s dense and occasionally irrelevant, but it also has so much valuable knowledge packed into it. I would highly recommend this for people who are in queer activism—and even if you’re not, Virtual Equality finishes the book by describing practical ways to get involved in activism and politics, or to take it to the next level if you already are. This gave me a lot to think about: it was well worth the time commitment.