Buy this from Bookshop.org to support local bookstores and the Lesbrary!
You’re all fired for not tell me how good this is.
I liked The Girl From the Sea, so I put a hold on Ostertag’s newest sapphic graphic novel, but I hadn’t heard anything about it, so I my expectations were pretty grounded. I definitely didn’t realize it was almost 500 pages; not the one-sitting read I was expecting… or so I thought.
I started reading this before bed, fully intending to get through a chapter or two before going to sleep. Instead, I was glued to the page until I finished it, after which I fully started not just crying but sobbing to myself. (It probably wasn’t 3 A.M., but give me some creative liberty here.) My roommate had to patiently listen to me weepily describe how good this book was. And then he offered me a chocolate chip cookie, which I definitely needed.
This review will have minor spoilers: the back doesn’t tell you what it is that happens in the basement every night, but it’s revealed early in the story. This is about Mags, a teenager who is trying to balance being the primary caregiver to her ailing grandmother, going to school, holding down a part-time job—and feeding her monster. Every night, she descends into the basement, offering her hand for the monster to feed from. It means she doesn’t get a lot of sleep on top of everything else, and it means she feels isolated: how could she ever have a real relationship, when she has such a terrible secret?
Mags is sleepwalking through life, as we can tell from the washed-out colour palette. She’s sleeping with a classmate from school who has a boyfriend. She doesn’t have a social life outside of these secret hook ups. Then, a childhood friend reappears: Nessa. Nessa is bisexual and trans, and she knows Mags’s secret already, because Mags told her when they were kids… except Nessa thinks she imagined it all. As Mags and Nessa spend more time together, Mags begins to wish for more from her life.
My heart broke for Mags, who is carrying so much on her shoulders. Her mother is horrified by her monster and stays distant from her. She thinks, “Mom says I’m so mature. And that’s code for not her problem anymore.” Her abuela is the one who forced her to start feeding her monster as a kid and to keep it a locked away secret. Her uncle, who was the other person in her family in the same situation, ran away with his monster and was never heard from again. She feels alone and like she doesn’t deserve real connection or support. She’s so tired that she’s beginning to faint at random times, and it’s obvious she can’t keep this up forever.
Ultimately, this is a story about accepting and loving the darkest, angriest parts of yourself—and allowing other people to love you in your entirety. Nessa offers Mags a glimpse of a possibility outside of just isolating herself. It’s painful and difficult, but it’s worth it.
As the title warns, this isn’t a light read. On top of Mags’s difficult emotional state and the discussions of intergenerational trauma, Nessa is also recovering from an abusive relationship, one that turned into stalking after they broke up. I also want to give content warnings for violence, death, child death, gun violence, and threatening suicide.
I did not mean to read this in one sitting, but I’m glad I did. I was immersed in this story, and I felt so deeply for Mags. It made the ending cathartic—hence the sobbing. This was obviously written from a personal place, and it’s so effective. This is a new favourite.
