Tag Archives: 2020 LGBT Reads Project

Laura Dean Keeps Breaking Up With Me by Mariko Tamaki and Rosemary Valero-O’Connell

Laura Dean Keeps Breaking Up With Me by Mariko Tamaki

Title: Laura Dean Keeps Breaking Up With Me 
Author: Mariko Tamaki 
Illustrated by Rosemary Valero O-‘Connell 
Publisher: First Second 
ISBN: 978-1626722590
Genre: Graphic Novels, LGBT
Pages: 304 
Source: Publisher 
Rating: 5/5 

Just as the title goes, the book is about Laura Dean, the popular girl at school who keeps breaking up with her girlfriend, Freddy Riley. Well, in a nutshell, this is what the book is about, but there is so much more to it. This graphic novel goes to the heart of teenage dating, sexual orientation, and how does one cope with all of it and more growing up.

This is about a toxic relationship and what it takes to get out of it, or to even understand oneself better while in it or not. Mariko Tamaki does an amazing job of depicting the on and off, and off and on cycle – so amazing that it hits home too hard. At one point, the reader can see themselves in the book, because of course relationships are the same – well almost, and so is the toxicity sometimes that comes with it. At the same time, though the protagonists are teenagers, this book will resonate with readers of any age. We have all been down that road, after all, in one way or the other.

Rosemary Valero O-‘Connell’s illustrations in pink and grey are gentle, grounded in angst and romance. The LGBT cast so to say in the book is diverse, and the plot makes you turn the page faster.  The narrative is sometimes quirky but it all fits in beautifully at the end.

Laura Dean Keeps Breaking Up with Me is about realising your worth in relationships – be it any kind and told with great sensitivity. I wish this book was written when I was younger – basically in my teenage years and needed to know so much more about loving oneself and how sometimes the one you love the most will keep breaking your heart, over and over again. Till you put a stop to it.

Infinity Diary by Cyril Wong

Infinity Diary by Cyril Wong

Title: Infinity Diary
Author: Cyril Wong
Publisher: Seagull Books
ISBN: 9780857427427
Genre: Poetry, LGBTQIA Literature
Pages: 160
Source: Publisher 
Rating: 5/5 

If love is love, then why is it that gay love doesn’t feel like love sometimes? Why does it feel that it will leave? Is it because of my insecurity? Why do I feel that a man’s love will not be enough? When it will be. When it will stay. It will, won’t it?

Love between two men and all the dance that goes around it. The rulebook that isn’t there and is yet followed. There are no rules sometimes and everything is permissible. We are who we are. Cyril Wong shows us the mirror through his book of prose poems “Infinity Diary”. It is written for every gay man out there, for every man who loves another man and doesn’t want to express it, for every man who loves and is unabashed about it, and for every man who also maybe doesn’t want to love.

Cyril Wong’s poetry made me introspect about my relationships with men – the ones that were platonic, the ones not-so-platonic, the ones unrequited, and the ones requited but oh so toxic. His poems don’t just reflect Singapore as a city, and what goes on there behind closed doors between men – the reality of oppression, but makes you realize that it could play out in any city of the world. Even where same-sex love is legal. Even where there is supposed to be no discrimination, and we know there is. “Infinity Diary” is about all of us.

When Wong speaks of glances passed across the room, of desire, of madness in love, of those stolen kisses, of kinks we do not speak of in public, of sadness and heartbreak that never goes away – he speaks of all of this and more and beauty in the chaotic structure of emotions that does find its place, even the ones that aren’t beautiful. The ones that belong, nonetheless.

My favourite piece in this book is “Dear Stupid Straight People” – a poem, a list of instructions for the straight people on how to treat the ones who aren’t like them. It is brutal and perhaps most needed.

Wong’s poetry comes from so many places, and so many emotions. They take up so much room (as they should), and they merge with your emotions as well, and that’s difficult to contain. You see yourself in them, poem after poem. You get restless. You sigh. You get twitchy and fidgety. You sigh some more. You turn the page.

The Black Flamingo by Dean Atta

The Black Flamingo by Dean Atta Title: The Black Flamingo
Author: Dean Atta
Publisher: Hodder’s Children’s Books
ISBN: 978-1444948608
Genre: 368
Pages: Young Adult, LGBT Reads
Source: Publisher
Rating: 4/5

I got to know of this book as it was long-listed for the Jhalak Prize (which is a prize given to the book of the year by a writer of colour), for the year 2020. Luckily, I received a review copy from the good folks at Hachette India and I finished this book in one sitting. I think a lot had to do with the fact that the book is written by a queer person, so it became so relatable, and I often found myself either crying or smiling.

The Black Flamingo is the story of Michael – half-Jamaican, half-Greek -Cyprian boy trying to blend in with his identities and understand where does he truly belong. He is growing up in the UK and from an early age he is more interested in Barbies and singing than the conditioning of how boys should be in a patriarchal society. His mother supports him gently and with a lot of love when he comes out to her (while he is still at school). In all of this, there is his half-sister Anna, his best friend Daisy, and the bullies at school who make him realise who he truly is.

Once Michael goes to university, that he truly realises that he wants to perform in drag. He wants to do this with no labels, and with all fierceness. All he wants is to be The Black Flamingo, in a world of pink ones. This is the story of Michael. Of finding himself through the heartaches, the boys, the crushes, and finding the confidence to live in this world that has a long way to come around.

I think I related to this book at the core – of course by the virtue of being gay but also because it made me understand that sometimes you do not need any labels. You just need to be yourself. I loved the book references in it. I absolutely enjoyed the poetry-prose combination, and Michael’s poems in his notebook. I cried with joy when I saw people around him empathise. I cheered for him as he took stage. I dreamed of being in drag one day – in a red dress, with my fake boa, and in heels so high, I could perhaps touch the sky.

Fern Road by Angshu Dasgupta

Fern Road by Angshu Dasgupta Title: Fern Road
Author: Angshu Dasgupta
Publisher: Speaking Tiger Publishing Pvt Ltd
ISBN: 978-9389231922
Genre: Literary Fiction, Coming of Age
Pages: 216
Source: Publisher
Rating: 3/5

Here’s the thing about this book: I am glad it exists, I just wish it had been written with more nuance. I like the fact that it deals with confusion when it comes to orientation, and maybe even does a layer deeper, however, it somehow did not generate the empathy in me for the protagonist, Orko. I did relate to a lot of instances, but overall the book lost me in most places.

The book is set in 1980s’ Calcutta (absolutely love the setting) and chronicles a young boy’s journey through conflict, a lot of confusion, self-doubt, and acceptance. The book has shades of magic-realism and what goes on inside a boy’s head and those bits Dasgupta gets spot-on. Fern Road is also about Orko who thought he would grow-up to be like his mother, till she disappears. And then it dawns on him that boys grow up to be men and not women.

The writing is crisp and draws on so much nostalgia without force-feeding it to the reader. Dasgupta brings the 80’s to life quite brilliantly and yet the confusion, the pain of growing-up someone else and not what you imagined, and then to accept oneself as easily had me stumble through the novel for most part. I wanted to connect deeply with the book and when I didn’t I was disappointed, but perhaps not every book centred around identity will resonate with every reader. Some scenes though made me choke up – for instance when Orko wants earrings, or when he prays to Ma Lokkhi to turn him into a girl, or even when he wants a new name.

Fern Road could have been so much more according to me, but if you want to read a book about coming-of-age, and get perspectives on the “different” people one can be, then this is the book that makes an honest attempt at getting there, and for that you must read it. Maybe I am conflicted as of now, but I also know that I will reread it and who knows, I might even change my mind about the book.