
This book definitely felt like every issue, identity, orientation crammed into one story. The story was great and important. Sometimes the other stuff felt like too much. It captures well the claustrophobic feeling of the pandemic and the 2020 election, but it's even better at exploring relationships and grief.
This fell into the category of “books that make so many sweeping statements about the way things are that I can't fully believe they are correct.” I did read it 10 years south from its publication date, but still. There were some interesting insights, but overall it was just too wide-ranging for my taste.
This was maybe a 3.5 or 3.75 for me. The framing felt a little forced–was it a memoir, was it a piece of reporting, was it writing about race or just about people's hard lives? I think if she had really wanted to write about the white bonus, she could have focused more directly on that and had a more effective book, but what do I know! It just felt like this one was trying to do too much and not really succeeding fully at any of it.
This was entertaining, but not at all what I was expecting. I actually am not sure what I was expecting, except maybe a classic gay novel of San Francisco. Most of the characters are straight, and the way the gay characters are written about felt dated. The short (a page or two) “chapters” made it hard to keep track of everything and everyone, and there are a lot of main characters, which makes it a bit harder feel that they are more than just basic outlines of a character. There are definitely lots of funny parts (my favorite: Seedy guy at bar, “What's your sign?” Woman, “Do not disturb.”