Jo Grey
I know Suzuki is viewed as controversial and problematic by traditional Pure Land Buddhists who believe in the Pure Land as a sort of “heaven”, similar to many Christians, but I enjoyed the way he writes immensely. Suzuki argues that the Pure Land is “right here, and those who have eyes can see it around them. And Amida is not presiding over an ethereal paradise; his Pure Land is this defiled earth itself.”
I don't know where I fall on that spectrum of belief just yet, but what I can say is that this is the most concise, clear explanation of Jodo Shinshu I have ever read. It may help that Suzuki directly compares and contrasts aspects of Shin Buddhism with Christianity- as a recovering Catholic, I found this really helpful. I wish I had read Buddha of Infinite Light a year ago, instead of starting with River of Fire, River of Water (╥﹏╥)
I highly recommend Suzuki's writing to anyone who is trying to get a fuller picture of the Shin tradition as a whole. He does not shy away from controversy, and explains his take on Jodo Shinshu in a forthright and simple manner.
This was pure cotton candy fluff, and I didn't love the writing, but got very attached to the characters as they grew. Needed much better copy editing, and the dialogue was a bit goofy in some parts; this read like an unpolished fanfic in a lot of ways. Definitely an insanely slow burn, but a nice break from the more intense stuff I have been reading lately!
Cigarette Lemonade takes an unflinching look at two disillusioned twentysomethings who will not (cannot?) conform to the structure of American society. Dizzie, a desperate transgender woman, and Smoak, a hired gun, take a job moving drugs across state lines. The job goes well, until it doesn't.
The novella is a clear example of author Connor de Bruler flexing his literary muscles, but he manages to do so in the most understated way possible. His prose is sparse, with only the occasional flourish of metaphor. He demonstrates his mastery of the form with what he doesn't say, abandoning unnecessary descriptions of the main characters (we are left to imagine what they look like entirely). When he chooses to be descriptive, it is with visceral imagery of violence, and settings that seem to evoke loneliness and desperation.
Strikingly, although she is subject to bigoted scrutiny throughout the story, Dizzie's former name is never revealed, even when others call her by it. De Bruler gives us a transfeminine main character who has become hardened and capable by the necessity of her transition in less-than-progressive Southern areas, and it shows in every choice she makes. As crackdowns on trans individuals spread through the US, Dizzie is the unfortunate main character queer readers need. Her determination, toughness, and at times, poor judgment make her at once relatable and aspirational.
Reading Cigarette Lemonade was the perfect start to my summer. I hope the novella gets noticed, even studied for the way it deals with transgender characters.
“Why doesn't everyone long to rip a hole in the sky the way I do—to leave this shell of a world behind, to swim out into the starlight of infinite possibilities? To be free?”
Naomi Hughes' Starfire is surprisingly (and successfully) ambitious for a modern YA novel, packed with action, introspection, and so much heart. Seventeen-year-old Peregrine Kent is afflicted not only with a particular subset of OCD, but also by the sudden onset of cosmic dreams and a deep longing to see the sky beyond the barrier that surrounds his home planet. He begins a quest to find the source of his visions, accompanied by reserved submarine captain Z, his ultra-capable adopted sister Anthem, and their family dog. With mythical star dragons finding their way through the planet's shield, Per must work through his mental illness and unravel the secretive motivations of those around him.
Starfire reminded me why I enjoy YA; teen protagonists can experience so much with a fresh worldview that often is not obscured by the generalizations and emotional rigidity that accompanies adulthood. Hughes delivers a satisfyingly diverse story that contains the twists and turns of navigating OCD and family loyalty, with a delightful queer romance that doesn't overshadow the novel's plot. It was surprising to discover that Starfire's main character doesn't just experience harm OCD (a type of obsessive-compulsive-disorder in which vivid intrusive thoughts make a person feel as though they might cause harm to others), but also guides the reader gracefully through daily life with this illness. I have personally struggled with harm OCD, so discovering this type of representation in YA fiction was delightful. I wish I had read this story when I was seventeen.
Hughes is obviously a talented author, but a few things stood out to me during this read. There were a lot of similes, sometimes several on a page, and it was a bit jarring. Why does everything have to be compared to something else? Also, characters often dumped descriptions of others' features at times when no one would be paying attention to “dark bronze skin, wavy black hair that could star in shampoo commercials, and dark brown eyes”. If these descriptions had occurred a bit more gradually, the first half of this novel would feel a lot less like a wattpad fic. Finally: the use of sentence fragments. There were only a few, but they briefly ripped my grammar-loving attention from the characters and plot.
Overall, Starfire was a delight to read, and has become one of my staple YA recommendations. I sincerely wish there were more stories like this out there.
I don't know, I guess I just didn't get this one. I found it really strange and unsettling, with the most bizarre ending.
(DNF) I would have enjoyed this a lot more if it wasn't so full of torturous BICKERING between characters. Not every messed-up decision warrants six pages of argument
