I was wary about this book from the moment I heard about it and wouldn't have read it if it wasn't this month's pick for my book club. I wish I trusted my gut and didn't read it.
From the very beginning something — and I still can't quite name what — made me uncomfortable. There is something in the way it's written that puts me on edge. By the end I just felt heavy, tired and sad.
To start, this book carries a world of under representation on its back. It is set in Nigeria, a country I am not from and know little about, and I suspect many readers are in the same boat. This book falls into the negative stereotypes I've heard about Nigeria. Maybe it's true — I wouldn't know — but the way the country and its people come across made me uncomfortable. It seemed to portray a country of emotionally stilted and repressed people, who use corporal punishment, cheat on each other, and have strict gender roles and expectations. I don't know the truth but I doubt every single person in the country is like that and with so little media showing the positives of Nigeria this book just seems almost harmful to me. Growing up all my friends with Nigerian fathers — a monumental number of three —had them cheat and abandon their family and the fact that I can't remember one man in this book who was completely faithful to their wife just feeds into this stereotype, whether or not there is truth in it.
There is also a surprising — to me — amount of sex in this book for a relatively short book. And while that isn't inherently a problem the way the sex is depicted is, in my opinion. Much of the sex seems to dance the line of sexual assault. At the very least there is dubious consent in almost all of the scenes containing sex and piss poor communication. Then there's the incest of it all that just seems like such a strange choice by the author. They could have been neighbours, school friends, even non related family and I don't understand the choices to make them first cousins.
For a book with a character's name in the title very little is actually about said character. Honestly I have very little grasp on who Vivek is. A massive part of his life, and identity was hidden from the audience until the very end when the character themself is only talked about. And I think that is where the bulk of my despair lies. A book about a young queer person in an environment so full of homophobia that just having long hair gets your masculinity and manhood questioned living with mental illness and dying in a stupid accident. Is this all queers get? I don't think this book was written for me. I don't have to read about a world that is hateful and cruel and random, I live in that world. I don't need another book where the gays die before they can live happy, truthful, fulfilling lives. But these are the books that get critical acclaim. Books where marginalised people get to suffer.
Reading this I can't help thinking about the conversation about the number of books about slavery, the civil rights movement, and racism there are and how few books depict black people being happy. For widespread critical acceptance we have to suffer and not confront those who benefit and have a hand in keeping us down. If that is the case I don't want acclaim or acceptance from the literary landscape. Give me frivolity where black and gay people get to be mermaids and fairies and heroes and lovers. My heart is too heavy already for tales of grief.
by NickolaBrinx