Chihaya is pretentious in the same way I am pretentious, talks about her mental illness the way I talk about mine in my own journals. The idea of her having pre-conceived narratives for herself and her life’s trajectory hit incredibly close to home. Which I also understand is what this memoir is about undoing - a lesson I also need to hear. It’s a slow and dense read with lots of literary analysis but it rings true and feels true.
I wanted to buy and read this after hearing how it’s one of, if not THE most challenged book in the US right now. And hot girls read banned books!!!!!! It was a very wonderful lil graphic memoir, definitely one of the best queer memoirs I’ve read. Neopronouns are something that I still struggle with (mostly because I don’t know anyone who uses them, so I never have practice with them) and Kobabe’s memoir really does a beautiful job showing thought processes behind choosing to use neopronouns, as well as the journey to build confidence to ask to use them. I want to be more knowledgeable about gender identity and neopronouns and this is really a great lil toe-dip into the pool of information and experiences out there!
I loved the concept of this one more than the execution. There’s this thing Ellen Hopkins does, both here and in the other book I’ve read by her, where her word choice can get so juvenile that it undermines the heavy narrative (like using the word “weiner” in a scene depicting the rape of a child). I think the ending was a cop out, and that the epilogue felt cheesy. Actually most of it felt cheesy. I wanted to like this one more than I did - the second person POV and the interludes narrated by violence were so interesting conceptually, but it just felt so flat.
Laurie Halse Anderson writes such heavy hitters oh my gOd. This was a triggering book, but ultimately a very hopeful one. It is hard watching someone fall apart like this & hard to be in the head of someone falling apart like this but I think what Laurie Halse Anderson does in books like this one or Speak is really interesting - we watch the entire breakdown in gruesome detail, but the recovery is left in ambiguity. We build our own happy endings, y’know?
The vibes were very cinematic - when I saw people comparing it to Daisy Jones & The Six I was very confused because on the surface it doesn’t seem like they have much in common but between the DRAMA and the documentary transcript interludes, I can definitely see it. I wish the ending had been drawn out a little more, or played up earlier on. It just felt a lil abrupt. But if you’re into a high-stakes dramatic limited series on Netflix, The Favorites could be the book for you