theshinydiaries

The Discomfort of Evening

Winner of International Booker Prize 2020

Winner of the International Booker Prize 2020, this book written by the Dutch novelist Marieke Lucas Rijneveld and ingeniously translated by Michele Hutchison, is dark, gory and everything blasphemous.

It’s narrated by the ten year old girl Jas, who experiences the sudden catastrophic death of her brother. She now, has to, not only make peace with it , but also appear normal about it. This is in stark contrast to her entire family wherein every member is unravelling. Her strict christian parents and pubescent siblings, each develop dangerously self destructive behaviours that corrode the very existence of their fragile, deliberate, emotionally unavailable ties. Jas wears a red coat and never takes it off; lets toads live in her coat; develops chronic constipation which consumes most of her thoughts and becomes almost allegorical. Her mother’s attempts at preserving her own depression causes more damage to Jas in the form of delusions. Her patriarchal father is forever focussed on her poo and only commands or recites hymns. Her siblings are exploratory with their bodily growth and hormones. In short, the environment is suffocating, claustrophobic and deeply calamitous.

The author , who goes by the pronouns they/them; puts Death as the protagonist here. The faltering attempts of the family at grappling with Death, makes them emotionally dead. Not all of us can handle death of a loved one. This book is an unflinching, almost repugnant take on it’s varied ramifications on human beings.

The narration is at a languid pace. The events are stark; a lot of them include the “bum-hole”. The book also gets quite defiantly incestuous; which actually made me squirm. The writing can get tedious at places; however I’m sure, it’s not something you must have read before.

So, do I recommend the book? I stand divided in a discomforting silence.

~ JUST A GAY BOY. 😷

Burnt Sugar / Girl in White Cotton by Avni Doshi

Avni Doshi’s book, Longlisted for the Booker Prize 2020; is quite an uncomfortable read. It’s an uncensored narrative of our human psyche. There are moments in this book that can leave you bewildered, make you squirm! I haven’t read anything like this book; till so far.

The story is about a mother and daughter; Tara and Antara; and their constricted, contrived and conniving relationship. Tara is a full embodiment of a bohemian woman living life on her terms. For Tara, it’s always she who comes first; Antara is an afterthought. Antara lives a life of maternal abandonment and resentment. She grows into despising her mother, but later when Tara develops dementia; Antara is left with no choice but to take care of her mother and hence, confront all her demons.

The book is unabashedly despondent. The nuances of Tara’s dementia and Antara’s postpartum depression are deftly described. Antara’s truths which she keeps buried in her soul are unkind, treacherous and diabolical when seen from Tara’s perspective. This narrative which puts hate and oblivious duplicity as it’s protagonists; gives scope and dimensions to uncharted recesses of our human mind.

It’s so ironic, that my previous read was all about maternal love.

~ JUST A GAY BOY. 😮

How we fight for our lives by Saeed Jones

“Our mothers are why we are here.”

This memoir of a black, gay man growing up in Texas and Kentucky, is a moving parable of the unspoken love for his mother; as much as it is an ode to his trysts with finding himself and making peace with his sexuality.

Saeed Jones builds an immersive narrative about his adolescent years; which was often abound in confusion and angst. He brings to our knowledge how he used his sexuality as a weapon against himself. The umpteen hook ups with strangers; wherein sex is no longer about pleasure and orgasm; but about filling a vast void of pain and loneliness; is so telling and disturbingly resonant with what most gay guys go through (including me), irrespective of race, geography or ethnicity.

Second half of the book is all about his mother and his faltered, fractured relationship with her. Saeed describes that, despite his immense love for her; how he’s always found it difficult to paraphrase it and show it in action. The silence between him and his mother is deafening. The love difficult and demanding at times.

The book is poetic in it’s rendition. The emotional journey is so deftly articulated. It made me misty eyed for the most bit; but warmed my soul nonetheless.

~ JUST A GAY BOY. 🤗

Queenie

Easy breezy read but remains deeply impactful. Queenie tells the story of Queenie Jenkins, a 25-something Jamaican woman living in London and her trysts with breakup, hook ups, childhood trauma, alcohol, racism, and failing career. Queenie doesn’t seem to have anything going right for her. Her life is a summation of one wrong choice after another. The alacrity with which she seems to throw away her life and her body to random men, do nothing but make her traumas impossible, bleeding further into her soul. Her lack of self respect and self love that leads her into this rabbit hole of self sabotage until she hits rock bottom, is quite unnerving. Her gradual rise back is very real and un-heroic. During this process there are no drumrolls and it isn’t glossy and joyful. In fact, the path to recovery and healing is bumpy, painful and teary. Like it’s for any of us. We are all unconventional heroes like Queenie , we do wrong choices, suffer the consequences and then move towards redemption. The book felt quite personal to me. Cathartic at times. My mid twenties were a lot like Queenie’s. They were difficult times but I did write a new chapter eventually. Just like Queenie Jenkins!

Kudos to Candice Carty-Williams for telling an unapologetically moving rendition of a damaged black woman. We need more such stories. Real and full of grit.

Also is it just me or did anyone else notice the fact, that the book resembled a lot like Fleabag; in the portrayal of it’s lead characters?!

~ JUST A GAY BOY. 🤠

How are we handling the quarantine?

Needless to say these are difficult times. Unprecedented and unexpected. I never thought “viral” will take such a literal and frightening meaning in 2020. With the world in a lockdown and social distancing being the buzzword, it seems we are living out of an apocalyptic Hollywood movie!

I, particularly, haven’t taken to this quarantine situation in a very affirmative way. My brain is almost listless and I feel energy depleted. My anxiety is up and about and keeping me company all the time. I struggled with trying to deflect my thoughts to something more “positive”, everytime my mind went into a quandary; however, it only made me feel worse. So have I found a solution or do I have a fix for this? Sadly I haven’t and I don’t.

So what’s the point of writing this, if you are wondering. It’s just to say that it’s okay. It’s okay to be feeling terrible and hopeless, it’s okay to not feel anything. We needn’t feel pressurised to feel a particular way or have some agenda for this period ( social media is abuzz with just that). There’s no necessity to arrive on the other side of quarantine with a beach body or having mastered tons of skills and languages.

The priority during such a time should be our mental health. Let’s take care of ourselves in the most gentle way. Let’s be kind to our feelings and emotions now, more than ever. Let me remind you, our every thought is valid. Let’s just do what we can, to tide through this crisis. What have I been doing? Workouts and reading. Both calm me down to an extent.

Follow people on social media who bring you solace. Engage in conversations that provide warmth and validation. Do anything and everything that is bringing you relief. There is no right or wrong answer here. Each one of us is different, hence our response to the quarantine is going to be obviously different. Instead of offering solutions (guilty!) let’s just support one another, lift each other up, and be kind.

~ JUST A GAY BOY. 😑

The beekeeper of Aleppo

How do you portray hope and redemption in a story about refugee crisis? How do you not show the refugees as victims when in reality they truly are the victims of the world’s wrongdoings. How can you depict subtlety and art in the midst of bomb explosions and deaths? Christy Lefteri has deftly handled the topic of refugees by taking us on this utterly emotional journey through the characters of Nuri and Afra; and without making it a slob-fest.

The story captures the beauty of Aleppo in Syria, through the lives of Nuri, a beekeeper and his wife Afra. The desert is as gorgeous as a river, according to Nuri. The book romanticises the science of beekeeping and you literally fall in love with the honey bees. However, Aleppo falls prey to the devastating Syrian Civil War (still ongoing) and the city soon becomes a remnant of death, destruction and darkness. Nuri and Afra find themselves at the crossroads of despair and gloom. Christy traces their journey from being respectable Syrian citizens to disreputable, unworthy, unwanted refugees; as they escape Aleppo, traveling through Istanbul, Laros, Athens, to London.

To tell a story about refugees, one can get consumed by the rightful depravity of the situation to the extent of almost celebrating it. However, Christy never once, lets the depravity do the talking. The deeply fractured yet humane souls of Nuri and Afra make this story nuanced, emotionally articulate and sensorial.

Christy, born to Cypriot refugee parents in London, has volunteered at a refugee center in Athens and through her interactions and experiences with the people there, has penned this deeply moving story. Many people never find redemption through such a crisis. They are lost to the world. It’s unsettling to note, that despite all of us being exactly the same; few of us have to live through this hellish experience and the lifelong tag of being a “refugee”.

Grab this book. It comes highly recommended.

On a sidebar, the ongoing corona virus pandemic has rendered the entire human race helpless and exposed. The virus has jumped borders and seas and infected humans of all races and ethnicities. Should we still then, be bothered about these man-made borders?

~ JUST A GAY BOY. 😷

Milkman by Anna Burns

This book which won the “2018 Man Booker Prize for Fiction”, has been the most difficult book I have read till so far. It has taken me three weeks to finish it.

The characters in the book are unnamed. They live in an unnamed city, in an unnamed country, in an unnamed era. The main protagonist is this girl, ‘middle sister’, who’s narrating the story. She’s become a part of the rumour of she having a torrid affair with the much-married ‘Milkman’. The book is pretty much about this premise and how she’s navigating her life despite all the repercussions of the said rumour.

The book deals with issues such as sexual harassment, misogyny, patriarchy and terrorism which are so contemporary and relevant in today’s times. However the language of the narrative is essentially in passive voice, involving long sentences. I needed a thesaurus quite frequently.

The pace of the book is very slow. There are no so-called ‘twists and turns’. Plus the absence of any names in the story, make it a very laborious read.

I would recommend this book to all the literature students. And for the rest of you; read it if you want a true literary experience.

~ JUST A GAY BOY. 🤓

Nine perfect strangers

*** SPOILER ALERT ***

Another disappointing read; which comes as a surprise since it’s the same author who wrote the brilliant and engaging Big Little Lies (talk about pressure!). But let’s talk about this book. True to the title, nine strangers gather at this posh health retreat, which is being run by this impeccably intelligent woman, Masha, in a true dominatrix fashion. Each of the characters are dealing with various mental and physical issues and have come to this programme with the hope of finding their soul and hence heal their mind and body. However Masha, instead of using the usual wellness therapies, tries psychedelic therapy on these guests involving LSD, magic mushrooms and Ecstasy. What follows is an unstructured chaos with each of these guests trying to sort out their issues and others’ , through hallucinations essentially.

The issues of divorce, bereavement, body shaming, lack of self worth, midlife crisis, cosmetic surgery, catfishing , etc are dealt with in a very superficial manner. None of the characters feel truly messed up or damaged. It still feels as if, even their genuine problems have a privileged first world charm to it. After a laborious 450+ pages, the climax is sappy and predictable. Yawn!

Side bar: I have become intrigued about psychedelic therapy. Anyone know anyone?? 🤫

~ JUST A GAY BOY . 🤯

Loving my body

Loving my body has always been a challenge for me. The gay world doesn’t make the process easy. Our world, our apps, our media is filled with perfectly sculpted, chiseled bodies. Literally there’s no place for anyone who isn’t an Adonis! We aren’t very kind either, to guys who aren’t looking like greek gods. So growing up I dreamt of a body such as this and whilst doing so hated what and who my body was. I went through the entire rigmarole of gaining muscle. Body shamed me constantly. It was only during my trip to Greece last year, that I had a spiritual awakening. Through my tears, I formed a mind, body and soul connection. Since then I have been more at peace accepting my body for the way it is. I have come to love and respect my slender frame. Yes I do go to the gym; but my reason for going has changed. It’s for my fitness. I am no longer seeking “bulging biceps” and unattainable “six packs” body. I have a vision for my 2020 fitness goal and my fitspiration is me!

~ JUST A GAY BOY. 💪🏼

A woman is no man

Truth can be terrifying and disturbing. That’s why most of us bury our truths in the most subconscious parts of our brains and never ever acknowledge it’s blatant existence. But Etaf Rum does the unimaginable. She portrays the harsh, inhuman lives of Palestinian Arab women living in New York. Through the stories of the mother daughter duo, Isra and Deya, the principal protagonists, she describes a woman’s almost insignificant, inconsequential, secondary existence in the man’s world. The Arab women are supposed to have no voice, live their life pleasing the men in their lives and be baby factories literally. Domestic abuse and marital rape are so normal that the absence of it would be perplexing.

As I read the book, I wondered how different are the lives of Indian women? How are we as a nation different from Palestine in treating our women?

I hang my head in shame.

~ JUST A GAY BOY. 😞