Tag: #bookstagram

Assembly

A Black British woman whose family is from Jamaica, has had a good education and is now working as a financial executive in London who’s slated for a promotion. She has a white boyfriend whose family has an estate and has been bestowed with ancestral wealth. She is hesitant to attend the boyfriend’s parents’ anniversary party at their estate over the weekend. The boyfriend adores her and is excited to introduce her to his family. Now, from the outside, everything seems like a dream and the narrator is seemingly living the proverbial good life. Is she really?

Assembly is an internal monologue of the narrator as she goes about living her life. A life that appears perfect to the world, is in actuality, diametrically opposite to it. The narrator visualises herself and her life through the racial constructs of an apparently colourblind society only to find it hypocritical and dismissive of her struggles and lived experience. Colourism and chauvinism come disguised as diversity that beguilingly disregards her competence and contribution. Microaggressions become insidiously inherent part of her personal and professional relationships. Her existence always gets measured by her achievements and simultaneously the same achievements get scrutinised for their authenticity and credibility. The narrator is forever filtering and self editing her thoughts and actions leading to an unconscious reaction or an instinctual internal censoring. This habitual silencing results in extreme frustration, repressed emotions, distress, resentment causing alienation, emotional dysfunction and cognitive dissonance. 

Natasha Brown’s Assembly is a brave new voice in the world of literature that is trying to dismantle racism and colourism. The acerbic rhetoric feels like a whiplash at times. The brevity of the writing is no hindrance to the profundity each word provides to the central issue. Brown’s economy of language is a reflection on the stifling effects of racism on consciousness and conditioning. However, despite the meritocracy, I did find the rendition a tad flawed, especially when the narrator gets diagnosed with a disease. I couldn’t help but wonder, the necessity of that incident and also the intention of the author behind it. Was the disease introduced as a way to mollycoddle the readers into sympathising with the narrator and to align us with her complicity? Was it an easy way out for the author to refrain the readers from taking a stand against the narrator for the choices she never makes and for her perpetual rumination on society’s racism? Was Natasha Brown subtly illustrating the physical toll of suppressed anger and racial frustration? I know my opinion does appear controversial, but I wouldn’t have minded the narrator’s connivance, hesitancy to question and non confrontational stand, because she’s the victim of covert racism and that is something, that is always deemed speculative and unsubstantiated. So though we readers would have wanted the narrator to take a stand, to pacify our unsettled emotional core, we need to ask ourselves, if the narrator had a choice. And if she did have a choice, could she have executed it and at what cost? Hence, I wonder again, if Natasha Brown was deliberate in sugarcoating the narrator’s helpless reality. 

Nonetheless, keeping my nitpicking aside, I do strongly recommend Assembly. 

~ JUST A GAY BOY. 😐

Stag Dance

Torrey Peters is back with a brand new book after her phenomenally successful  genre bending debut, “Detransition, Baby”. Her debut work made her one of the best trans writers of our times and also got her many awards and nominations. Now, does this new book, follow its predecessor’s footsteps? Let’s find out.

Stag Dance is a collection of three short stories and a novella. There’s no theme that’s connecting the stories. They range from dystopia to old world, from rigid sexuality to fluid and questioning genders and sexualities, from morality to immoral obsessions, from functionally perverse to dysfunctionally obtuse narratives.

The story, Infect your friends and loved ones, set in a dystopian future, has two trans women, exploring their troubled and harmful relationship dynamics, through emotionally abusive codependency that’s morphed into a toxic, traumatic bond. They navigate the above entanglement in a world where humans have lost the ability to produce their own sex hormones after a pandemic and these and other trans women are obsessing over animal estrogens. In the story, The Chaser, the narrator is a boy sharing a boarding school room with another boy, Robbie, who’s effeminate mannerisms and curvy body gets the narrator infatuated with him. What follows is a sequence of events in which the narrator gets sexually intimate with Robbie multiple times and even convinces him to cross dress for him. Later he ignores Robbie and when Robbie confronts him about his problematic attitude, the narrator refuses to acknowledge it at first as he feels obligated to safeguard his puritanical masculinity which he thinks is being threatened by Robbie. Eventually he does understand his feelings for Robbie but that comes with a grotesque scene involving the butchering of an animal and a hormonally charged climax. The story, The Masker, involves a cross dresser guy, Krys, exploring his new found identity but soon finds himself being emotionally manipulated by an elder trans woman and another cross dresser called, The Masker. The story does touch upon issues of self determination and fetishisation of queer identities and the obstacles one faces with the gatekeepers of gender and sexuality. The scenes of physical violence and emotional abuse by the Masker were unnerving and can open a pandora’s box of the untold, unreported assaults and aggressions that are prevalent and pervasive in the queer and trans communities.

The titular novella, Stag Dance, was the weakest link. Set somewhere in the past, it’s a story of timber pirates. The leader of the pack, Daglish, is organising a stag dance, wherein few of these brawny, muscular men dress up as women for a night of drinking, dancing and debauchery. One of the beefy guys, Babe, fancies Daglish, while Daglish is already having a clandestine sexual relationship with another guy Lisen. The days leading upto the dance sees a rise in the sexual tensions between the trio. In the meantime, there occurs a slip up and betrayal from both Babe and Lisen respectively towards Daglish when they are assigned a task. As we approach the apogee of the novella, we find the three characters trying to decipher their ambivalent and ambiguous sexuality in this hyper masculine and chauvinistic setting. The novella is tedious, underwhelming and the usage of rural western American lexicon makes it dreary.

Stag Dance, the book, seems like a missed opportunity. I did say in the beginning that there wasn’t an obvious theme connecting the stories, but on examining carefully, all the stories carry the underlying subtext of shame and bullying. There are a lot of bullies in the book and they seem to have the most prominent voice. Rationality and nuance get lost in the overbearing attack by prejudice and stereotypes, which is what majorly happens in the real world too. Probably, Peters deliberately wanted to portray this dichotomy of existence between what is seen and unseen, felt and unfelt. Though the author’s intentions are brave and righteous, they get muddled in the irreverent and irrational script. I understand, it’s a tough act to follow something as groundbreaking as Detransition, Baby. While Detransition, Baby was a uniquely liberating singular voice that stood out in the queer and trans literature landscape; Stag Dance feels like a cacophony of many confusing and confining voices. It does come across as an experimental piece of writing, but was this risky experiment necessary?

~ JUST A GAY BOY. 🫣

We Do Not Part

📍South Korea 🇰🇷

When Han Kang writes you dissolve and absolve; you assimilate and disintegrate; you discombobulate, yet transcend and transform. She writes so that we can feel the pain; she writes so that we can be bruised; she writes so that we can be healed. Her literature is enigmatic; brimming with incomprehensible and incongruent complexities which when mulled over reverberates, retaliates and reveals its naïveté and nuance. We Do Not Part is a summation of Kang’s ingenuity and humility in harnessing language to create a story that is literally haunting and sublime in equal measure.

Kyungha is having a miserable time bracing the sweltering heat of Seoul. She is simultaneously questioning her life’s choices and purpose, whilst being a recluse and starving herself. She reminisces and contemplates the changing dynamics of her relationship with her friend Inseon, a former documentarian, who now resides in Jeju island working as a carpenter and having her own studio. As the blistering summer gives way to chilly winter, Kyungha receives a frantic call from Inseon who is now hospitalised in Seoul following an accident. When Kyungha goes to visit her, learns about her medical predicament and observes the gruesome treatment being carried out; Inseon requests her to go to her home in Jeju island to feed her bird who has now been without any food or water since Inseon’s admission, hence could die anytime. Kyungha reluctantly proceeds on this arduous journey to Jeju in the midst of a severe blizzard probably thinking that saving the bird is her purpose. The blizzard is so extreme and violent that travel and communication become a nightmare. As Kyungha trudges through snow covered lonesome and terrifying terrain, enveloped in biting cold and formidable darkness, she falls, gets hurt, loses consciousness, wonders about an impending frostbite, and finally reaches Inseon’s house, only to find the bird dead.

With the relentless snowstorm and an ominous tenebrosity, Kyungha tries to make sense of her onerous journey while feeling marooned and helpless. Suddenly she finds Inseon in the house and it appears to her as if Inseon had been here all the while. As she is examining the impossibility of the current moment, and the possibility of her death, and all this being a subconscious spectacle or an apparition trick being played by her dying mind; Inseon starts narrating her story, why Jeju is so close to her heart and why has she chosen to be here despite it being far away from the mainland. She then recounts the horrendous Jeju massacre of 1948 through newspaper articles and old photographs wherein 30000 islanders were killed. Inseon highlights her mother, Jeongsim’s fight for justice who pressurises the authorities for an investigation, mobilises the aggrieved communities together to start a movement for identifying the victims that were killed and buried. Through this exercise, her mother hoped to heal her own loss that she and her family endured during the massacre and expected closure to an ambivalent grief. 

The three protagonists are the most unassuming, ordinary women who are weak and apathetic in many mundane scenarios but assuming stoicism and steely grit in extraordinary circumstances. Kyungha’s unwavering determination to reach Inseon’s house as she wades through knee deep snow in a no mans land, is of epic proportions. Inseon through her craft and values wants people to know the anguish her family and the islanders at large suffered in the massacre. Inseon’s mother, who becomes a postmemory in the narrative, embodies vulnerability in all its glory. She shows how vulnerability is a strength to reckon with. She demonstrates perseverance in the most punitive of circumstances. But the beauty of Han Kang’s three women, is their willingness and ability to confront cataclysm and catastrophe singularly, hence bringing plurality to the multidimensional multiverse that is womanhood. There are two other unlikely characters in the book; snow and flame. For the greater part of the book, the sinister snow keeps the characters and the readers almost in a chokehold. It’s merciless, icy, unyielding that is meant to suffocate. Then there’s flame, who is trying to provide a respite from the foreboding, yet the shadows that it brings in its wake intermingle with the prevailing doom. 

We Do Not Part is a shapeshifter. Scorching, sultry Seoul shifts into arctic Jeju. The narrative voice keeps shifting from Kyungha and Inseon; the women themselves shift from torpidity to vitality, from aggression to acquiescence. The story shifts between life and death effortlessly. Han Kang begins the story languidly, suddenly making it breathless and claustrophobic and decelerates just for a moment before introducing us to the historical carnage that ripped apart people and a peninsula. She wants us to gasp, squirm, question and feel uncomfortable. This is literature that is porous to humanity’s evils, disregards pragmatism and polity, and intends to induce a paralysis of hope. 

The Jeju massacre started as an uprising on Jeju island in April 1948 till May 1949. In the aftermath of World War Two, the newly liberated Korean Peninsula was emerging from Japanese colonisation (1910-1945), and Koreans were determined to develop a unified nation. Three months after the Japanese were ousted, a new occupying force, the USA, arrived on Jeju. On Jeju, opposition to a divided Korea was strong. At the heart of the incident was widespread opposition to US supported election that would create a separate Korean government in the south, dividing it from the north. The US was concerned about Jeju becoming a “red island”.  The left wing groups were crushed, police brutality increased leading to a thirst of vengeance among police, military and people’s committees on both the left and the right. What followed was violence, deaths, displacement and destruction of some 300 villages. Some of Jeju’s most popular tourist attractions today were the site of civilian massacres. Ultimately, a south only government was formed, the Republic of Korea, headed by US backed President. The fallout of this was the Korean War from 1950-53 between North Korea and South Korea that ended up having 3 million civilian deaths and 2 million civilian casualties.

We Do Not Part is a necessity as it exposes a forgotten, rather undisclosed part of history. e. yaewon and Paige Aniyah Morris have done the herculean task of translating Kang’s intricate and devastating prose from Korean to English. History has always been written by people in power. Majority of the history that we have been made to know is essentially a history that is whitewashed, with little to no reference of the colonised people and the atrocities committed to them, and it’s a history that forever exonerates the colonisers. Han Kang has taken the reigns to enlighten us about her Korean history as it happened and is demanding answers. Her prose shows us how memory outlasts violence. Sometimes, literature is supposed to trigger, to shame and to call out the so called powerful for their inherent perfidiousness. Kang’s literature does that. 

~ JUST A GAY BOY. ✨

All The Sinners Bleed

Former FBI Agent, Titus Crown, has returned his hometown, Charon County in Virginia, to become its first Black Sheriff. In a county, that has sixty percent Black population, racial tensions simmer and white supremacists’ zealotry looms large. He often finds himself at crossroads of doing the right thing of upholding the law and protecting the lives and rights of the Black community whilst ensuring that no one under his jurisdiction, irrespective of their race gets mistreatment or preferential treatment. His judgement and authority are put to test when there occurs a school shooting, wherein a black boy, Latrell, shoots county’s beloved white teacher, Mr. Spearman in public. Latrell is soon shot at and killed by Titus’s deputies when they see him raging, and assume him to be out of control and threat to everyone. The investigations following this incident, lead Titus and his team to a graveyard where the bodies of seven Black and Brown teenagers are found to be buried. Further probing makes Titus speculate the connections between the gruesome murders of the children, Latrell and Mr. Spearman, while also discovering the involvement of another person, who he nicknames as ‘The Last Wolf’, and soon believes to be the principal orchestrator of the murders.

Apart from the murders of the children, the book also features killing of two other characters in the most grotesque, violent and disturbing manner. Titus is faced with the urgency and obligation of catching the serial killer while the county and its people start doubting his ability of doing his job satisfactorily and impartially. At the same time, he is burdened with his own internal monologue about his relationship with his girlfriend Darlene, his bond with his estranged brother Marquis and the real reason for him leaving the FBI. 

The plot is intriguing, the writing is engaging that keeps the readers hooked with the requisite twists and turns. However, things become tedious because of multiple subplots and umpteen inconsequential characters. The author seems to have lost his way through this complicated narrative of myriad happenings and fails to provide resolution to any of them. The climax is a letdown especially since it happens suddenly after the forever meandering on the innumerable murders and Titus’s never ending investigation. Also, the reveal of the murderer is tepid and their motive feels superfluous and incongruent with the brutality of the murders committed.

S A Cosby is a prolific Black writer and this book was my pick for Black History Month. He specialises in the ‘Southern Noir crime fiction’ genre and has received several awards for his writing. He has centred race and geopolitical issues in his work and All The Sinners Bleed, is no different. In this book too, racism remains the subtext. Through his titular character Titus, he takes the opportunity to educate and inform everyone how racism is present and still can be missed; how bigotry and fascism can disguise themselves as ignorance. Cosby’s authoritative Black voice lends gravitas to the forgotten Black History and the contemporary Black issues. If only he had also paid equal attention to the mystery that was supposed to be present in a murder mystery.

All The Sinners Bleed is a proverbial thriller that never had me thrilled. I was thrilled when it was finally over.

~ JUST A GAY BOY. 🕵🏽

Whale

📍 South Korea 🇰🇷 

Geumbok is an extraordinarily fierce and courageous woman who is set out to expand her life, to bring enormity in all its glory and forms into her life, so that she can regale in its obscenity. As a child, she sees a whale and gets enamoured by it. The whale becomes an inspiration for her to dream big, to pursue and achieve impossible things, especially things that are deemed undoable by a woman. She runs away from her small village, comes to the Wharf, meets the fishmonger with whom she starts a fish drying business. There she encounters Geokjeong, falls in love with him, marries him and later realises his stupidity and inherent violent tendencies. Catastrophes befall her in continuum that leads her to a nondescript village, Pyeongdae. Here, she becomes the talk of the town, builds a cafe, starts a brick making business and opens a movie theatre designed as a whale. She becomes rich, arrogant and doesn’t predict the unfortunate destiny that is awaiting her, which true be told, had always been encircling her.

Chunhui, is Geumbok’s mute daughter, forgotten by the mother and the people around her. It’s her enormous size that gets people’s attention but soon their interest wades away because of her inability to communicate and comprehend. But she does possess a magical ability to talk to elephants and Jumbo becomes her only confidante. She learns to make bricks, adores daisy fleabanes and forever wonders why the world is the way it is. She becomes a suspect in a disaster that destroys Pyeongdae, gets incarcerated, undergoes unimaginable torture in the prison and is released after many years. She goes back to the ramshackle city only to find it in ruins. She then goes on to lead an absolutely lonely, marooned life making bricks.

There are hoards of interesting characters in the book like the one eyed woman, the old crone, the twins, Mun, Ladybug etc who bring their own whimsy, quirks and terror to the narrative. Pathos and grief await at every turn for all of these characters. Despondency and mayhem form the hallmarks of the plot. However, despite the grotesque events that make you squirm and your skin crawl, the ingenuity of the writing is such that it succeeds in keeping you hooked. 

Whale, shortlisted for the International Booker Prize 2023, is a story like no other. Even if I try my best, I wouldn’t be able to classify its genre or its style. To say it is unique would be a literary disservice. It’s a story that has history, folklore, magical realism, dark humour and feminism. The narrative for two thirds of the book is fast paced while the remaining third assumes a relaxed tone. The words are full of vivid imagery. They convey innocence, violence, hatred, longing, iniquity and doom. At the same time they also bring about revulsion by depicting bodily fluids, diseases and putrefaction. Sex finds liberal mention through the pages and the author doesn’t shy away from being graphic, problematic and harsh about it.

Geumbok’s character is one that is going to stay with me for a long time. She is multilayered, multifaceted and multitalented. She’s sexual and owns her sexuality. She resists every patriarchal norm and challenges everyone’s, including the readers, innate prejudices and chauvinism through her beguilingly subtle and brutally grandiose ways. She represents liberality and makes us question stereotypes. She’s selfish in her wants, selfless about her prowess. She’s flawed, witty, promiscuous, odious,mysterious and extremely narcissistic. There’s no one like Geumbok.

Though Geumbok grabs our attention, Chunhui asserts her presence with her silence. In silence, she finds her strength too. She epitomises resilience and perseverance. Often times, characters like Chunhui dont find mention in books and media, let alone be the protagonist, but in this book, the author has projected the boredom and mundanity of Chunhui to be purposeful leading to an awe inspiring but lugubrious climax. 

The author, Cheon Myeong-kwan, is a South Korean author, screenwriter and film director. This book has been translated into English by Chi-Young Kim who has done an incredible job in translating this phenomenal piece of Korean literature. Whale comes across as an astonishing feminist literature where women drive the story and men play second fiddle to them. Feminism, in this book doesn’t make men hapless and victimised, rather it asserts itself as being deliberately provocative and intentional. There’s three more things that enrapture the narrative; fishes and their fishy smell, bricks and daisy fleabanes.

Read Whale. Today!

~ JUST A GAY BOY. 🤓

Being Queer and Somali: LGBT Somalis at Home and Abroad 

📍 Somalia 🇸🇴 

Somalia is the easternmost country in Africa and located in the Horn of Africa. Mogadishu is the capital and largest city. Around 85% of Somalia’s residents are ethnic Somalis; and Somali is the primary language. The country has been ravaged by a civil war that started in the 1980s as a resistance to the military junta. There is an ongoing phase of the civil war which is concentrated in southern and central Somalia that began in January 2009. Al-Shabaab, a militant terrorist organisation who have pledged allegiance to al-Qaeda is actively involved in the war and despite the growing challenges, still controls large swathes of territory in southern Somalia. LGBTQ people in Somalia face severe adversity and consensual same sex sexual activity is illegal for men and women. In areas controlled by al-Shabaab and in Jubaland, capital punishment is frequently executed.

Afdhere Jama is a Somali writer and filmmaker, born and raised in Somalia who moved to America as a teenager. Jama identifies as queer and Muslim. He has written six books till date.

Now, who would have thought about Queer Somalis? Hardly any! Nobody thinks about queer people in Africa and definitely not in a Muslim majority country like Somalia. And that’s where, the author, through this book, not only has shattered our preconceived notions and ill informed opinions and prejudices, but also has shown that, queer Somalis are living their lives unapologetically. This book is a testament to the fact that LGBT individuals in Somalia despite being in a hostile environment have had the courage to navigate the precarious circumstances to thrive, some doing it cautiously in the country, others having escaped to other countries and being advocates for the diaspora queer Somalis and also for those back home. 

The book starts with the author giving us a comprehensive overview of the country, culture, history, geography and the various tribes with their languages and dialects. He has also provided an essay on what it means to be queer, as a Muslim and as a Somali. He has given us a snapshot on the bullying faced by LGBT people in the country and the everyday slangs that are used for them. Through the book, he has also explained the origins, the continuity and the consequences of the civil war. With this background, he introduces us to a diverse and interesting plethora of LGBT Somalis who he has interviewed for the book. These individuals, resplendent in their own uniqueness, tell their stories of identity, struggle, escape, vulnerability, grief and fear; but forever standing tall and constantly reminding us readers of their supreme fortitude, resilience and charisma. 

The stories span from Mogadishu to cities and towns in Somalia, and to cities across the world such as Paris, London, Toronto, Oslo, Dubai, Jeddah, Cape Town, Nairobi, Washington, Atlanta and even our very own Mumbai. The Mumbai story features a Somali gay guy Kamal, working as a high profile escort in the city, living the good life who decides to quit the profession in the future and pursue his career in IT. Many stories about individuals fleeing the country as a refugee and/or illegal immigrant are gut wrenching for the sheer amount of brutality that they experience. But what’s even more astonishing is their ability to reconcile with their traumas, not dwelling in them and ultimately choosing to live, dream and hope. 

Every story is a gem but the ones that touched me deeply are as follows, described in a nutshell. Badal from Bosaaso comes out to his family after being married, is forced to flee to Mogadishu and establishes a relationship with a married man, Mubarak. The story of a labeeb, (a person who is neither a boy nor a girl; as said by the narrator Abshir), whose gender remains ambiguous, amongst the Sufis in the city of Bardera, is fascinating to say the least. Nuuroow’s a gay boy living in the town of Baraawe; a town controlled by al-Shabaab. Despite the overbearing presence of radicalism and homophobia, Nuuroow and his friends indulge in clandestine gay parties dancing to Bollywood music and living life in debauchery and defiance. Shamsa and Isfahan are a lesbian couple from Hargeisa, Somaliland, who had lived together in Rome, and are back in Hargeisa living in a seven bedroom house with four other lesbian couples. Rahma’s from Geneva, Switzerland, who has finished her medical school and waiting to be a gynaecologist; is a fierce feminist educating the Somali community on the horrible practice of FGM (Female Genital Mutilation); loves her vagina and is looking forward to marrying her girlfriend. Hamdi, a Somali trans woman, from Waqooyi in Northern Somalia, ran away from an abusive gay relationship to Mogadishu, then to a Kenyan refugee camp in Mombasa, finally emigrating to Seattle and has undergone gender reassignment surgery. She’s now a nurse in the US and happily married to a Somali man. Dadirow’s a black, muscular, gay man; is HIV positive, who experienced a traumatic childhood due to an abusive father, escaped to Ethiopia before coming to the US. Now he leads a disciplined life, loving and respecting his body, things that never occurred to him during his recalcitrant and reckless years. 

February is LGBTQ History Month. I am ecstatic to have read this book during this month. World over when LGBTQ individuals are being mistreated, misunderstood, misrepresented, maligned and marginalised, the Somalis are showing us how to survive these odds and make your voice heard. Through this book and their glorious existence, they are paving the way for so many of us to emulate and hence discover ourselves. Afdhere Jama, through his stellar writing, interviewing and compassion, has shown how to portray diversity and inclusivity. He has represented gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people from Somalia and the Somalian diaspora with equity, dignity and integrity. The book is a masterclass in writing and representation which when done rightfully, makes the unseen seen and the unheard heard. 

Read this book to be inspired, read it to be humbled; every step of the way. 

~ JUST A GAY BOY. 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

The Restaurant of Lost Recipes

📍 Kyoto, Japan 🇯🇵 

In Kyoto’s Shomen-dori, in a nondescript building, lies a quaint restaurant, Kamogawa Diner. Run by the chef Nagare Kamogawa, it specialises in Kyoto cuisine. The food is wholesome and customer satisfaction is of paramount importance to the chef. But there’s something unique about this restaurant and it isn’t its no-frills food. The restaurant also doubles up a food detective agency, which is handled by Nagare’s daughter, Koishi.

People come to Kamogawa Diner not just to relish its simple yet delectable fare, but also in search of lost recipes. Recipes that have been forgotten through the sands of time but its flavour has lingered in their souls forever. Recipes that bring back emotional memories; recipes that remind people of their connections and relationships; recipes that rekindle grief, gratitude and gaiety; and recipes that evoke visceral and spiritual sensations. 

Anybody who comes to the diner for their food detective services is served a set menu by Nagare, followed by Koishi’s meticulous inquiry into the lost recipe that includes its origins, flavours and taste. The discussion often gets emotionally intimate and intense and segues into stories associated with the dish and the impact it has had on the person concerned. After two weeks, when the person comes back, Nagare whips up the exact same recipe which always leaves the guest/s spellbound. He then describes the ways in which he procured the recipe, through his uniquely inventive and intuitive tricks backed by his profound knowledge of Japanese cuisine. 

There are six stories in the book each dedicated to a particular dish. The ones that stood out to me were the following. Olympian Kyosuke Kitano, reminisces about his estranged dad’s nori-ben. Nagare’s version floods him with memories, prompting him to relook at the relationship in a new light. Kana Takeda is a single mother who wants the absolute best for her son, Yusuke. When her son keeps craving for her father’s hamburger steak, with whom she has had no contact in years, she is forced to take Nagare’s help. When she eats Nagare’s hamburger steak, she is reminded of familiar flavours and familial bonds. This experience forces her to forgive herself for events that happened outside of her control and simultaneously makes her confront her ego. Yoshie and Masayuki Sakamoto are struggling to grapple with the loss of their son. They request Nagare a particular Christmas cake to be made that their son loved, but they themselves are unable to remember its taste. Nagare jumps through hoops to make the impossible possible and presents them the cake which brings them a step closer to securing closure and processing their grief.

The Restaurant of Lost Recipes, is a feel good, cozy fiction and is the second part in the series. It’s not necessary to have read the first part, The Kamogawa Food Detectives, to read this one. The book is replete with scrumptious, luscious Kyoto dishes that are described punctiliously, akin to a culinary textbook. The author, Hisashi Kashiwai’s elaborate descriptions of the ingredients, textures, flavours and aromas are bound to make any reader salivate. Tofu, mushrooms, sushi, sashimi, broths, eel, mackerel, sardines, distinct Japanese herbs and the various techniques of cooking are elucidated with great detail in the book. You can literally smell the tantalising scents of dashi and miso wafting through the pages of the book. More importantly, the book becomes a melting pot of unpleasant, unresolved human emotions often brimming at the surface, needing just that extra stirring to achieve some sort of resolution. Since millennia, food has been a source to connect people and bring them together. It warms my heart to note how simplistically the author has achieved this feat in the book. 

The Restaurant of Lost Recipes is appetising till the last page. It feels moreish. So, are you ready to indulge? 

~ JUST A GAY BOY. 🍣🍱🍜

We’ll prescribe you a cat

📍 Kyoto, Japan 🇯🇵 

Located in one of the winding lanes of Kyoto, with an address as convoluted and discombobulating as, “East of Takoyakushi Street, south of Tominokoji Street, west of Rokkaku Street, north of Fuyacho Street, Nakagyō Ward, Kyoto”, lies a nondescript, difficult to spot, wellness clinic called, Nakagyō Kokoro Clinic for the Soul, run by Dr Nikké and nurse Chitose. People come here seeking help thinking it’s a mental health clinic and also having heard incredible healing stories, only to find Dr Nikké prescribing a cat (albeit a different cat for every patient) for any and all of their problems. Eccentric much?

The book has five chapters; Bee, Margot, Koyuki, Tank and Tangerine, and Mimita, named after the cat/s that have been prescribed. There’s a line drawing illustrating the cat at the beginning of every chapter. There are a couple of stories that stood out to me. The first is Bee. Shuta Kagawa, is unhappy with his monotonous job wherein his inability to perform the tasks, causes his manager to admonish and humiliate him incessantly. This translates to his personal life as well, having an untidy house and no social connections. On getting Bee, for the first time he starts to tidy up his place, to prevent the cat from swallowing harmful objects. Bee also becomes the reason for him losing his job, that leads him to finding a new job, which he actually starts liking and even the people he works with. Unknowingly Bee becomes instrumental in mediating this long overdue change in Shuta’s life, a change he was scared to seek and commit to, but done ever so organically by a cat. 

The second is Koyuki. Megumi Minamida, is having trouble dealing with her ten year old daughter, Aoba. She constantly criticises and reprimands her, gets annoyed with anything and everything that Aoba says. Aoba is having issues at her school which Megumi dismisses as being trivial and instead wonders if she is depressed. She comes to the clinic to seek therapy for Aoba and Dr Nikké hands out a kitten. Suddenly, Megumi is transported back to her childhood, where she too had rescued a kitten but was never allowed to keep it by her mother. Megumi’s mother constantly rebuked her and never let her have any agency. Inadvertently, the kitten becomes a medium for Megumi to address her repressed emotions, making her reflect on her past traumas, that paves a way for her to assuage her daughter’s concerns and forge a new improved relationship.

As you can see, the stories are simple and have been simplistically told. They tackle complex human issues and interactions without being presumptuous and patronising. A special mention of the character nurse Chitose, whose oddities are in a league of their own. 

The premise of a doctor prescribing a cat can seem bewilderingly outlandish but somehow manages to come across as heartwarming. Cats become the unlikely catalysts to troubled, irritated, grief stricken human beings in coming to terms with their choices and behaviours which in turn makes them contemplate on the same. Truth be told, cats in the book, don’t do anything magical. They just stare, eat and sleep; but for some unexplainable reason, they melt the stubborn hearts of the humans they have been prescribed to, ultimately bringing relief, joy and solace. 

We’ll prescribe you a cat, is a cozy fiction, a genre which is getting highly popular in Japanese literature. The author, Syou Ishida, is Kyoto born and adores her cats. The book has been translated from the Japanese by E Madison Shimoda. The writing is easy, considerate and brings a realm of calm upon the reader. It is quintessentially Japanese in its ethos and presentation. Kyoto comes alive with its quirks and charms through the words of Syou Ishida. However, at the heart of the book is the universal language of acceptance, bonding and belongingness. There isn’t any sermonising, just quiet realisations and reassurances that lift the collective human consciousness. 

This is a book that will brighten a dull day. The cats are luscious, fluffy and mysterious. I have always been a dog person, but Syou Ishida might have just converted me! 

(Ps. Be ready to meet more cats in, “We’ll prescribe you another cat” releasing later this year.)

~ JUST A GAY BOY. 😺😻

Greek Lessons

📍 South Korea 🇰🇷 

A woman is losing her ability to speak, for the second time in her life. A man is losing his vision. He is a teacher taking evening classes of Ancient Greek in Seoul. She is his student, wanting to learn a new language, hoping that, it would somehow help her speak. 

The woman, whose story is narrated in the third person, is bereaving her mother and is simultaneously fighting for the custody of her son. She feels devastated and defeated by death and separation. She overflows with rage and rancour that consume her. She is subsumed with an overwhelming sense of love which at the moment seems uncertain and unwanted even. The man, who is narrating his own story, is trying his best to acclimatise himself to Seoul after having moved from Germany. His anguish over his past strained relationships, strains his ability to adjust to his present situation. His loneliness, his longing for a city and people that are no longer present become the fodder for his lamentations on the pathological darkness that is enveloping him slowly and steadily. Through the class, the man and the woman, come together, to provide respite to their troubled yet kindred souls by being that requisite restrained sense to each other’s losing sensibilities.

Han Kang, is a South Korean writer, who was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2024, a first for an Asian woman and for a Korean. Her other book, The Vegetarian, became the first Korean language novel to win the International Booker Prize in 2016. This book, has been translated by Deborah Smith and Emily Yae Won.

Greek Lessons, is a master storytelling on grief and its flagrant consequences. The book is seeped in all kinds of grief and loss, portrayed at various levels of intensity, conscientiously. This subtextual presence makes it ominous and omnipresent. This book also meanders on the characters’ existentialism, romanticising the desperation and the futility of it. The author has depicted Seoul to be this unwanted and cold third character, that is failing to provide warmth to its people. Han Kang’s words are measured, meticulous and mundane. Language drives the pathos, at times its dissolution drives the sentiment. Words are metaphorical, full of palpable melancholy. This is a piece of literature that is deliberate and visceral, but beautiful nonetheless.

~ JUST A GAY BOY. 🌺

Orbital

Six astronauts are inside the International Space Station; Anton, Chie, Nell, Pietro, Roman and Shaun. The book is a snapshot of a day in the lives of the astronauts as they orbit the earth 16 times during the earthly 24 hours. They grapple with a sunrise every 90 minutes which remains juxtaposed against the indescribable ethereal beauty of the planet Earth. On this particular day, there is a catastrophic typhoon that is approaching the Philippines whose path the astronauts are feverishly trying to follow as they zoom in and out of their orbital planes. The typhoon and the anticipated destruction that it would leave in its wake often becomes a vague segue and at times literature’s metaphorical liberty to delve into the internal cosmos of the individual astronauts while they themselves remain scattered in the grand cosmos of all. 

The book meticulously describes the space and how space stations orbit our planet without using any technical jargon. Earth in all its glory comes alive in the words of the author and simultaneously she transports us into the world of death and grief as one of the astronauts bemoans her mother’s death while the other, a dying relationship. Peering onto the earth, moving through the 16 orbits, the book provides a lingering, at times fleeting, but mostly a longing look at all the continents from the Americas to Antarctica, then getting more granular and microscopic as it describes the countries it crosses, all the lightness and darkness in the innumerable cities of these countries on our planet as they respond to the earthly sunrise and sunset which when observed whilst being suspended from a spacecraft can appear to be elliptically elegiac.

Samantha Harvey’s Orbital, winner of the 2024 Booker Prize, is a piece of literature that is here to let us know that books need not always be having a proverbial plot and a protagonist. Sometimes literature at its finest can be discombobulating, it can be nebulous, it can be meandering, but at the same time be a yardstick for a soulful sojourn across human lives and emotions which are unique, malleable, flawed and fascinating. Harvey’s ingenious writing can seem deceptively simple but every word of every sentence represents the complexities of the human existence when ironically the existence is now 250 miles away from the very planet that makes us human. This is a book that will stay with you for its indecipherable melancholy and literary gravitas as we continue to orbit the planes of living and existing. 

~ JUST A GAY BOY. 🛰️🌏🌎🌍