kaberett: A drawing of a black woman holding her right hand, minus a ring finger, in front of her face. "Oh, that. I cut it  off." (molly - cut it off)
[personal profile] kaberett
This came into my possession via the latest Humble Ebook Bundle, and I am so glad it did. This is how glad I am: I am about two-thirds of the way through it and I can't wait to finish before I tell you all how good it is.

The protagonist, Hanna, is sixteen, manic depressive (and explicitly, canonically prefers that descriptor to "bipolar", Because Reasons), and Finnish-"island girl" (Hawaiian?), raised (for most of her life) in Dallas. She describes herself as biracial and bicultural, and she's bilingual in English and Finnish - and the codeswitching is genuinely plausibly represented.

The dude she ends up hanging around with a lot is the same age, Latino, and bilingual in Spanish and English - again, really nicely represented.

The story takes place in creepy smalltown Texas. It's sub/urban fantasy and abusive parents and a critique of the medical-industrial complex and teenagers having (complicated, not always happy) sex lives all tied up in tight, funny monster-killing brilliance. It's lovely.

Content notes. )
ext_939: Sheep wearing an eyepatch (skywardprodigal Cog Flowers)
[identity profile] spiralsheep.livejournal.com
13. The Young Inferno by John Agard and Satoshi Kitamura is a verse retelling of Dante's Inferno embedded in a picture book. I liked Kitamura's stark, black and white, art style but in the art-as-storytelling stakes it seemed to me to lack variety. It also clashed with one of the text's spelled out messages: "My teacher said, 'You've got a point. Quite right. / It just shows that neither beast nor man / can be divided into black and white.' " Except this is a black and white book in several senses. Agard's verse text didn't work for me as either narrative or poetry. (Note to self: don't read retellings of Christian morality stories unless they're specifically subversive in some way.) However, I'm probably about as far from the target audience of hoodie-clad schoolboys as it's possible to be so who cares about my opinion anyway? I just hope this isn't picked up from the teen, graphic novel, section of the library by a reluctant reader who is consequently discouraged further. Agard writes good poetry but this isn't it. Kitamura's first and second illustrations are both interesting as art, especially the way Our Hero is represented as a negative (in the photographic sense) of himself, but the only illustration which wholly won me over is the fossil landscape in illo 4.

14. Too Black, Too Strong by Benjamin Zephaniah is an extremely powerful collection of individually skillful and soulful poems. Ben is one of the most humane people I've met and it shows through in every word of his work. Most people know him as a Rastafarian lyricist who wrote that "funny" poem about turkeys and Christmas, and maybe as that political poet who refused to accept the Order of the British Empire he was awarded, or that black British man who was bereaved of a family member by police violence (although that describes too many people), but his work is so much more: witty, political, memorial, deeply spiritual, widely literary, and linguistically sophisticated. There are several example poems at my dw journal.

15. Fiere* by Jackie Kay is her latest, 2011, poetry collection. I've loved Kay's writing since the first time I encountered it, years ago. Amongst other forms, she's an extremely accomplished poet in both Scots** and English. Kay's poems aren't generally confessional (in the strictest literary sense of that word) but they do contain enough autobiography that I feel some minimum background aids understanding, and that's provided in the brief blurb on the back. Kay is multiracial, her mother was a Scottish Highlander and her father was a Nigerian Igbo. She was born in Edinburgh and raised by white Scottish adoptive parents. There are two example poems, the ecstasy and the agony of human relationships, at my dw journal.

* "fiere", Scots, meaning "companion/friend/equal"
** Scots, which is primarily related to English, not Scottish Gaelic which is a different language.

Tags: women writers, african-caribbean, black british, britain, british, british-african-caribbean, caribbean, black scottish, scottish, guyanese, poetry, japanese, biracial, multiracial, children's books, sf/fantasy, fiction, guyanese-british, igbo, young adult
gingicat: (geeky - library)
[personal profile] gingicat
I bought this book because I heard Ms. Min speaking about it on NPR:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=125682489

This book follows the life of Pearl S. Buck, white author of The Good Earth, through the eyes of a life-long Chinese friend. This friend is fictional, based upon several people in Ms. Buck's life.

The narrator is definitely a self-insert character, but *not* a Mary Sue. She is, first and foremost, the person who believes that Pearl is as Chinese as she herself is.

Ms. Min grew up during the Cultural Revolution, and her deep bitterness at how Mao Tse-Tung and Madame Mao treated Pearl Buck and many other people beloved to the narrator is very evident. Nothing is whitewashed.

One thing I found interesting: unlike the characters in The Kitchen God's Wife by Amy Tan, no-one in this book mentions foot-binding. It is unclear whether this is supposed to be because of the influence of Pearl's Christian missionary background, or whether the author, having no experience with it, simply left it out.

I liked the book. I liked it a lot. The images in it have stayed with me, and will for a long time. Apologies for the disorganized review.
sanguinity: woodcut by M.C. Escher, "Snakes" (Default)
[personal profile] sanguinity
12. Cynthia Leitich Smith, Rain Is Not My Indian Name.

This one threw me for a loop: Rain is the first Native character I have ever pinged recognition on. (Did I mention ever? Ever.) Sometimes mixed characters ping for me, and sometimes lighty characters ping, but those characters have never been Native before. And yes, that matters.

For the record, Rain is nothing like me in important ways: she's enrolled in her mother's tribe, and culturally connected to her mother's tribe, too. However, like me, she is Native-white mixed blood, white-looking (in fact, her physical description almost precisely matches mine), and culturally disconnected from her father's tribe (as is her father and his mother before him). Which means that any number of times during this book something would happen and I'd freeze in recognition: "Yes, it's like that. It's exactly like that." And then I'd have to shut the book for a minute while I let the emotional whipsnap settle. But only a minute, because there was more book to read.

("Emotional whipsnap" is a highly sanitized term. But I'm not going there in this post.)

The elements that I pinged on are significant parts of Rain's characterization, but fairly minor parts of the story -- by no means is this a problem novel about being a lighty -- but my reactions to those absolutely dominated all my other reactions. Even if this book was utter crap in all other ways, it'd still be getting a special place on my shelf. Like I said, these things matter.

Fortunately, this book is not utter crap. In fact, I suspect that it's probably a pretty good book, even for people who aren't me. Much of the plotline is about recovering from grief, and Smith nails that: how bored you get of the pain, long before the pain is done with you; how it offsets your life several months from those who weren't experiencing that grief; how it calcifies around you and exhausts you, creating a barrier between you and others that has to be surmounted again and again, if you choose to surmount it at all.

Oh, and the thing with Rain's ruptured friendship with Queenie? Again, Smith nails that you can't really decide to ignore each other: you both know too much, you're both too dangerous to the other. Ex-friends are for life.

Also, it's a messy book, which is something I heartily approve of. F'rinstance: (skip spoiler)
as precious as Galen was to Rain, he still betrayed Queenie twice (once by dumping her for being black, and a second time by blaming Queenie for the break-up) and then co-opted Rain into both betrayals (switching his affections to Rain, who is conveniently, and non-coincidentally, almost white; allowing Rain to break off her friendship with Queenie on the basis of the lie he had trumped up to save his own face). What can Rain do with those betrayals, especially given that Galen is dead?
(And while we're on the topic, Smith's willingness to embrace messiness is also part of why the book "pings" so hard for me on mixed, lighty, and disconnect stuff: those are messy experiences. If Smith had neatened them, there would be no ping.)

One last thing: it's a well-crafted book. I've been re-reading bits and pieces here and there while writing this review, and there are lots of little details that didn't have meaning on the first read-through, but are little bombs of significance on re-read.

Most books come into my hands, I read them, and I let them go again; this one is definitely getting a place on my shelf.

(Additional tags: Muscogee - author; Muscogee - character; Ojibwe - character)
[identity profile] wordsofastory.livejournal.com
35. Diana Abu-Jaber, Crescent

Oh, this book. I wish I could quote the entire thing at you; the language is gorgeous and perfect and there are so many bits of it floating in my head. This is the most wonderful thing I've read in ages. Okay, just a few quotes:

Describing Sir Richard Burton: He did, however, like so many Victorians, have an aptitude for ownership, an attachment to things material and personal, like colonies and slaves- he especially enjoyed owning slaves while living in someone else's house.

Two people discussing a fairy tale: I didn't know that business about the Queen of Sheba. That she was so beautiful. That it could make you go crazy.
It was one of her more salient characteristics.


Describing food: The potatoes are soft as velvet, the gravy satiny. It is as if she can taste the life inside all those ingredients: the stem that the cranberries grew on, the earth inside the bread, even the warm blood that was once inside the turkey.

The food porn in this book is amazing. I was left with a deep craving for hummus with olive oil, mjaddarah, lamb with garlic... all the amazing Middle Eastern food Abu-Jaber describes.

I suppose I should actually describe what this book is about. Sirine is a mixed-race woman, her father Iraqi and her mother European-American, who was born and has never left Los Angeles. She works as the chef at a Lebanese restaurant in the Iranian section of LA, and lives with her uncle, who is a professor at a nearby college. When she meets Han, a writer in exile from Iraq, they start a relationship and she has to deal with questions of exile, home, secrets, and so on. Interspersed with and weaving through the main plot is a long-running story told by Sirine's uncle, supposedly about his cousin, but which reads more like a fairy tale or a Sufi parable (though the uncle insists that it has no moral), full of mermaids, djinns, the Mother of the Nile, and lost tribes of Bedouin. The book is set in 1999, which means the political situation is a bit different from today; I kept being confused until I figured out when it was set.

But a description of the plot doesn't do much to capture the book, since, really, relatively little happens in it. It's full of beautifully described ordinary moments, lush cooking scenes, vivid evocations of both LA and Iraq (having only been to LA once, I can't say how accurate those scenes are, though they're amazing to read. The Iraq scenes, though, captured exactly my memories of Syria and made me long to go for a visit). It can be hilariously funny at points (I loved the mythical Hal'Awud), though it's a fairly serious book overall. The language is so poetic that reading it made me feel dreamy and content.

This post is getting long, so let me just say that I highly, highly recommend this book. I'll be seeking out other things by the author.
[identity profile] sweet-adelheid.livejournal.com
This is the book that has held up my other reviews. Which is probably a good thing, because my initial opinion of it is certainly a little different now than it was when I first read the book about six weeks ago.

Summary: Deep beneath the land is the Rainbow Spirit or the Rainbow Snake, the eternal source of life and spiritual power. [The authors] identify God the Creator with the Rainbow Spirit and they see in Christ the incarnation of the Rainbow Spirit in human form, which for them is Aboriginal Australian.

My first comment is related to authorship. I puzzled initially over whether this book "counted", even though my gut feeling is that it does. The people who physically wrote the words down are white: Rob Bos and Norman Habel. But the group who came up with the words, whose work is behind this, and who have (as the introduction states) approved the final version of the words, are all Indigenous Australians: George Rosendale, Nola Archie, Dennis Corowa, William Coolburra, Eddie Law and James Leftwich. Jasmine Corowa was the group's artist. (I know Dennis and James a little, and hugely respect both them and George - of whom I've heard - and have been on a committee with Rob for the past three years.) In the end, I think saying that this *doesn't* count would be infantilising the Rainbow Spirit Elders; essentially saying that they didn't "really" participate in this work.

Comments on content )

Ultimately - this book is a way that I can listen to the Elders, and I need to view it in that light. I will benefit greatly from re-reading this book and contemplating it further. Of that I am absolutely certain.
sanguinity: woodcut by M.C. Escher, "Snakes" (Default)
[personal profile] sanguinity
58. Kip Fulbeck, Paper Bullets: a fictional autobiography.

I loved this a lot. Kip Fulbeck's background as a spoken-word artist is very prominent in Paper Bullets: this is a man who knows how to tell a story, how to pace it, how to deliver it, how to catch up his audience and seduce them. And these are good stories, too. I enjoy a lot of what I read, but I don't savor that many books; Paper Bullets is one I savored.

59. Kip Fulbeck, part asian, 100% hapa.

What are you?

100-some individuals, each photographed very simply against a white background; each photograph is faced with the subject's hand-written, free-form answer to the question "What are you?" Some people write several paragraphs, others come back with a one-liner ("Shouldn't you be asking my name, first?"); school-age kids draw pictures; toddlers scribble. The so-called "official" answer to said question, the list of each individual's ethnic heritages, is typewritten up in the corner, but the "official" answer is always dwarfed by the handwriting and the direct gazes. If you're kinda starved for representations of mixed people (which I am), this is all kinds of awesome.

Cons: White-Asian mixes predominate, even though some individuals are Asian-Asian, Asian-Black, or other mixes. Additionally, fully a third of Paul Spickard's afterword is a defense of the Asian-American appropriation of "hapa". (And not a very good defense, in my mind: language changes, we're using the word respectfully.)

Samples from the book (different layout than in the book, but same images/info) are available on the website.
[identity profile] sweet-adelheid.livejournal.com
Somehow - I don't remember how - The Miracle at Santa Ana caught my eye, and was on my mental list, at least, for this challenge. And then, browsing the biography shelves at one of the public libraries to which I belong, The Color of Water caught my eye. Santa Ana is now most definitely on my list.

Every so often you see an interview question - or an internet meme - that asks what books have stayed with a person throughout their life.

I hope that this is one of mine.

I hope that what I think I've learned from reading this book stays with me: that God is the color of water; that there's always more to someone else than you think. I hope that the lyricism, the simple beauty of McBride's writing stays with me. I hope that the image of Ruth McBride, riding her bike through Brooklyn, tall and proud and indomitable, stays with me.

Read more... )

#1-3, 5

May. 10th, 2009 03:12 pm
oyceter: teruterubouzu default icon (Default)
[personal profile] oyceter
I have been reading! I have just been very bad at posting to the comm.

  1. Davis, Tanita S. - A La Carte
    Seventeen-year-old Lainey already knows what she wants from life: become a celebrity chef, get her own Food Network show, and come up with lots of awesome vegetarian dishes. But she and her best friend Sim have grown apart—he's hanging out with the partiers while she could care less—and to keep him close, Lainey's willing to do a lot more than she thought. (more)


  2. Headley, Justina Chen - North of Beautiful
    Terra Rose Cooper is gorgeous: tall, thin, blonde-haired and blue-eyed. Or she would be, if it weren't for the port-wine stain covering the entire right side of her face. Her life is also perfect, or it would be, if her father didn't emotionally abuse everyone in the family, if her brothers in China and Seattle would only check in, if her mother didn't fear driving and overeat since her sister (Terra's aunt) died in a car accident. (more)


  3. Ly, Many - Roots and Wings
    Grace's grandmother Naree has died, and her mother Chandra decides that they must hold a Cambodian funeral, despite having cut all ties to the community Chandra grew up with in St. Petersburg, Florida. When they return to Florida, Grace seizes on the chance to find out more about her family history—why her grandmother's face was scarred, why her grandmother and mother moved away before she was born, and most importantly, who her father is. (more)


  4. Woodson, Jacqueline - After Tupac and D Foster
    D Foster shows up in the narrator and her best friend Neeka's lives shortly after Tupac is shot for the first time, and she leaves shortly before he dies. D is a kid in foster care who looks forward to the day her mom will come back to her, and her life is worlds away from that of the narrator and Neeka, who aren't allowed to go past their block, who are looked after by their moms. (more)
ext_34185: (cirkels)
[identity profile] allangtegek.livejournal.com
Scherven van smaragd (“Shards of Emerald”) is an autobiographical novel/collection of short stories by an Indo (Dutch Indonesian/mixed Asian-European) writer. It addresses, in its seven “intermissions”, written in the ‘present’ of ’82 or ’83 and eight “STORIES”, spanning the years of her youth, a variety of issues.

We’re treated to short sketches of Jill’s childhood, adolescence and young adulthood, alternated by commentaries from ‘later on’ (except the closing intermission, which stands alone). Due to its nature, it’s difficult to give a more detailed summary than that.

I’m not sure how much I liked this book. While I definitely think it’s well-written, I don’t like it as much as her second novel (coming up when I reread it again), and I find it difficult to say much of anything about it, really.

I have a longer review (also more stream-of-consciousness-y) up in my journal, in Dutch.
[identity profile] movehalfaninch.livejournal.com
this is my first posting. hello! my name is sarah, and i'm half black half jewish. my mother is jewish. A friend of mine recommended a book called 'Ace of Spades' by David Matthews (you can find it here: http://tr.im/iGsu), and I love it so much. I'm half way through it and I can't believe how great this book is. It's so funny and personable. There are moments where I have to put the book down and just burst out laughing. But wow, is it well written! David Matthews is poetic with his words. Truly astounding. Here's a brief description from The New Yorker:
The son of a Zionist white mother and a Malcolm X-admiring black father, Matthews, in this memoir, is a boy without a race in a city, Baltimore, that requires him to choose one. The story of racial pinball is not entirely unfamiliar: the black kids reject him as too light-skinned, the whites as too broad-nosed. But Matthews displays improvisational verve—blacks are "burnished" and "browned butter," and whites are anything from "alabaster" to "a puffy marshmallow in Baltimore’s steaming cup of cocoa"—and narrates with the vigor of a movie script. Indeed, it is on television that, as a child, he finds the clarity he yearns for. "I was a living contradiction of elements that shouldn’t have been," he writes at one point, whereas on TV "everything was black, or white, and a lot like life."
Really, i can't recommend this book more! I love it! Have you read it?
here's the author, david matthews:
sanguinity: woodcut by M.C. Escher, "Snakes" (Default)
[personal profile] sanguinity
(So. Freakin'. Far. Behind. On. My. Reviews.)

34. Alicia Erian, Towelhead.

I loved this all to pieces, and inhaled it in as close to a single sitting as my life allows. (I think it actually took something like four sittings, over the space of twelve hours or so.)

Jasira is thirteen, and surrounded by adults who think they're looking out for her, but are actually all betraying her. All of the adults suspect that all of the other adults are failing Jasira in assorted particular ways (and each of them is right in their suspicions about the others), but in their quest to be The One Thing Which Jasira Isn't Getting (while making absolutely sure to get what they themselves want from Jasira), they all perpetrate their own injuries and insults upon her.

(You know what these adults reminded me of? The adults in the Ramona books. Who were supposedly on Ramona's side, yet who betrayed her as casually and routinely as breathing.)

I could not read the Ramona books as a child, because Ramona was five and completely vulnerable to the adults. But Jasira is thirteen, and while she's still vulnerable, she has also learned the fine arts of deceit, of secrets, of playing adults off against each other, of playing them off against themselves. In the midst of all this adult betrayal and attempts to control and use her, Jasira starts carving out a space for herself: a space where she has agency, where she calls the shots, where she's the only one who knows everything that's going on.

I spent the entire book simultaneously rooting for Jasira ("You go! You show them that you're a person and they don't run the show!"), and cringing in terror for her. And also yelling at the adults to get with the program and take on the responsibilities of adulthood. (I can tell that I've somehow become a grown-up somewhere along the line, because I find myself thinking things like, "I know you have issues, everyone has issues, but there's a kid mixed up in all this which means that you don't get to make this about you.")

Some stuff I really liked about this book: mild spoilers )

Then there are things about the climax that, when I step back from the book, bother me a lot: far more serious spoilers )

So, in the end, I'm somewhat conflicted about the book. Even while loving it enough to have inhaled it in more-or-less one sitting, and to have refused to pick up another book for a full twenty-four hours because I was still too busy thinking about this one.

Do with that what you will.

(By the way, for those who chose not to read the spoiler-cuts, but who still want trigger warnings up-front: there's sexual predation upon a thirteen-year-old in this book. Just so you know.)
[identity profile] sweet-adelheid.livejournal.com
A Red Death by Walter Mosley (Audio Renaissance, 2002) read by Stanley Bennett Clay

A long time ago I decided never again to read crime fiction written by a man. I was so disappointed by the James Patterson "Women's Murder Club" book that I read (I actually felt it was worse than Patricia Cornwall!), that I decided that was it. No more male writers.

But there came a day when I needed a heck of a lot of mental distraction on my (hour-long) drive home from work, and when I went to the library I discovered that they had four Mosley audio books and another four or five *books* of his. And as it was the only thing that looked vaguely interesting in the audio book section - and because it would count for 50books_poc - I decided to give Mosley a chance.

Mosley's writing, and his character Easy Rawlins, remind me of Sara Paretsky and VI Warshawski, a favourite writer/character duo that I've been sorely missing of late. They've got the rough edges, the gritty cities, the edge to their stories that other writers don't quite match.

Read more... )
[identity profile] quasiradiant.livejournal.com
This is my first post here. Thought I'd raise my head and do more than just lurk in the shadows.

So, for my first post, two books of poetry. I find poetry very difficult to discuss like this, even though I read a great deal and enjoy it a lot. I'll give a shot, though, in case there are any other poetry lovers out there looking for something new.

Dread, by Ai )

+

Song of Farewell, by Jane Okot p'Bitek )
[identity profile] staubundsterne.livejournal.com
Hi. This is the first part of my 2008' roundup (I'm so lazy when it comes to writeups, I hope to do better this year), links go back to my journal.

Dorothy Roberts (1997): Killing the Black Body. Race, Reproduction and the Meaning of Liberty. Random House/NY et al.

Dorothy Roberts looks at the history of Black women's bodies, the systemic abuse, starting at the beginning of colonial/modern slavery, over sterilisation abuses in the eugenics boom that had tens of thousands women of color coerced into sterilisation to newer and more streamlined methods of reproductive control like Norplant and Depo-Provera. While examining the effects of governmental policies and control images – Black Welfare Queens and Crack Babies - reproduced by society on Black women's reproductive rights, Roberts never shifts her focal point from her core question: How have these factors shaped Black women's reproductive freedom? (more)


Andrea Smith (2005): Conquest. Sexual Violence and American Indian Genocide. South End Press/Cambridge.

I read this one back-to-back with Killing the Black Body and, wow. Compellingly argued, Andrea Smith analyses how sexual violence is not as much a side-effect but a prequesition of colonialism, how the construction of white women's sexuality as clean and pristine needed a „rapable“ „counterpart“ in the flesh, how systemic abuse and „population control“ intersect and result in medical experimentation and objectification of native women's bodies. The scale and scope of the analysis shines, the critique of the response to gender based violence against women of color makes more than sense and Andrea Smith poses uncomfortable but logical questions: If our current governmental system and the institutions that should guarantee that nobody's voice is erased just don't work what good do they do?*(more)


Cherríe Moraga/Gloria Anzaldúa, Ed. (1981/1983): This Bridge Called My Back. Writings by Radical Women of Color. Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press/New York.

There are a lot of reviews of Bridge in this community and I'm only adding my voice to the chorus. For me, this is writing in the best and most powerful sense, full of passion, emotion, intelligence and empathy. I don't know what to tell you about Bridge except that you should go read it. Now. (more)
oyceter: teruterubouzu default icon (Default)
[personal profile] oyceter
Sigh. I give up. I am starting over with numbering and going with the calendar year instead, as that will be easier for me to track. Also, I am going to number according to when I read the book, as opposed to when I post about it to the comm.

Remaining books from 2008:

Masumoto, David Mas - Epitaph for a Peach: Four Seasons on My Family Farm
But mostly, I love the story of the farm, of freak rainstorms that can ruin raisin crops, of cover crops and wildflowers, of peach-eating pests and fertilizer. Reading this book made me feel happy and fulfilled and at peace. Highly recommended. (more)

Butler, Octavia E. - Patternmaster and Mind of My Mind
I... have absolutely no idea what to write for these books, since many of the surprises and twists in worldbuilding were completely unsurprising to me, given that I had read Wild Seed and Clay's Ark, or I felt like there was no tension because I knew the outcome from Patternmaster. I was particularly disappointed because I read Wild Seed first, many years ago, and none of the characters in the other books come close to being as fascinating as Doro and Anyanwu. (more)

Uehashi Nahoko - Moribito: Guardian of the Spirit
Balsa is a 30-year-old spearwoman who has been tasked with protecting the younger prince. He's currently the receptacle of a mystical force that may or may not be deadly to him and those around him. To safeguard him, Balsa also has to uncover the actual history of the nation, which has been obscured to glorify the nation's founder. (more)

Smith, Sherri L. - Hot, Sour, Salty, Sweet
Still, non-white biracial kid! I suspect the book skews young for most people on my flist, but it was still nice to read, and it's something I'd like to give to girls of color to read. (more)

Smith, Cynthia Leitich - Tantalize
Quincie P. Morris is busy these days trying to get her uncle's vampire-themed restaurant Sanguini's to successfully open, though things have been complicated by the murder of their chef Vinnie (possibly by a werewolf) and by the fact that her werewolf best friend Kieran doesn't get her not-too-subtle hints about liking him. Soon, she has to transform the restaurant's new chef Brad into a vampire sexpot who will lure in customers while her uncle and the police keep getting in the way of her relationship with Kieran. (more)

Sanchez, Alex - Rainbow Boys and Rainbow High
Sanchez is very good at doing real-life high school; his characters feel like people going through actual issues to me, and I like how sometimes they are stupid and sometimes they are not, because that's the way people (especially teenagers) are. The downside is that his prose tends to be very flat. (more)

Kim, Derek Kirk - Same Difference and Other Stories
I felt like this volume has much of the American indie comic sensibility—crowded art, neurotic characters, big focus on failed love lives—which is sad, as there's a reason why I don't read many American indie comics (I know, I stereotype). (more)

40-43

May. 12th, 2008 09:51 pm
littlebutfierce: (Default)
[personal profile] littlebutfierce
Global Divas: Filipino Gay Men in the Diaspora - Martin F. Manalansan IV. Read more... )

Hum Bows, Not Hot Dogs!: Memoirs of a Savvy Asian American Activist - Bob Santos. Read more... )

The Sum of Our Parts: Mixed Heritage Asian Americans - Edited by Teresa Williams-Leon & Cynthia L. Nakashima. Read more... )

From a Native Daughter: Colonialism and Sovereignty in Hawai'i - Haunani-Kay Trask. Read more... )
sanguinity: woodcut by M.C. Escher, "Snakes" (Default)
[personal profile] sanguinity
20. Mildred D. Taylor, The Road To Memphis

Jump seven years, and Cassie is well on her way to all growed up... )


21. Ai Yazawa, Nana, Vol. 7

Nana makes me happy: emo chick-lit manga, with a touch of Sid Vicious thrown in for fun. I just wish I had waited to start reading them until the entire series had been published in English. Because waiting for the next installation sucks.


22. Claudine Chiawei O'Hearn, ed., Half + Half: Writers on Growing Up Biracial + Bicultural

This is a lovely anthology of essays, with quite a lot of variety -- writing style, cultural and racial backgrounds, how one came to be bi-racial or bi-cultural and how that played out -- and I'm tempted to turn back to the first page and start the book over again. There's a lot in here, and it's good.

And more personally... )

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