Mid-Year Book Freakout Tag

I recently got tagged* in the in the Mid-Year Book Freakout tag on Instagram and although I have already made my post for the tag there, I wanted to make a companion blog post to elaborate on the books I chose for each question and why I chose them. This tag was jointly created by booktubers Earl Grey Books and Chami, and the questions are meant to allow you to reflect on the books you have read so far this year, as well as what books you want to read in the second half of the year. Granted, we are a little more than halfway through the year right now, but if it's not too late to make a 2021 reading roundup post, it's not too late for this. 

*I actually tagged myself but that's not important

Best book — The Three-Body Problem by Liu Cixin

I was truly surprised to love this book as much as I did, since sci-fi is not a genre I've generally been fond of in the past. Especially given that The Three-Body Problem is a 'hard sci-fi' book (i.e. one that is heavy on science/scientific accuracy, as opposed to a 'soft sci-fi' book in which this is not such a priority) with a strong emphasis on physics, I was braced to struggle a bit with it going in. 

To my surprise, The Three-Body Problem was actually a gripping read, intellectually challenging but without feeling like getting hit in the head with a science textbook. I felt that Liu did an excellent job of making the science comprehensible to the average non-scientist reader while also keeping the mind-blowing implications of some of the book's more out-there sci-fi elements. One of my favourite parts of the book, without a doubt, is the element of existential terror in it. It's hard to say much without spoiling it, but one of the major themes is the scale of humanity's existence in the universe, how much we are at the mercy of galactic forces that remain largely unknown to us. I'm so excited to read the next book in the series, which brings me to....

Favourite sequel — Haven’t read any yet this year! However, I am really hoping that The Dark Forest, Liu Cixin's sequel to The Three-Body Problem will be as good as the first book in the series.

New release you haven’t read yet — You Made a Fool of Death with Your Beauty by Akwaeke Emezi

My god, I feel like I have seen this book everywhere. Every bookshop, every bookstagram, every book website I follow. From what I've heard, it's for good reason. I haven't yet read a full book by Emezi (blame the library for making me return Freshwater before I had time to finish it), but I have greatly enjoyed their writing so far, so I really want to read this latest book by them. Not to mention that the hardback cover is absolutely gorgeous - if I had the money, that reason alone would have made me buy a the first time I saw one in a shop.

Favourite re-read — The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson

I re-read this book this year for my dissertation, which looked at queer themes in The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson and White is for Witching by Helen Oyeyemi. Although I love both books, The Haunting of Hill House is one of my favourite books in the world, and I notice new things about it every time I pick it up. I hope I will still be reading this book many years from now, when life experience will open my eyes to parts of Hill House that had been previously unknown to me. 

Biggest disappointment — A Visit from the Goon Squad by Jennifer Egan

Should I make a whole rant post about this book? I certainly have the negative emotions needed to fuel it. I read this book because it was required on a course I was taking on Humanitarian Fictions, and besides not really knowing what exactly this book had to do with humanitarianism, I barely liked a single chapter of it. The one exception is the (in)famous 'PowerPoint chapter', which is told from the perspective of a young girl using PowerPoint slides to speak about her family. The concept of this chapter was innovative and some of the writing in it was quite beautiful. Why this innovation and beauty did not carry over to the rest of the text, I don't know. In any case, I finished A Visit from the Goon Squad depressed, irritated, and wanting to make unflattering comparisons to A Little Life.

Biggest surprise — Animal’s People by Indra Sinha

I was assigned Animal's People to read on the same course as A Visit from the Goon Squad, but I had the exact opposite experience with it. While I had some hope for A Visit from the Goon Squad but ended up hating it, I was reluctant to read Animal's People but ended up loving it - I even replanned all of my assignments for the course, just so I could write on Animal's People. 

I think the reason I wasn't expecting to like this book is because some of its marketing led me to believe that this would be the sort of borderline-exploitative trauma porn you see lining the shelves of the Tesco book section (you can normally spot them by pictures of crying children on the cover). To my surprise, Animal's People was not that at all, but a nuanced look disaster, disability, and the joy of community formed in the aftermath of struggle. 

A book that made you cry — Human Acts by Han Kang

Another book from the Humanitarian Fictions course, to stay Human Acts made me cry would be an understatement. This book emotionally destroyed me. What makes it harder to read is the fact that it is based on a real event, the Gwangju Uprising in South Korea, in which hundreds to thousands of protestors were killing by authoritarian government forces.* In Human Acts, the grief of each death is painfully felt, leading to an overwhelming sense of horror as these individual deaths continue to stack up. This is not doubt a necessary book, but it is a heartbreaking one. 

*There is debate over the official death statistics and whether they can be trusted. The lower limit of deaths, according to the government shortly after the event, is between 100-200. Other sources think that the number could be much higher, as many as 2,000 deaths. 

A book that made you smile — Princess Princess Ever After by Kay O’Neill

I have been a fan of Kay O'Neill since their Tumblr days, and it makes me so happy to see them as a successful published graphic novelist now. I read Princess Princess Ever After on my Kindle Unlimited free trial and was excited to see the features I have come to expect of their work: beautiful pastel-hued artwork, heartwarming storylines, queer love, and diverse representation. This book, though it is probably meant for a much younger audience than me, still made me smile. The thought that young queer kids are growing up in a world where books like this are increasingly mainstream made me even happier. 

Favourite book by a debut/new to you author — Magma by Thora Hjörleifsdóttir

I saw this book recommended on TikTok (where I increasingly get my book recommendations these days) as a short read you could get through in a day. Magma is indeed a short book, with varyingly-short chapters too - some as short as a paragraph - yet it has the force of a much larger book behind it. Focusing on a young woman in a toxic relationship with a much older man, Magma reflected a situation I have seen around me so many times. Hjörleifsdóttir manages to show how these relationships, even if they are not overtly physically harmful, can be based on power imbalances that open them up to abuse of all kinds. This was a short, propulsive, and heart-rending read.

Most anticipated release for the second half of the year — Her Majesty’s Royal Coven by Juno Dawson

This actually came out in hardback here in the UK the day after I made my Instagram post, so I'm not sure it can even count as an 'anticipated' release anymore, but I'm going to include it anyway. I've always thought the concepts of Juno Dawson's books sounded so cool and wanted to read them, but I don't generally do well with young adult fiction and so have left them alone so far. Her Majesty's Royal Coven has an equally fun and fascinating concept, but as it is Dawson's first work of adult fiction, this time I actually plan on reading it. 

Most beautiful book you have bought or received — The Book of Form and Emptiness by Ruth Ozeki (my signed Waterstones hardback 💖)

Having waited eight years (eight years!) for Ruth Ozeki, one of my favourite authors, to release a new novel, I was well-prepared to snap up a copy of The Book of Form and Emptiness as soon as it came out. My copy is the signed special edition from Waterstones, a hardback edition with sprayed edges and a signature from Ozeki herself, which I shall treasure forever. 

Book you want to read by the end of the year — Luster by Raven Leilani (among others!)

I actually got about halfway through this book earlier in the year, but ended up having to abandon it to focus on my university work. It's been so long since I picked it back up that I think I probably need to start from the beginning again now. One of my reading goals for the rest of 2022 is to start again and actually finish it this time!

I think most people have done this tag at this point, but if you haven't and want to, please feel free to take this post as me tagging you to do it now. Otherwise, have you read or wanted to read any of the books on this list? Let me know what you thought if so 💖

My Favourite Books of 2021

[Note: This post was written all the way back in February 2022 and has been languishing in my drafts ever since. I am going to post it without edits to bring it up to date, but I mention this because otherwise certain allusions to other posts, etc. may not make sense unless you know this one was written some months ago. Also, my opinion on these books may have changed since time of writing, but I am also refraining from updating these as I want to keep this post accurate to how I felt in February, when these books were perhaps fresher in my mind than now.]

As I promised in my apology post last month, this will be my 2021 reading round-up post, in which I list the top ten books I enjoyed the most this past year. I would insert something here about 2021, how it was a long and arduous year but we made it in the end, etc. - but I really don't feel like it. Anyway, the most important thing to know for the purposes of this post is that I managed to get a roughly average amount of reading done this year: somewhere between 40 and 50 books. That should give you some idea of how highly I rate these following books, although I would also like to say that I genuinely think all of these are brilliant and would recommend any of them. I am also not ranking them in order based on quality or opinion, because they are all quite different and none of them significantly rose above the rest in my memory. Instead, I have tried to order them roughly from the books I read least to most recently (as far as I am able to recall when I read them).

One last thing to bear in mind is that some of these books I have written about before on this blog, in which case I will still write a little bit about them here but will also direct you to my previous posts for further detail.

Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte

This is one of three books in this post that I already talked about a bit in my post 4 Short Book Reviews, so I won't talk about this too much here. I imagine that many of you are already familiar with the plot of Emily Bronte's Gothic classic Wuthering Heights, but if not: it focuses primarily on the violently tragic love story of Heathcliff and Cathy, who grow up together but are repeatedly kept apart by other people and their own bad choices. I always feel I have to add a disclaimer when writing about this book though: Heathcliff and Cathy are not good people, and I don't think we're meant to believe they are! I enjoyed the book in spite (because?) of this, but it's best to know about this going in, lest you expect noble and pure heroes and heroines and end up horrified by the reality of these terrible people.

The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy

Once again, this is a book I already covered in the aforementioned post (clearly that was a good month for quality books!). I already described it in that post, so here I will just say that this was an amazing book, one of the best family saga-type novels I've read. It has reappeared in my head many times since I finished it, and I can imagine reading it again many times in the future. 

Tokyo Ueno Station by Yu Miri

Ah, one of the saddest books I read last year. Tokyo Ueno Station is set at its titular location, focusing on the ghost of a man named Kazu, who was a migrant labourer in life and who now haunts the station where he ended his life as a homeless man. Incorporating a number of events in Japanese history, from the preparation for the 1964 Olympics which Kazu worked during to the 2011 tsunami, Yu draws particular attention to the way these national events impacted the lives of Japan's poorest and most vulnerable citizens. This is done in no small part through the parallels between Kazu's life and that of Emperor Akihito, who was born the same year as him. In spite of this and numerous other coincidences in their lives, Kazu and the Emperor's lives are obviously and painfully disparate. This is not an easy book to read, but it is an emotionally powerful and important one nonetheless.

Something to Talk About by Meryl Wilsner

Okay, I promise this is the last book which will involve me redirecting you to my 4 Short Book Reviews post - I can't help it if my favourite books of the year all came around the same time! Anyway, this is a charming contemporary romance about a hotshot showrunner and her assistant, which somehow manages to escape the dodgy power-imbalance issues you would expect from such a setup while still taking advantage of the romantic tension it provides. I nurse a little gay hope that this book will eventually be made into a big gay movie, and my life will be complete. 

There There by Tommy Orange

I was ecstatic to find this book at a local library in Bahrain, having had it on my to-read list for some time. Written by Tommy Orange, a member of the Cheyenne and Arapaho Tribes of Oklahoma, There There follows the intersecting stories of twelve Native American characters in the lead-up to a pow wow in Oakland, California. Although the characters experience diverse issues in their personal lives - from mental illness, to abusive relationships, to foetal alcohol syndrome - a recurring theme across their stories is the idea of what it means to be a Native American in today's world, especially as an 'Urban Indian' living in a city. 

This was a beautiful and heart-breaking book, with a unique structure. I might have been doubtful of an author's ability to switch back and forth between characters and perspectives as Orange does in There There, but he pulls it off brilliantly. 

You Let Me In by Camilla Bruce

I bought this book (like so many in 2021) on a whim because the ebook was on sale, only for it to become one of my favourite books I've read in a while. This is an unsettling, Gothic tale of a girl whose life has been haunted from a young age by the mysterious Pepper-Man. He is seemingly a sort of fairy or fae, but not in the sense of the little winged pixies - Pepper-Man is more akin to the dangerous, vampiric and human-like fae of old folklore. The book is full of questions: is Pepper-Man real, or just a psychological manifestation of young Cassandra's childhood trauma? Is the adult Cassandra, a celebrated romantic novelist, responsible for the deaths of several family members, as many suppose her to be? How much of what Cassandra narrates throughout the story is real, how much is fake, and how much does she genuinely believe in?

This book gripped me from start to finish, and left me with a severe book hangover - a sure sign of a good book. I can't wait to read Camilla Bruce's next work, the equally fascinating-sounding Triflers Need Not Apply. If it's anything close to as good as You Let Me In, I will be a very happy reader.

Here Comes the Sun by Nicole Dennis-Benn

To give you some idea of how I found this book, know that one of the tags I applied to it on LibraryThing is "ruined me emotionally". I stand by this. Even thinking about some parts of it now, I feel the urge to cry or possibly scream - obviously this means I highly recommend the novel.

Here Comes the Sun is about three women (a mother and her two daughters) living and trying to survive in modern Jamaica. While the cover of the book might convince you that this is a light summer beach read, the plot is far from it. Some of the issues the book addresses include gentrification, sexual exploitation, homophobia, colourism, and generational trauma, among others. All of the characters are by turns infuriating and sympathetic, with their own struggles and reasons for the way they behave. They all felt incredibly real, which made certain parts of the book all the more heart-breaking. There is one particular part near the end of the book which I can't describe without spoiling it, but it gave me perhaps the most visceral feeling of devastation I've experienced from a book this year.

Tender is the Flesh by Agustina Bazterrica

Speaking of viscera... the premise of Tender is the Flesh is essentially: what if factory farming, but with humans? If that sounds absolutely repulsive to you, then you would be right. This book is disturbing and would definitely be classed as dystopian, if not outright horror fiction. Both of these genres are most effective when their outlandish plots reflect real-life concerns, and Tender is the Flesh does this very well. Reading the book, you start to believe that certain scenarios could genuinely lead to a situation like this, with institutionalised cannibalism becoming just another form of exploitation in society. You can also of course read the book as a reflection of the horrors of factory farms as they exist now, which naturally as a vegan did occur to me, but I won't delve into that too deeply. Suffice to say that if you can stomach it, this is powerful and gripping read. 

Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 by Cho Nam-joo

I will keep this section quite short, since if you want to read more of my thoughts on Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 you can simply read the previous post I wrote about it. For this post, suffice to say that this is a short but impactful novel about what it means to be a woman today, in Korea and beyond. If I had to recommend one book to a man to help him understand what it's like to live as a woman in the world of the 21st century, I think this might be the book I would suggest.

Margarita's Husband, A Fable of the Levant by Andriana Ierodiaconou

I read this book in the summer of 2021, as I wanted to read a book specifically set in Cyprus to continue my tradition of reading one book for every country I visit. I hadn't heard of this novel before and it didn't seem to have many reviews online, but I would happily agree with those few testimonials calling it 'a hidden gem'. Set on an island in the Levant which appears to be but is not named as Cyprus, this short book focuses on Homer Kyroleon, a 'wealthy Christian landowner, inveterate womanizer and local political figure', and the family members and local residents who surround him: his docile and sensitive wife Margarita, his rebellious son Adonis, his now-deceased daughter Polyxene, and Gethsemane, the young refugee who takes both Kyroleon and his son as lovers. This familial drama takes place against a backdrop of political and social unrest on the island, as anti-colonial, religious, and class tensions rise. 

***

With that, my list of the best books I read in 2021 is complete! It was quite a good year for reading, and I hope that 2022 can provide me with at least as many excellent books again. If you're reading this, feel free to let me know: Was this a good reading year for you? Did you have a favourite book or books you read in 2021?

An Explanation, An Apology, and A Plan

Today, after about six months of disappearing completely from this blog, I finally took the "now updating every Wednesday" line out of the Extra Libris subtitle. While that sentence was ambitious and even true for a short period, the fact that the last post on this website was damningly dated 19 July 2021 showed quite clearly that it was no longer appropriate. So, I have taken it out, replacing it with the somewhat literal but decidedly clunkier "Books and beyond" - please expect this to change again in the near future, as soon as I can think of something even marginally better. 

This post is not about Extra Libris's subtitle, though, but rather about the more pressing issue of my unintentional hiatus. Around the time when I published my last post on here, I got accepted into a university programme, specifically a master's in literature. Since then, I've been so overwhelmed with preparation before and work during term that I have barely had time to read for pleasure, let alone write anything besides essays or presentation handouts. So in the meantime this blog has been, for lack of a better word, neglected.

I would like to now add a "BUT" and say that this is all about to change, and I am going to start posting regularly again, but (there it is) unfortunately that's not something I can promise at the moment. What I can say is that I hope to post a little bit more frequently than once every six months, which is hopefully a suitably ambitious goal for my overwhelmed brain to handle. At the very least, I am planning to write a post listing my favourite books of 2021 - something I am very much looking forward to writing. 

I have also recently set up an Instagram page as a sort of companion to this blog. Besides posting on there when I make a post on here (assuming the latter happens, of course), I would also like to make the occasional standalone Instagram post or story about books, films, or whatever I would normally write about on here. My hope is that this will be more manageable than regularly writing full blog posts; plus it means I can store all my book- and other media-related posts on a specific account, rather than bombarding my friends and family with it all on my personal account. I have already gone ahead and set up this account, although it only has a few posts so far, at @extra_libris on Instagram. Please feel free to follow the account there if you would like to see my posts or stories when I upload them.

Thank you for reading and for your continued patience with this blog! Hope to see you back here soon 😊

Book Review: Willow Trees Don't Weep by Fadia Faqir

Dear readers, let me start this post with a quick apology. I'm sorry that this post didn't go up on Wednesday as planned, my only excuse being that this has been quite a busy week with job interviews and applications. Thankfully things have calmed down a bit now, leaving me with the time to give this post the attention it deserves. 

As I mentioned in the last post, this July I set out to read Fadia Faqir's novel Willow Trees Don't Weep by the middle of this month, a task I can now say was successful. I actually finished the book on around the 10th July, leaving me with enough time to finish another novel (the devastating Here Comes the Sun by Nicole Dennis-Benn) before it came time to start my second West Asian novel of the month. 

Let me not get off track though. This post is specifically about Willow Trees Don't Weep, not Here Comes the Sun or The Beauty of Your Face - although I'm sure that they are deserving of their own posts.

Willow Trees Don't Weep is a novel by Jordanian-British author Fadia Faqir, published in 2014. Its plot follows Najwa, a young woman in Amman whose family is left struggling after the death of her mother. Her father, Omar, abandoned his family to join the so-called "global jihad" when Najwa was just a baby, leaving Najwa and her grandmother to fend for themselves after Najwa's mother passes away. Fearing for their safety as lone women in a patriarchal society, Najwa and her grandmother decide that Najwa must leave Jordan and go to find her father. This quest takes her around the world, from Pakistan to England, following in the footsteps of her father as she tries to find out what happened to him. 

One of the things I liked most about this book was the character of Najwa. I thought she was an interesting, complex person, and I found her relatable even though her struggles were unlike anything I've ever experienced. Her mother renounced Islam and became determinedly secular after Omar left, associating Islam with the loss of her husband. This means that Najwa grows up feeling conflicted about her religious identity, torn between her mother's secularism and her grandmother's faith, while also being uncomfortably aware of the impact religion had on her father's path in life. 

On her journey, Najwa fluctuates between determination to continue to search for her father and teetering on the edge of a mental breakdown. I liked that Najwa came across as resilient without being stoic, and the way that her journey was not easy for her made it seem that much more realistic to me. Likewise, I appreciated Najwa's ambivalence towards her father. On one hand, she is actively seeking him out, missed his presence during her childhood, and wants him to come home to Jordan. On the other hand, she hates him for abandoning his family, for causing her suffering, and for the violent acts he took part in as a member of terrorist groups. 

While I appreciated Najwa's ambivalence about her father, I have to admit that my opinion on him was a bit more one-sided. Even though the book is interspersed with Omar's diary entries, starting from when he was in Amman with his wife and child and leading all the way up to his reunion with Najwa, I found him a difficult character to sympathise with. When you read about his experience as a doctor in a war zone, it's hard not to feel upset or nauseated by the descriptions of what he had to do, and of course I felt bad for him when he experienced the loss of those close to him in the fighting. However, I felt I didn't have that great a sense of what motivated him as a person, particularly what would compel him to leave his wife and young child. Omar more or less attributes this to a combination of wanting to protect his friend Hani, who was radicalised in Jordan, and wishing to get away from his nagging wife, but neither of those reasons seemed sufficient to me. They only felt flimsier later, as Omar's actions become worse and he gets ever deeper involved in Islamic totalitarian movements. It might have been enlightening to read from the perspective of someone who became so devoted to this cause and to perhaps understand what could motivate them to do some truly horrible things, but I felt Omar's account fell short of doing this. 

There were other things I liked and disliked about the book which are perhaps less central than these two main characters. I enjoyed the descriptions and imagery, and I found parts of the book very impactful emotionally. I wasn't so keen on the ending, nor the elements of the plot which seemed to pop up and then be more or less disregarded a few chapters later. While the book overall was intriguing and emotional, there was something of an unfinished quality about it. I would perhaps recommend this book to someone who is looking for work by a female Jordanian author, as I was, or to someone who wants to know more about Islamic totalitarianism and/or the conflict in Afghanistan - I can certainly say I came out of this book knowing more than when I went in. Overall, it was a decent book with some important themes, and I don't regret reading it. 

Jordan and West Asia Book Choices (From & About Asia Reading Project)

 As I promised last week, this Wednesday's post is going to focus on my book choices for month three of the From & About Asia reading project. This month is following the usual format whereby participants have to read one book from each of two categories (I will list them below, but for a more in-depth refresher please feel free to check out my masterpost on the project), this time restricted to Jordan and other countries in West Asia. These categories are:

Category I: a book by an author from that country

Category II: a book about the culture of the subregion where the country is from

For Category I, I have been reading Willow Trees Don't Weep by Fadia Faqir, who is a Jordanian woman writer and academic. I generally prefer to read books by women and realised this month that so far less than half of my books chosen for this project have been written by them, so for July I deliberately tried to choose books by women authors. Fadia Faqir is one such writer, but I didn't only choose her book for this reason. It also sounded like a poignant story of a young Jordanian woman who sets out to find her long-lost father, who abandoned his family decades ago to join a Jihadist sect in Central Asia. So far I have been enjoying the book, although parts of it are quite sad to read. I am motivated to keep reading and interested to see where the story goes.

For Category II, I am planning to read The Beauty of Your Face by Sahar Mustafah. While I believe Mustafah was born in America, she comes from a Palestinian family. I was a little hesitant to choose this book because I wasn't sure how much it focuses on the culture of Western Asia, but from what I've seen of reviews, I believe that it is informed by Mustafah's experience as a child of Palestinian immigrants. The protagonist of the book, like Mustafah, is a Palestinian-American woman living in the US. She is the head of a Muslim school for girls, and the story shows her reflecting on her life as a school shooter invades the building. I imagine that this book is not going to be an easy one to read, but at the same time it seems to address some very important issues and I have heard very good things about it. 

While this isn't exactly relevant to my book choices this month, I would like to mention that this is the first month in which I have actually scheduled my reading. In previous months, I just sort of told myself I needed to finish both assigned books by the end of the month, leaving it up to how I felt each day to determine how much I read on a daily basis. This month, I am approaching things a bit differently by giving myself a daily reading requirement: 20 pages a day. While my ebook reader seems determined to sabotage me, by showing my book progress in percentages rather than pages, I think that this breaks down a larger goal (reading two books in one month) into easily achievable chunks (20 pages a day). I have previously used this strategy when completing reading for university, so I am fairly confident it will work. That said, I will wait until the end of this month to judge its effectiveness and if it positively or negatively impacted my reading experience. 

So, that's all I have to share for now! I realise this is quite a short post, but I just wanted to give a quick update about my progress with the project and to let you know which books I am reading this month. There's a chance I may have finished Willow Trees Don't Weep by the time of next week's post, so that blog may well be a review of that book. If not, I suppose the topic will be a surprise!

June Reading Wrap-Up (From & About Asia Reading Project)

 This past month, most of my reading time has been occupied by two books:

- The Dead Lake by Hamid Ismailov 

- Mother Earth by Chingiz Aitmatov

These books constituted my self-assigned reading for the From & About Asia reading project's June reading requirements, which specified that I needed to read one book by an Uzbek author (The Dead Lake) and another book about the culture of Central Asia (Mother Earth). Since I finished these both quite close to the end of this month and so don't have time to write about each book in an individual post, I wanted to use this post as a sort of wrap-up in which I give my thoughts on both. 

Also, if you read the words "From & About Asia reading project" and have no idea what I was talking about, I recommend perusing my masterpost on the project and the posts I've made about it.

Let's start with The Dead Lake, as that is the book I read first out of the two. I mentioned in my previous post about it, which I wrote before actually reading the book, that I expected this to be quite a dark and disturbing book, perhaps even bordering on horror. When reading it, I was surprised to find that the book was definitely not of the horror variety, and it wasn't even as dark or disturbing as I expected. While there is certainly an element of existential horror in the book's key incident, in which a young boy enters a radioactive lake and ceases to grow after that point, there was a lot more to the story than just that. There was also humour, hope, and a lot left to the reader's imagination. 

I felt that The Dead Lake gave an immersive look at what it was like for young Yerzhan to grow up rural Kazakhstan, where global events feel at once incredibly distant and intimately close. When his uncle speaks of "the Americans" and nuclear bombs, it is as though he might as well be talking about aliens, the Cold War seems so far away. Yet when the houses in Yerzhan's area are shaken by test bombs, and his own growth is halted by exposure to radiation, you begin to understand that even a conflict which seems so remote can have devastating effects close to home. I think that the book's central plot point alludes to this deceptive dichotomy: when Yerzhan enters the lake, it is seemingly a minor event, the water showing no clear signs of its danger. The harm of the lake and the Cold War generally might not appear immediately, but that doesn't make them any less destructive.

Despite being written by a different author and set in what is now considered to be a different country, Mother Earth has a number of similarities with The Dead Lake. To start with, both books are set in rural areas of countries that - at the time the story takes place - were considered to be part of the Soviet Union. They both depict the mixture of pride and fear that comes with being part of the Soviet Union and show how the country's struggles (Mother Earth's with war and The Dead Lake's with nuclear weaponry) impact its citizens. While I expected The Dead Lake to be darker, Mother Earth was (in my opinion) the more emotionally devastating of the two. Its plot follows Tolgonai, a Kyrgyz farming woman, as she loses more and more of her family during WWII. Seeing Tolgonai's struggle was heartbreaking, perhaps more so because she always tries to remain a pillar of strength for her community and what is left of her family. The title of the book comes from the framing device used for the story, as it is narrated by Tolgonai through her conversations with a field, through which she speaks to Mother Earth. I thought that using Tolgonai's conversations with the earth in this way was very touching, showing us both the importance of the land to her while also stressing how alone she is. That said, this was not a book without hope. Throughout the story, Tolgonai holds onto the hope of life for her people and her family, and it is this hope which sustains her. 

I think I would recommend both of these books to anyone who wants to learn more about this area of the world and its history, as well as those who can appreciate a story even when it is difficult to read emotionally. Mother Earth was my favourite of the two, but I truly enjoyed both and could see myself reading more works by either Ismailov or Aitmatov. I had never heard of either of these books or authors before the From & About Asia reading project, so once again I'm pleased that this project gave me the opportunity to discover them and appreciate their work.

Next week, I will be continuing with the From & About Asia project by posting my choices for July, the country and region of which are Jordan and Western Asia respectively. So if you are interested in my progress with this project, keep an eye out for next week's post!

10 LGBT+ YouTubers to Watch this Pride Month

Happy Pride! As most of you are probably aware, June is celebrated as LGBT+ Pride Month all around the world, giving those of us in the LGBT+ community an opportunity to celebrate our identity (and giving companies an opportunity to slap a rainbow on their logo and earn some of that sweet, sweet pink money). Like many of us who are living in countries dramatically impacted by the COVID pandemic (i.e. pretty much everywhere), I am spending Pride 2021 cooped up in my home and consuming queer media in an attempt to make up for the lack of real-life events happening near me. This just so happens to be how I have spent almost every single pride since I came out, but I would rather blame it on COVID this year.

But if I can't experience queer community in real life right now, I can still do so through the internet. I have mentioned in a few past posts that I love watching YouTube, with many of my favourite creators being LGBT+. I thought that this month would be the perfect time to draw attention to some of these creators through one of my favourite mediums: a list.

This is by no means an exhaustive list (obviously there are more than 10 LGBT+ people on YouTube...), but these are ten of my absolute favourites - the kind I actually turn notifications on for because I'm genuinely excited when they put out a new video. That's right, I actually clicked the bell button for these people. 

I have done my best to research these YouTubers and make sure I've got their labels and pronouns right, but please do let me know in the comments if I have made a mistake and I will fix it ASAP. In some cases I have just not mentioned their specific identities, because while I know that all of the people on this list identify with the LGBT+ community, I am not sure which letter in specific they fall under. With all that out of the way, let's move on to the YouTubers!

Kat Blaque 

Kat Blaque is one of my all-time favourite YouTubers and probably the YouTuber I have followed most consistently for the longest period of time. While the content and style of her channel has evolved over the years, her honesty and charisma mean that she can make just about any topic interesting. Right now she runs a weekly True Tea podcast where she gives her opinions on a variety of subjects, from pop culture to social issues. She also speaks from her own experience as a Black trans woman, as well as someone who is involved in the BDSM, polyamorous, and goth communities of Los Angeles. Her perspective is always interesting and her sincerity is refreshing.

Tara Mooknee

Like Kat Blaque, I mentioned Tara Mooknee in one of my previous YouTube-related posts: 5 Video Essays I Love. That post mentioned Mooknee's video "The Rise of the Pick Me Girl Meme", which has over one million well-deserved views and which I would still highly recommend. That video is far from the only worthwhile video on the channel, though. Mooknee, a bisexual woman, primarily makes videos responding to things - "things" such as email chain messages, anti-lockdown propaganda, and cows in pop culture. Whatever the subject, Mooknee always manages to make her videos entertaining and absurdly funny while also breaking down the more serious aspects of her topics in an intelligent and insightful way. She also has an amazing fashion sense and an adorable dog named Siggy, so there's no reason not to watch her really.

Khadija Mbowe

Another YouTuber I've only recently started watch but love so far, Khadija Mbowe makes video essays about social issues and media. Their videos are consistently well-structured, researched, and presented, making them a pleasure to watch even when they go in-depth with serious topics. It's sort of hard to believe that they're actually a professional opera singer and not a full-time video essayist, but I suppose some people are just that multitalented! 

CopsHateMoe

CopsHateMoe is a non-binary YouTuber that I can't quite believe is only 19 years old, given how thoughtful and mature their video content is. They are somewhat involved in leftist spaces on social media, and they have previously been critical of those in leftist and LGBT+ spaces who perpetuate harmful behaviours, such as Xanderhal's ableism and Blaire White's take on pretty much everything. They recently became quite well known for their takes on the Kalvin Garrah situation, which has been a big topic among LGBT+ YouTubers of late. Their videos might have less appeal if you don't follow many creators in these spaces and thus have no idea what I'm on about, but if you do understand and haven't yet watched Moe's channel, I highly recommend that you do.

Jessie Gender

Like many of the other creators on this list, Jessie Gender makes commentary and video essays (my tastes are quite particular, as you can probably tell). Her videos tend to focus on geek culture seen through a socially critical lens. Many of these focus on Star Trek (Jessie Gender being a huge Trekkie), but she has covered others forms of media as well, from Marvel to Harry Potter. She often analyses these from her own position as a queer, trans, autistic woman, providing a much-needed perspective in geek fandom. 

MacDoesIt

If you're keen to watch more LGBT+ content but are more interested in watching funny videos than deep-diving video essays, MacDoesIt might be the channel for you. He describes himself as 'a satirical comedic vlogger who creates content that is a cross between “Intelligently funny” an “an organized hot mess.”' You might be familiar with his reaction videos, like his hilarious "Reacting to Anti-Gay Commercials Series". His style is energetic and sometimes chaotic, but in my opinion it's always funny (and judging by the 16 million views on his first anti-gay reaction video, I'm not the only one who thinks so).

Jessica Kellgren-Fozard

Another YouTuber who doesn't focus primarily on video essays, Jessica Kellgren-Fozard is a Deaf, lesbian YouTuber and vintage fashion icon. Her videos are fun and cheerful, including family vlogs (made with her wife, dogs, and newborn baby), vintage style tutorials, LGBT+ history lessons, discussions about disabled and queer identity, and more. Her style is impeccable and her attitude is contagiously upbeat. Fun fact: I actually learnt how to use foam hair rollers from her tutorial videos.

Philosophy Tube

Full disclosure: I didn't actually start watching Philosophy Tube until Abigail Thorn's relatively recent video where she came out as transgender: 'Identity: A Trans Coming Out Story'. That video was so mindblowingly good that I felt compelled to consume more of her work. So far, I have only become more impressed. Focusing primarily on issues of philosophy, as her channel name would imply, Philosophy Tube's videos tend to be highly-produced, aesthetically theatrical videos that are as thought-provoking as they are visually stimulating. I was particularly amazed by her recent video 'Ignorance & Censorship', which more or less made me reconsider my whole life.

Finnjamin Fox

Although his is one of the smaller channels on this list, Finnjamin Fox is definitely worth checking out. He makes sensitive, thoughtful videos about trans issues and his own experience as a trans, bisexual man. Like Tara Mooknee, he also has a very cute dog. The sense of calm and nuance that he brings to his videos makes them especially nice to watch. He always seems to approach his topics with compassion, which I find very admirable.

Samantha Lux

For the final YouTuber on this list, I would like to recommend Samantha Lux. She is a trans woman who creates videos where she reacts to current events and media from a trans perspective, as well as sharing her own experience transitioning. Her videos are well-researched and structured, even though they feel quite informal and fun too. I admire how well she balances humour and positivity with justified criticism of the often-transphobic behaviour she reacts to, and it makes her videos a joy to watch,

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That's all for now! I could have gone on much longer with this list, but I decided that ten was a good number to stop at. I would be very happy to do a part two if that's something people would be interested in, though. My lists are obviously going to focus primarily on channels which appeal to my own specific tastes, so I would love to hear recommendations from other YouTube-viewers on the LGBT+ channels they enjoy. Please feel free to comment if you have any other suggestions of LGBT+ creators to watch this Pride!