I’ve never seen the full movie but I felt like the overall framing device was a lot like Julie & Julia, namely the bits with Julia Child are so much more engaging than the bits with Amy Adams, luminous actress though she is. It’s told in interwoven flashbacks that aren’t hard to follow, and the plot flow remains linear and easy to track. Someone told me it was an epistolary book, and I clearly misheard because it’s not at all. It’s not at all–it goes down very easily. So back to the main gist: I definitely thought this book was going to be a Big Read. All to say, there’s a way to properly write about identities that aren’t your own, and unless someone has a rationale for why I’m wrong I think Reid has done it.Īnother issue shall remain within spoiler tags: Īnother quick spoiler issue:
But I also feel a bit weird (one might say…queer?) knowing that I was taken through the wringer by an author who isn’t part of the selfsame community that is being highlighted. I don’t believe that authors should only write about their experiences. In an interview with bi.org, Reid talks about wanting to use the platform she has (a multi-book deal, an audience) to elevate queer stories, and the research that went into accurately depicting the Golden Era of Hollywood and all the associated muck that was swept under the rug. But then again, bicultural ol’ me found Evelyn’s successful assimilation and then sadness with said success very realistic. I didn’t check midway through, but there were parts–I’m thinking of a passage where Monique was discussing her to her biracial identity, very near the start of the story, that rung a bit…odd, just as someone who’s bicultural. It’s not #ownvoices, a few times over–Reid (Jenkins Reid?) is a white, straight author (who, by her own admission, is not always very feminine presenting) writing about biracial, queer characters. What is this book not? I think it might be more helpful to frame what I did like that way.
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