Where I talk about the books I read last month, which may or may not be F/F. But don’t worry, I’ll let you know, and I usually read something gay each month.
What’s Wrong With a Snake That Just Wants to Cultivate and Transform?
Cheng Yu
Oof, we’re off to a rough start.
I’m not sure if there’s any redeeming quality to What’s Wrong With a Snake That Just Wants to Cultivate and Transform? besides its translation by the amazing DragonTL and (maybe?) some of the willing sex scenes.
If you stick around long enough, you’ll know I despise manipulative relationships—especially manipulative relationships dressed up to appear romantic to the audience. And What’s Wrong With a Snake That Just Wants to Cultivate and Transform? treads all over this trope.
I was already very uncomfortable with the first twenty chapters, which feature the main character taking advantage of the female lead’s amnesia to attempt to get on her good side. Just, ugh. And of course, the attempted rape (thankfully not by any of the main characters) and the seriously dubious consent were the cherry on top.
I’d like to say it got better, but how do you go up from the absolute abyss? Yet at the eleventh hour, the novel somehow managed to plunge into new depths.
Reading this novel’s final arc felt like tripping on acid. Plot threads were dropped like bowling balls, and the protagonists completely lost their minds. Any remaining semblance of cohesion which made up the plot was completely shot out the window. IYKYK.
I don’t care how in love the protagonists are, but letting your lover believe you have amnesia after you recover your memories so you can maintain the status quo is not only selfish but F-tier communication. And this novel somehow manages to do it twice, with both leads.
Thanks, I hate it.
⭐ (1/5)
Monstress
Marjorie Liu & Sana Takeda
I’ve never been a big fan of gritty dark fantasy, but seeing all of its accolades, I was excited to read Monstress anyway. You know what people say about Dead Dove: Don’t Eat? Well, I should’ve taken note.
Monstress is set in a post-war steampunk fantasy world divided between humans, ruled by a circle of fanatical Cumaea witches, and the animalistic Arcanics, influenced by the Ancients. Our protagonist Maika Halfwolf is an Arcanic possessed by violence and trauma—and a literal demon god who hungers for flesh.
Marjorie Liu is an extremely talented writer, so I’ve no doubt that all of Monstress’ gore and despair is going somewhere, but I don’t have the energy for it. Maika starts out the series so miserable and callous that she’s constantly hurting herself and the people around her. Eighteen issues in, and she’s still mostly the same—except she’s developed a smidge more self-awareness.
A likeable supportive cast might’ve helped, but I didn’t find myself falling in love with any of the major characters, not even the optimistic wolf Arcanic Kippa. Their personalities feel constructed from character archetypes, their motives not interesting enough for me to care.
Reading Monstress, I can admire how Liu’s gritty, realistic worldbuilding paves way for a uniquely Asian-rooted, matriarchal, and queer-normative society—but I can also admit it’s not for me. Monstress skews a little too close to the nihilism and Machiavellianism of real history for me to feel like I’m falling into a fantasy.
DNF’d at issue #18
Fine Print
So I’ve been looking forward to Fine Print for years now, but I wanted to let it marinate until there was enough substance for me to really chew on. With the release of volume two this year…I knew it was time. And it did not disappoint.
According to Stejpan Sejic, the inspiration for Fine Print came from two separate joke ideas: One, an asexual woman summons a sex demon to explain to her what’s so good about sex, but he fails and they become roommates, and two, a woman tries to make a contract with the greatest sex incarnate, but it’s a contested title and she ends up the referee.
So yeah, as you might imagine (from the cover), there’s a lot of sex involved.
At the center is Lauren Thomas, a former superstar model and current disaster human. Her existence is a black hole which draws others to her like moths to a flame, so they have to deal with her bullshit too. On opposite sides of the court are Leilah and Thadeus, two succubus who have hated each other for millennia.
Leilah is definitely not in love with her secret forbidden sex partner Heureca. Thadeus is definitely not hiding his relationship with his sexy ex-cupid boyfriend Vain (succubi are not allowed to love). And Lauren is definitely not trying to forget the gap in her heart left by her one true love.
It’s horny, it’s dramatic, it’s gay, and it has that signature Stjepan Sejic humor. In other words, it’s fucking great.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ (5/5)
The Many Deaths of Laila Starr
Ram V & Filipe Andrade
Once upon a time, Laila Starr was the goddess of death. Then a baby was born with the fate of discovering immortality. So she was fired.
Upon descending to the mortal realm, the goddess of death was determined to choke this baby which would one day make her irrelevant to death. But she found that—strangely—she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
And so began the many lives (and deaths) of Laila Starr.
At its core, The Many Deaths of Laila Starr is about what it means to be human, and how as humans, we are defined by our mortality. Death learns this the hard way, but she also learns it the most ephemeral way: By walking among us and sharing in our suffering and joy.
Death’s fate is tied to the life of one Darius Shah, a brilliant boy who experiences too much at too young of an age. As Darius grows, Death grows besides him. Until eventually, they finally meet in the same place.
The Many Deaths of Laila Starr is beautiful. And powerful. It is a reminder that we are always dying, but also that we are always living, that it is only in our fear of death we strive to be remembered, but that our lives must be about more than legacy.
I categorized The Many Deaths of Laila Starr as Side F/F because there is one panel where Death kisses a woman at a club. That’s it. But you should read it anyway for everything else.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ (4.5/5)
Other
Yumi and the Nightmare Painter
Brandon Sanderson
Sometimes, a book is so brilliant that you wish you could’ve thought of it yourself. Yumi and the Nightmare Painter is modern fantasy legend Brandon Sanderson’s homage to his favorite anime-inspired themes, but it’s also so much more.
Directly influenced by Your Name, Yumi and the Nightmare Painter follows Yumi…and Nightmare, a girl and boy from two very different worlds who one day find themselves possessing the body of the other.
But in a brilliant move, Sanderson keeps Yumi and Nightmare together, by having one hover as the ghost of the other, forced to watch as a stranger-turned-into-something-more absolutely ruins their life right in front of them.
What I love most about Yumi and the Nightmare Painter is its commitment to take its themes seriously—but never itself too seriously. Yumi stacks rock for a living, Painter is a dweeb. They’re both nineteen. They mean well, but they sometimes fuck up.
And yeah, getting into that bath knowing the ghost of the person whose body you’re in can see you is awkward as hell. And embarrassing. You might go through some learning pains.
But Yumi and the Nightmare Painter is also relentlessly optimistic. It has a pure heart. It isn’t scared into cynicism. It’s a love letter to the beauty of creation, a reminder that art has no intrinsic value, only the value that we give it. And I give it a glowing five stars.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ (5/5)
hhaha here comes the scathing review of Snake. Ive been meaning to check out Yumi, used to read alot of sanderson back in the day.
i simply spoke my truth 🫠 yumi is amazing, easily my favorite sanderson novel, highly recommend!