This is a historical dual-timeline sci-fi which tells the story of Griffon’s, a trans man’s, trans parents (Zaffre and Etoine) histories, through revolution and addiction, romance, and adoption of Griffon from his abusive father, as described by a diary written by Etoine in prison.
As I said while reading this book, this is a rare futuristic Rome sci-fi (written by a man, but that’s almost redundant) where I have no reservations, likely because while many use this backdrop to critique fascism, many end up (intentionally or unintentionally) validating aspects of fascism at the same time in the way that they endorse hierarchy and dominance as part of a patriarchal power fantasy.
And Etoine is a great foil to that male fantasy, he’s flamboyant, loving art and high fashion. He openly and frequently expresses emotions other than those which are male-coded, like anger, and in many ways he’s pitiful—not someone who prompts are or respect in “running away” from conflict (not wanting to die for the revolution) and in his alcohol dependence (which he very realistically cannot stop through sheer force of will). Griffon, in his consideration for others, frequent apologizing as a remnant of parental abuse, and enjoyment of female-coded hobbies like cooking and cleaning (also both a result of parental abuse) also challenges the male power fantasy, and yet together with Etoine, proves to be a lovable and compelling character despite this (despite patriarchy arguing this should not be the case).
This is a book whose whole purpose is as a critique of fascism, hierarchy, and hegemonic masculinity—the last of which many similar works are afraid to challenge as they threaten the male power fantasy many are founded upon. It uses the aesthetics of pre-collapse societies—it reminds me of just at the end of the Roman oligarchy (Roman republic) or the fall of the French Republic (and rise of Bonaparte—another period which looked back to Rome in aesthetics). As with any fragile society, at peak rise of discontent (and thus potential for social revolt of the lower classes), social changes also forebode the equal threat of rising authoritarian nationalism (fascism) which appropriates the same working class discontent into a fear of the other—a threat from within and also from abroad.
In this way, Zaffre and Etoine’s transness (very much an other in this society but especially a threat fascism mobilizes against today) and their revolutionary participation (purposeful on the part of Zaffre, and unintentional on the part of Etoine) are one and the same. (And in fact this becomes clearer with Etoine whose very existence as a flamboyant trans painter gets him crosswise with an oligarch and labeled a revolutionary—because his trans existence is itself radical.)
Similar to other books I’ve read this year (including Ray Nayler’s Where the Axe is Buried), it explores the competing values of happiness/a contented life and adhering to your morals/being a revolutionary, in the sometimes orthogonal goals of Zaffre and Etoine (with Griffon caught in between).
In Where the Axe is Buried, Nayler discusses the reality that contrary to popular belief, which argues that increasing individual freedoms progresses with time, under surveillance model of understanding empire, the highest freedom is often possible off the pages of history (or in the hic sunt dracones of the map of history), where the eyes of empire (and thus its restrictive laws of what you can do or be) cannot see. Etoine appreciates this too, becoming a house painter after his first stint in prison, and arguing that he and Zaffre should live an unremarkable life where they can experience full trans joy. In contrast, Zaffre holds the competing desire of wanting a better future for her peers and other trans individuals, and despite her significant (and sometimes disabling) mental health concerns, is willing to compromise her own joy and happily ever after for a chance at a better world.
This is a historical dual-timeline sci-fi which tells the story of Griffon’s, a trans man’s, trans parents (Zaffre and Etoine) histories, through revolution and addiction, romance, and adoption of Griffon from his abusive father, as described by a diary written by Etoine in prison.
As I said while reading this book, this is a rare futuristic Rome sci-fi (written by a man, but that’s almost redundant) where I have no reservations, likely because while many use this backdrop to critique fascism, many end up (intentionally or unintentionally) validating aspects of fascism at the same time in the way that they endorse hierarchy and dominance as part of a patriarchal power fantasy.
And Etoine is a great foil to that male fantasy, he’s flamboyant, loving art and high fashion. He openly and frequently expresses emotions other than those which are male-coded, like anger, and in many ways he’s pitiful—not someone who prompts are or respect in “running away” from conflict (not wanting to die for the revolution) and in his alcohol dependence (which he very realistically cannot stop through sheer force of will). Griffon, in his consideration for others, frequent apologizing as a remnant of parental abuse, and enjoyment of female-coded hobbies like cooking and cleaning (also both a result of parental abuse) also challenges the male power fantasy, and yet together with Etoine, proves to be a lovable and compelling character despite this (despite patriarchy arguing this should not be the case).
This is a book whose whole purpose is as a critique of fascism, hierarchy, and hegemonic masculinity—the last of which many similar works are afraid to challenge as they threaten the male power fantasy many are founded upon. It uses the aesthetics of pre-collapse societies—it reminds me of just at the end of the Roman oligarchy (Roman republic) or the fall of the French Republic (and rise of Bonaparte—another period which looked back to Rome in aesthetics). As with any fragile society, at peak rise of discontent (and thus potential for social revolt of the lower classes), social changes also forebode the equal threat of rising authoritarian nationalism (fascism) which appropriates the same working class discontent into a fear of the other—a threat from within and also from abroad.
In this way, Zaffre and Etoine’s transness (very much an other in this society but especially a threat fascism mobilizes against today) and their revolutionary participation (purposeful on the part of Zaffre, and unintentional on the part of Etoine) are one and the same. (And in fact this becomes clearer with Etoine whose very existence as a flamboyant trans painter gets him crosswise with an oligarch and labeled a revolutionary—because his trans existence is itself radical.)
Similar to other books I’ve read this year (including Ray Nayler’s Where the Axe is Buried), it explores the competing values of happiness/a contented life and adhering to your morals/being a revolutionary, in the sometimes orthogonal goals of Zaffre and Etoine (with Griffon caught in between).
In Where the Axe is Buried, Nayler discusses the reality that contrary to popular belief, which argues that increasing individual freedoms progresses with time, under surveillance model of understanding empire, the highest freedom is often possible off the pages of history (or in the hic sunt dracones of the map of history), where the eyes of empire (and thus its restrictive laws of what you can do or be) cannot see. Etoine appreciates this too, becoming a house painter after his first stint in prison, and arguing that he and Zaffre should live an unremarkable life where they can experience full trans joy. In contrast, Zaffre holds the competing desire of wanting a better future for her peers and other trans individuals, and despite her significant (and sometimes disabling) mental health concerns, is willing to compromise her own joy and happily ever after for a chance at a better world.

craunch_the_marmoset commented...
7w
I’m so glad that you enjoyed it!
This is a historical dual-timeline sci-fi which tells the story of Griffon’s, a trans man’s, trans parents (Zaffre and Etoine) histories, through revolution and addiction, romance, and adoption of Griffon from his abusive father, as described by a diary written by Etoine in prison.
As I said while reading this book, this is a rare futuristic Rome sci-fi (written by a man, but that’s almost redundant) where I have no reservations, likely because while many use this backdrop to critique fascism, many end up (intentionally or unintentionally) validating aspects of fascism at the same time in the way that they endorse hierarchy and dominance as part of a patriarchal power fantasy.
And Etoine is a great foil to that male fantasy, he’s flamboyant, loving art and high fashion. He openly and frequently expresses emotions other than those which are male-coded, like anger, and in many ways he’s pitiful—not someone who prompts are or respect in “running away” from conflict (not wanting to die for the revolution) and in his alcohol dependence (which he very realistically cannot stop through sheer force of will). Griffon, in his consideration for others, frequent apologizing as a remnant of parental abuse, and enjoyment of female-coded hobbies like cooking and cleaning (also both a result of parental abuse) also challenges the male power fantasy, and yet together with Etoine, proves to be a lovable and compelling character despite this (despite patriarchy arguing this should not be the case).
This is a book whose whole purpose is as a critique of fascism, hierarchy, and hegemonic masculinity—the last of which many similar works are afraid to challenge as they threaten the male power fantasy many are founded upon. It uses the aesthetics of pre-collapse societies—it reminds me of just at the end of the Roman oligarchy (Roman republic) or the fall of the French Republic (and rise of Bonaparte—another period which looked back to Rome in aesthetics). As with any fragile society, at peak rise of discontent (and thus potential for social revolt of the lower classes), social changes also forebode the equal threat of rising authoritarian nationalism (fascism) which appropriates the same working class discontent into a fear of the other—a threat from within and also from abroad.
In this way, Zaffre and Etoine’s transness (very much an other in this society but especially a threat fascism mobilizes against today) and their revolutionary participation (purposeful on the part of Zaffre, and unintentional on the part of Etoine) are one and the same. (And in fact this becomes clearer with Etoine whose very existence as a flamboyant trans painter gets him crosswise with an oligarch and labeled a revolutionary—because his trans existence is itself radical.)
Similar to other books I’ve read this year (including Ray Nayler’s Where the Axe is Buried), it explores the competing values of happiness/a contented life and adhering to your morals/being a revolutionary, in the sometimes orthogonal goals of Zaffre and Etoine (with Griffon caught in between).
In Where the Axe is Buried, Nayler discusses the reality that contrary to popular belief, which argues that increasing individual freedoms progresses with time, under surveillance model of understanding empire, the highest freedom is often possible off the pages of history (or in the hic sunt dracones of the map of history), where the eyes of empire (and thus its restrictive laws of what you can do or be) cannot see. Etoine appreciates this too, becoming a house painter after his first stint in prison, and arguing that he and Zaffre should live an unremarkable life where they can experience full trans joy. In contrast, Zaffre holds the competing desire of wanting a better future for her peers and other trans individuals, and despite her significant (and sometimes disabling) mental health concerns, is willing to compromise her own joy and happily ever after for a chance at a better world.


craunch_the_marmoset commented...
12w
I’ll be interested to hear your thoughts when you do. Do you mind sharing which book and why for help with planning my own TBR? Spoilers aren’t really a thing for me personally, so I’m happy to go into a book with background.