2.5 🌟 We should all be feminists, including the writer.  Short and accessible read but clearly missing intersectional feminist perspective as noted by 🔗 moski, 🔗 mysteriousgap, and 🔗 crybabybea.  For those who want more, A Short History of Trans Misogyny by Gill-Peterson might be of interest.

Stone Butch Blues is queer/trans canon for a reason. It remains - frustratingly - an extremely poignant and familiar read in the so-called US in 2026.

Inter-generational found family / union organizing / solidarity across difference / butch, femme, transmasc and transfem communities / police violence / isolation / coming of age and aging / almost guaranteed to make you actually cry

I started this book a long time ago and was scared off by the pretty intense violence that Jess and her community face in the beginning of the book. I will say that the graphic on-page violence definitely lessens after the first few chapters and I’m so glad I came back to it.

This story is told through the first person narrative of Jess, a white, working class, Jewish butch woman/"he-she," over the first 4 decades of her life. The long time span, wide variety of characters and situations she encounters, and Feinburg's intimate writing style make this book feel deeply personal and emotional.

One of the core messages of this book is solidarity across difference - Jess' school as a kid, her many different warehouse jobs, and butch/femme bars are all key sites through which solidarity is explored. I found that Feinberg did a decent job with writing characters outside of her experience - there are many notable Black, Indigenous, femme, transfem, and cis man characters that make notable impacts on Jess' life (and vice-versa).

However, there were a few ways that I felt Feinberg fell short in writing across difference that I feel are important to point out. First, there are so so many characters in this novel that come in and out of Jess' life and of course Feinberg did that for a reason and it does very much help with the story telling, breadth, and isolation that Jess consistently deals with. However, the majority of the characters that remain in Jess’ life through the story are white. It can feel like, though many of the Black and Indigenous characters do have their own narratives/characters/arcs/lives, that in a way they do serve specific pedagogical functions in the story (though you could argue that for every character). I also think this is the most likely way that this character's life would have evolved, so I can't fault Feinberg much. However, there are some notable events that happen that I won't name due to spoilers that could have used a little more time and care especially given the race dynamics at play.

The biggest issue I see with this book is how Feinberg discusses Native communities and ideas. I was unsure and sometimes more uncomfortable than others when reading. I will say that for a book written by a white person and published in 1993, it is notable that Feinberg brings many Native people in the narrative, uses their actual Tribe names as opposed to those given to them by the US gov't, and names whose land much of the story takes place on. These are all reasons why this did not lead me to detract from my 5 star rating.

After I finished reading Stone Butch Blues, my partner told me that Mark Rifkin had written about it in his book When Did Indians Become Straight?, so I read his analysis and definitely recommend the essay to anyone reading this book. One of Rifkin’s main points about this book is captured well in this quote: “The novel’s construction of politically progressive collectivity relies on calling forth the tribal while hollowing it out, including erasing the persistent presence and political struggles of Six Nations peoples.” (Rifkin, 246). Interestingly, Rifkin reads Ruth’s father as being Seneca - if that’s true, she has the most page time of any BIPOC person in the book. Rifkin doesn’t discuss much about Jess’ continual invocation of her prized ring that was gifted to her by Diné women who partially raised her until she was 4, to protect her on her path as a non-binary person. I felt uncomfortable at times with the focus on the ring and the non-specific, one-directional spiritual protection it represents.

There is so much in this text that I’d love to discuss more but this is already by far my longest review on here. I’ll end with PUT THIS BOOK ON A QUEST!

Between Two Rivers is a fascinating look into Mesopotamia, the fertile crescent, and the source of many instrumental human inventions and developments. The author centers this historical survey on archaeological finds and provides helpful context into how these pieces fit into global history and how understanding of these cultures has shifted over time.

The strongest parts of this book to me were the focuses in Al-Rashid's specialty: ancient science. I loved learning about the scientific, mathematical, and philosophical advances of the Mesopotamian cultures. The religious aspects were also very interesting, and it's humbling to consider how then and now, we humans just want to make sense of a very chaotic world. There was a repetitive "the ancients are just like us!" beat to this book. I appreciate what the author was trying to get at, that women of ancient times also struggle with childbearing and motherhood for example, but Al-Rashid didn't go deep enough in my opinion to differentiate this thesis.

I had a rough idea of where ancient Mesopotamia was in Southwest Asia and the author does go into detail, but it might be helpful to search up some maps while reading. I would have loved for some helpful maps and illustrations to be included with this book. Also, it wasn't discussed in this book, but it is deeply saddening to imagine all of the archaeological treasures that have been lost, destroyed, or looted in this area. Reading this in July 2026 when the US and Israel continue to provoke war in and against Iran, it's sobering to consider what could be lost.

The author offers some lovely and poignant personal moments and experiences throughout the book, and it should be noted that (in context and thoughtfully) the author describes and discusses miscarriage. If you are looking for an approachable introduction to Mesopotamian history, I think you will enjoy this book. I look forward to reading more books by Al-Rashid!