🥶 Icy, unforgiving winter environment 🌎 Nationalism, politics on a semi-global scale 🚀 Alien world / space-travel as a plot device

“The Left Hand of Darkness” was a chunky mix of examining gender norms, nationalism, and religion / culture clash, all set against an alien language & environment (although the latter was very reminiscent of Iceland in parts). A worthwhile read, but I wouldn’t widely recommend it - bit of a slog until Chapters 6 - 8, almost esoteric by default. Through it all I was reminded why the books of yesteryear remain relevant today. And just as importantly, love of humankind and the hope for a brighter future for us all is a noble endeavor, a light in the darkness balanced by knowledge of what it takes to get there.

🍜 Discussions over food, in Tokyo 🏠 Found family & finding home where you are 🌈 Queer love, but also loving yourself

Reflective story about an estranged mother and son, unnamed throughout the piece, and how their lives shaped them. From the book blurb I really thought the cat & conflict with the brother (in reference to him being homophobic) were going to be more central to the story, but it largely revolved around the mother & the son's relationships, both past and present. The stylistic choice to not include speech marks also threw me for a loop at first, but as I became immersed in the story it flowed well. It was like a stream of consciousness, the thoughts & dialogue of the characters blending together. There were a lot of heavy themes throughout - homophobia, the loss of a loved one to AIDS, grief, loneliness, depression, suicidal thoughts - although none seemed to dominate the novel and were woven into the moral of finding connection despite the circumstances above all.

Ocean Vuong's quote on the back of my copy put it well - "care, humor, tenderness, and an embrace of human beings at their most vulnerable" - as well as Rachel Khong's "it's the rare novel that manages to be funny and sad and honest all at once -- awake to the mundane miracles of our lives." There's an attention to the little things: the meals, the street life, the environmental surroundings. The son seems to go through sexual partners on a whim, but there's often a moment of appreciation in these interactions, committing something about the experience to memory. He's chasing or running from something, but doesn't let that fully distract from the journey itself. The found family of the son was particularly touching: the gay bar bros, his students, whatever was going on with Taku & his family. It was messy & wonderful.

It was a good piece about people & relationships. Like the mother says near the end, "Listen, you should trust yourself. Whatever that means to you. Whatever that looks like. Trust yourself to know yourself. The ones who matter will follow you. And you'll know who they are when you arrive."