Since their conception (author defines what is a queer bookshop at the start of the book), queer bookshops have provided the world, and I say “world” due to trickle-down effect that it had, otherwise I too might still lack said queer books in my shelves, with: space and time to organize, organizers themselves, a safe place to be, a place to discover yourself, and such fine people like Steve the Hungarian assistant who, when asked if there’s anything cheap in the store, replied simply – “me”. Out of this sprouted and grew various movements, fights, marches, and, yes, the first organized Pride that wasn’t a riot. These people fought for all vulnerable, queer or straight, and provided what resources they could, from a corner to sleep in, a cup of coffee, a cheap book to read, to education, banned books, and vital resources during AIDS epidemic, leaflets, research. And this book too serves the same exact purpose, brimming with information, stories, and names I honestly didn’t expect to see.

my farther thoughts, not necessarily relevant as a review: EN - Wannabekingpin; LT - Vakaris

Just about finished reading Marsha: The Joy and Defiance of Marsha P. Johnson by Tourmaline, and I’ve a few thoughts, as well as a burning curiosity to hear yours. On the Stonewall Riot, the riot that happened before, Marsha’s input and input of other trans women, and what followed.

I do not want to per se discuss Marsha herself. She was, in her own right, famous back then, and is even more famous now. And if I can rely on this book, she’d be happy to know she left a dent like that in the time and space from her birth to today. But it’s hard to speak of this book alone when there’s so many glaringly important issues mentioned. Such as discrediting of Marsha’s legacy and, in my personal belief, trans people’s legacy in the fight for LGBTQ rights; The betrayals from within and without; And the life as trans person back then vs. now.

The book has shown me a very motherly side of Marsha. And the side of her who wanted to be a bright star. The flower child Marsha. The Marsha who stayed with people and cared for them even in the throes of AIDS, contracting it herself in the process. Marsha who, whether you believe in her being the first to throw the stone and start the Stonewall Riot or not, has been such a prominent figure that here we are, talking about her. And, Marsha, whose murder has been dismissed, because despite her prominence, she was still just a trans woman. Do we care more nowadays? How many trans people have died, killed, brutally? Have you seen the cheers online, misgendering them, deadnaming them, celebrating their deaths? Usually, the same people are quick to tell others off for not showing appropriate level of grief for deaths of prominent hateful figures. Funny life, isn’t it?

The book itself, this essay-style history of Marsha, feels like a flowery dream with literal sequences of “I had a dream about this place, went there, and found an answer as if called there, spiritually”, which I find very jarring in what’s supposed to be a biography. Don’t get me wrong, I do believe it happened, but it’s such a “source: I had a feeling” moment that I will rather not dwell on it too long. In addition, the text itself is a bit of a mess, too many moving parts, conflicting testimonies scattered, where lack of framework, aside from the loosely inserted explanations, forced me to self-correct. It creates a dissonance where I begin doubting what I’ve read before, hence why I’m talking about this book a month after I planned to. Then again, such is the topic, isn’t it? Many a trans person had to and still has to learn to live in utter chaos. How else can life be when your own communities abandon you just after you fought for their right to be as they are?

If you’re an ally reading, or having read this book still don’t understand why Pride Parades sometimes (often) request there to be no cops, or speak against it, at least, I highly recommend The Rainbow Ain’t Never Been Enuf by Kaila Adia Story. It’s the most beautifully inclusive book you’ll ever hold in your hands.

If you want my farther thoughts (as they are extensive), please find them here: EN - Wannabekingpin; LT - Vakaris

“You are not your body, none of us are.”

Swole: The Making of Men and the Meaning of Muscle by Michael Andor Brodeur is one of those works that reminds me why I need to seek out more books by LGBTQ. It’s the gentle strength, mixing with an indirect permission to be yourself, to take the “shallow” path if it’s the authentic one. And a detailed tale on why physical aesthetics became thought of as “shallow”, despite demanding so much that a lot of people simply fail to achieve their goals.

The book is not an academically researched take on men’s gender. Rather, it’s a cautionary tale of culture that shapes the various facets of masculinity. From pop culture, America’s best export: soft power (temporarily former best export). To philosophy on what makes man a man. How the idea got perverted and twisted by cis/het men’s insecurities, and how it hurt men themselves, creating this true-toxic and false, shallow facet. Author uses his own personal tales to showcase what issues toxic men, and in turn society, have created, and where’s the exit out of this trap. My personal favorite, as a trans man, was the one on body dysmorphia/dysphoria. Something manosphere would tell you is a woman’s or LGBTQ folks thing, whilst men are getting body image issues before our very eyes. Eating disorders, fractured bones, looksmaxxing, all can and often are life-ruining obsessions, and lead to slow dying in silence. Whom are you going to ask for help if all the men you know are the same men who put you in this position, and you’ve been taught to hate or dislike women, even if deep down you know they’d understand and likely help?

If anything, this fine buff man will give you permission and encouragement to be authentically you (inclusively too). Author provides an almost meditative guide for building your personhood up, because there is no truth like being true to yourself. And this too entails as much effort as exercising in the gym. Because every step of the way, out of the dark cold woods, you might hate to face yourself, and figure out whether the truth is yours or, literally, someone else’s.