myqueeryear-blog

[myqueeryear-blog]

“It’s the everyday wear and tear that brings out the green in me. I begin to hate you, hate you and I love you, that’s a fucked mess—but I start to resent you for all the things that make you strong, that enable you to stand up under that daily erosion. I begin to hate myself because I’m not like you.”

— Rita Mae Brown, Rubyfruit Jungle

[myqueeryear-blog]

January’s Book: Ruby Fruit Jungle

Status: Finished

Holy shit. in true ramble fashion I am going to start off with the moment i appreciated most-- Molly explaining the namesake of the book-- Ruby-Fruit jungle is just a pretty word for pussy. I love that. People were buying a book called pussy in 1974, and still are to this day. Wow, a paperback queer legend.

I am going to examine the book as each topic comes to mind. First I rate it 4.6 out of 5 stars. It loses points in some of the nonchalant incestuous moments, and when Molly goes to sleep with Polina’s fantasy freak. Basically the end. But I absolutely adores how this book captures the human condition of a marginalized voice. Molly was such a fore-front character, it is hard to believe she could ever be ignored or cast aside. At first that irritated me, how violently stubborn she was, but the more I read the more I came to realize it was with good reason. She never gave into that self pity. That tiny cesspool of self doubt a lot of us queer folk have a tendency to give into-- the thought that there really is something wrong with you. Even in 2020, I find myself watering down the reality of who I am and the things I love to be more palatable to society, and I found myself resenting Molly for having the attitude I’ve always wanted and admired.

This book was the slap I needed to check my own bias. Molly had to be as outgoing and fearless as she was, because she lived in a world so unaccepting... she had to push back with everything she had because all of her defiance would simply rock the boat. She needed to be like oil to the country’s water so that this book could raise hundreds of thousands of queer fists in the air in solidarity.

Outside of just the queer aspect, Rita Mae Brown did an outstanding job capturing humanity in even the least likable people. I was most impressed with Carrie’s redemption (or revelation) at the end. On the same hand, the true and honest exploration of bigotry truly hit home. Homophobia isn’t always an out and out hatred-- like how Connie defended Molly but retracted herself, or how Leota blatantly denied ever having feelings for Molly after sharing such a pivotal childhood discovery with her. Homophobia is just another compartment of fear that is expressed towards the unknown. Its the gaping hole in the bridge between empathy and ignorance. It was truly an honor and pleasure to read this book.

[myqueeryear-blog]

First Book: Ruby-Fruit Jungle

Page: 70

Initial thoughts? The writing is very conversational, which i usually find irritating but there’s something super necessary about it in this novel. Like in order to truly fuck with Molly you gotta know what’s going on in her brain.

I think I really needed her labeless life right now since I’m struggling with my own. Rita Mae brown would be so proud of me, look at me, sitting here, trying to grab my own freedom by the balls, taking a page from old Molly’s book.

[myqueeryear-blog]

hello, welcome

greetings and salutations! Welcome to my incredibly informal blog where I will be documenting my literary journey.

you may be wondering what journey i am partaking in-- there are millions of books circulating the world and millions of stories I could follow, but what road are we going to wind down? Well, I’m gonna read about the queers.

Lesbians. Mostly lesbians.

Why the lesbians specifically? Well here’s a slight backstory:

i came out as bisexual in the sixth grade. I was twelve and i wasn’t super sure what I was feeling, but I knew I was feeling girls. then I grew up and through the learning experiences I’ve had in my life (which I’m sure will be discussed in further posts) I came out as a lesbian my senior year of high school. It has been equal parts freeing as it has been confusing-- ‘it’ being the complexities of sexuality. But I realized why books weren’t aligning with me anymore-- I couldn’t relate to the characters.

Throughout my adolescence I was a huge reader. I was so invested in other people’s lives and other worlds so separate from my own, it’s no wonder I was socially stunted. I also got pretty bored with reading when I hit freshman year of high school.

i couldn’t find a genre that would do it for me. I plowed through a good chunk of YA literature-- interesting, but I found myself rapidly outgrowing it. I was lowkey pissed since I wanted to be one of those people that are hip to the kids forever. No Bueno. I attempted romance, but that was short lived-- I felt it read like a 2014 One Direction fanfiction copy and pasted straight from wattpad. Then I got really into what I thought was a niche trauma of European based World War II stories, but turns out theres a shitload. I read about fifteen before they all started to flow into each other. By junior year I had put the books down. 

So through this year, 2020, the continuation of my freshman year of college, I will read one Lesbian book a month. I’m really hoping this will help me learn more about myself and the world around me. Also I miss reading.

later, Victoria