whew This is a BOOK, y’all.
The year is 2020, and COVID-19 doesn’t exist. In 2000, Al Gore became president, declaring a War on Climate Change and ushering in 20 years of Democrat control. Infrastructure is totally green, and carbon taxes keep it that way.
Sounds great, right? NOPE. Instead of a crapsack neo-conservative dystopia the USA this book exists in is a neo-liberal crapsackery in which Maddie, a young white eXvangelical teacher at a Black high school, is searching for love and meaning. She finds it in The Lab, a run-down, filthy community art space. She finds it in the colorful group of artists and fringe activists that hang out there, in her band Bunny Bloodlust and the queer awakening inspired by sexy lead guitarist Red and the lively energy xe possesses.
When The Lab becomes one of many victims in a campaign to destroy poor Black neighborhoods to build green hyperways to the subways, the entire community fights back. A simple campaign balloons into a nationwide movement called The Free People’s Village. By taking part, Maddie learns that while the world may not revolve around her, she still has a place in it.
There’s a lot of moving parts in this novel, but they fit together almost perfectly. The science, the politics and the art mesh into a perfect illustration of American trap, showing how it squeezes everyone no matter who’s in charge. Maddie is every well-intentioned nice white lady I’ve ever met, surrounded by a collection of multicultural, multi-ethnic, socially liberated, systemically oppressed, often queer snarky neopunks with enormous libraries, big politics, and no fucks to give. I know these people. I am these people, sometimes. I love them, both in fiction and in real life. It was wonderful to see them on the page in all their spiky meaningful glory, even if their stories sometimes hit a little too close to painful home truths at times. Much like in real life, not everybody gets a happy ending. Even the funkiest young activist ages out of frontline duty–if they’re lucky. Watching Maddie become a part of the crew and realize how loved she is, is a joy, even if the sweeping social change she and her friends hope for never really happens in the way that they want. By the time I got to the last chapter I was deeply in my feelings–if nothing else, this book is a great reminder that there’s hope for all us old wounded activists after all.
I’m not giving you much detail about this book because going into it mostly blind and unwrapping all its complexity was part of the pleasure of reading it. I highly recommend you do the same.
Neopronoun love and cockroach spray to The Free People’s Village.
(So here’s the deal, fellow readers; I read a book I hate about two months ago and it just killed my reviewing mojo entirely. Guess I should stick to the rivers and the lakes that I’m used to from here on out. Anyway, I’m back, and grateful that you’re here reading. Always remember that if you want to support this blog, the best way to do so is giving the Equal Opportunity Bookshop a visit and purchasing a book, which will result in a commission being paid. If you can’t do that, click around a read a few more reviews, then visit your local library. Whatever you do, make sure it ends with you reading something good. Peace!)
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