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BOOK REVIEW: ‘In the Shallows’ by Tanya Byrne

Brighton-based author Tanya Byrne‘s In the Shallows isn’t just a story – it’s an emotional journey that speaks directly to the heart of young lesbians and the wider LGBTQ+ community. Set against the backdrop of Brighton, this slow-burn sapphic second-chance love story delves deep into themes of longing, loss, and the enigmatic power of memory.

With careful writing from the start, we are drawn into the mystery surrounding Nico, a girl rescued from the sea on New Year’s Day with no memory of her past. This miraculous recovery of someone thought lost offers a gripping narrative that explores the profound impact of forgetting and remembering on our sense of self.

Through Nico’s journey of self-re-discovery, Byrne invites us to contemplate the complexities of identity and the ways in which memory shapes our understanding of who we are, and those who keep those memories, and who cherish, chisel and craft those memories can also affect the way we remember who, and what, we are.

This is a YA novel, so it’s full of drama and passion, toxic relationships, immaturity, longing, emotional struggles and family trying to do the best for their emergent adults, and also parents set right against accepting what their teenagers are. Mara, a young woman grappling with her own demons and haunted by the memory of her lost love, has spent time grieving for Nico and acknowledging her unrequited love and, in her own clumsy way, finding a way to move on.

Mara is more than a touch obsessed about Nico, in an unhealthy doormat kinda way, a teenage crush of an unhealthy kind, Nico appears to be unaware of what Mara feels, and distances herself more and more before abruptly ghosting her just before her accident. When fate reunites Mara and Nico, their connection ignites a spark of hope amidst the desperately grasped shadows of uncertainty.

Byrne beautifully captures Mara’s hopes of an opportunity to actually experience love with this changed Nico and the sheer joy of finding someone believed to be lost forever. It’s a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the transformative power of love to heal even the deepest wounds.

It’s also – from my older experienced queer perspective – a testament to daft teenagers, selfish undeserving focuses of desire and the way they’re obsessed with people who do them no good whatsoever. We all have that Ex who is really a ‘Why?’… but hey Kweeine the book ain’t written for you, so shhhhhh.

But just as Mara and Nico’s relationship begins to blossom, a looming twist threatens to unravel everything they hold dear. Nico’s gradual recollection of her past introduces a new layer of complexity and intrigue, leaving Mara to confront the truth behind Nico’s accident and previous behaviours. This compares and contrasts two very different types of parenting, giving us insight into the behaviours of the people who are supposed to hold our interest dear to their hearts.

As secrets are unveiled and alliances tested, In the Shallows builds to a crescendo of suspense that will keep readers on the edge of their seats until the very end. Brighton and the surrounding landscapes are evocatively written about by Byrne who embeds the action in a real gritty Sussex by the Sea, with all the elements of quirk and character that the big city can offer.

It’s difficult to discuss the ‘reveal’ here without spoiling the plot but I was uncomfortable with the way the motivations of the manipulative characters were used to drive the narrative on, it felt unsympathetic to a complex individual who were themselves wildly emotionally adrift. It’s a curious and brutal telling of this character’s story as what sets this novel apart is its portrayal of LGBTQ+ experiences with authenticity and nuance, but also without ever calling them what they are.

The word ‘lesbian’ is never used to talk about Mara and Nico’s relationship, but it is depicted with sensitivity and depth, capturing the raw emotions of teenage angst and the powerful, complex motivations of those around them who appear to have their best interests at heart. It’s a poignant reminder that love knows no bounds, that people do shocking things and that true acceptance lies in embracing our authentic selves, and that families can be hell, but can also heal. Perhaps here Bryne is showing that it takes people a long while to say the words for the first time that will define and shape their entire life.

In the Shallows is a must-read for YA LGBTQ+ readers seeking a story that will tug at their heartstrings and leave them breathless with anticipation. Byrne’s masterful storytelling and compelling characters make this novel an unforgettable exploration of love, loss, and the enduring power of memory. Her subtle detailing of intersectional and diverse families is lovely, based around traditions and food and the ways those adapt with second or third generation family members growing up in their own ways.

A lovely read for the young adult reader, so dive into the depths of In the Shallows and prepare to be swept away by its spellbinding tale of second chances and unbreakable bonds.

Out now, £9.99

For more info or to order the book see the publisher’s website here:

Book Review Race Rules: What Your Black Friends Won’t Tell You by Fatimah Gilliam

Book Review

Race Rules: What Your Black Friends Won’t Tell You

Fatimah Gilliam

 

Review by Eric Page

Fatimah Gilliam’s “Race Rules: What Your Black Friends Won’t Tell You” offers a candid exploration of racial dynamics, urging readers to confront uncomfortable truths and actively work towards equity and justice.

The book is an innovative, practical manual for white people of the unwritten rules relating to race, explaining the unvarnished truth about racist and offensive white behaviours. It offers a unique lens from Fatimah Gilliam, a light-skinned Black woman, and is informed by the revealing things white people say when they don’t realize she’s Black.

Presented as a series of race rules, this book has each chapter tackling a specific topic many people of colour wish white people understood.  Gilliam’s work is commendable for its intersectional approach, acknowledging the complex interplay between race, gender, sexuality, and other intersecting identities. She recognizes that experiences of oppression are multifaceted, and her analysis encompasses the diverse lived realities of marginalized communities, including LGBTQ individuals of colour. She fearlessly confronts topics often brushed aside or tiptoed around in mainstream discourse. Through personal anecdotes, historical references, and sociological analysis, Gilliam sheds light on the myriad ways in which racism permeates everyday life.

One of the book’s strengths lies in its emphasis on solidarity and allyship. Gilliam provides practical strategies for dismantling racism, encouraging readers to move beyond passive sympathy towards active engagement. This intersectional perspective is particularly relevant for LGBTQ individuals, who often navigate overlapping systems of discrimination based on race, gender identity, and sexual orientation.

The emphasis on actionable steps for allies is a notable aspect of the book. She provides practical strategies for dismantling racism, urging readers to move beyond passive sympathy towards active solidarity. This empowers readers to engage in meaningful dialogue and enact tangible change within their communities.

Gilliam’s exploration of intra-group disparities within the Black community is crucial. By highlighting the diversity of experiences among Black people, she challenges monolithic representations and underscores the importance of amplifying marginalized voices. This intersectional lens fosters greater understanding and solidarity among communities facing intersecting forms of oppression.

While Gilliam draws from personal experiences and observations, the book could benefit from a broader range of voices within the LGBTQ community. Including diverse perspectives would enrich the narrative, providing a more comprehensive understanding of the intersecting oppressions faced by QTIPOC communities.

‘Race Rules’ serves as a thought-provoking exploration of race relations, offering valuable insights and actionable steps for allies. With a straightforward universal three-step framework to unlearn racism and challenge misconceptions, this book offers readers a chance to change behaviours and shift mindsets

Gilliam sheds light on the complexities of racism, urging readers to confront uncomfortable truths and actively work towards equity and justice. While the book is written from an American perspective, its candid approach and emphasis on solidarity make it a valuable contribution to the ongoing dialogues on challenging racism in contemporary society.

Out now £26.00 Paperback

For more info or to order the book see the publisher’s website here

REVIEW: Cluedo 2 @ Theatre Royal Brighton

Review by Eric Page 

Walking into Theatre Royal Brighton for Cluedo 2, I anticipated a suspenseful unravelling of mysteries akin to its namesake board game. Unfortunately, what awaited was a perplexing evening of poorly paced theatrics, stilted choreography, and lacklustre acting. CLUEDO 2 – The Next Chapter! is set in the swinging 1960s – there’s new suspects, a new house, and lot of new bodies, in this old tale of murder, mystery and a secret passageway.

From the onset, the pacing of the production felt as if it were dragging, with scenes hanging on longer than a game of Cluedo when everyone insists on examining every room twice. The choreography, used for set and space transformation, seemed more akin to awkwardly placed stumbling rather than any semblance of fluid movement. One could hardly discern whether it was intentional irony or sheer incompetence. 

Photo – Dave-Hogan

As for the acting, well, let’s just say Colonel Mustard would have been more convincing as a candlestick than some of the performers on stage. Their delivery lacked conviction, leaving the audience feeling more puzzled than engaged. One couldn’t help but wonder if they were all in on a joke that the audience had yet to grasp. It was the first night for this cast, so some allowances should be made, as there’s a lot of timing, placement and joke landing to get right, but it felt both slow and rushed – an impressive achievement, but the polish was missing. 

The set, constructed from cut-out doors, windows, etc rolling, twirling and being waltzed on and off stage, was perhaps the most intriguing aspect of the production, and that’s not saying much. It possessed all the charm of a hastily assembled game board, offering little in the way of narrative depth. Much like the plot itself, which seemed to unravel with all the coherence of a game of Cluedo played by a group of toddlers. At one dreadful point I thought they were going to sing.

Throughout the first half, one couldn’t shake the feeling that perhaps this was all an elaborate ruse, a sophisticated deconstruction of a bad play, courtesy of the mind behind The Play That Goes Wrong and the original, tightly plotted, slick, funny and sharp production of (the first) Cluedo from 2022. Alas, it became increasingly evident that this play was simply wrong, with no redeeming qualities. 

If there’s one silver lining to be found in this tangled web of theatrical missteps, it’s the brevity of the production. Like a swift accusation in the final moments of a Cluedo game, the end mercifully arrived, sparing the audience (and the cast perhaps) any further agony. 

Did I enjoy any of it? … Dawn Buckland as Mrs White produced a tasty, daft buffet out of the thin gruel of her material, bagging most of the laughs of the night. The costumes were rather good with some chic colour coding in keeping with the board games premise. The cliches are done with high panto camp and there was a fantastic range of accents on stage, often from the same character. I did laugh at one or two of the ornate innuendos to be fair but even that patience ran out with an overextended, vulgar, baked goods sketch, and the cast seemed to get into their stride in the last 20 mins.   

Cluedo 2 at Theatre Royal Brighton is a far cry from a gripping mystery and more like a panto – oh yes it is! With its poorly paced narrative, lacklustre choreography, and subpar acting, it fails to capture the essence of the board game. One can only hope that this tour sharpens up quick, doubles down on timings and sorts out the weirdly unprecise lighting. I’ll leave the last word to my companion: when I asked him for his ‘favourite part of the show’, he replied ‘when the curtain came down’.

At Theatre Royal Brighton until Saturday, 23 March  

For more info or to book tickets see the Theatre Royal website

BOOK REVIEW: ‘Countless Sleepless Nights: A Collection of Coming out Stories and Experiences’ by Carina Maggar

Review by Eric Page

Authenticity is often praised, and inauthenticity is criticised. We want people to be themselves. But what happens if the society we’re in isn’t supportive or even hostile toward who we really are? Or we don’t yet know. That’s the challenge facing many LGBTQ+ people in relation to coming out.

All we know of them is their age and location but this amazingly diverse collection of anonymous voices, have one thing in common: they are the clear, authentic voices of people like us who have made the same heart wrenching and difficult journey as most of us. Accepting themselves for what and who they are, living authentically as those Glorious Beings and then summoning up the courage, or realising they’ve nothing to lose by living honestly and telling people the truth of their lives.

Many of the stories touch on the loss and pain of family estrangements, frank, candid assessments of how being true is more important than living the lie expected of us by others. Stories tremble with possibility, of love found, lost, or allowed to slip through scared hands. There’s difficulty spoken of here too: abuse, violence, self-harm, suicide.

These are brutal truths we face. This book is a humbling read, reminding those of us, far, far from the Closet Doors of our own fearful embrace of our current lives, recalling the real strength it takes to make those first steps, and the whole life changing experience to just saying it ‘I am THIS!’.

The stories range from tragic to inspiring, from daft and cringeworthy to deeply profound and moving, with pathos, glory, honour, and raw electric delight threaded through them. Love flows through this book, gushes at us, warms us with its hope. I was touched by uprightness, the anonymity giving it the feel of voices in the dark, or chatting with strangers at an airport, snatched moments of startling clarity and honesty from people requiring to speak their truth.

Author Carina Maggar is a copywriter and creative based in London and has taken great care to curate this anthology. Most of the stories are accompanied by delicate pencil line drawing from illustrator Marine Buffard, some carefully coloured with a Japanese feel, drawn from subtle details of the narrative.

No two stories are the same, yet all are written by people who share the courage to be vulnerable, take huge risks to find love and acceptance and are brave enough to be their authentic selves. Whether you have any experience of coming out or not, these stories are incredibly powerful and moving.

Out now: £16.99, Hardback

For more info and to order the book, see the publisher’s website

REVIEW: Sister Act: The Musical @ Theatre Royal Brighton

Review by Eric Page 

If you’re looking for a night of pure joy, laughter, and fantastic music, look no further than Sister Act: The Musical at Brighton’s lovely Theatre Royal. From the off this production radiates fun, energy, and an infectious sense of joy that will leave you grinning from ear to ear. Based on, but not a copy of the famous film, we keep the silly singer, nuns and mafioso murder mix but have a range of new original songs deeply in the ’70s styles.

This is a musical about the joy found in singing and being all for nun and nun for all. Each cast member excelled in their solo performances, delivering powerful vocals that soared through the theatre with ease. From soulful ballads to upbeat gospel numbers, every song was delivered with passion and flair. And when the cast came together for duets, the harmonies were simply magical, sending shivers.

The ensemble singing piece are on point, funny and raise the rafters when these sisters get going. The whole cast rocks and turns it out, they’re on top nun form. Within the stellar performance there’s some standout moments: Kate Powell‘s Mother Superior giving us fine character development with her cut glass English voice as she first resists and them finally embraces the changes occurring around her.

Alfie Parker‘s Steady Eddie  is a comedic delight who showstops with his disco dream double reveal! Eloise Runnette’s Sister Mary Robert offers up a heartfelt belter of a hope filled number which brought the audience to its feet and had a few folk in tears. Then shimmering powerhouse Landi Oshinowo as Deloris is simply the best, allowing her powerful voice to wrap itself round the lyrics and rhythms, driving the emotional core of this musical and offering us as much tender reflection as bold, brassy assertion. She is hypnotic and nails the comedy timing each and every time. Her vocal range supporting this tender performance of finding yourself through supporting others, with some ultra cultural clash.

Full cast and creative info here

The energetic narrative pace of the show kept me fully engaged throughout. The story unfolds seamlessly, with plenty of camp humour and heartwarming moments along the way. It’s a feel-good journey that you won’t want to end. One of the highlights of Sister Act is its solid female lineup. From the sassy Deloris Van Cartier to the endearing Sister Mary Clarence, each character is brought to life with depth and charisma. The chemistry between the cast members is palpable, adding a layer of authenticity to the performance. Only the inevitable romance between Steady Eddie and Deloris feels a bit missed, but that’s some small criticism of a solidly entertaining night.

Let’s talk about the visuals. The costumes are vintage perfection, transporting you back to the glamorous era of the 1970s. The sequins are over the top camp, the colours are vibrant, and every detail is on point. There’s some delicious drag references and it’s all done with real passion and humble respect for the Catholic faith it’s rooted in. It’s a nice touch that the jokes aren’t at the expense of the sisters’ faith and gives this vintage musical a foundation in inclusion which echoes to a modern audience.

And the set? It’s huge and impressive, squished into the Theatre Royal’s Rococo spaces but throbbing with lights, projections and siding LED lit doors; presenting the various spaces the action takes place, providing the perfect backdrop for the dazzling performances.

A special mention must go to the band, directed by Tom Slade, whose musical support elevated the entire production. The sound was balanced to perfection. The clever lighting added to the atmosphere, creating moments of drama and spectacle that captivated the audience.

UK Tour details here

The auditorium was sold out, packed, and throbbing with expectation and the audience was well-behaved and seemingly thoroughly enjoyed the show. The energy in the theatre was electric, with laughter and applause ringing out after each number.

Sister Act: The Musical is an absolute delight from beginning to end. It’s a testament to the power of music, laughter, and sisterhood, and it left me smiling long after the final curtain call. Don’t miss your chance to experience this uplifting and entertaining production – it’s an evening you won’t soon forget, what a Nunderful world, this is one class act, Sisters.

For more info or to buy tickets (if you can) see the Theatre Royal website here

BOOK REVIEW Wild Things by Laura Kay

Wild Things

Laura Kay

Review by Eric Page

El Evans is stuck in a dead-end job, hopelessly in unrequited love with her best friend, Ray, and in need of a major life change.

After a New Year’s resolution to ‘Be More Wild’, El is soon in possession of one tattoo, one  hangover and memories of one, very disappointing threesome,  but she’s trying and surely it can only get better?

Setting off with three friends; Ray the DIY expert, heartbroken Will and Instagram darling Jamie to do a ‘wild thing’ and fix up a dilapidated house on Instagram in a small country village El worries and reflects on her lost time &  her love life, grappling with a monumental all-consuming crush on her housemate Ray. Author Kays’ wonderful prose, picks up small, delightful moments of El’s life to sustain, embellish and empower living communally. Teasing us with the throbbing crush, stolen looks and burning touches of will they, won’t they possibilities of passion. There’s no surprises in what happens here, but that doesn’t diminish the narrative allure of its unfolding.

Living so close offers the opportunity to discover more about the others, their heartbreaks, their online influencing, and the reasons that brought them all together in the first place. Kay explores the dynamics of Queer chosen families with care, teasing out how trust, unconditional acceptance and daft Queer Joy can be ties that bind. These queer friendship are accepting, warm, messy, and believable and the interactions between these delightful characters made me laugh out loud, with some gloriously camp comedy touches and perfect timing folded in. The chickens & hens they adopt deserve a book of their own! The wider outside village life – its gossip, drama and interests, is an appealing foil to the emotional journeys of the housemates.

There’s a goofy joyful quality to this book, and to our charming protagonist El, she’s fumbling, but clever, astute but slightly shy, confident but unsure and blissfully unaware of some of the deeper feelings of the people around her, leading to plenty of humour and sensitive explorations of managing friendships and your own expectations of life.  The tremulous knowledge of being so close to her heart’s desire and having to the daily struggle of household tasks and chores is handled with a deft warmth that reminded me of how lovely author Kay’s writing can be. Kay is touch perfect with their throwaways, deeply insightful personal observations, and the small sentences we use on ourselves to keep our chins up.

It’s a frightfully British adventure, with an eye on the American market, but there’s no artifice here, in the same way that Tales of the City is intrinsically American, so Wild Things wears it’s small b britishness on it’s perfectly knitted sleeve.

An entrancing, delightful book about listening to your inner voice (and its deeper under currents of desire) and choosing the path less trodden, being impulsive, following your dreams and finding yourself out there, wild and energised. Left me smiling and warm, a real treasure of a Queer Rom Com.

Out now £9.99 ( Paperback)

For more info or to order the book see the publisher’s website here:

 

 

 

 

BOOK REVIEW: ‘Better Left Unsaid’ by Tufayel Ahmed

Review by Eric Page

After his wife suffered a vicious race and faith-based hate crime, which is recorded and goes viral, the tensions across this family start to fray. Imran calls out to his sister, living in New York, to return home to Bow, East London and support them in this complex family story of navigating grief, loss and the search for authentic happiness. As eldest child Imran promises his dying mother to continue a ‘traditional’ patriarchal approach to the family, to be ‘the man’.

Middle daughter Sumaya marries and moved to American, fleeing the suffocating traditions of her Bengali British community. Majid, the youngest son, a mannered millennium, glories in his lack of responsibility, exploring a fluid LGBTQ+ approach to his life, Queer, loving, accepting and seemingly at ease with the many facets of his identity and integrated into a strong group of empowered, supporting queer people of colour.

When Sumaya returns to London, rediscovering her secret lover and triggering a whole series of events, and empowering her to make stark changes to the way she’s been living, breaking out of the rut of repeated family ties, allowing her feelings to flow, and the energy of that release giving her the confidence to push through and speak her truth, first to her younger gender queer brother. He takes it with a shrug, but introduces her to his friends and their intersectional delights who offer her hope for new life.

She also addresses her older brother, her blunt frank approach to him releasing years of tensions, resentments and a recognition that they can’t go on living in the decreasing circles of their parents cultural expectations of them, but they (and he) needs to let go, put things into perspective and move on.  This leads to Imran challenging the direct and systemic racism he’s worked under for years and reaching out to his wife across a gulf of his own making and exploring what his own previously rigid masculinity needs to thrive, stripped of its traditional beliefs.

The narrative thumps up a pace as the book nears it ends with all three siblings having an opportunity to reflect and address the ways the promises made, assumed expectations bound them and their own desires to live authentic lives have compounded to make them feel stuck.

It’s a very happy ever after ending, with the pressure of the truth washing away any of the South Asian experience of migrant life nitty gritty that these characters may have had to deal with had they not had the options of moving country and place to establish themselves. But author Ahmed gives his characters hard but kind endings – out, honest and hearts full of hope.

It ends with love, found, hoped for and refreshed, self-respect freeing them from seeking others’ approval, the siblings finding their family bonds, both blood and chosen are made anew, embracing the authentic reality of their queer, bi and conscious coupling choices. Recognising that their complex intersectional mix of rich ethnic and faith-based heritage, as contemporary urban Londoners, and their own families lived experience of resilience offers them a strong foundation to blossom and grow. It speaks to how our intimate connections with birth family transcend culture, heritage and geography.

Ahmed’s prose deals with huge issues in a touching, personal way, giving the characters time to see how they need to change and what they need to lose to make those changes. We hear their voices with clarity, experiencing the fears and feelings, their love and losses, and breathe their wishes and hopes along with them, giving the reader a tender insight into the tribulations and relationships of this contemporary British Bengali Muslim and Islamic heritage family, whilst reflecting our own hopes back, to be seen, to be heard, to be loved.

Lovely, recommended.

Out now, £6.99. Order a copy HERE.

BOOK REVIEW: ‘Survivor’s Guilt’ by Robyn Gigl

Review by Eric Page

Attorney and LGBTQ+ activist Robyn Gigl, whose books have won many prestigious awards, tackles the complexities of gender, power, public perception in this twisted plot of human trafficking in another powerful legal thriller featuring Erin McCabe – a transgender attorney –  at its centre.

This is strongly reminiscent of Gigl’s first novel (in this series) By Way of Sorrow, a deeply personal viewpoint of Erin’s life as a high stakes lawyer offered a case which echoes the protagonist’s own identity. Ann –  a trans women – who apparently confesses to the murder of her adoptive father, but something doesn’t quite add up and a clandestine meeting with a police officer working on the case convinces Erin to take it up.

There are major themes of power at play, privilege and entitlement and who gets to be listened to, and whose truth is heard, or believed. What justice really means, to different people and the way the law and the mechanisms of justice are manipulated by the established and entitled. It makes this book possibly unique (so far) and Erin reaches out from their intersectional perspectives to underscore her humanity with her own life, experiences and the emotional impacts unfolding around her work.

I like Erin, they are an interesting, likeable, and believable person, which keeps you reading even when the pace slows considerably, as in the sub plot here of the mother’s cancer diagnoses. Duane Swisher, Erins ‘sidekick’ and sleuthing colleague, picks up the pieces that don’t quite fit in this thriller. Erin’s reflections and experiences, viewed through her trans lens, offer us insights, razor sharp perceptions and wry observations of the working of the legal systems that only an LGBTQ+ mind could pick out.

Fighting against time and a prosecutor hell-bent on notching another conviction, the two work tirelessly – Erin inside the courtroom, Swish in the field – to clear Ann’s name. But despite her father’s associates’ determination to keep their own illegal activities buried, a horrifying truth emerges – a web of human exploitation, unchecked greed, and murder. This quest to see justice served becomes a desperate struggle to survive.

Unlike in Sorrow, where we experience the detailed working of the legal mind as Erin unpicks events, here the story is a little heavier, with the wicked main characters being almost Bond villain in their intent and, although giving some thrilling episodes of denouement, it’s not quite as ordinary or believable as the characters and plots that weave around this main narrative thrust. I like my courtroom thrillers to unfold with obvious facts that I’d missed earlier in the narrative, that ‘Oh right’ moment, but that’s mostly missing in the exposure of the real culprits here. There’s far more threat and danger lurking in these shadowy corridors of power.

Erin is such a well written character, this outing, which shows her living her best life, but also under real danger for taking on a case for another person, who also happens to be trans, isn’t as satisfying a legal thriller as the first book but is certainly a dark and menacing thriller in the modern broader genre. Author Gigl’s prose is warm, engaging and deeply personal allowing her characters to bloom as real people in our mind’s eye.

Although unsatisfying in its ending, which questions the natures of justice, guilt, and harm, I was delighted by another opportunity to enjoy the high stakes courtroom dramas of attorney Erin McCabe, Trans, successful, living her best life, finding love with a good man, struggling with her family but vocally, unapologetically being simply brilliant.

In these distorted times where narratives are key, readers; trans, non-binary, queer or LGBTQ+ need to see and hear ourselves, portrayed positively in the stories we read, and Gigl’s second novel offers us a banker for the queer bookshelves and elbows her way in to, rightfully, take up some award -inning space.

More please!

Out now. For more info or to buy the book see the publisher’s website

REVIEW: The Handmaid’s Tale @ English National Opera

Review by Eric Page

The ENO’s revival of The Handmaid’s Tale, depicting the story of one ‘handmaiden’ Offred in this totalitarian, theonomic, and neo-Puritanical regime, is taken from Margaret Atwood’s dystopian novel, veers away from too much direct graphic brutality but is a scary view of what might be, and is unremittingly beautiful in its stark no nonsense harshness.

©-Zoe-Martin

The orchestra, with Joana Carneiro at the helm, was astonishing, bringing a textural substance to the music which transfixed me, I was often drawn out of the unremitting misery on the stage by the beautiful hypnotic precision of this music, instruments wrapping around each other in mathematical perfections which transcended the pit.

The acoustic playfulness of the music from composer Poul Ruders, and its meta references to technological sound production, gospel, jazz, choral chanting and sinister jingoism, are mixed into complex atonal displays of bravado, was gripping and carried the misery aloft its structured wings, allowing the narrative to be explored with a foundation of musical profuseness accented with delicious multifaceted percussion and underscored by threatening brass.

The simple sets from Annemarie Woods suggest repurposed stadiums and vast Evangelical churches. They are an exploration of lighting and curtain pleats – never has so much pleated drapery done so much for so little. But the saft palate of non offensive curtains add a sinister edge of institutional clinical performance to the vast stages, offering no privacy in this panoptic dystopia and allows full focus on the characters and their hideous situations. Paule Constable’s precise lighting pinpoints the action in forensic clarity.

Full synopsis here

Kate Lindsey returns in this revival to the role of Offred – her mezzo-soprano full of clarity, pure diction and instinctual texture. She was amazing. Avery Amereau‘s performance of the conflicted, complex Serena Joy – trapped by bareness and circumstance – was subtle and tragic – a supressed foil to the rolling majesty and entitlement of James Creswell‘s Commande. Rachel Nicholls‘ Aunt Lydia spoils for a fight, her nasty bullying savagery matched by her soaring, cutting voice. Nadine Benjamin’s Moira was eye-arresting – keeping herself the anchor of normality, offering radical hope through her boundless love.

The ENO Womens Chorus here are superb, utterly transfixing the audience with their fearful mob and tremulous desperate searching for contact. The show is worth seeing just for their touch perfect panoptic performance, choreographed to the hilt, their voices, feelings and futures brutally hammered into one, portraying the plight of women in this horror show of a fallen American.

Opening using the epilogue from the book, with a far-future presentation on the ‘fall of Gilead’, Juliette Stevenson was uber swish, literally gleaming in an angelic white trouser suit with sharp pressed trousers introducing us to the context. In the book this person is a non-binary First Nations professor ‘Pieixoto’  from an Arctic university, suggesting a triumph of diversity and inclusion over the bigotries of Gilead’s repression but in an utterly changed world, of devastated physical geography and personal identities.

With her eloquent vocal tones and perfect hair, Stevenson is Little Miss WASP, the stalls and my companion in particular swooning at her minimalist, glamorous presence each time she wafted on and off stage. An interesting choice of casting, giving real star quality to the night, but diminishing, perhaps, Atwood’s academic framing of the narrative. My companion was thrilled by Stevenson, and she was a real hit with the crowd.

Costumes show clear hierarchies by quality of clothing and style and give a subtle industrial horror to the night. A line up of Wives in sharp electric blue contrasting with the drab beiges of the Handmaids, their pallet of blue shoes stepping across the misery and brutality of their attitude, the famous Handmaids’ poke bonnets becoming something brutally bespoke, reclaimed and removed as status and usage of these subjugated women changed.

With attacks on reproductive rights, women’s equality and gender equity becoming shriller by the day, this revival is a great move, striking the zeitgeist by ENO to shore up its base and attract new and more diverse audiences.

The ENO offers a full range of ticket options, starting from £10, so check out how you can go along and see this extremely effective revival.

Recommended. Until February 15, various dates. Guidance 15+

For more info or to book tickets see the ENO’s website here

 

REVIEW: ‘The Faggots and Their Friends Between Revolutions’ @ Southbank Centre

Review by Eric Page; lead photo by Tristram Kenton

This a queer allegory, with an earnest ‘Radical Faeries’ type feel about it, reaching out across metaphor to grasp at common LGBTQ+ histories that bind us together into a rag tag community. It starts as a fall from grace. The Faggots, The Women and Their Friends (including the women who love women and the faggatinas) are living in an idyll of perfection before some of the Faggots degenerate into (hetro) Men.

These Men become the oppressive forces of self-denial, greed and violence who destroy the delicate balance of this mythical perfect world and drive the Faggots and their Friends out into the margins, shadows, and crepuscular gutters of the world, where they scrape by, existing as ghosts in this Monstrous Man Machine of Oppression. The word ‘Faggot’ is constant, its harsh prickly skin abraded by the relentless beauty of sung voice until it peels away to offer a different meaning, a soft seed of claimed back proudness.

photographer Camilla Greenwell

Adapted for the stage by Ted Huffman and Philip Venables, this is retelling of history, via interpretation and performance of  Larry Mitchell’s 70s ‘Queer’ manifesto of radical community change via transforming ideas of gender politics and love, written when he was part of the Lavender Hill queer commune in New York.

The struggles of generations of queers is explored and boiled down in this crucible of pain and subjugation, leaving crystals of hard-earned wisdom glittering for those brave enough to reach in, or those with sharp enough elbows to grasp at this brutal truth. It’s centred on queerness, we are the focus of the story, and this POV allows the narrative to stay thrillingly positive, embedded in hope.

The fourth wall is a mist here, the troupe gliding in, out, round and though it as if phantasmagoria, aware of us, desperate to touch us, but leaving us, or me at the very least, curiously untouched. For all its need to compress deep truths into marvellous mythologies and fairytales to inspire, I’m left feeling detached. My companion is weeping in the first segment, fidgeting by halfway and utterly absorbed again for the ending. It’s that type of show, reaching in and pulling out reactions from the audience, a very fierce queer audience.

Musically it’s a delight from start to finish and the music underpins this show, allowing the narrative to glide and slip, occasionally veer off the road completely, but ever-present, ever-changing selection of musical styles and superbly played instruments brings it firmly back on track. There’s a rehearsal quality to the set and music, an almost Baroque improvisation feel to it, with counter tenor and choir, harp and accordion, solos and saxophone all joining briefly for a flurry of intersection.

The troupe waft, tumble, race, chase, slump, and bump in all forms of gymnastic contortions in a constant flurry of movement, not all of it has a point, but perhaps that was the point, to suggest a psychological diaspora, a spiritual displacement, a searching for somewhere over the pain hued rainbows of history.

Full cast and creative info here 

This is our story, whatever part of the LGBTQ+ cloth your warp is from, this is your mythos threaded through the sharp weft of history, our blood makes the patterns, the denial of our truth is the well-worn threadbare marks of use by the patriarchal forces who shudder now under our trumpets of authenticity. The show is an essential reminder that our battle is not rooted in the here and now, but in the hearts of humanity.

Photographer Camilla Greenwell

The final segment, exploring brutality and cycles of violence, is done with balletic grace, a seated circle watch as racers chase each other to both dish out and take punishment. There’s some irony here but it’s mostly earnest, the stage drops to darkness. Leaving us unsure of the end.

There are some beautiful performances from the cast and occasional missed lines particularly during the ‘sing along’, keeping with the folksy feel. Overall, it was a softly radical reflective piece, some good harsh jokes pointed at our consumerist elitist culture, beautiful allegories to remind us of who we are and the constant pairing of musical talents and instruments displaying the harmonic beauty of diversity and a reminder that only by reaching out for human connection, by building communities, by engendering respect can we hope to build a better world.

This retelling and centring of queer history is touching and worth catching, it’s a searing read of patriarchy and the audience buzzed as they left, entertained but unapologetically, magically, queered up by these faggots and their friends.

The Faggots and Their Friends Between Revolutions is at Queen Elizabeth Hall, Southbank Centre, London until January 28. 

To book tickets or for more info see their website here:

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