JUN - Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe

June review for Book Riot's Read Harder 2017: Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Sáenz, 2012. [YA by an LGBTQ+ author category]



First of all, let me just say how glad I am that this is a category, and in addition how glad I was that I had options for my choice. I read a few queer-adjacent texts in my youth, but nothing that really spoke to me and prodded at the little place inside me that would fire up later. I ended up choosing Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe on a close friend's recommendation; I had originally thought of choosing a lesbian or bisexual girl's story, as that is more my narrative, and I might've been able to see how I would've reacted reading it when I was YA myself, but I ultimately decided to move outside of my narrative and read about two high school boys who fall in love. 

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe is about Ari (short for Aristotle) and Dante and the summer they meet. They are, in most every respect, total opposites, but somehow they forge a bond between them. The story is entirely from Ari's perspective and follows his life both with and without Dante, once Dante moves to Chicago for 9 months. It was a nice read, primarily internal monologue that I didn't hate from a 16 year old boy. During one of their early hangs out in the desert, Dante brings his telescope and they look at the stars, and Dante whispers, "Someday, I'm going to discover all of the secrets of the universe." The title phrase becomes a refrain in Ari's mind throughout their relationship, an idea he returns to again and again throughout his recovery and maturation. I think the most bold-strokes answer to the secrets of the universe is unequivocal love, and I am so glad that the author, Benjamin Alire Sáenz, was able to stop being afraid and share it.

There wasn't one big brilliant revelatory "I AM GAY" moment, just a collection of feelings. In fact, it is Ari's parents who gently assert that he has fallen in love with Dante at the end of the book; it is their words, not his own, that prompt him to go find his best friend and kiss him (again). This fits well with my own experience. I had always quietly considered myself a little bisexual, but I was in a committed heterosexual relationship for 5 years with a man, when a woman transferred to my derby league with whom I formed a very deep connection. We were both in relationships (hers with a woman) and I didn't think I was exactly gay, but as time moved on we both came to realize that we couldn't just be friends; there was something more. A whole lot of messiness and heartbreak came after that, things that I hope did not follow for Ari and Dante, but I found my way through and am now in a committed and loving relationship with the woman of my dreams. There was no single flashbulb moment for me when I realized I was in love WITH A WOMAN; it just sort of happened. I am glad that there exists now queer literature by queer-identifying people that can tell that story. I hope to add to that story in my own way, some day soon. 

JUNE - The Bone People

June review for Book Riot's Read Harder 2017: The Bone People by Keri Hulme, 1984. [set >5000 mi from your location category]


I think The Bone People was recommended to me in college by an intellectual boy on whom I had a quiet (and unrequited) crush, and I transferred it from my mother's bookshelf to my own, but never opened it. I chose it for the "taking place more than 5,000 miles from your location" category, which was surprisingly difficult to decide on! The Bone People takes place in New Zealand, in a tower built by an oddball hermit of a woman,and follows her encounter and subsequent relationship with a decidedly mute child and his Maori foster father. Their relationship becomes incredibly close, with Kerewin slotting in as sort of a confidante/extraparental figure in their twosome, and it becomes increasingly problematic as Joe's volcanic and violent rage becomes more apparent. It was very hard to read this book, once you know what you know about Joe's brutal and violent love for Simon. It is hard to parse the ending, which seems sort of like a dreamy afterthought--I was unsure how the story was going to continue when Kerewin burned down her tower with 100 pages left. I think overall, this book made me engage with the ugliness and I appreciate that. 


The Bone People has an incredibly interesting writing style, and Hulme's way with language is unlike anything I've experienced before. Her story jumps around, not from any single voice or point of view, with no discernible or marked shifts in between. We get to hear from introspective Kerewin, mute Simon, and wounded Joe, all characters who cannot or will not voice their inner workings to the world, so we must be privy to them through the narration. I found myself going back, a lot, especially to the amorphous, intentionally vague introductory segments that gathered more meaning as the trio's story progresses, and I like that about a book. One that builds upon itself even in its first reading. In addition, books that have glossaries are my favorite! I feel like I know the teensiest bit of Maori now (although purely in-my-head pronounciation must be atrocious, but still!) and I really appreciated the extra layer of their interactions, seeing how the Maori was used as a sort of code shift between Joe and Kerewin. 

For the most part, I think I liked Kerewin. I saw a lot of me in her, particularly in the way she stated that you could learn about a person by the books in their home: "You want to know about anybody? See what books they read, and how they've been read...." (p348). I love this phrase, especially because it focuses not only on the presence of the books in a person's universe, but goes further and examines the level of engagement in that presence. I think it is a beautiful addition to a sentiment I have often expounded upon, one that I will now take for my own. It is one of the things I really loved about Kerewin. I do not understand Kerewin, in many of her actions, but some of the bare bones artistic struggle I can internalize and nod along to.