samusc's reviews
188 reviews

Intense themes, wondrous spirits, and a heroine fighting to get her village back. This is a must read MG fantasy. I can't wait for the sequel! 

This was a tough one. While I enjoyed reading about some figures in Sappho's family that I wasn't familiar with, this book was not at all what I hoped it would be. It serves as a potential entry point for further research, but if you're looking for inclusive feminism, this one ain't it.

I'm finding it challenging to continue this given the current allegations involving Gaiman. Going forward, I'll be focusing on just Terry Prachett's material.

Thank you Salaam Reads for the ARC. The opinions expressed in this review are my own and not representative of the library in which I'm employed.

Khadijah and Rachel are both students of the prestigious St. Bernadette's Academy. Despite both feeling as though the school is the safest place for them, they had no reason to interact until the screaming started again. Waved off by adults as "hysteria", dozens of teenage girls are sent home due to this sickness, including Khadijah's younger sister Aishah. Can Khadijah protect Aishah before things escalate further into disappearances? Can Rachel save her peers in addition to saving herself?

This book grabbed me from the very first page and there's so much to love. The descriptive writing is so immersive that a reader can almost hear the sweeping sounds themselves. More than once I found myself with chills at the end of a quick chapter! Hanna Alkaf excels with capturing authentic teen voices, as seen in the dialogue between the girls at St. Bernadette's. I love how Malay phrases are not translated, as English readers aren't intended to be centered here. Khadijah's friendships with Sumi and Flo strike that balance of supportive, while at times hesitant and insecure as teen friendships can be. Rachel and Khadijah's justified anger at the staff for covering up abuse is palpable. 

I highly recommend this book for Muslim and Malaysian teen girls who wish to see themselves represented on page, as well as anyone looking for a refreshing take on trauma based horror. 

I'm so thankful to have buddy read this title. I had no choice but to annotate and highlight this one. 

Gilda Stories takes the reader on a journey across two hundred years of a young woman becoming a vampire, building a family, and interacting with the ever changing world around her. From the very first chapter, when she has escaped from a plantation and comes across a working house, she is protected and assured "You don't have to tell me. I'll tell you" (p. 17). The older women providing a cover story that explains her place there sets the pace of this tale and allows her to bond with the other girls and welcome a new life. As the years progress, she continues to learn, but also takes on mentorship and protective roles for other Black women. Gilda falls in love, becomes involved in local grassroots movements, and creates art in the form of music and romance novels. As Gilda continues to age in mind, but not appearance, she carries memories of those she's loved with such tenderness. Perhaps my favorite quote addressing this was "The sound of voices and music from Bernice's kitchen had captured Gilda's imagination forever" (p. 200). There's also the aspect of love across generations as Gilda writes to Aurelia's great-granddaughter a century after their relationship was built.

I really enjoyed how vampires are portrayed here. While there are several examples of vampires that act in violence, manipulation, and selfishness in these tales, Gilda and her family exhibit kindness, empathy, and strength. Bird had taught Gilda how to take blood from others as a sort of exchange, providing mortals with pleasant dreams and motivations as it's done, as well as to not kill unless necessary. Even the way she refers to their kind as "sharers of the blood" implies something more community based than just a need to consume.

"Gilda found her comfort with women. That was just the way it was" (p. 174). The Gilda Stories addresses the intersecting themes of identity in such a way that honors each identity of Gilda.  She is a formerly enslaved Black Lesbian. As the Afterword notes, "The white feminist movement is afraid of a black woman in control of her sexuality, but here is a black woman who can run a brothel and kill a rapist with the same skills" (p. 256). She acknowledges that her vampiric strength has protected her from white men that have sought to hurt her, and knows that those men are the true monsters. She surrounds herself with people of similar values and not those that "ran out of liberation ideas" (p. 170). She knows Julius felt uncomfortable at Sorel's welcome home party, being one of few Black people in the room, and Anthony found a way to have Julius feel welcome. Gilda's mother tragically died enslaved while having to take care of endless sick white woman; Gilda finds strong community at the Salon in 1955 where Black women can take care of one another and feel beautiful. Gilda's friendship with Savannah rested on the Earth from which they'd come" (p. 131) as they're both from Mississippi, albeit different times and towns. In discovering Effie's past, it's revealed that Effie was enslaved by the Greeks, which is a history that I was aware of, but have rarely seen discussed in literary text.

This book will have you reflective in how you relate to those you love. Her decade long friendship with her upstairs neighbor reminded me of Queer friends I've had that will purchase a beautiful pair of shoes, then decide they suit me better, and gift them to me. Gilda's closeness with Bird never severed despite being continents apart. "Trust had to follow the path cut by love" (p. 128) is written when Gilda entrusts her secrets to Aurelia, but really encompasses her overall character. It is because she loves a stranger enough and trusts them to make the most out of a rebirthed life that Ermis is able to save Gilda in 2050.

The Gilda Stories feels as timely as ever and I can absolutely see how this is a book that can be studied in University seminars and in LGBTQ+ community groups. Jewelle Gomez' predictions were spot on, especially regarding communication, "electronics made communication so swift that intimacy was expected at every turn" (p. 200). Bird's activism for land back parallels to many Indigenous peoples' work today. 

Mira Grant always reminds me of why I love reading. This book made me cry! We will be continuing this series. Full RTC

I didn't get anywhere near finishing this one in time for a book club.