Queenie has been out for a while now (it was first published in March 2019), so I was surprised by how topical it was. It found it topical partly because it's a contemporary novel, which explores a lot of timeless issues, but also because its messiness and honesty reminded me a lot of I May Destroy You, which I'm currently nearing the end of on iPlayer. It also feels topical because Queenie (the eponymous character) does a brilliant job of vocalising the pain and anger she feels, as a Black woman, at the police killings of Black people. It makes me so sad and so frustrated that, over a year after publication, this is still so topical.



Queenie is the story of a young Black woman whose life begins to fall apart, when her boyfriend decides he needs a break.

I like these kinds of stories (Fleabag is another example, as is Nina is Not OK), not because my own life is falling apart, but because I think they do such a good job of talking about issues which people often feel they cannot talk about. They also cover so much ground that I always find relatable aspects. These type of honest stories appeal to me because one of the reasons I read is to remind myself that I'm not alone.

However, I also read to challenge myself, by inhabiting a perspective different from my own. There is a lot of Queenie's story that I cannot relate to, if only because of my skin colour. Queenie explores issues of race and gender in a wholly natural way, because it is the story of a Black woman. I loved seeing her perspective on current issues, and inhabiting that perspective in her encounters with white people.

For all its brutal honesty, I think Queenie is an understated book. It quickly drew me in, and I flew through it over the weekend. Ever since, I can't stop thinking about it and its quiet brilliance.