A review by camillatd
Little Rabbit by Alyssa Songsiridej
3.5
I struggled with how to review this book, because it was such a deeply unsettling and yet riveting read.
The unnamed narrator is a young, queer writer in her late 20s who becomes enthralled with the love and obsession of an older man, "the choreographer." Throughout the book, she grapples with her sense of self and her sense of control over her body and her mind. Through her perspective, we see the intricate intimacies of sex, kink, power, art, and obsession. Interestingly, the character's queerness is a sticking point in her relationships with her friends, and how they perceive her relationship with the choreographer. Little Rabbit asks tough, meaty questions: What does queerness mean? How does it evolve in relationships, and how is it shaped by gender dynamics? What is the line between obsession and control? What is the relationship between sex, kink, and embodiment?
The physicality of Songsiridej's writing is remarkable--every moment feels visceral and fully embodied. This only served to further unsettle me as the reader, as the main character falls deeper into the relationship with the choreographer. I felt her slipping grip on control of her life so deeply it made me uneasy.
All this to say, the writing was really really so good. I can't say I enjoyed the story, necessarily, but Songsiridej deftly engages with the themes of romantic obsession, power, and gender dynamics. I would recommend for fans of Lillian Fishman's Acts of Service, Megan Nolan's Acts of Desperation, Sally Rooney's Conversations with Friends, and Bronwyn Fischer's The Adult.
The unnamed narrator is a young, queer writer in her late 20s who becomes enthralled with the love and obsession of an older man, "the choreographer." Throughout the book, she grapples with her sense of self and her sense of control over her body and her mind. Through her perspective, we see the intricate intimacies of sex, kink, power, art, and obsession. Interestingly, the character's queerness is a sticking point in her relationships with her friends, and how they perceive her relationship with the choreographer. Little Rabbit asks tough, meaty questions: What does queerness mean? How does it evolve in relationships, and how is it shaped by gender dynamics? What is the line between obsession and control? What is the relationship between sex, kink, and embodiment?
The physicality of Songsiridej's writing is remarkable--every moment feels visceral and fully embodied. This only served to further unsettle me as the reader, as the main character falls deeper into the relationship with the choreographer. I felt her slipping grip on control of her life so deeply it made me uneasy.
All this to say, the writing was really really so good. I can't say I enjoyed the story, necessarily, but Songsiridej deftly engages with the themes of romantic obsession, power, and gender dynamics. I would recommend for fans of Lillian Fishman's Acts of Service, Megan Nolan's Acts of Desperation, Sally Rooney's Conversations with Friends, and Bronwyn Fischer's The Adult.