A review by kitnotmarlowe
Bindle Punk Bruja by Desideria Mesa

Did not finish book. Stopped at 54%.

Damn, what about the 1920s—arguably my favourite period to read about—inspires so many authors to produce so many shit books? I was initially excited for Bindle Punk Bruja because it eschews the typical roaring twenties settings of NYC/Chicago/LA for Kansas City. I love seeing how splashy history, like the Jazz Age, plays out in smaller places on the map. Unfortunately, the writing was lacklustre, the pacing was odd, the plot was overstuffed, and the characters were stereotypical. 

 

I think I'm being a little too kind in describing the prose as unimpressive, but calling it annoying felt too harsh. In any case, the prose was annoying! There's a writing style among mid-upper millennials who have been on the Internet since adolescence that's easy to spot and annoying every time, particularly in historical fiction. It relies on quirky one-liners and unconvincing slang, even when it's literally from the period in which the book is set. Sections meant to be funny come across as satire, and sections meant to be emotional come across as detached. Luna almost always refers to characters in terms of her relationship with them ("my brother," "my fiance," "my piano player"), which keeps them from crystalizing as people outside of her. There's a patronizing "we're all in this together" sense of solidarity that I'll get into more with the characters. 

 

I don't care enough about the plot or pacing to go into further detail because I barely made it halfway through this book, but I want to discuss the characters. I could talk about Rose, whom Desideria Mesa wants her readers to believe is tortured and morally ambiguous but could be forgiven by the narrative for dropping an atomic bomb. She's absolved of every little mistake or shady thing she does, and every problem she finds herself faced with is easily resolved within a couple of pages. 

 

And then there's the gay stuff. There are at least four queer characters: Luna's brother, Javier; her coworker, Margaret; her fiance, Heck; and

the Klansman, who I presume is Margaret's terrible husband

. Only Javi has a good life, and he's constantly mocked and degraded because of his race. Margaret is dowdy, annoying (perhaps she gets redeemed in the end), and stuck in an abusive marriage. I don't think I need to mention the horrible old trope of the closeted bigot. And then there's Heck. When I say Heck's queerness is period-accurate, I mean he's a silent film sissy. Heck is silly and swishy, the son of a powerful man who is only protected from being outed by his surname; he loves makeup and clothes; he's campy and effeminate; he's promiscuous; and Mesa takes care to tell us that he bottoms. There's nothing wrong with any of those things, and there have certainly been gay men in the past and present who have been all of those things, but the reliance on GBF tropes from 20 years ago is honestly a little insulting when written by a presumably straight author. Luna's patronizing attitude toward queer people is equally insulting. She acts as if she's awaiting canonization for her acceptance and "understanding" of The Gays. As if this makes her superior without further thought. It's like trying to put a flimsy rainbow band-aid on a head wound. Exhausting. 

 

I read Zen Cho's (fantastic) 1920s novella, The Perilous Life of Jade Yeo, shortly after this, so I guess I have a 1:1 ratio of good 1920s books to bad 1920s books.