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A review by sausome
Falling in Love with Hominids by Nalo Hopkinson
2.0
The firstborn half of this collection was pretty good - the strangeness of the worlds and observations the author makes in such short stories was intriguing. But the second half felt pretty disconnected and disjointed from the rest of the collection. A strong voice for diversity and generally repressed people and views.
"We humans have spread over the face of this planet like a fungus, altering and destroying whole ecosystems and species, abusing and waging war on each other. If teenaged me thought about it too much, I was engulfed with despair."
"“Really?” she said. “Don’t you care about passing on your legacy?” “You mean my surname?” She laughed uncomfortably. “You know what I mean.” “I really don’t. I’m not a king and I’m never going to be rich. I’m not going to leave behind much wealth for someone to inherit. It’s not like I’m building an empire.” She made a face as though someone had dropped a mouse in her butter churn. “What are you going to do with your life, then?” “Well,” I chuckled, trying to make a joke of it, “I guess I’m going to go home and put a gun to my head, since I’m clearly no use to myself or anyone else.” Now she looked like she was smelling something rotten. “Oh, don’t be morbid,” she snapped. “Huh? It’s morbid to not want kids?” “No, it’s morbid to think your life has so little value that you might as well kill yourself.” “Oh, come on, Sula!” I’d raised my voice above the low-level chatter in the restaurant. The couple at the table closest to us glanced our way. I sighed and continued: “My life has tons of value. I just happen to think it consists of more than my genetic material. Don’t you?”"
"We humans have spread over the face of this planet like a fungus, altering and destroying whole ecosystems and species, abusing and waging war on each other. If teenaged me thought about it too much, I was engulfed with despair."
"“Really?” she said. “Don’t you care about passing on your legacy?” “You mean my surname?” She laughed uncomfortably. “You know what I mean.” “I really don’t. I’m not a king and I’m never going to be rich. I’m not going to leave behind much wealth for someone to inherit. It’s not like I’m building an empire.” She made a face as though someone had dropped a mouse in her butter churn. “What are you going to do with your life, then?” “Well,” I chuckled, trying to make a joke of it, “I guess I’m going to go home and put a gun to my head, since I’m clearly no use to myself or anyone else.” Now she looked like she was smelling something rotten. “Oh, don’t be morbid,” she snapped. “Huh? It’s morbid to not want kids?” “No, it’s morbid to think your life has so little value that you might as well kill yourself.” “Oh, come on, Sula!” I’d raised my voice above the low-level chatter in the restaurant. The couple at the table closest to us glanced our way. I sighed and continued: “My life has tons of value. I just happen to think it consists of more than my genetic material. Don’t you?”"