A review by just_one_more_paige
Bad Habit by Alana S. Portero

emotional reflective medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? Character
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? Yes
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? No

5.0

 
This was an ALC offer from Libro.fm last month and then I found a used copy at a local bookstore (kind of a surprise for a recent release in translation, if I'm being honest ...though a very pleasant one). That seemed like a sign from the universe to read it asap. So, I listened. And I'm so glad I did; this book may be short, but it has a phenomenal impact. 
 
This novel, translated from the original Spanish by Mara Faye Lethem, is told by an unnamed narrator, a young trans woman, as she grows up in a working class neighborhood in Madrid. With little to no clear support for the choice to come out, the narrator's internal identity and external presentation are at odds with each other, until she finds an underground(ish) party scene in which to start to express herself. As she starts to find mentors and role models for the life she wants, her deep-seated fear of actually living as, instead of just masquerading as, her true self, becomes yet another barrier to coming out. And when she faces extreme violence, in addition to the typical everyday prejudice, she completely retreats into herself. However, frozen though she may be in that limbo as a farce for a real "life," the choice eventually comes down to finding a way to be her authentic self or letting go of life altogether. Right at the exact moment of need, a face from her youth reappears and gives her the encouragement to finally break the inertia and make her choice.   
 
I was blown away by the lyricism of the writing in this book. And you'll see it when you get to the end, because I had so many highlighted/pull quotes. It's ridiculous. I'm just so impressed because that means there are two layers, the original and the translation, that both had to be spectacular in order to get to this gorgeous finished version. Just absolutely sublime writing. There was also a vibe to it that, at least to me, read more like a memoir than a fiction. From reading more about the author, one can only assume she pulled a bit from her own experiences, which very clearly makes the writing and story-telling stronger.  
 
As far as the story being told, Portero truly brings the reader inside the mind/experience of a young girl experiencing gender dysphoria and depression (at the very least), within a community and context with no space or understanding of or safety for that. All the messages our narrator receives as she grows up are born of (seemingly throwaway) gender-based/biased comments (about boys being tough, etc.), creating a self-image that is incompatible with her own conception of herself and what she wants her life to be. And one shouldn't have to imagine too hard to conceptualize what effect on the psyche of a young person questioning who they are. There's no option but for that to be internalized, making her believe who they are is something they need to hide. What kind of self-worth and capacity for dreaming of the future do you think that could create? And like, in reading this, I am struck yet again by how much I just don't understand why adults are so against young people being able to express and live as who they are...like, what? Why? Anyhoo, Portero just really does a extraordinary job conveying the weight and limitations of an unaccepting society (or at the very least, not-open-minded, as she also was so tender in explaining how the narrator understood that their parents/family clearly loved them, even when they didn't understand why she was hurting or how they inadvertently contributed to that pain), on a developing young person. 
 
The other primary thematic thread, which I found emotional and affecting in a different, though very complementary, way, explores the importance of discovering a mentor, for queer lifestyle and context and history and community. Someone who can show you that there is a place you belong. The hope and possibility that that kind of mentorship/connection can provide, a vision of an *actual* future and potential, is priceless. The couple of characters that hold that role for our narrator throughout this novel are pivotal, and I appreciate them all for tha, as my heart ached and yearned alongside our MC and hoped hard for her future.   
 
These pages were full of such tragedy, but also (painfully) fragile hope, the kind that you cup in your hands to protect, like a tiny winged bug or match flame. Portero's voice is one of deep feeling and compassion, as she writes of the search for belonging outside of expectations, and the (mountainously challenging) internal shifts required to overcome external forces pushing one to never take the chance to find that belonging. A marvelous book. 
 
“When we laugh wholeheartedly, we inhabit no age.” 
 
“Women who live the way they want, who age on their own terms and wear their lives etched into their faces, are treated with pathos and mockery because they are feared.” 
 
“I was discovering who I was through that sort of gut punch, words that lodged deep within me and were impossible to forget. Before you get the chance to define yourself, others trace your outline with their prejudices and their aggressions.” 
 
“Boys didn’t just grow up to be men; they were initiated into masculinity, and pity those who failed, even among the finest men.” 
 
“I searched everywhere for a language of pride and strength so that I could finally fucking explain myself, but I couldn’t locate it no matter how hard I tried.” (oh my shattered heart) 
 
“Having grown up with the language of guilt disseminated from every corner as the only way to refer to trans lives was disheartening. Discovering one’s self should be cause for celebration; the public release from a suffocating space should be met with hugs and relief. But how can you even imagine something you’ve never seen or even sensed?” 
 
“Women, queers, and other existences the deviated from the masculine were marked as prey in the world of malevolent men.” 
 
“I would’ve liked to have had a similar impact on their lives, to have shared in equal exchange, but with them, I learned that we daughters are always indebted, that we cannot give back what we’re given, because that wouldn’t be natural. Our mission is to pass on what we’ve been imparted to other women, whoever they may be. I learned that genealogy, as an inherited love, is a waterfall that only flows downwards.” 
 
“I never felt so strong and so vulnerable at the same time. How could something so beautiful, something so personal and so extraordinary to share with the world, something that vibrated with pure joy, be perceived with such hostility out there?” 
 
“I was humiliated for not having enough grit to commit suicide, unable to reach that state of ultimate bravery that would liberate me from all evil. I felt humiliated by my absolute conviction that years of pain and pure nothingness awaited me before it was all over.” (I mean my god, how can we allow the world to work in a way that makes people feel this way?!) 
 
“The closet had made me selfish; it tore down everything around me to build up its defenses, including lives that weren’t my own. Along the way, I abandoned those I no longer needed and those who threatened to shatter so rancorously what I’d constructed.” (But like, what if, instead, we created world where a closet wasn’t necessary, so that all these relationships could thrive?) 
 
“The rest stayed clean because it was never used, just gathering dust, which is the breath of time settling on our things so we don’t forget it’s running out.” 
 
“…our hardships are imposed upon us, not something we’re born with like a witch’s mark.” 
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