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Highlights in the Charts

By Kelly Rosalyn Moore, Daisy Young and Marisha Puk


On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong

Reviewed by Kelly Rosalyn Moore


Vuong's debut novel is unlike any book I have ever encountered. Having previously disliked epistolary novels, I was sceptical of Vuong's choice to use a confessional, first-person narrative style. However, it proved to be the perfect vehicle to deliver the vulnerability his narrative demanded. There's an intrinsic authenticity that arises when an author writes a letter knowing the intended recipient will never read it. The narrator, Little Dog, writes to his Vietnamese immigrant mother who cannot read English. Through this medium, the reader is immersed in the narrator’s inner thoughts, experiences, pains and pleasures. As a result, the letter becomes a rhetorical meditation on delicate themes such as war, abuse and sexuality. 

The aftermath of the Vietnam War permeates all aspects of Little Dog's narrative. He sees himself as an ever-contradicting product of war, as his mother, Rose, was born to a Vietnamese woman and an American soldier. Tragically, Rose is illiterate, due to an American napalm raid that destroyed her school and her chances of education, and it is this which began the cycle of multigenerational trauma. Her PTSD stifles her relationship with Little Dog, and as a result, she is physically violent, fostering her own domestic microcosm of war. In addition, Little Dog's perceived status as an ‘other’ in his multiracial identity hinders his ability to communicate with his mother in Vietnamese.


Vuong heartbreakingly alludes to the inextricable bond between war and language in Little Dog’s family home. Throughout his letter, the narrator encapsulates the irreversible effects of war – not just on individuals, but how it reverberates through families and lingers in the small moments of everyday life. Through his metanarrative, Little Dog seeks to break this chain of trauma by simply recognising the dysfunction, giving him the ability to challenge it. 

Being a queer immigrant is another facet of his identity he feels shame towards. Throughout the narrative, Vuong expertly depicts the euphoria, the confusion, the shame and the fear of growing up queer in a marginalised community, where your relationship is both a point of solace and a source of pain.

Another beautiful facet of Vuong’s writing is the retrospective reflection awarded to the form of letter writing. Vuong provides new insights and perspectives as he writes to the past with the knowledge and experience of his present self. His letter is filled with moments of poetic declarations of truth, and this introspective, philosophical rendering is what makes his prose so distinct. Vuong’s consistent commentary on memory contributes to the novel’s intimate tone, and the readers are left feeling as if we are eavesdropping on a conversation between a dysfunctional (yet completely loveable) family. This playfully distorts the boundaries of memoir in a wholly original way; his lived experiences are relatable for many, but the filter through which Vuong interprets the world is strikingly unique.


There are many challenging thematic concerns in Vuong’s work, so this isn't your typical novel where you are eager to race to the end. It reads more like a poetry collection, with digressions and observations loosely tied together by theme and setting. By the novel's conclusion, we are left to meditate on all the evidence that we are “briefly gorgeous” – and then we are gone.


Legends & Lattes by Travis Baldree

Reviewed by Daisy Young


Autumn is well and truly underway, meaning it’s time for hot drinks and cosy books. Everyone needs a palate cleanser now and then, and Baldree’s Legends & Lattes is the perfect recommendation. The cover immediately sets the expectations – High Fantasy. Low Stakes. Good Company – and proceeds to deliver them in full. You don’t have to be a fan of games like Dungeons and Dragons or Baldur’s Gate 3 to enjoy this book. What I will say, however, is that you have to embrace its slow pacing. It is designed to be enjoyed over a hot beverage of your choice and a cake (a rule I believe to be enforceable during cosy book season!)


Baldree’s narrative is simple and easy to follow, and his characters (despite belonging to races like Ratkin and Succubi) are fully fleshed out individuals. Each one is intentionally endearing and fits perfectly into the magical world of Thune. 


The world-building by Baldree is effortless and that is what makes it exceptional. He finds no need to explain why the world is the way it is, and trusts us as readers to suspend our own reality and allow ourselves to be lost in the story. Fantasy is, by nature, fantastical because it is fantasy. In this book, however, the fantasy theme itself is turned on its head and wrapped in a handmade, crocheted blanket. Viv is an Orc adventurer – a large woman who has killed and hunted for money. But she’s tired of that life now and wants to open Thune’s first coffee shop, so let’s focus on that instead:


“‘...I’m opening a coffee shop.’

Ansom looked nonplussed. ‘But why would you buy a horse stable for that?’

Viv didn’t answer for a moment, but then she stared hard at him. ‘Things don’t have to stay as what they started out as.’”


Viv’s goals throughout the story may seem small, but to her they are significant and that’s why we find ourselves rooting for her. She puts the effort in to make her business a success. She integrates with the community and finds friends in the unlikeliest of places. She tailors her business to meet the needs of her clientele (even bribing an old lady Mafioso with biscotti) – why wouldn’t we want her to succeed? There is the same level of joy to be found in celebrating small victories as there is in big ones and a kindness that is felt in all the characters. It is this kindness that Baldree revels in, and it is this which makes the book such a cosy and satisfying read.


I would also highly encourage anyone to check out the prequel to this story, Bookshops & Bonedust. It lays the background for many of Viv’s pre-existing relationships (and how she got her amazing sword!) and is another great example of a cosy fantasy book. 


The Pumpkin Spice Café by Laurie Gilmore

Reviewed by Marisha Puk


Are you looking for the perfect cosy, romantic and welcoming read to snuggle up under a blanket and read this Autumn? Then The Pumpkin Spice Café by Laurie Gilmore will be perfect for you. When I ordered this book, I was worried it might not live up to its autumnal name and, as this is my favourite season, I wanted something to read as the weather begins to get chillier. But it was wonderful and completely addictive (I’ve already ordered the author’s next book).


Gilmore, whose pen name is clearly inspired by TV's Gilmore Girls, begins the story with Jeanie – a woman who has spent years trying to succeed in the big city. She moves to a small town to start all over again after her boss dies, taking over her aunt’s coffee shop, named The Pumpkin Spice Café. And it’s there that she meets a new man slathered in flannel – and even finds a pet. This romance doesn’t leave you guessing whether it’ll work out, and it’s a great book for those nights when you just want something happy to read. The story ends on a high and leads onto her next book, The Cinnamon Bun Book Store.

Overall, this was one of my favourite reads this year and it’s no wonder Gilmore is a Sunday Times bestseller. I completely recommend you snuggle up with this read before the season is over!

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