I've fallen in love with Queenie
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
The blurb
Queenie Jenkins can't cut a break. Well, apart from the one from her long term boyfriend, Tom. That's definitely just a break though. Definitely not a break up. Then there's her boss who doesn't seem to see her and her Carribbean family who don't seem to listen (if it's not Jesus or water rates, they're not interested). She's trying to fit in two worlds that don't really understand her. It's no wonder she's struggling.
She was named to be queen of everything. So why is she finding it so hard to rule her own life?
A darkly comic and bitingly subversive take on life, love, race and family, QUEENIE will have you nodding in recognition, crying in solidarity, and rooting for this unforgettable character every step of the way.
The Review
I have fallen in love with Queenie. It's been a long time since I've come across a protagonist that I rooted for as much as this. She is such a wonderfully flawed character and yet incredibly relatable. And let's be honest - she really shouldn't be relatable to me - after all, Queenie is a young, black woman living in London - not exactly equivalent with my white, middle-class, privileged experience. In her review, JoJo Moyes puts it perfectly:
"It took me into a world I didn't know: that of a 25 year-old black woman living in London, straddling two cultures and slotting neatly into neither".
This book is beautifully plot driven and so perhaps it's not a surprise I liked it so much. The arc of Queenie's story, although we only follow her for a year or two, most definitely has a beginning, a middle and an end. Right from the start it's clear she has a very damaged view of herself and her worth, which only deteriorates when her long term boyfriend calls for a break in their relationship. Queenie is suddenly bereft, lost without the person who gave her the validation she craved. And so she goes looking for it elsewhere, in quite an extreme manner.
It would be naive of me to comment on the authenticity of the relationships depicted within Queenie's African-Caribbean family. But they felt incredibly real to me. It made me aware of a cultural view to mental illness that I was ignorant of before. It subtly made me realise why those from certain backgrounds are far less likely to seek help, due to the stigma that still persists for them.
Queenie's story also shines a light on the everyday sexism that persists and every woman is all too aware of in some shape or form. Her experience is obviously far different to mine, as a woman of colour, but I couldn't help agreeing with her despondence after arranging to get a friend to accompany her to view a rental property:
"Is this what growing into an adult woman is - having to predict and accordingly arrange for the avoidance of sexual harassment?"
So many moments in this book highlight the areas in which the way you experience the world is wildly different (plus more dangerous and depressing) simply because of your gender.
I also really identified the way the author describes Queenie's decline in mental health. She had a way of describing anxiety that really spoke to me. When Queenie finally talks to a therapist, this sentence could have come straight out of my own head:
"I feel like for a while I've been carrying ten balls of wool. And one ball fell, so I dropped another to catch it, but still didn't catch it. Then two more started to unravel, and in trying to save those, I lost another one"
Queenie's escalating behaviour is a hallmark sign of someone starting to spiral down a dark path. And no matter how much her friends and family love her in their own way, this was one realisation she had to come to herself.
Some people really don't like this book - it's ripe for mixed reviews. In reading through some, this seems to be partly due to the extremes of Queenie's behaviour - she falls into an incredibly self-destructive cycle that is, quite honestly, painful to read at points. There is graphic detail about some quite violent sex, which I imagine could be quite triggering for some people (and I don't use 'triggering' here in any derogatory or judgemental sense). Queenie is self-obsessed, as people tend to be when going through a breakdown. It probably doesn't help that some blurbs for this book have it billed as the 'black Bridget Jones'. Nope. Bridget Jones is silly and light-hearted in a way that Queenie just isn't. Yes, it has comedy and yes it is about love, relationships and heartbreak - but as far as I'm concerned that's where any comparisons should end. This has a rawness to it that I haven't experienced in a while
This isn't a perfect book and occasionally I found myself getting annoyed by Queenie's narcissism. But it's gritty, darkly funny, illuminating, heartfelt and very accessible. It deals with so many important themes - race, sexism, culture, mental health, and yet does so deftly - it still felt to me that a story was being told, not a lecture being delivered.
It feels fitting to finish this review with a quote from Queenie's therapist, which rings true to me, now more than ever:
"The road to recovery is not linear. It's not straight. It's a bumpy path, with lots of twists and turns. But you're on the right track"