I don't even know where to begin with this book. I feel like so much happened and I'm still dizzy; my thoughts are trying to catch up with my feelings. Basically, this book is amazing. You have a queer main character with an unpronounceable name, who sometimes goes by Mya, a non-binary character of colour who's an activist, at least one other queer character of colour, whose particular brand of activism sometimes spills into the territory of terrorism, men with southern drawls who horse nap in their spare time, and a kid who thinks he's an angel - essentially, the kind of people who rarely get to see the light of day in fiction. And it's wonderful. I had no idea I needed this book in my life till I was reading it, and I'm pretty sure any book I read from now on will not be complex enough, queer enough, or culturally diverse enough.
I feel like the plot is the least important aspect of this novel; it mostly follows Mya, either from her perspective or of those she is in contact with, as she travels and interacts with different people. What's important isn't the story, but the people - who they are, how they react, what they do and what they know and what they believe in. At the core, this novel is almost a religious text; it has obvious references to religion, like Christianity, but this isn't what I mean. I mean that this book is about belief and faith and standing for those things. It is no accident that two of the characters are activists, nor that another runs a church-like institute. Nor is it a mistake that politics and faith are so closely aligned. Mya, constantly surrounded by people who believe things, who want things, is an unaligned point of chaos who hikes from place to place, shaped by each encounter. But she always leaves before she feels that she is compromised. Chavisa Woods explores what it is to be moulded by those around us, by love, and by our own actions. It is a tale of morality, while pointing out that morality, while black and white in one person's eyes, can be grey in the view of another.
This is all upheld by Woods' incredible writing. One moment you have Mya struggling with the thought of being confined or being ashamed of, and the next you have a political discussion slipped in so well that you barely notice the transition. One thing I loved was that although Mya is traditionally uneducated, Woods' own education is not invisible, with references to Marx, Lucy Irigary and Jeanette Winterson, making for a clever landscape from which Mya gleans information about an array of subjects.
It's perhaps not the easiest book to read, sometimes being strange and almost cryptic, but in a larger sense the elements fit together, like one of the puzzles that Mya is so fond of. It is by far, one of the cleverest, well constructed, most diverse books I've ever read, and I know that I will have to reread it to fully glean its depth.