Source of book: NetGalley (thank you)
Relevant disclaimers: none
Please note: This review may not be reproduced or quoted, in whole or in part, without explicit consent from the author.
And remember: I am not here to judge your drag, I mean your book. Books are art and art is subjective. These are just my personal thoughts. They are not meant to be taken as broader commentary on the general quality of the work. Believe me, I have not enjoyed many an excellent book, and my individual lack of enjoyment has not made any of those books less excellent or (more relevantly) less successful.
Further disclaimer: Readers, please stop accusing me of trying to take down “my competition” because I wrote a review you didn’t like. This is complete nonsense. Firstly, writing isn’t a competitive sport. Secondly, I only publish reviews of books in the subgenre where I’m best known (queer romcom) if they’re glowing. And finally: taking time out of my life to read an entire book, then write a detailed review about it that a handful of people on GR will look at would be a profoundly inefficient and ineffective way to damage the careers of other authors. If you can’t credit me with simply being a person who loves books and likes talking about them, at least credit me with enough common sense to be a better villain.
*******************************************
Review contains mild spoilers.
Ahhh, this was lovely. I kind of legitimately teared up at the end, partly over the book but mostly because I just feel strongly about young women in STEM.
In any case, this is a charming YA romance that also—and this is very much my perspective—explores the issue facing (young) women, especially young WOC, in STEM with a touch more nuance that I’ve generally seen. I mean, there is an opposing team in the fighting robots competition (yes, this book is also about building robots—be still my beating my heart) who are very much “hur hur girls suck” but they’re on page twice and they're not actually positioned as more than irritating-in-the-moment. Because, the truth is, the issue of women in STEM isn’t really “hur hur girls suck” any more than queerphobia is really strangers in the street calling you the f-word. It’s essentially an institutional problem in that we basically tell AFAB people (and POC) that maths and hard science aren’t “for” them in about twenty-seven six gazillion subtle and hard-to-challenge ways, and then we use the fact there aren’t as many women in these fields to justify the initial exclusion as well as implementing new ones. Basically, it’s a fucking mess and—with my dayjob hat on, as well as my human being hat—I hate it.
Anyway, what we have here is the story of Bel. She has to change to schools due to her parents’ complicated divorce and, once her talent for engineering is spotted by a well-meaning teacher (a genuinely well-meaning teacher, I hasten to add) she ends up joining the school’s robotics club. At first—despite her instinct for design—she has trouble fitting in: the boys are inclined to disregard her and the only other girl is actively hostile. Eventually, though, she manages to forge a fragile peace with the over-achieving robotics team captain, golden boy Theo Luna, and this leads to wider acceptance in the team as a whole. What follows is a fair bit of fighting robot realness, an incredibly sweet love story between two people who are, basically, a pair of academically gifted nerds, a really nuanced exploration of identity and self-agency, and—without ever getting preachy about it—an unremitting affirmation of the place of women (including WOC) in STEM.
There are many many things to love about this book, from the witty energetic writing, to the deft characterisation, and the effortless diversity of the cast. While I can’t speak to the engineering, I can also confirm that the physics is rock solid—not that I’m claiming authority or expertise over the entirety of the field, but I do think if you’re making a case for women in STEM you kind of need to know what you’re talking about, either because you have a background in it yourself or you’ve done some research (especially because I strongly agree with one of the central tenets of the book itself: STEM isn’t hard, or at least no harder than anything else, you just have to put the work in and anyone can put the work in, regardless of their gender identity, race, academic background or how they were socialised). But, for me, what I extra mostest loved was that … this story doesn’t really have a villain? I mean, okay, there are the two "hur hur" two boys at the robot wars regional/finals but while they’re annoying they’re on page for, like, two seconds and nobody really sees them as a credible threat.
Or rather, the only villain is … err … systematic inequality.
For example, Bel’s parents are divorced, because Bel’s father cheated on Bel’s mum, perhaps repeatedly, and—as well it might—this has caused deep rifts in the family, including where the children stay, their sense of conflicted loyalty and love to both parents, and the inadvertent pressures both parents put on them in terms of feeling the need to navigate this very adult situation that should, in fact, not really be their problem. What’s interesting about this is that Bel’s father is very much allowed to be a good and loving father (even if he’s also clearly a terrible husband) and Bel's mother is allowed to be good and loving mother who feels independently fucked about what went down with her husband (which means she can take it a bit personally if her kids spend time with him).
Similarly, the AP physics teacher into whose class Bel is transferred is initially is … how can I put this … a non-ideal teacher for her, albeit in subtle and unintentional ways, for example he (unconsciously) prioritises the boys in the class, is more engaged and responsive with them, encourages them in ways he doesn’t the girls, positions benches for the boys nearer his desk, is always happy to be asked for help but never volunteers assist to the girls the way he does instinctively for the boys, things like that. When Bel tries to push back a little against some of this, he gently suggests to her that she needs to be a better team player. Basically, these are all non-malicious, non-invasive ways that a teacher can fail to full understand their own biases. But I also appreciated that Mac (the teacher) wasn’t an out-and-out bad ‘un. He’s clearly passionate about his subject and committed to his students. There’s no direct reckoning with any of this but by the end of the book he admits to Bel that he’s learned a lot from her and we can hope he’s a more self-aware (and consequently better) teacher in the future.
Where the book’s willingness to embrace complexity shines most specifically, though, is with Neelam, the only other girl in the robotics club. Despite Bel’s best attempts to connect with her, Neelam is angry, frustrated and unfriendly. And while it can sometimes be … problematic … to portray women as being in conflict with each other (especially since the ‘evil other woman’ trope still looms over us a bit) I actually think it’s also important to allow women characters to be specific individuals who experience unique interpersonal dynamics with other people (including other women). Obviously it’s great when marginalised people can support each other but the automatic assumption that people marginalised within their context are obligated to be instant best buds is … kinda messed up. Intra-community conflict IS a real thing. And Neelam does, in fact, have her reasons for her anger and frustration, and her anger and frustration with Bel in particular. But also, when it comes down to it, she is there for Bel and, in return, Bel is there for her, I guess the point being, that you can still support someone because you recognise their experiences and their struggles, and want them to succeed, but you don’t have to be super snuggly besties to do it. I should also add that Bel has female friends who are not involved in the robotics club: and I really enjoyed this gentle teasing apart of support and friendship. Like, both are great, and you can’t really have a non-supportive friendship, but you don’t HAVE to be friends with someone to support them. I felt that was a subtle and unusual relationship dynamic to explore, especially in YA, especially as regards women in STEM.
The other theme I appreciated the book taking on very gently was that of (and here we’re getting a bit more explicitly spoilery) failure. At one point the heroine, discovering her love of engineering, is encouraged to apply for MIT. She does not, however, get in. She does, of course, find her own path after this but I kind of loved the fact we see a YA heroine want something very sincerely, do her best to get it, and still not … get it? For reasons that are probably fairly justified. It kind of honestly took me by surprise when this happened—I’m very used to feel-good romances and YA stories following a pretty direct line from lostness to commitment to success entirely the way the character envisages it. The fact that Bel’s story can encompass disappointments and setbacks (and all the emotions attendant on such experiences), without these things ruining her life is refreshing and, I felt, very vital to a story that I hope a lot of young people will read and be inspired by. After all, growing up is very much an exercise in figuring out what you want and then figuring out how to get it, even if (especially if) your initial attempt to get it didn’t pan out perfectly. Whether that’s building a robot, going to college, or falling for someone.
I will also add that Bel’s insecurities and her brushes with real and significant failure serve to make her a very three dimensional and relatable heroine. Again, this might just be me and my oldness speaking, but I like the way that she is allowed to have natural ability, but that her natural abilities are never allowed to substitute for actual work. I’m afraid the hero, Teo, didn’t come across quite as successfully to me: he’s very charming and I got the broad outlines of his character (he’s the son of a very successful tech billionaire, who puts a huge amount of pressure on him to succeed) but, even though the book is told in dual POV between him and Bel, his emotional arc felt less coherent. There’s a bit near the end where circumstances force Teo to let go of his ruthless control of everything and accept that his team can support him as well as be supported by him but that’s … like … one incident? He does also tell Bel that before he met her he felt like he was drowning, and couldn’t be himself, but … I don’t know. For me, his story didn’t cohere into a meaningful growth arc quite as cleanly as Bel’s does. I mean, it might just be that “I was lost, now I’ve realised I’m good at something and I have an idea for my future” is more accessible then … um, “I feel I need to control everything because I’m so brilliant and my dad?” Of course, Teo’s fine at the end, so he must figure it out. But I didn’t feel as intimately involved in his side of the narrative than I did Bel’s.
I also wasn’t entirely convinced about the early “academic rivals” part of their relationship because it felt a bit forced. Like, it requires Teo to dismiss Bel either because of unexamined sexism or personal bullshit—and later she does decide she hasn’t been great to him either, but I didn’t really see any evidence of that? I just saw him using privilege and his position as team captain to disempower her. Again, it’s not a big deal and once Bel and Teo are a team their relationship is delightful and mutually supportive … but I do think the “we are rivals for 5 minutes” bit didn’t reflect super well on Teo and came across to me as an external deployment of a trope than a natural dynamic between two particular people.
Random nit-picks aside, though, I loved this. By the end, I had so many young women in STEM warm fuzzies that I was sobbing happily into my duvet. I wish I had, like, twenty-seven daughters I could give this book to, although I’m pretty sure they’d refuse to read it because their embarrassing dad had foisted it on them. If you, however, have twenty-seven (or even one) daughter to foist this on as an embarrassing parent, I strongly encourage you to start foisting. Also read it yourself because it’s a brilliant balance of nuance, complexity, wit and tenderness.
(Oh, and if you’re a fan of The Atlas Six, this is the, um, non-penname—is this even a thing—of Olivie Blake. Super impressive genre-hopping from this author.)
Edit: Wow, I posted this in the early hours of the morning and it was a touch incoherent. I've re-edited it to make actual sense to humans.