Honest "Bird" Bennett is a young Black girl with a hunger to learn what lies beyond the walls she shares with her mother, Maddy, and her grandmother, Odelia. Their home resonates with the hum of Maddy's sewing machine, echoes of Bird preparing supper, and Odelia's stories of times past. The women live in Bennettsville, Illinois, a freedmen's town established by Bird's great-grandfather, where rural life pulses with church song and where peace is fragile with the neighboring white town, Tuckersville. As Bird comes of age, she must reckon with turbulence at home and with what it means to fall in love with a childhood friend. As an adult, rejecting a life of self-denial, Bird spreads her wings and finds a new home in Harlem. After a decade of growth and loss, she is summoned back to Bennettsville to confront her kin and her past as Tuckersville residents try to drive Black families from their own land.
In Belonging to the Air: A Novel, author Avery Irons follows one family's intergenerational experience of the Great Migration. Among the novel's cast of characters are a blind matriarch, women who heal with herbs, and queer lovers. Irons's evocative and lyrical prose imagines a world in which these complicated characters try to care for one another in a country that does not care about them. History talks to and through itself as elders confront youngsters and as racism shapeshifts in rural and urban settings across the decades. With dialogue that jumps off the page and rings with a truth that lingers, Belonging to the Air urges readers to think about how constructions of race, love, and freedom have―and have not―changed over time, demanding that we consider the wisdom of our inner selves while we listen to that of our elders.
The story of Honest "Bird" Bennett is profoundly deep and heartfelt. Navigating adolescence, coming of age, and learning the harsh reality of life, Avery Irons weaves a fantastic tale of survival and determination. This book held wonderful points of prose that stop you in your tracks and make you ponder the profundity of what has been written.
Unfortunately, I just feel like the story drags a bit. There is movement and direction, of course, but it's just not at a speed that made me feel engaged or curious. This is a beautiful novel if you're looking for something to slow down and enjoy reading, but not if you're looking for punchy lit fic.
Thank you to NetGalley and University Press of Kentucky for an ARC of this book.
Belonging to the Air is a quiet, luminous novel that asks the reader to slow down and truly listen to history, to family, and to the inner voice that insists on becoming more.
Avery Irons writes with a lyrical tenderness that makes everyday moments feel weighted with meaning. From the rhythms of domestic life in Bennettsville to Bird’s later years in Harlem, the novel captures how place shapes identity, and how leaving home does not free us from it so much as deepen our understanding of it. Honest “Bird” Bennett is a compelling protagonist: curious, observant, and brave in her refusal to live a life of self-denial.
What stayed with me most was the intergenerational texture of the story. The women in Bird’s life,her mother, her grandmother, the elders of the community,carry memory, love, and harm in equal measure. The novel does not flatten them into symbols; instead, it allows contradiction, tenderness, and silence to coexist. The exploration of Black queer life is handled with care and grace, woven naturally into the fabric of family and community rather than treated as an aside.
This is not a fast or flashy book, but it is a deeply rewarding one. Its power lies in accumulation: of voice, of history, of feeling. By the time Bird is called back home, the emotional weight of that return feels fully earned.
A moving, thoughtful novel about belonging, inheritance, and the courage it takes to choose oneself. I’ll be thinking about this story long after turning the final page.
I absolutely adored Belonging to the Air by Avery Irons. A short read, the author did a good job unpacking the familial trauma and expectations hefted upon Black women. I enjoyed exploring racism, sexism, and homophobia from inside the confines of a Black community. While no one is forced to avoid a sidewalk when seeing a White person, the fears and traditions of marginalized people can still cultivate bias and inequality. Time jumping through different points of Bird’s life as she went from adolescence to adulthood was a cool technique to explore 1920s and 1930s America from the perspective of a well-to-do Black woman.
I found the main character, Honest, nicknamed Bird, to be an interesting and likable narrator. In a lot of ways, she is the product of fear. Her mother’s fear of vulnerability, her grandmother’s fear of failure, and her town’s fear of difference. Bennettsville, an all-Black town founded by Bird’s great-great grandfather, is traditional and not accepting. Bird was born out of wedlock, a fact that the townsfolk won’t let go. Maddy, Bird’s mother, is detached and cool as a result of her anger and ostracization. While she loves Bird immensely, she has an uncompromising idea of how to raise her. Odelia, Bird’s grandmother, is more open with her affection, but also tries to subdue her queerness. Bitterness obviously simmers. The bond of family runs strong for the Bennetts, but the rigid walls of it forces Bird out of the nest.
I loved the scenery of Harlem that Irons portrays. It’s bustling, but not in a cliched way, more in a “systematic cohesion of people” way. The New York crowd that Bird gets to know is quirky and complicated. One of her situationship partners was raped by a family member in an attempt to “straighten” her out. Bird ends up caring for said situationship’s son as his mother is sent to prison. Bird’s landlord who is a devout “fearer” of God, initially is intolerant to queer folks, but ends up being a support system for Bird as her world falls apart and rebuilds itself. I found it interesting how Bird isn’t ashamed of who she is, but actively chooses not to make herself known in lgbtqia+ circles. There are different ways to fight the system, and Bird prioritizes a consistent income and quietly being gay. Bird’s relationships (not just her romantic ones) read like a soap opera. Dramatic with a ton of interpersonal betrayals. I was happy for her when she found peace with a kind woman who challenges her own world outlook. Good for her.
Bennettsville was an interesting place to begin and end the novel. The community is loving, but can be judgy and inconsiderate. Bird returns home after more than a decade when word reaches her that the White men in the town over are more determined than ever to take Bennetville’s land. She decides to sell her land, but only for a fair price. Of course this gets her family home burnt down. While it was bittersweet, I was satisfied with the residents of Bennettsville leaving in all directions to find new homes. A lot of what Bird discovers throughout the book is that perspective can be as limiting as it can be eye-opening. Belonging isn’t just about a shared location, surrounding yourself with people who love you is what makes it count. I also liked that when Bird was in New York, Irons capitalized the term “Black,” but in the chapters that take place in Bennettsville, it’s lowercase. An interesting way to highlight how separate environments make us consider our identities and alter perspective, even in seemingly small ways.
There is a lot to unpack in this book, and I enjoyed almost every minute of it. My favorite character was Bird’s queer aunt, Vera, who introduces her niece to the possibility of giving love freely, even if living discreetly. The complexity of the women and their situations felt realistic, and I wanted things to work out. I would have liked to see occasional chapters from the perspectives of Bird’s mother and grandmother. Being so complicated and influential, hearing their narrative voices as they respond to mistakes and hard choices would have wrapped everything up for me. If an early 20th century look at race, gender, and sexuality interests you, I’d definitely give Belonging to the Air a go. It's vibrant with wokeness and full of love.
Thank you to NetGalley and University Press of Kentucky for an ARC in exchange for my honest review.
Belonging to the Air is a quietly assured work of fiction that explores identity, connection, and emotional displacement with restraint and clarity.
Avery Irons writes with a measured confidence, allowing the novel’s emotional weight to emerge gradually rather than through overt dramatization. The story is attentive to interior experience how characters process belonging, absence, and self-definition while remaining grounded in tangible moments and lived detail.
What stands out is the control of tone. The prose is deliberate and thoughtful, giving readers space to sit with uncertainty rather than rushing toward resolution. Irons resists easy answers, instead allowing ambiguity and reflection to carry meaning. This approach lends the novel a sense of authenticity and emotional credibility.
The pacing is steady and purposeful, favoring accumulation over spectacle. Small shifts in relationships and perception feel significant, reinforcing the book’s thematic focus on how belonging is formed, tested, and sometimes withheld.
As a forthcoming release, Belonging to the Air shows strong promise for readers drawn to introspective fiction that values emotional precision, atmosphere, and character driven storytelling. It is a composed and thoughtful novel that invites patient engagement and rewards attentiveness.
This was such a beautiful story of queerness, intergenerational trauma, love, womanhood and Resilience. I know I often say that words can’t describe or accurately portray what I’m feeling or how much I loved a book, but it’s true. Belonging in the Air is one of those books.
I learned so much by learning about Bird’s life. I’m ashamed to say there is a lot about black history that I do not know. I am grateful I was able to learn some things I didn’t in school in this book. As a midwest woman, I loved that bird grew up in the midwest.
The way the author tells Bird’s story is ethereal. All the characters serve their part and are important in their own way. There was so many aspects of this story that surprised me, that I wasn’t expecting. Especially when Bird’s grandma sent her to live with her Aunt. The things that Bird discovered while there was life changing.
The Prose is just as beautiful as the plot. There were so many quotes I wanted to highlight. It was poetic the way the author described things and told Bird’s story. What a powerful look at race, culture, sexuality and gender in the Early 20th century. I will definitely be purchasing the physical copy and reading this again and again.
Such an illuminating story about queerness and Black identity during the Great Migration. I loved how Bird and her mama stayed true to themselves fully aware of the cost of living in their own truth, steadfast and unflinching in a world that kept telling them otherwise.