Moving cyclically, shifting with the changing of the weather, the novel is composed of story fragments that follow half a year in the life of a trans Latina living on the Texas/Tamaulipas border. It is, at turns: a literary novel that reflects on the act of writing poetry; a sci-fi novel that describes the unreal consequences of the surveillance and militarization of the border; a trans lesbian erotic novel and catalog of fantasies; a trans woman's memoir that relates her struggles to be accepted by her family, find community in the deep South, and untangle the shame around her body and her nonbinary identity; a political novel that critically examines the role of race in the narrator's communities and in her own life as a non-Black Latina learning about anti-Blackness; a Latin@ slice-of-life novel that is steeped in the culture, folklore, and supernatural reality of a Mexican family living on the border.
I finished Otros Valles the other night and had one of those big endless bereft feelings, which seems more like a change in atmospheric pressure or sensory perception, and you realize you are in bed and it’s very late and you should switch to rest mode after all that traveling. I want to write a proper review once capacity allows. I want anyone that respects me to read this book
Very strong, readable prose, and the very very subtle speculative elements and incorporation of "folklore" vignettes worked well in this biomythography of sorts. There were moments where I thought, this is pretty didactic and perhaps needs another round of edits, but this is an indie trans book from 2014 and such was the way of things.
Finally. I am so thankful to have read this after so long.
The worst part about Otros Valles is how little it has aged. It's one of those "more relevant than ever" books: haven't trans women of colour been left behind in so much of this new wave of trans representation in media? Jamie Berrout's authorial self-immolation underlines it effectively.
This is a really cool book, you should totally read it. I wish I'd read it when it came out, but I was still in high school, sadly. It's the mirror-universe blueprint for the trans A Novel, one that isn't pretty much innately white and kinda navel gazing 24/7 like Nevada is. Expect me to write something more substantial about it in future, and expect more substantial writing to involve: analysing the "golden age of trans literature" from my small view, Otros Valles' history and relation to Nevada, Jamie Berrout and her views, Mutual Aid Printing and more. For now, read it if you can.
This book is amazing. It truly is all of the things the description says all at once. To start with, the prose itself is absolutely gorgeous, evocative yet down to earth--Berrout doesn't stumble once in her voice. I'm so taken with how relentlessly up-to-date this novel is; I would submit this to that one putz who claimed it is impossible to write a novel in a world with cell phones and skype and netflix. More than that, the book engages with the cutting-edge of ideas about race, gender, sexuality, and other things, in an incredibly graceful way (there is even a section of notes at the end giving credit to those whose ideas are drawn upon). At no point does it feel gimmicky, instead it all seems like a natural part of the narrator's experience and thoughts.
This is a very intellectual novel in the sense that we spend much of the time inside the narrator's head, but at the same time it is very sensual. There is a beautiful sense of place, something that I always love in books. There's also this sense of mystery being an almost mundane part of life that I adore.
There's so much more to this book but I can't quite find words for it right now. All I can say is, this book deserves to be read by so many more people in so many different genres.
“Whenever we talk on the phone there are two subjects we get stuck on for hours: the state of sci-fi (speculative) television and the state of tech innovation. He likes talking about specific projects, how specific experiments have opened up entire fields of research and the ripple effects they cause in other fields, in tech, in culture. I always end up talking about the bigger picture and how we’re constantly in the future, constantly moving through the imagined futures (and myths) of past generations and our own, how the problems of oppression and inequality carry over unresolved and normalized, our dreams for the future and our nightmares endlessly recast. So the answer to his question is easy, I write it in pencil next to his words, The future is here. The future is now. Why is that so heartbreaking?”
First of all I think it may not be my place to rate or judge this book, as a trans man with the privilege of white skin, this book was not meant for me, even though I thoroughly appreciated it.
Also I will leave a content warning here for mentions of suicidal thoughts, disordered eating, experienced racism and dysphoria.
But as I rate and write about most books I read this days, it would also not be right to leave out this book and in doing so, participate in another form of erasure. So I will still share my thoughts, but urge you to read the book for yourself.
Ok that all being said, I find it hard to rate this book. It was at times beautiful, at times mystical and at times truly depressing because parts of it are so familiar, even with my much more privileged background.
One thing that for me personally took me out of the book sometimes was the amount of political standpoints written in the way they were. I appreciate the points made, however I think the narrative would have been more evocative for me if the points were more entangled and intertwined with the stories told. It took me out of the atmosphere sometimes in the way those parts were written.
But overall, a beautiful book, written by a beautiful voice.
Always hard to write a good review in the midst of a book hangover, and I'm also not entirely who the book is for. That being said, this novel's semi-existence is an indictment on how the (white) trans literary scene works. The book's both beautiful and cutting, focused and all-encompassing. Ultimately, it felt warming, particularly as someone who is disabled and suffers from anxiety, though not just because of that.
Read it. It's truth, today as it was ten years ago.
Oh, what a good read. The combination of biographical elements with the quiet undertones of spirituality & supernatural happenings, the truth that comes with trans writing by trans authors, must read.
Didactic, under-edited, and abrupt. It feels incomplete, and not artistically. That said, as the book itself asks, could we expect anything else from someone in her position? More than anything else, I pray that Jamie is doing well now, wherever she is.
This book is more of a memoir than a novel. It explores very personally the experiences of the author with what I think is a small degree of fictionalization. It intersperses this narrative with stories from folklore (often cryptic and sardonic) and descriptions of the systemic issues facing the south Texas area where she lives. There's a lot of talk about politics in this book, not framed by any event or experience but just as if the author/main character is talking to the reader, lecturing them or explaining things to them. It's clearly something the author spends a lot of time thinking about. It can, at times, feel like it is partly a political manifesto or a work of political theory. I didn't really enjoy this as it's not what I look for in the books that I read, but I understand why the author included it. I agree with her about most things so it does not feel as grating as it might for someone else, but this can also make it worse as it then becomes a repetition of things I already know.
I liked the author's writing but not her editing. There are many typos and some words are accidentally transposed for other words. She also occasionally makes strange choices with words and sentence structure (both a positive and a negative thing), probably due to translation in her head from Spanish to English or vice-versa. There is actually a lot of Spanish in this book, almost as much as there is English. This isn't a complaint, of course, but it made the book harder for me to read since I don't speak Spanish. I had to do a lot of translation. I think it would be received best by a bilingual reader, as that seems like the way it's really meant to be read. In many respects, it seems like the author is mostly writing to or for other people like herself, which is a category I fall into in some ways and not others.
It was a weird experience reading this book because I saw so much of myself in it. Also being a poor, mentally ill, trans woman, I recognized most of her thoughts and feelings. I've never identified as much with any other book I've read. But this also made the book boring to me at times. Because it is mostly an exploration of her everyday life and interior thoughts, it feels somewhat mundane for them to so echo my own. She says repeatedly that she does not like or trust white trans women, which is very understandable but I can't help but take it personally. I think it is intended personally. I feel like we have more in common than she believes.
I guess my main complaint about this book is that it doesn't go anywhere. I liked the ending, I liked that there was at least one small glint of happiness and hope, but it did not connect to a lot of things. The book seems inconsistent and uncertain of its goals. I liked the parts about the valley where she lives, the culture and climate there. It's a place living in the shadow of unspoken violence, and the author expresses this well. I think she is doing something important from a representation standpoint, both demographically and ideologically, by making this, by writing and publishing things like this. But I guess this book wasn't what I was hoping it would be. I would recommend it for others to read but I do not think I will read it again.
It's awkward and yet self affirming to read a book that so perfectly reflects pain you've felt. I had to set this down a few times and digest things, but kept picking it back up to see it through to the end. I'm glad I found this book.