Once again, we can start off the review with a little laughter at my expense. I looked at the cover of Bright Lights, Dark Nights, combined that with the fact that I knew it was illustrated, and made myself very excited for an interracial romance superhero book. At first I was very disappointed to realize that the superhero thing was one hundred percent in my own head, aside from some small mentions of superhero comics. Even knowing better, that cover still screams superhero book to me. Actually Bright Lights, Dark Nights (which I keep mistyping as Dark Knights fittingly) is more of a contemporary Lies We Tell Ourselves.
Emond handles a very current subject with a deft and light hand. As he says in the Author’s Note, “Books work best as a conversation not a monologue.” The goal of Bright Lights, Dark Nights isn’t to lecture the reader and deliver a precise moral. There are a lot of questions left dangling, intentionally, at the close of the novel. Emond’s goal is to make people think and question both society and themselves. This, I think, he achieves summarily.
The surface plot of racial tensions in a big American city is obviously one controversial not just now but for oh all of American history. Society’s come a long way in some respects but there’s a really long way to go. Bright Lights, Dark Nights walks hands in hands with #blacklivesmatter pointing out systemic racism, even in people who never thought of themselves that way and truly don’t believe such horrible things, like Walter Wilcox.
Walter’s father is a cop who gets caught up in a scandal and becomes known on the internet as #racistcop. It’s a very dramatic story and one so real and current that it’s really tough to handle. This is fiction certainly but it’s a very clear reflection of what our country is currently going through. That said, I think Emond deals with everything in the least dramatic possible way. That’s not to say that dark shit doesn’t go down because it does, but Emond doesn’t amp up the drama just for drama’s sake. There are a lot of quiet moments too.
The lens through which all of this is viewed is Walter, a shy, nigh invisible kid. He’s got issues from his parent’s divorce and is pretty much afraid of everything. Even before his dad’s case, his life starts to change when Naomi, his friend’s sister, shows some interest in him. Though he doesn’t get why she’s into him, he pushes himself out of his shell. Their romance is sweet and cute and sarcastic.
I talk a lot about how I hate the trope of forbidden romance. It’s so obnoxious to me when everything and everyone is trying to keep a couple apart despite their pure, perfect love. In Bright Lights, Dark Nights, that’s sort of the case. However, the external pressures are also the internal ones because what Emond wants to look at is that deeply internalized racism indoctrinated by society. The romance doesn’t detract from the message but advances it.
I’d have liked to see, I think, some other perspectives. Also in the Author’s Note, Emond says that “once the topic is presented, [he wants] to converse through the characters, [he wants] to talk about it from each point of view.” However, in Bright Lights, Dark Nights, we just have Walter’s first person POV. Walter’s a good narrator, but, much as he tries to be non-judgmental, he still has his own view, and I’d like to see what was going on in Naomi’s head or Jason’s or Lester’s.
Bright Lights, Dark Nights really surprised me. I actually read it straight through. There’s something really compelling about this book, and the illustrations don’t hurt, though they didn’t really advance the story for me.