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The Death of Baseball
Former Little League champion Kimitake 'Clyde' Koba finds strength in the belief that he is the reincarnation of Marilyn Monroe as he struggles to escape the ghost of his brother and his alcoholic father.
Born on Yom Kippur, teen prodigy Raphael Dweck has been told his whole life that he has a special purpose in God’s plan. The only problem is, he can’t shake off his doubts, his urges, or the trail of trouble and ruin that follow in his wake.
A decade later, Raphael and 'Marilyn' find each other wandering the plastic-bright streets of Hollywood and set out to make a documentary about the transmigration of souls. But when the roleplaying goes too far, they find themselves past the point of no return in their quest to prove who and what they are to their families, God, the world, and themselves.
Japan and Israel collide in the City of Angels in this explosive psychological novel about faith, idol worship, and the search for identity by the author of Jerusalem Ablaze, Stories of Love and Other Obsessions.
Born on Yom Kippur, teen prodigy Raphael Dweck has been told his whole life that he has a special purpose in God’s plan. The only problem is, he can’t shake off his doubts, his urges, or the trail of trouble and ruin that follow in his wake.
A decade later, Raphael and 'Marilyn' find each other wandering the plastic-bright streets of Hollywood and set out to make a documentary about the transmigration of souls. But when the roleplaying goes too far, they find themselves past the point of no return in their quest to prove who and what they are to their families, God, the world, and themselves.
Japan and Israel collide in the City of Angels in this explosive psychological novel about faith, idol worship, and the search for identity by the author of Jerusalem Ablaze, Stories of Love and Other Obsessions.
- GenresJewish
403 pages, Kindle Edition
Published May 21, 2019
2 people are currently reading
1389 people want to read
About the author
Orlando Ortega-Medina
7 books72 followersOrlando Ortega-Medina is a London-based author and lawyer. His debut collection of short stories, Jerusalem Ablaze (2017), was shortlisted for the UK’s Polari First Book Prize, establishing him as a compelling storyteller. Building on this success, Ortega-Medina has released a series of gripping novels, including The Death of Baseball (2019), The Savior of 6th Street (2020), and The Fitful Sleep of Immigrants (2023), the latter of which was shortlisted for the Polari Book Prize 2024. His latest novel, Emerald Road (2025), is published by Amble Press.
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Displaying 1 - 26 of 26 reviews
November 23, 2019
2.5 stars.
I was immediately attracted to this book because of it's stunning cover and after reading the synopsis, I was intrigued enough to request the title to read. What I got was vastly different to anything to what I anticipated and after finishing this book one day ago, I'm still at quite a loss as to how to review it. If there's one thing that's for sure is that this book really needs to have content warnings for readers at the start because this covers some very dark and emotionally wrought topics that readers may find distasteful (abuse--physical, emotional, mental, sexual assault, incest, violence, homophobia/transphobia).
If you're looking for a happy book or a book where lessons are learned after trying times, this is not it. There was no happiness or resolution for any character in this book and it was to be honest, fairly depressing. What really has me scratching my head about this book is its purpose -- what was the author trying to say? What was the author trying to communicate?
The story was separated into four parts. First we're introduced to Kimitake Koba, or Clyde or as he believes he is Marilyn Monroe. He's a young American-Japanese boy who lives with a submissive mother who doesn't speak English and an alcoholic and physically abusive father. Soon after we're introduced to Raphael Dweck, or Ralph. He's smart, a talented artist and is also deeply religious, but ever since moving to America, he has been troubled and develops kleptomaniac tendencies, which leads him to a great deal of trouble. Much of the story focuses on his time in Israel, when he is sent back after undergoing therapy for his kleptomania. The story then comes back to America when Clyde and Ralph officially meet, and the consequences of the actions during their time together.
I have to say that there's something about Ortega-Medina's prose that, while fairly straightforward, is quite beautiful. The descriptive writing was not only what kept my attention hooked but it is also what made it so difficult to put it down for sleep and work. I enjoyed the exploration of religion, as well as the rich Jewish culture that the author explored and Jewish traditions that I never knew before. It's not often that I've read a book with a young adult where religion played such a big and defining role in their life, so that to me was also a refreshing take. That said there was more about this book that troubled me.
Both characters and their life stories are incredibly complex. Their youth is filled with harrowing experiences that involve much physical, mental and emotional abuse, which made this a very dark read. One topic that kept coming back in both their lives was incest; both boys developed semi-sexual relationships with their cousins and I did not understand why those relationships were necessary to the story. I understand their need to feel love and acceptance and getting those from their cousins, but there was no need for the relationship to turn sexual--not to mention the fact that it became sexual almost instantaneously.
I didn't particularly like both Clyde or Ralph, but despite Ralph being an incredibly self-serving asshole, he was actually the one that I felt the most sympathy for. His struggle to understand who he is and what his true purpose was against the expectations of his family and religion was very real. That's not to say that I really liked his character or the things that he did because he treated everyone in his life like they were disposable and was nothing but selfish, especially in moments when he could've been doing good. On the other hand, Clyde was portrayed as manic and it seemed to stem from his belief that he was Marilyn Monroe, and this is where I found how the author depicted Clyde as distasteful.
From the very beginning, you can sense that Clyde does not identify as a 'he' but because he believed he was Marilyn Monroe's spirit, that he was a 'she'. Yet throughout the latter half of the story, the author continues to identify Clyde as 'he', even when Clyde has fully embraced being Marilyn Monroe. This is also the point where the story really devolves for me because it seemed that the author was likening being transgender as being someone with a mental illness and that didn't sit right with me. As Clyde became more desperate to physically become a woman, the story not only became frenzied, but Clyde's character unravelled, leading to the tossing aside of their transgender identity for one of a mentally ill young man that took his obsession with a dead celebrity too far.
Another theme that is often repeated is how everything comes back around and although I can see how the author was trying to do that with the ending of the story, I felt that it was not only very rushed, but too outlandish and completely unbelievable. Which brings me back to the question I asked at the start: what was the author trying to say? Because I'm really not sure I understand what the purpose of all the character's suffering was. It also makes me wonder how 'The Death of Baseball' is a fitting title when it only played a very minor role at the start and end of the story. Overall, while the author was able to elicit a wide range of overwhelming emotions from me while reading this, I'm not really sure that I would recommend it to anyone for the reasons stated above.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publishers for the e-ARC in exchange for an honest review.
——————
Update 1: I finished this book earlier today and I’m still at a loss at how to review it. One thing for sure is that this book needs some serious content/trigger warnings. If you’re looking for a happy ending, or really a happy anything, you will not find it in this book. This is probably one of the most depressing books I’ve read in a very long time and I’m really not sure of the story’s purpose. What is/was the author trying to say? Whatever it is I’m pretty sure I didn’t get it; I kind of feel like I was partially through finishing a puzzle only to find the rest of the pieces are missing and nowhere to be found. It probably didn’t help that I was full of anxiety when I woke up today and that feeling only increased as the day progressed, particularly when I read/finished this book.
Full RTC. This definitely requires some stewing over to get my thoughts in order!
I was immediately attracted to this book because of it's stunning cover and after reading the synopsis, I was intrigued enough to request the title to read. What I got was vastly different to anything to what I anticipated and after finishing this book one day ago, I'm still at quite a loss as to how to review it. If there's one thing that's for sure is that this book really needs to have content warnings for readers at the start because this covers some very dark and emotionally wrought topics that readers may find distasteful (abuse--physical, emotional, mental, sexual assault, incest, violence, homophobia/transphobia).
If you're looking for a happy book or a book where lessons are learned after trying times, this is not it. There was no happiness or resolution for any character in this book and it was to be honest, fairly depressing. What really has me scratching my head about this book is its purpose -- what was the author trying to say? What was the author trying to communicate?
The story was separated into four parts. First we're introduced to Kimitake Koba, or Clyde or as he believes he is Marilyn Monroe. He's a young American-Japanese boy who lives with a submissive mother who doesn't speak English and an alcoholic and physically abusive father. Soon after we're introduced to Raphael Dweck, or Ralph. He's smart, a talented artist and is also deeply religious, but ever since moving to America, he has been troubled and develops kleptomaniac tendencies, which leads him to a great deal of trouble. Much of the story focuses on his time in Israel, when he is sent back after undergoing therapy for his kleptomania. The story then comes back to America when Clyde and Ralph officially meet, and the consequences of the actions during their time together.
I have to say that there's something about Ortega-Medina's prose that, while fairly straightforward, is quite beautiful. The descriptive writing was not only what kept my attention hooked but it is also what made it so difficult to put it down for sleep and work. I enjoyed the exploration of religion, as well as the rich Jewish culture that the author explored and Jewish traditions that I never knew before. It's not often that I've read a book with a young adult where religion played such a big and defining role in their life, so that to me was also a refreshing take. That said there was more about this book that troubled me.
Both characters and their life stories are incredibly complex. Their youth is filled with harrowing experiences that involve much physical, mental and emotional abuse, which made this a very dark read. One topic that kept coming back in both their lives was incest; both boys developed semi-sexual relationships with their cousins and I did not understand why those relationships were necessary to the story. I understand their need to feel love and acceptance and getting those from their cousins, but there was no need for the relationship to turn sexual--not to mention the fact that it became sexual almost instantaneously.
I didn't particularly like both Clyde or Ralph, but despite Ralph being an incredibly self-serving asshole, he was actually the one that I felt the most sympathy for. His struggle to understand who he is and what his true purpose was against the expectations of his family and religion was very real. That's not to say that I really liked his character or the things that he did because he treated everyone in his life like they were disposable and was nothing but selfish, especially in moments when he could've been doing good. On the other hand, Clyde was portrayed as manic and it seemed to stem from his belief that he was Marilyn Monroe, and this is where I found how the author depicted Clyde as distasteful.
From the very beginning, you can sense that Clyde does not identify as a 'he' but because he believed he was Marilyn Monroe's spirit, that he was a 'she'. Yet throughout the latter half of the story, the author continues to identify Clyde as 'he', even when Clyde has fully embraced being Marilyn Monroe. This is also the point where the story really devolves for me because it seemed that the author was likening being transgender as being someone with a mental illness and that didn't sit right with me. As Clyde became more desperate to physically become a woman, the story not only became frenzied, but Clyde's character unravelled, leading to the tossing aside of their transgender identity for one of a mentally ill young man that took his obsession with a dead celebrity too far.
Another theme that is often repeated is how everything comes back around and although I can see how the author was trying to do that with the ending of the story, I felt that it was not only very rushed, but too outlandish and completely unbelievable. Which brings me back to the question I asked at the start: what was the author trying to say? Because I'm really not sure I understand what the purpose of all the character's suffering was. It also makes me wonder how 'The Death of Baseball' is a fitting title when it only played a very minor role at the start and end of the story. Overall, while the author was able to elicit a wide range of overwhelming emotions from me while reading this, I'm not really sure that I would recommend it to anyone for the reasons stated above.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publishers for the e-ARC in exchange for an honest review.
——————
Update 1: I finished this book earlier today and I’m still at a loss at how to review it. One thing for sure is that this book needs some serious content/trigger warnings. If you’re looking for a happy ending, or really a happy anything, you will not find it in this book. This is probably one of the most depressing books I’ve read in a very long time and I’m really not sure of the story’s purpose. What is/was the author trying to say? Whatever it is I’m pretty sure I didn’t get it; I kind of feel like I was partially through finishing a puzzle only to find the rest of the pieces are missing and nowhere to be found. It probably didn’t help that I was full of anxiety when I woke up today and that feeling only increased as the day progressed, particularly when I read/finished this book.
Full RTC. This definitely requires some stewing over to get my thoughts in order!
June 15, 2019
A challenging and thought provoking novel set in ISRAEL and LOS ANGELES
The Death of Baseball is a story of two very disturbed young persons. Kimitake ‘Clyde’ Koba is the son of an American mother and a violent alcoholic Japanese father. They live in Los Angeles. Clyde is the name given to him by his father so that he blends better with his surroundings. Clyde was born at the exact time that Marilyn Monroe died, becomes fascinated by her, and believes he is her reincarnation. He has a troubled childhood, culminating in being sent for court-mandated psychiatric treatment for hitting a classmate around the head with a heavy stone. The classmate was trying to get him to fellate him. It is 1973.
Raphael Dweck is also from Los Angeles (although born in Israel). We first encounter him as he leaves the psychiatrist’s office after his last appointment just as Clyde arrives for his first. Raphael is a strange mixture – very orthodox religious Jew, but with kleptomaniac tendencies and a very strong sex drive. He was sent to the psychiatrist by the courts for stealing. His parents – and his rabbi – think he should move to Israel for a while to live with with an aunt (with whom he does not get on) and his three cousins. This, they believe, will straighten him out. It is a non religious life in a pretty desolate mining area. Not really the conventional view of Israel. Raphael is back in Jerusalem visiting his grandmother when two incidents occur – his aunt and one of his cousins are killed in a fire in their house, and another of his cousins is called up and sent unprepared into battle against Egypt in the Sinai. He blames himself (unfairly as it turns out) for both. He had tossed a lighted cigarette across his room as he had left (which he thought had caused the fire), and he had stripped the bullets out of the magazine of the gun his cousin carried. But neither actually impacted the situation.
We then fast forward to 1982. Ralph (as Raphael now calls himself) has returned to Los Angeles and is working as an embryonic film maker, and in the ticket office of a run down cinema. Clyde cross dresses and is Marilyn Monroe. They meet and hatch a plan to make a movie featuring reincarnation (Ralph says he feels he could be James Dean brought back to life). Their relationship is sexual, deviant, and a great deal more besides. Clyde wants to finance a sex change operation, and they decide to rob a bank. Marilyn and Jimmy (not quite Bonnie and Clyde) dress in character masks – but it then all goes wrong. Again (but not quite as in Bonnie and Clyde) this is a story without a happy ending.
The Death of Baseball is an intense and thought-provoking work. Bits are really very funny, but it should not be read for laughs. The lasting impression is one of decadence and family breakdown. It is not an uplifting book. It is, though, very much recommended.
And just one final one. The cover is brilliant – it wins our cover of the year award for 2019 (to date)!
The Death of Baseball is a story of two very disturbed young persons. Kimitake ‘Clyde’ Koba is the son of an American mother and a violent alcoholic Japanese father. They live in Los Angeles. Clyde is the name given to him by his father so that he blends better with his surroundings. Clyde was born at the exact time that Marilyn Monroe died, becomes fascinated by her, and believes he is her reincarnation. He has a troubled childhood, culminating in being sent for court-mandated psychiatric treatment for hitting a classmate around the head with a heavy stone. The classmate was trying to get him to fellate him. It is 1973.
Raphael Dweck is also from Los Angeles (although born in Israel). We first encounter him as he leaves the psychiatrist’s office after his last appointment just as Clyde arrives for his first. Raphael is a strange mixture – very orthodox religious Jew, but with kleptomaniac tendencies and a very strong sex drive. He was sent to the psychiatrist by the courts for stealing. His parents – and his rabbi – think he should move to Israel for a while to live with with an aunt (with whom he does not get on) and his three cousins. This, they believe, will straighten him out. It is a non religious life in a pretty desolate mining area. Not really the conventional view of Israel. Raphael is back in Jerusalem visiting his grandmother when two incidents occur – his aunt and one of his cousins are killed in a fire in their house, and another of his cousins is called up and sent unprepared into battle against Egypt in the Sinai. He blames himself (unfairly as it turns out) for both. He had tossed a lighted cigarette across his room as he had left (which he thought had caused the fire), and he had stripped the bullets out of the magazine of the gun his cousin carried. But neither actually impacted the situation.
We then fast forward to 1982. Ralph (as Raphael now calls himself) has returned to Los Angeles and is working as an embryonic film maker, and in the ticket office of a run down cinema. Clyde cross dresses and is Marilyn Monroe. They meet and hatch a plan to make a movie featuring reincarnation (Ralph says he feels he could be James Dean brought back to life). Their relationship is sexual, deviant, and a great deal more besides. Clyde wants to finance a sex change operation, and they decide to rob a bank. Marilyn and Jimmy (not quite Bonnie and Clyde) dress in character masks – but it then all goes wrong. Again (but not quite as in Bonnie and Clyde) this is a story without a happy ending.
The Death of Baseball is an intense and thought-provoking work. Bits are really very funny, but it should not be read for laughs. The lasting impression is one of decadence and family breakdown. It is not an uplifting book. It is, though, very much recommended.
And just one final one. The cover is brilliant – it wins our cover of the year award for 2019 (to date)!
May 14, 2019
I got a copy of this from NetGalley for my own reading pleasure, and I was honestly looking forward to reading it. I’m going to start with all of the things I loved about this book. The prose is beautifully wrought. It’s easy to immerse yourself into this world, and into the characters. I’ve never been a young Japanese-American boy, interested in Marilyn Monroe, or believed myself to be the reincarnation of anyone famous. I had no problem seeing and feeling everything Clyde/Marilyn saw and felt.
I could have gone the rest of my life without seeing and feeling everything Clyde/Marilyn saw and felt, but that’s an issue for further down in this review. Not all stories are sunshine and rainbows, and that’s okay.
I loved Clyde/Marilyn, and I wanted the best for them. I hated on their behalf. Ortega-Medina does a fantastic job of showing how Clyde/Marilyn grows from a child into an adult, and how they are failed by pretty much everyone in their life.
As a more neutral part of this review, this story is not uplifting in any way. I just want to get that out there. Don’t read this book if you’re looking for a happy ending, for anyone. No one gets one. Even with all of my issues with this book, I sobbed at the end, because I wanted better for Clyde/Marilyn and they never had a chance. Not one.
Also, what is it with literary fiction and incest? Not all lit fic involves incest, but an awful lot of it seems to, and the lighter the skin tone of the person writing it the more likely that particular taboo is to be broken. (There is a less socially acceptable way of putting it, but I’m trying to cuss less.) It’s like several generations of authors sat through Freshman English, read Faulkner, and said, “Okay, I can’t publish without this stuff, so… here we go!”
Rant over.
Ahem.
Both Clyde/Marilyn and Raphael start out in bad situations with frankly terrible families. Their families fail them at every turn, to be honest, and arguably Raphael never really had a chance any more than Clyde/Marilyn did. Raphael did a bad thing, but he did his best to make up for it. His parents, led by their rabbi, decide to not only kick him out of the country but exile him to a perpetual semi-war zone and force him to live with a part of the family that actively uses him as a scapegoat.
Awesome.
Now, this is an ongoing theme in the book. Family members failing the protagonists, abuse, scapegoating people for things that were never their fault. It’s awful, it’s overwhelming.
In Rafael’s case, it’s boring.
It’s boring, and it’s irritating. Rafael is self-righteous about it, and he’s an absolute turd of a man. He has no redeeming qualities whatsoever. Neither does his family, don’t get me wrong, and I’m not sure where he was supposed to learn not to be a jackass. After all, his mother openly blames him for her illness and tells him she will not give him affection.
Real prize, right?
But he’s a jerk to everyone he meets. He pretends to be a nice guy to Clyde/Marilyn, convinces them he’s an ally and they’re safe, and then checks out when things get bad. He starts out bad, he ends bad, and he never gets better.
A large section of the book takes place in Israel, around the time of the Yom Kippur War. I can’t be objective about this. For one thing, Rafael’s family reminds me of a specific family of my acquaintance (who are objectively terrible people regardless of ethnicity or where they live.) I also found myself bristling – a lot – at the absolute lack of mention of the people who were there before the colonists. It’s not like the book was set a hundred years after their forced removal. It wasn’t even thirty. There was a war going on, right then. Come on.
So there was this huge section of the book, focused on a character with no redeeming qualities whatsoever, surrounded by people who a) likewise had no redeeming qualities at all and b) reminded me of people I actually know and wish I didn’t. I made a good faith effort to try to read that section, in the hopes that Rafael had a point to his character other than reminding me that humanity is trash, but I finally gave up and skimmed it.
My biggest issue with the book, though, was the treatment of Clyde/Marilyn and their family. People who are trans, and people who are Japanese-American, are better placed to criticize this part than I am. That said, I did read it, I saw something, now I have to say something.
I’m not sure Clyde/Marilyn is trans. It’s not specifically stated. They do rob a bank seeking a sex change operation, but it’s not clear that they’re trans. They want the operation not because they’re dealing with gender dysphoria (was that a diagnosis in 1982? I was 7, so I wouldn’t have been aware of it if it was.) They want the operation because they believe they’re the reincarnation of Marilyn Monroe. It’s a different thing altogether. And there are times when it seems vaguely fetishized.
And in the end of the book, that identity seems to be struck off altogether. Is Clyde/Marilyn no longer trans, if they ever were to begin with? Have they subsumed that part of their identity for safety in their new future? Does trans identity work that way?
For most of the book, Clyde/Marilyn is more or less unable to defend themselves. There’s one incident that seems essentially instinctive – anyone could do it and it doesn’t stand out. In the end of the book, Clyde/Marilyn suddenly starts using their Japanese name and is an absolute badass. What they do isn’t described using martial arts terminology, but it’s a little too… unsubtle, I guess. The change is improbable, unless somehow Clyde/Marilyn has been hiding their certified Asian Person Martial Arts Prowess all along and it’s just never been mentioned on the page because we had to talk about their chiffon blouse 87 times.
This book had a lot of potential. I didn’t even mind that it was chock full o’ despair. (I mean I minded, but sad stories need to be told too.) What bothered me was the absolute repellent nature of one of the two main characters and the subtle racism. I wasn’t sure what the purpose of the book was, I’m still not, and I feel like Clyde/Marilyn deserved better.
I could have gone the rest of my life without seeing and feeling everything Clyde/Marilyn saw and felt, but that’s an issue for further down in this review. Not all stories are sunshine and rainbows, and that’s okay.
I loved Clyde/Marilyn, and I wanted the best for them. I hated on their behalf. Ortega-Medina does a fantastic job of showing how Clyde/Marilyn grows from a child into an adult, and how they are failed by pretty much everyone in their life.
As a more neutral part of this review, this story is not uplifting in any way. I just want to get that out there. Don’t read this book if you’re looking for a happy ending, for anyone. No one gets one. Even with all of my issues with this book, I sobbed at the end, because I wanted better for Clyde/Marilyn and they never had a chance. Not one.
Also, what is it with literary fiction and incest? Not all lit fic involves incest, but an awful lot of it seems to, and the lighter the skin tone of the person writing it the more likely that particular taboo is to be broken. (There is a less socially acceptable way of putting it, but I’m trying to cuss less.) It’s like several generations of authors sat through Freshman English, read Faulkner, and said, “Okay, I can’t publish without this stuff, so… here we go!”
Rant over.
Ahem.
Both Clyde/Marilyn and Raphael start out in bad situations with frankly terrible families. Their families fail them at every turn, to be honest, and arguably Raphael never really had a chance any more than Clyde/Marilyn did. Raphael did a bad thing, but he did his best to make up for it. His parents, led by their rabbi, decide to not only kick him out of the country but exile him to a perpetual semi-war zone and force him to live with a part of the family that actively uses him as a scapegoat.
Awesome.
Now, this is an ongoing theme in the book. Family members failing the protagonists, abuse, scapegoating people for things that were never their fault. It’s awful, it’s overwhelming.
In Rafael’s case, it’s boring.
It’s boring, and it’s irritating. Rafael is self-righteous about it, and he’s an absolute turd of a man. He has no redeeming qualities whatsoever. Neither does his family, don’t get me wrong, and I’m not sure where he was supposed to learn not to be a jackass. After all, his mother openly blames him for her illness and tells him she will not give him affection.
Real prize, right?
But he’s a jerk to everyone he meets. He pretends to be a nice guy to Clyde/Marilyn, convinces them he’s an ally and they’re safe, and then checks out when things get bad. He starts out bad, he ends bad, and he never gets better.
A large section of the book takes place in Israel, around the time of the Yom Kippur War. I can’t be objective about this. For one thing, Rafael’s family reminds me of a specific family of my acquaintance (who are objectively terrible people regardless of ethnicity or where they live.) I also found myself bristling – a lot – at the absolute lack of mention of the people who were there before the colonists. It’s not like the book was set a hundred years after their forced removal. It wasn’t even thirty. There was a war going on, right then. Come on.
So there was this huge section of the book, focused on a character with no redeeming qualities whatsoever, surrounded by people who a) likewise had no redeeming qualities at all and b) reminded me of people I actually know and wish I didn’t. I made a good faith effort to try to read that section, in the hopes that Rafael had a point to his character other than reminding me that humanity is trash, but I finally gave up and skimmed it.
My biggest issue with the book, though, was the treatment of Clyde/Marilyn and their family. People who are trans, and people who are Japanese-American, are better placed to criticize this part than I am. That said, I did read it, I saw something, now I have to say something.
I’m not sure Clyde/Marilyn is trans. It’s not specifically stated. They do rob a bank seeking a sex change operation, but it’s not clear that they’re trans. They want the operation not because they’re dealing with gender dysphoria (was that a diagnosis in 1982? I was 7, so I wouldn’t have been aware of it if it was.) They want the operation because they believe they’re the reincarnation of Marilyn Monroe. It’s a different thing altogether. And there are times when it seems vaguely fetishized.
And in the end of the book, that identity seems to be struck off altogether. Is Clyde/Marilyn no longer trans, if they ever were to begin with? Have they subsumed that part of their identity for safety in their new future? Does trans identity work that way?
For most of the book, Clyde/Marilyn is more or less unable to defend themselves. There’s one incident that seems essentially instinctive – anyone could do it and it doesn’t stand out. In the end of the book, Clyde/Marilyn suddenly starts using their Japanese name and is an absolute badass. What they do isn’t described using martial arts terminology, but it’s a little too… unsubtle, I guess. The change is improbable, unless somehow Clyde/Marilyn has been hiding their certified Asian Person Martial Arts Prowess all along and it’s just never been mentioned on the page because we had to talk about their chiffon blouse 87 times.
This book had a lot of potential. I didn’t even mind that it was chock full o’ despair. (I mean I minded, but sad stories need to be told too.) What bothered me was the absolute repellent nature of one of the two main characters and the subtle racism. I wasn’t sure what the purpose of the book was, I’m still not, and I feel like Clyde/Marilyn deserved better.
June 21, 2019
I first encountered the work of Orlando Ortega-Medina through his brilliant, emotionally charged and meditative short story collection Jerusalem Ablaze etched into my memory as one of the trickiest reviews I have ever had to write. Now having read Ortega-Medina’s full length novel, The Death of Baseball I feel that my reviewing skills will be put to the test once again, as I try and communicate to you all how necessary, heartfelt, thought-provoking and sublimely perfect this book is. Oh yes. I did say perfect…
When I began reading this book, I somewhat intuitively avoided reading the full synopsis, as I had a vibe from the outset, that I very much just wanted to be taken wherever this book wished to take me. Aside from the sway of the beautifully retro cover, I felt from a very early stage of reading that this was a book that would consume me completely, and consequently this was one of the rare occasions where this was the only book I was reading at the time. I think this was also influenced by the fact that Ortega-Medina’s two main protagonists, Raphael, and Marilyn are so singularly deserving of the reader’s full attention, as the drama, tragedy, and human frailty plays out against a backdrop of changing decades and social mores, America and Israel, conflict and peace, and the underlying need of both to form a lasting emotional connection. I am only going to give you a silhouette of the characters and the plot, as I think this is a book that needs to be discovered in an almost neutral vacuum, to fully appreciate its emotional depth, and to open yourself up to some extremely accomplished and sublime storytelling.
To say that these characters’ lives are troubled and tempestuous would be an understatement, and as the author highlights the crisis of conscience, faith and loyalty, he weighs them down with, I can guarantee you will be held completely in their thrall. I can honestly say that I did have a sustained emotional response to this book, which is incredibly unusual, as books rarely achieve this for me. I think the emotional heft, moments of extreme poignancy, frustration and anger that we bear witness to in the lives of these characters, is so beautifully realised and communicated that you do become completely immersed in the powerful positivity and destructing negativity, that Raphael and Marilyn seem to take it in turns to display. These conflicting traits lead on occasion to impetuous, ill-judged acts, tempered by moments of extreme tenderness and self realisation as they battle with issues of faith, identity and the instances of wretched tragedy that blight their lives. However, despite the incredibly visceral humanity of this book, I did feel that a certain sense of equanimity was achieved in the life of one character, and that their struggle for acceptance and recognition did come to fruition, which lifted the book to a more life affirming plain.
Tied up with the superlative characterisation of Raphael, Marilyn and the social, religious and familial crisis they suffer, I would also draw attention to two other strengths of the narrative of this book. One is location and period detail, firmly rooting us in the changing decades from the 60s through the 80s, and the way that Ortega-Medina subtly places us in the grip of each decade, using the recognisable markers of each decade, and certain tumultuous events both in America and Israel. The section of the book set in Israel was particularly compulsive reading, as Ortega-Medina places Raphael in a largely unfamiliar setting, under pressure with the weight of certain aspects of his family history, clinging to his faith, pushing the boundaries of his sexuality, and tentatively feeling his way to love. The threat of war with Egypt plays out in the background, and this sojourn in Israel also provides an incredibly interesting reappraisal and exploration of Raphael’s faith, and the seismic effect on his own character that events in Israel cause.
When I’ve been talking about this book to friends and colleagues, another aspect I keep drawing attention to is the sheer cleverness of the structure. Every chapter, and yes, it is every chapter, can be read in isolation to the others as a completely self contained short story, whilst not disrupting the momentum and continuity of the story in any way. Once I stumbled upon this notion and blown away by the skill of this, I actually went back through the book at random picking certain chapters to re-read, particularly those in Israel, and those set in a certain location towards to the end of the book. When I reviewed Jerusalem Ablaze, I drew attention to the fact that this author so quickly enables the reader to connect on an emotional level with his characters, and this sustained use of structuring his chapters like this, adds even more to the intensity with which he enveigles us in his character’s lives. The Death of Baseball is a glorious miasma of contradictions and conflicts, the need to love, the need for acceptance and recognition, fame, faith, abuse, identity and hope. I found it thought provoking and powerfully emotional, and I loved the way it immersed me so fully in these two lives with their unique voices. This book has such a strong message at its core, clearly illustrating how we are all the same in our desire to achieve contentment and an equilibrium in our lives, however we choose to live and with whomever we choose to love. Highly, highly recommended.
When I began reading this book, I somewhat intuitively avoided reading the full synopsis, as I had a vibe from the outset, that I very much just wanted to be taken wherever this book wished to take me. Aside from the sway of the beautifully retro cover, I felt from a very early stage of reading that this was a book that would consume me completely, and consequently this was one of the rare occasions where this was the only book I was reading at the time. I think this was also influenced by the fact that Ortega-Medina’s two main protagonists, Raphael, and Marilyn are so singularly deserving of the reader’s full attention, as the drama, tragedy, and human frailty plays out against a backdrop of changing decades and social mores, America and Israel, conflict and peace, and the underlying need of both to form a lasting emotional connection. I am only going to give you a silhouette of the characters and the plot, as I think this is a book that needs to be discovered in an almost neutral vacuum, to fully appreciate its emotional depth, and to open yourself up to some extremely accomplished and sublime storytelling.
To say that these characters’ lives are troubled and tempestuous would be an understatement, and as the author highlights the crisis of conscience, faith and loyalty, he weighs them down with, I can guarantee you will be held completely in their thrall. I can honestly say that I did have a sustained emotional response to this book, which is incredibly unusual, as books rarely achieve this for me. I think the emotional heft, moments of extreme poignancy, frustration and anger that we bear witness to in the lives of these characters, is so beautifully realised and communicated that you do become completely immersed in the powerful positivity and destructing negativity, that Raphael and Marilyn seem to take it in turns to display. These conflicting traits lead on occasion to impetuous, ill-judged acts, tempered by moments of extreme tenderness and self realisation as they battle with issues of faith, identity and the instances of wretched tragedy that blight their lives. However, despite the incredibly visceral humanity of this book, I did feel that a certain sense of equanimity was achieved in the life of one character, and that their struggle for acceptance and recognition did come to fruition, which lifted the book to a more life affirming plain.
Tied up with the superlative characterisation of Raphael, Marilyn and the social, religious and familial crisis they suffer, I would also draw attention to two other strengths of the narrative of this book. One is location and period detail, firmly rooting us in the changing decades from the 60s through the 80s, and the way that Ortega-Medina subtly places us in the grip of each decade, using the recognisable markers of each decade, and certain tumultuous events both in America and Israel. The section of the book set in Israel was particularly compulsive reading, as Ortega-Medina places Raphael in a largely unfamiliar setting, under pressure with the weight of certain aspects of his family history, clinging to his faith, pushing the boundaries of his sexuality, and tentatively feeling his way to love. The threat of war with Egypt plays out in the background, and this sojourn in Israel also provides an incredibly interesting reappraisal and exploration of Raphael’s faith, and the seismic effect on his own character that events in Israel cause.
When I’ve been talking about this book to friends and colleagues, another aspect I keep drawing attention to is the sheer cleverness of the structure. Every chapter, and yes, it is every chapter, can be read in isolation to the others as a completely self contained short story, whilst not disrupting the momentum and continuity of the story in any way. Once I stumbled upon this notion and blown away by the skill of this, I actually went back through the book at random picking certain chapters to re-read, particularly those in Israel, and those set in a certain location towards to the end of the book. When I reviewed Jerusalem Ablaze, I drew attention to the fact that this author so quickly enables the reader to connect on an emotional level with his characters, and this sustained use of structuring his chapters like this, adds even more to the intensity with which he enveigles us in his character’s lives. The Death of Baseball is a glorious miasma of contradictions and conflicts, the need to love, the need for acceptance and recognition, fame, faith, abuse, identity and hope. I found it thought provoking and powerfully emotional, and I loved the way it immersed me so fully in these two lives with their unique voices. This book has such a strong message at its core, clearly illustrating how we are all the same in our desire to achieve contentment and an equilibrium in our lives, however we choose to live and with whomever we choose to love. Highly, highly recommended.
December 23, 2019
On the outset The Death of Baseball seems to be a weirdfest, It’s not every day a reader gets a monologue from Marilyn Monroe claiming that when she died she was reborn into the body of a boy but as one proceeds more themes start to emerge from the book.
The main one is identity; the two main characters in The Death of Baseball Clyde and Raphael both struggle to maintain an identity. In Clyde’s case, he thinks he’s the reincarnation of Marilyn Monroe. He is also Asian growing up in a rough household. Raphael is a Jewish immigrant who copes with being both an American and a Jew by theft and using people. Both suffer severe consequences for their actions, leaving a trail of destruction behind them.. Also both boys are gay and struggling to accept it.
Eventually these two misfits meet and once again their identity problems are both unites and disunites them. Clyde wants revenge on is father for treating him badly, while Raphael in his typical user fashion is fascinated by Clyde’s obsession with Marilyn Monroe and wants him for a documentary that he’s going to film (unbeknownst to Clyde). It can only lead to disaster.
Other themes that are present are gender fluidity, culture , religion and cinema, or at least the illusion that cinema provides . Both characters are fascinated by movies and sometimes incorporate famous movie plots and iconic fashions in their way of thinking. Clyde has got Marilyn Monroe and Raphael dresses like Alex from Kubrick’s adaptation of A Clockwork Orange. Other movies make their appearance but it’s more fun for the reader to discover these.
At times the book is controversial, sometimes even eyebrow raising but most of the time it works. There were a couple of descriptions of women in the Raphael narratives in the beginning which I did not like- I think the expression ‘creamy breasts’ should have never been used.
On the whole The Death of Baseball is a page turner and will keep the reader gripped. I also did like the fact that one learns about Jewish culture extensively so I gained quite a bit in the process. This is a novel that will surprise the reader in many ways and give food for thought as well.
Many thanks to Cloud Lodge for providing a requested copy of The Death of Baseball in exchange for an honest review.
The main one is identity; the two main characters in The Death of Baseball Clyde and Raphael both struggle to maintain an identity. In Clyde’s case, he thinks he’s the reincarnation of Marilyn Monroe. He is also Asian growing up in a rough household. Raphael is a Jewish immigrant who copes with being both an American and a Jew by theft and using people. Both suffer severe consequences for their actions, leaving a trail of destruction behind them.. Also both boys are gay and struggling to accept it.
Eventually these two misfits meet and once again their identity problems are both unites and disunites them. Clyde wants revenge on is father for treating him badly, while Raphael in his typical user fashion is fascinated by Clyde’s obsession with Marilyn Monroe and wants him for a documentary that he’s going to film (unbeknownst to Clyde). It can only lead to disaster.
Other themes that are present are gender fluidity, culture , religion and cinema, or at least the illusion that cinema provides . Both characters are fascinated by movies and sometimes incorporate famous movie plots and iconic fashions in their way of thinking. Clyde has got Marilyn Monroe and Raphael dresses like Alex from Kubrick’s adaptation of A Clockwork Orange. Other movies make their appearance but it’s more fun for the reader to discover these.
At times the book is controversial, sometimes even eyebrow raising but most of the time it works. There were a couple of descriptions of women in the Raphael narratives in the beginning which I did not like- I think the expression ‘creamy breasts’ should have never been used.
On the whole The Death of Baseball is a page turner and will keep the reader gripped. I also did like the fact that one learns about Jewish culture extensively so I gained quite a bit in the process. This is a novel that will surprise the reader in many ways and give food for thought as well.
Many thanks to Cloud Lodge for providing a requested copy of The Death of Baseball in exchange for an honest review.
August 28, 2019
When I was in high school, I accidentally took AP Literature (or the Israeli version of that) and was subjected to 10 months of reading and talking about coming of age novels. This is a long story in of itself but I will say this. If this book was in Hebrew, I would not hesitate to recommend it to my high school Literature teacher.
And I can see how much he'd love it, how he'd assign a comparison of Ralph and Clyde/Marilyn, how he'd talk about the symbolism of the sex change (vs what happened with Clyde/ Marilyn and the attackers) and the blowjobs and how he'd marvel about sexuality being shameful and society excluding people, therapists as sexual predators, names packing so much power (because Clyde/ Marilyn/ Kimitake is the same person but such different faucets and Ralph vs Raphael), Judaism as a method of masochism.
And really, this book is fantastic. It's a specific style, it's like you'd take Perks of Being a Wallflower and mush it together with Sociopaths In Love. I truly feel like it was well-executed. I feel this book has potential to become really popular.
So this book has roughly three parts. In the first, we meet Clyde/Marilyn, a Japanese-American teen that has a really shitty life (to say the least). We follow along as he begins to believe he is Marilyn Monroe reincarnated. In the second part (my favorite), we meet Ralph, an arrogant kleptomaniac Jewish teen whose parents send to Israel in an attempt to "fix" his behavior. We essentially observe his life going downhill. And then, the third part focuses on them meeting as adults.
This book has some clear strengths, the writing being the first. It is phenomenal. It sucked me in from the get-go, I thought I'd read this on my flight and instead, I finished it all today because I couldn't stop reading it, especially the second part. I am still so into it and really impressed by how good it was.
The characterization is great as well.. I can picture all of the characters so well, I feel like I know exactly who they are and what makes them tick. It's really impressively done. I honestly am so impressed by how whole of a picture we get about these two people.
The plot is a little odd but works. There are a few huge reveals here but somehow, they don't reach the impact I'd assume they should. This isn't any real problem because those reveals weren't that important. I mean, as a reader, I was way more invested in the characters than the plot.
The LGBT+ community makes an appearance in this book but I don't know if I can say that it's a positive one. Every time a man has a relationship with another man, it's incest and that's really problematic. However, in defense of this book, the relationships of straight couples here are not much better, be it Clyde/ Marilyn's parents or the whole Joanie Ralph thing. And yeah, not all gay couples are incestuous just as not all parents are failures (which this book also essentially claims). It's annoying that all of the men here don't embrace their sexuality but I guess that's to be expected in the 70s.
However, queerness in this book is far more interesting. The author makes a choice to refer to Clyde/ Marilyn as Clyde and to use he/him pronouns, even when the character expresses numerous times that that's not right. This is a decision that brings to light a lot of questions, it makes me feel like Clyde/Marilyn was just mentally unstable Clyde. As someone who's very invested in queer communities, I really live by the idea that we must respect however a person wishes to be referred to and so it was weird to see the author never ever refer to their own character's the way they'd like.
That said, I don't want to compare Clyde/ Marilyn to the trans community because the character in this book seems to want to transition as a way to escape their identity, to not be a Japanese man. Trans folks are genuinely being themselves and yeah, trans people don't assume they're a historical figure. So I appreciate that the author didn't draw the parallel that they could have but still, it's there, it's there when they attempt to rob a bank for a sex change (is this a reference to John Wojtowicz because yes). So anyways, no, Clyde/ Marilyn is not trans, they're mentally unstable and must not be seen as an example of a trans person.
In any case, this book shows such a messed up world. I finished it yesterday and I'm still constantly thinking about it, thinking about how young Ralph was when he met Joanie and how Yom Kippur's war messed everyone up, how powerful Ralph is, how Jewishly solid this book is (Ahh, there's a part where Ralph talks about coming back and man, that's such a strong Jewish concept, I love that). I really recommend this book!
What I'm Taking With Me
- Two strong characters is more than enough to make a book compelling.
- Raphael is such a great character, he deserved a better life.
- Bad stuff always happens in Mitzpeh Ramon, that is known.
And I can see how much he'd love it, how he'd assign a comparison of Ralph and Clyde/Marilyn, how he'd talk about the symbolism of the sex change (vs what happened with Clyde/ Marilyn and the attackers) and the blowjobs and how he'd marvel about sexuality being shameful and society excluding people, therapists as sexual predators, names packing so much power (because Clyde/ Marilyn/ Kimitake is the same person but such different faucets and Ralph vs Raphael), Judaism as a method of masochism.
And really, this book is fantastic. It's a specific style, it's like you'd take Perks of Being a Wallflower and mush it together with Sociopaths In Love. I truly feel like it was well-executed. I feel this book has potential to become really popular.
So this book has roughly three parts. In the first, we meet Clyde/Marilyn, a Japanese-American teen that has a really shitty life (to say the least). We follow along as he begins to believe he is Marilyn Monroe reincarnated. In the second part (my favorite), we meet Ralph, an arrogant kleptomaniac Jewish teen whose parents send to Israel in an attempt to "fix" his behavior. We essentially observe his life going downhill. And then, the third part focuses on them meeting as adults.
This book has some clear strengths, the writing being the first. It is phenomenal. It sucked me in from the get-go, I thought I'd read this on my flight and instead, I finished it all today because I couldn't stop reading it, especially the second part. I am still so into it and really impressed by how good it was.
The characterization is great as well.. I can picture all of the characters so well, I feel like I know exactly who they are and what makes them tick. It's really impressively done. I honestly am so impressed by how whole of a picture we get about these two people.
The plot is a little odd but works. There are a few huge reveals here but somehow, they don't reach the impact I'd assume they should. This isn't any real problem because those reveals weren't that important. I mean, as a reader, I was way more invested in the characters than the plot.
The LGBT+ community makes an appearance in this book but I don't know if I can say that it's a positive one. Every time a man has a relationship with another man, it's incest and that's really problematic. However, in defense of this book, the relationships of straight couples here are not much better, be it Clyde/ Marilyn's parents or the whole Joanie Ralph thing. And yeah, not all gay couples are incestuous just as not all parents are failures (which this book also essentially claims). It's annoying that all of the men here don't embrace their sexuality but I guess that's to be expected in the 70s.
However, queerness in this book is far more interesting. The author makes a choice to refer to Clyde/ Marilyn as Clyde and to use he/him pronouns, even when the character expresses numerous times that that's not right. This is a decision that brings to light a lot of questions, it makes me feel like Clyde/Marilyn was just mentally unstable Clyde. As someone who's very invested in queer communities, I really live by the idea that we must respect however a person wishes to be referred to and so it was weird to see the author never ever refer to their own character's the way they'd like.
That said, I don't want to compare Clyde/ Marilyn to the trans community because the character in this book seems to want to transition as a way to escape their identity, to not be a Japanese man. Trans folks are genuinely being themselves and yeah, trans people don't assume they're a historical figure. So I appreciate that the author didn't draw the parallel that they could have but still, it's there, it's there when they attempt to rob a bank for a sex change (is this a reference to John Wojtowicz because yes). So anyways, no, Clyde/ Marilyn is not trans, they're mentally unstable and must not be seen as an example of a trans person.
In any case, this book shows such a messed up world. I finished it yesterday and I'm still constantly thinking about it, thinking about how young Ralph was when he met Joanie and how Yom Kippur's war messed everyone up, how powerful Ralph is, how Jewishly solid this book is (Ahh, there's a part where Ralph talks about coming back and man, that's such a strong Jewish concept, I love that). I really recommend this book!
What I'm Taking With Me
- Two strong characters is more than enough to make a book compelling.
- Raphael is such a great character, he deserved a better life.
- Bad stuff always happens in Mitzpeh Ramon, that is known.
February 28, 2020
Thanks NetGalley for the ARC!
This is a story of two young men who's lives are forced together by destiny in the end. It is separated into three sections. First, meet eleven-year-old Japanese-American Kimitake "Clyde" Koba who wholeheartedly believes that he is Marilyn Monroe reincarnated. He begins to take on the way she talks, walks, and interacts with other people for a book report for school and falls even more in love with her. He is severely abused at home by his alcoholic father and his mother fails to help him as she is very passive.
The second section is all about Raphael Dwek. He is a devout Jewish teenager who has a major problem with kleptomania. He seems to be the perfect all-American boy as he gets straight A's in school, an athlete, and an amazing artist. After his sudden ending of therapy, his parents decide, without consulting Ralph, that he needs to be sent to Israel to live his aunt (that hates him). Nothing but troubles follows this young man and he can't seem to shake it off.
A decade later Ralph and Marilyn meet each other in the third section. More trouble ensues when they decide to create a film about people who believe they are reincarnated. This road takes them further than they truly expected and there is no turning back.
Review:
First things first, some major trigger warnings need to be addressed/announced. There is a great deal of sexual assault and child abuse. Even within the first 20% of the book. As someone who has never gone through that I was still disturbed, so I can't even imagine for those that have. So please be aware of that.
The cover drew me to the book first, as I love Marilyn Monroe. I mean, she's freaking gorgeous! I've also had limited reads in the LGBT and decided to broaden my horizons a bit. I wanted to like it more than I did; however, some things were just major turn-offs. Sexual and child abuse was a bit hard to read through. It was also annoying how practically every woman introduced into the story the first detail that was written about them was a description of their boobs: small-breasted, creamy, large boobs. It just kept throwing me off and creating an eye-roll reaction. They also all seemed to have the same "totally" bubbly personality. Either that or they were mean and hated the main characters. There was no in-between with these women. I feel that Orlando has an amazing talent with writing the thoughts and feelings on the men but perhaps needs to work more on the women. At least to make them seem more individualistic.
Overall, the book was fairly decent on my end. It did keep me engaged and wanting to finish it. I loved the different cultures that were incorporated into the story. I kept Googling stuff to learn more and their meanings. Good thing there was a glossary at the end! I spent a few minutes after finishing just to check those out. Thanks for the read, and I look forward to reading more from you Orlando!
This is a story of two young men who's lives are forced together by destiny in the end. It is separated into three sections. First, meet eleven-year-old Japanese-American Kimitake "Clyde" Koba who wholeheartedly believes that he is Marilyn Monroe reincarnated. He begins to take on the way she talks, walks, and interacts with other people for a book report for school and falls even more in love with her. He is severely abused at home by his alcoholic father and his mother fails to help him as she is very passive.
The second section is all about Raphael Dwek. He is a devout Jewish teenager who has a major problem with kleptomania. He seems to be the perfect all-American boy as he gets straight A's in school, an athlete, and an amazing artist. After his sudden ending of therapy, his parents decide, without consulting Ralph, that he needs to be sent to Israel to live his aunt (that hates him). Nothing but troubles follows this young man and he can't seem to shake it off.
A decade later Ralph and Marilyn meet each other in the third section. More trouble ensues when they decide to create a film about people who believe they are reincarnated. This road takes them further than they truly expected and there is no turning back.
Review:
First things first, some major trigger warnings need to be addressed/announced. There is a great deal of sexual assault and child abuse. Even within the first 20% of the book. As someone who has never gone through that I was still disturbed, so I can't even imagine for those that have. So please be aware of that.
The cover drew me to the book first, as I love Marilyn Monroe. I mean, she's freaking gorgeous! I've also had limited reads in the LGBT and decided to broaden my horizons a bit. I wanted to like it more than I did; however, some things were just major turn-offs. Sexual and child abuse was a bit hard to read through. It was also annoying how practically every woman introduced into the story the first detail that was written about them was a description of their boobs: small-breasted, creamy, large boobs. It just kept throwing me off and creating an eye-roll reaction. They also all seemed to have the same "totally" bubbly personality. Either that or they were mean and hated the main characters. There was no in-between with these women. I feel that Orlando has an amazing talent with writing the thoughts and feelings on the men but perhaps needs to work more on the women. At least to make them seem more individualistic.
Overall, the book was fairly decent on my end. It did keep me engaged and wanting to finish it. I loved the different cultures that were incorporated into the story. I kept Googling stuff to learn more and their meanings. Good thing there was a glossary at the end! I spent a few minutes after finishing just to check those out. Thanks for the read, and I look forward to reading more from you Orlando!
September 27, 2019
I disliked this book from the start. It reinforces gay stereotypes in my opinion. I didn’t feel invested in the story at all.
September 9, 2019
Clyde Koba comes to believe he is the reincarnation of Marilyn Monroe. His path eventually crosses that of a formerly religious Israeli-American filmmaker. The two of them team up to tell Clyde's story to the world and to settle a few scores along the way.
Reviewers here seem divided between those who believe Clyde/Marilyn is trans (and hate the book) and those who don’t think Clyde is trans (and love the book). Personally, it’s pretty clear to me that Clyde/Marilyn is NOT trans. There is no such claim in the novel either by the character him/herself or by any other character, including his/her psychologist. Clyde actually believes he is the reincarnation of Marilyn Monroe, and this is the only reason he takes on her identity. Not because he believes he is a woman, but because he believes he is Marilyn. Once I got my head around this, the novel took on a whole other meaning.
As for the other “queer-ish” characters, it’s interesting to note that none of them wears a label. The terms gay, lesbian, bi, trans, queer are never used in this novel — by anyone. Readers who project such labels on these characters are doing a disservice to themselves and to the characters and only sabotage their ability to truly grasp just how brilliant this novel is.
Reviewers here seem divided between those who believe Clyde/Marilyn is trans (and hate the book) and those who don’t think Clyde is trans (and love the book). Personally, it’s pretty clear to me that Clyde/Marilyn is NOT trans. There is no such claim in the novel either by the character him/herself or by any other character, including his/her psychologist. Clyde actually believes he is the reincarnation of Marilyn Monroe, and this is the only reason he takes on her identity. Not because he believes he is a woman, but because he believes he is Marilyn. Once I got my head around this, the novel took on a whole other meaning.
As for the other “queer-ish” characters, it’s interesting to note that none of them wears a label. The terms gay, lesbian, bi, trans, queer are never used in this novel — by anyone. Readers who project such labels on these characters are doing a disservice to themselves and to the characters and only sabotage their ability to truly grasp just how brilliant this novel is.
August 25, 2019
Thought- provoking, entertaining, shocking and amazing. From the moment I started the book I knew it was going to be great. It had a huge impact on me. Everyone needs to read it
January 10, 2023
This book was like a queer version of Boy Parts by Eliza Clarke where we were watching a path of destruction between two morally grey and very unlikable main characters on a collision course.
The writing in the first section definitely wasn’t for me. I’m not a fan of reading from the perspective of children, and the writing reflected the juvenile perspective of our MC and thus it was never gonna work for me lol. The writing got better for Raphael’s sections. Overall, his section was better both plot and style wise. It had interesting conversations and portrayals of orthodox judaism and religion which you could tell came from the author’s personal experience and were richer because of it. I managed to read the first 300 pages really quickly which surprised me. There was still something in the writing throughout that i can only describe as cartoonish(?). It reminded me of the writing i really didn’t like in Light From Uncommon Stars. Just not my personal favourite.
The last section where Marilyn and Jimmy finally come together in the 1980s was much more up my street than the first two.
I would definitely have preferred the representation in this to be “own voices”. It definitely was for Judaism, but the elements of race and gender for Clyde in particular made me feel a bit ehhhh. Obviously neither of our MCs are supposed to be likeable or morally good in this, and i cannot speak on behalf of the rep, but there was just a little something that didn’t sit right with me about it. It is difficult when dealing with unlikable main characters who have bad perspectives on issues bc there’s a line between them and the author yet they still make the reader uncomfortable (likely on purpose). Idk. I just know what *could* be interpreted as a commentary on trans identity with the whole Marilyn thing made me feel weird but also its separate bc Clyde is clearly psychologically going through it (but yet again could be potentially interpreted as a view of transness etc. I’m giving the book the benefit of doubt and separating them). The Japanese rep say I can firmly wasn’t really a fan of.
Also - why does this author love depicting incest between cousins so much lol.
The writing in the first section definitely wasn’t for me. I’m not a fan of reading from the perspective of children, and the writing reflected the juvenile perspective of our MC and thus it was never gonna work for me lol. The writing got better for Raphael’s sections. Overall, his section was better both plot and style wise. It had interesting conversations and portrayals of orthodox judaism and religion which you could tell came from the author’s personal experience and were richer because of it. I managed to read the first 300 pages really quickly which surprised me. There was still something in the writing throughout that i can only describe as cartoonish(?). It reminded me of the writing i really didn’t like in Light From Uncommon Stars. Just not my personal favourite.
The last section where Marilyn and Jimmy finally come together in the 1980s was much more up my street than the first two.
I would definitely have preferred the representation in this to be “own voices”. It definitely was for Judaism, but the elements of race and gender for Clyde in particular made me feel a bit ehhhh. Obviously neither of our MCs are supposed to be likeable or morally good in this, and i cannot speak on behalf of the rep, but there was just a little something that didn’t sit right with me about it. It is difficult when dealing with unlikable main characters who have bad perspectives on issues bc there’s a line between them and the author yet they still make the reader uncomfortable (likely on purpose). Idk. I just know what *could* be interpreted as a commentary on trans identity with the whole Marilyn thing made me feel weird but also its separate bc Clyde is clearly psychologically going through it (but yet again could be potentially interpreted as a view of transness etc. I’m giving the book the benefit of doubt and separating them). The Japanese rep say I can firmly wasn’t really a fan of.
Also - why does this author love depicting incest between cousins so much lol.
May 15, 2019
This challenging, psychological novel opens with a very fitting epigraph drawn from the Buddhist scriptures:
“One who is born suffers a life of bondage, flagellation, and unceasing agony. And one who is born must die. This is why I do not approve of birth.”
As if to illustrate the point, the novel then proceeds to tell the stories of its two protagonists – Kimitake Koba and Raphael Dweck – in three acts.
In Act 1, Kimitake (also known as Clyde) seeks shelter from his dysfunctional childhood in the belief that Marilyn Monroe’s spirit was reincarnated in his body on the day he was born. (Marilyn died on the same day Clyde was born.)
In Act 2, Raphael Dweck, the sexually precocious child of religiously observant Israeli immigrants, struggles with his identity and the urge to steal. Hoping the experience will straighten him out, his parents send him back to Israel to live with estranged relatives in the Negev desert.
Kimitake and Raphael’s stories converge in the electrifying Act 3, which practically jumps off the page, when they meet as adults on the streets of Hollywood. Still fighting their demons, the two play off of each other to contend with a range of ethical issues, including identity, revenge, and religion, to name a few. To say more would spoil the story for other readers, so I’ll just stop here.
There is definitely a talented author at work here: I found the prose to be brilliant and easy to read; the characters were well-developed and accessible; and the story, dark as it is, elicited strong emotions in me that were difficult to shake off, and left me contemplating the underlying message of the futility of life.
Clearly, this novel is not one for the faint of heart, or for those seeking a Hollywood-style happy ending . That said, I give this novel an objective 5 stars for its fantastic prose, excellent character development, skilful plotting, and its ability to move me to the depth of my emotions.
I received a copy of the book to review.
“One who is born suffers a life of bondage, flagellation, and unceasing agony. And one who is born must die. This is why I do not approve of birth.”
As if to illustrate the point, the novel then proceeds to tell the stories of its two protagonists – Kimitake Koba and Raphael Dweck – in three acts.
In Act 1, Kimitake (also known as Clyde) seeks shelter from his dysfunctional childhood in the belief that Marilyn Monroe’s spirit was reincarnated in his body on the day he was born. (Marilyn died on the same day Clyde was born.)
In Act 2, Raphael Dweck, the sexually precocious child of religiously observant Israeli immigrants, struggles with his identity and the urge to steal. Hoping the experience will straighten him out, his parents send him back to Israel to live with estranged relatives in the Negev desert.
Kimitake and Raphael’s stories converge in the electrifying Act 3, which practically jumps off the page, when they meet as adults on the streets of Hollywood. Still fighting their demons, the two play off of each other to contend with a range of ethical issues, including identity, revenge, and religion, to name a few. To say more would spoil the story for other readers, so I’ll just stop here.
There is definitely a talented author at work here: I found the prose to be brilliant and easy to read; the characters were well-developed and accessible; and the story, dark as it is, elicited strong emotions in me that were difficult to shake off, and left me contemplating the underlying message of the futility of life.
Clearly, this novel is not one for the faint of heart, or for those seeking a Hollywood-style happy ending . That said, I give this novel an objective 5 stars for its fantastic prose, excellent character development, skilful plotting, and its ability to move me to the depth of my emotions.
I received a copy of the book to review.
September 4, 2019
::I received an ARC of this book from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. Thank you for the opportunity to read your work!::
This week I read #TheDeathOfBaseball by #OrlandoOrtegaMedina . I must say that I absolutely requested to read this book based on the cover alone. It promised something unique, and boy did it deliver. Now to the book...this novel is broken in several parts, and begins like a coming of age story for Japanese American boy named Clyde. Clyde was born August 5th, 1962 which is the same day Marilyn Monroe died. Clyde believes he is the reincarnation of Marilyn as he starts to navigate adolescence and his burgeoning sexuality. In the next section we meet a young Jewish boy named Raphael, who is a kleptomanic with a desire to be deeply religious. Raphael's scenes in Israel were so beautifully written. I've never been, but I felt as though I could see desert landscape. We follow each of their stories separately until the two meet up as adults and chaos seems to propel the reader to the finish. I think the author is dabbling in some interesting ideas when the characters face several crises of faith. One thing I'm not sure about in this book was the depiction of a possibly trans person being mentally ill. Now, I am not informed enough to speak with clarity or authority on trans issues, but at first Clyde seems to embrace this idea of reincarnation and lives as Marilyn, then later it seems as though being Marilyn is an unhinged part of his fractured self. And even later still, the identity of Marilyn is discarded or purged. Like I said, I'm not sure exactly what's going on there, but it made me take pause and consider if this was a fair depiction of someone struggling with identity. And I'd like to mention a few caution warnings..there's violence, sexual assault, coercion, and as children there are some sexual exploration scenes.
This week I read #TheDeathOfBaseball by #OrlandoOrtegaMedina . I must say that I absolutely requested to read this book based on the cover alone. It promised something unique, and boy did it deliver. Now to the book...this novel is broken in several parts, and begins like a coming of age story for Japanese American boy named Clyde. Clyde was born August 5th, 1962 which is the same day Marilyn Monroe died. Clyde believes he is the reincarnation of Marilyn as he starts to navigate adolescence and his burgeoning sexuality. In the next section we meet a young Jewish boy named Raphael, who is a kleptomanic with a desire to be deeply religious. Raphael's scenes in Israel were so beautifully written. I've never been, but I felt as though I could see desert landscape. We follow each of their stories separately until the two meet up as adults and chaos seems to propel the reader to the finish. I think the author is dabbling in some interesting ideas when the characters face several crises of faith. One thing I'm not sure about in this book was the depiction of a possibly trans person being mentally ill. Now, I am not informed enough to speak with clarity or authority on trans issues, but at first Clyde seems to embrace this idea of reincarnation and lives as Marilyn, then later it seems as though being Marilyn is an unhinged part of his fractured self. And even later still, the identity of Marilyn is discarded or purged. Like I said, I'm not sure exactly what's going on there, but it made me take pause and consider if this was a fair depiction of someone struggling with identity. And I'd like to mention a few caution warnings..there's violence, sexual assault, coercion, and as children there are some sexual exploration scenes.
November 4, 2019
This book took me on a ride! Just when I thought I knew where it was going it veered off in another direction. The stories of Clyde and Raphael hooked me; I felt all their pain and joy and struggle. I especially enjoyed that the "coming out/coming of age" portions of the story were set in worlds not typically explored in the coming out genre (a Japanese-American household, an Israeli-American family, and small town Israel). Some of the over-the-top things that happen in the third act felt a little much and a little "kill your gays," but the characters had also been through so much in their life that extreme actions could be motivated. Overall, I do recommend it and look forward to this author's next work.
November 4, 2019
The short version I can give you is that this book is amazing. Our main character believes he is the embodiment of the late Marilyn Monroe and honestly, I don't think there's anything wrong with that. His family sends him packing "back" to Israel, I'm pretty sure, to wash the gay out of him (SPOILER: it doesn't work) and hilarity, self reflection and amusing interactions ensues. The Death of Baseball had me howling at times, from being beyond perfect. And even though the main character was annoying with teenage angst and attitude, I found myself loving him immensely.
The Death of Baseball comes out 11.19.19.
4/5 Stars
The Death of Baseball comes out 11.19.19.
4/5 Stars
May 2, 2020
I bought this book in Soho, London last year whist on holidays intrigued by the cover and storyline. Overall I found this a confronting read - it deals with complex themes including child abuse, mental illness, religious tension and gender identity and is not a light novel that one should probably choose to read in the midst of a global pandemic. That said, I found the two central characters engaging and compelling in their own way and enjoyed the Thelma and Louise feel to the book. Overall a strong novel but one that had potential to be a lot better as for to me the writing dragged in some parts - enjoyable but had potential for more.
September 15, 2019
Intriguing, dark and powerful storytelling at its best! In my top five (if not THE favorite) books I've read this year. Orlando Ortega-Medina brings to life two fascinating and unique characters and then fuses them together in a plot that takes you on an unexpected wild ride. I'm crossing my fingers that one of Hollywood's adventurous directors will bring this to the big screen. An outstanding book that will stay with you long after you turn the last page.
I received a copy from the publisher through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
I received a copy from the publisher through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
July 6, 2020
This is a wild and crazy read! And I loved every minute of it. Touching. Tragic. Frightening. Funny. Part fantasy - part intense reality. Like its peculiar title and insane cover, I find it difficult to put into words what goes on here without giving too much away. I'll just say this - read it. It's like watching an action movie come suspense where you spend half the time thinking it's all really happening and the other half thinking this is too crazy, while enjoying every minute. And Ortega-Medina does all that while weaving in some tough lessons.
April 23, 2021
3.5 stars
My favourite part of this book was the middle section set in Israel. I really enjoyed the descriptions of the landscape, the insight into Judaism and Raphael’s relationship with Yossi.
I found most of the third part when Raphael and Marilyn meet again underwhelming. I didn’t really get where it was going or fully understand their motivations. I didn’t like either of the characters by this point, so maybe this was also why I didn’t connect with this part of the novel. I did enjoy the ending though and liked the clarity and sense of self Kim finds.
My favourite part of this book was the middle section set in Israel. I really enjoyed the descriptions of the landscape, the insight into Judaism and Raphael’s relationship with Yossi.
I found most of the third part when Raphael and Marilyn meet again underwhelming. I didn’t really get where it was going or fully understand their motivations. I didn’t like either of the characters by this point, so maybe this was also why I didn’t connect with this part of the novel. I did enjoy the ending though and liked the clarity and sense of self Kim finds.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
May 15, 2020
The cover OBVIOUSLY catches your attention and then the emotional insides, much like Marilyn Monroe, are complex, dark, and yet beautiful. This is one of those books you find yourself returning to and rereading because you can’t get it out of your head. The writing is so incredible that you owe it to yourself to read this book. Trust me. Stop reading this review and go get this book.
September 26, 2019
A compelling novel about the early and late lives of two queer men, about abuse and abusing, about trauma and toxic masculinity. Intense and real and wrenching, this is a meditation on parent-child relationships, families, and desire in many forms. CW for violence.
April 12, 2020
Interesting story and the author does a nice job interweaving the characters. Some of the material borders on graphic, but overall well done. I was happy to receive an ARC of the book in exchange for a review.
May 8, 2020
A strange, but interesting story
got this as part of a goodreads giveaway. I enjoyed it decent amount, definitely an original story. Could have done with less romance with cousins, however.
got this as part of a goodreads giveaway. I enjoyed it decent amount, definitely an original story. Could have done with less romance with cousins, however.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
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February 27, 2020Pretty histrionic.
September 27, 2022
(Won this book on Goodreads) Tale of two boys who struggle with who they really are and how to feel accepted in their families and life. A little bit of humor, sadness, and anger are all mixed up in this read. You come to understand and like the characters and the read was very easy to jump right in and get hooked.
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February 7, 2020I have been struggling with writing a review ever since I started reading this ARC. The reason I requested it was because the cover drew me in and after reading the blurb I thought to myself “This can either go really well, or end in a disaster.”
I was hoping for the first. I was hoping for a sensitive approach and exploration of gender, identity, and queer love in a historical context. I was hoping for nuance and empathy and respect. What I got was… not that. Which is why I didn’t fill out the usual tags at the top of the review. I can’t do it, because I’m not sure what the author was telling me here and how to interpret it.
You can find my full review on the blog, including spoilers and my struggle to explain what is in this book and how it affected me. The gist of it: it was painful to read and I hated it.
https://smallqueerbigopinions.wordpre...
I was hoping for the first. I was hoping for a sensitive approach and exploration of gender, identity, and queer love in a historical context. I was hoping for nuance and empathy and respect. What I got was… not that. Which is why I didn’t fill out the usual tags at the top of the review. I can’t do it, because I’m not sure what the author was telling me here and how to interpret it.
You can find my full review on the blog, including spoilers and my struggle to explain what is in this book and how it affected me. The gist of it: it was painful to read and I hated it.
https://smallqueerbigopinions.wordpre...
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