Title | : | Lost Boi |
Author | : | |
Rating | : | |
ISBN | : | 155152581X |
ISBN-10 | : | 9781551525815 |
Language | : | English |
Format Type | : | Paperback |
Number of Pages | : | 233 |
Publication | : | First published April 6, 2015 |
In Sassafras Lowrey's gorgeous queer punk reimagining of the classic Peter Pan story, prepare to be swept overboard into a world of orphaned, abandoned, and runaway bois who have sworn allegiance and service to Pan, the fearless leader of the Lost Bois brigade and the newly corrupted Mommy Wendi who, along with the tomboy John Michael, Pan convinces to join him at Neverland.
Told from the point of view of Tootles, Pan's best boi, the lost bois call the Neverland squat home, creating their own idea of family, and united in their allegiance to Pan, the boi who cannot be broken, and their refusal to join ranks with Hook and the leather pirates. Like a fever-pitched dream, Lost Boi situates a children's fantasy within a subversive alternative reality, chronicling the lost bois' search for belonging, purpose, and their struggle against the biggest battle of all: growing up.
Lost Boi Reviews
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There’s always been something intrinsically queer about the Peter Pan story, from its androgynous title character – played by a woman in the stage adaptation – to its testosterone-fuelled lost boys vs. pirates battles, not to mention the campily outfitted, moustachioed villain, Captain Hook.
But Brooklyn-based writer Sassafras Lowrey takes things to the entertaining extreme in Lost Boi, a queer punk BDSM reimagining of the J.M. Barrie tale that says as much about gender fluidity as it does the disenfranchisement of queer homeless youth.
In Lowrey’s unnamed urban landscape, Neverland is a rundown squat inhabited by Pan and his lost bois – each of whom was orphaned and/or thrown out of home. Occasionally they engage in some playful sparring with the neighbouring leather pirates, which includes flying – i.e., being bound and strung up to have sex – and any number of role-playing games. And then there are their marginalized comrades, the Mermaids, a group of femme prostitutes who work the lagoon. Everyone tries to avoid the seductive jaws of the Crocodile, a menacing euphemism for heroin.
When Pan meets Wendi at a spoken-word night, he convinces her to come to Neverland to become a Mommy to him and his bois. This upsets the balance of power, and provides the book with its only narrative tension.
While Lost Boi is occasionally disorienting and flat – so many characters introduced at once! too much telling rather than showing! – Lowrey subtly interweaves fantasy elements with harsh reality. There’s an especially strong look at how difficult it is for homeless people to integrate into so-called normal middle-class society.
And there’s no judgment about gender and sexual activity. The BDSM scenes are cleverly written so a lot’s left to your imagination. At heart, the book’s about living among people who accept and understand you for who you are, not who you’re supposed to be.
Even Disney would approve of that.
**
Originally published in NOW Magazine
here -
The blurbs on the back of Lost Boi seem to mostly focus on the anthem-like qualities of the novel. And the novel -is- an anthem in that it depicts a world where everyone is queer and everyone celebrates their queerness, or even takes it for granted as the way things are in Neverland.
But celebration of identity was only part of the "Neverland" metaphor for me. There was also a dark and unsafe quality to the Neverland metaphor when it's transplanted to a queer context. The "lost bois" in this novel are runaways, just as they are in Barrie's original Peter Pan story. But in a queer context, a novel about runaways also feels like an unflinching nod to the truth, that queer/trans teens make up a disproportionately large percentage of runaways and homeless youth. Wendi and John Michael are in high school at the beginning of the novel when they run away with Pan. They are still in the foster care system--so, under 18. And while the character of Pan (never "Peter Pan") is depicted as ageless, as in the original material, he feels older to me. He feels predatory. He's the only character who is called by the pronoun "he." I kept imagining the hairy half-goat god Pan, not the little boy in green from the Disney version, and not a "boi" either. While on one level Pan acts as a guide to a world where queerness is fully celebrated, on another level he, and Neverland, felt to me like metaphors for a real-world reality where young queer runaways are in constant danger of being sexually exploited.
I have to say this was obviously my very individual read of the text. It felt gritty and disturbing and threatening to me, as well as celebratory. For me, the entire read vibrated between these two interpretations--both a celebration of identity, and an acknowledgment of how unsafe it is to be queer. The submission/dominance themes that occur throughout the novel felt like another reflection of this dichotomy, and they increased my sense of vulnerability as a reader. This novel is an exploration of how, in the act of accepting your identity, you're also accepting that you're living in a hostile world. The characters in Lost Boi love their life, and they love one another. But even in Neverland it's dangerous to be queer. -
My expectations were so high for this book just based on the premise: a queer, punk retelling of Peter Pan. From the first page I was relieved that this was exactly the book I was hoping it would be. Lowrey’s interpretation works incredibly well, somehow incorporating so many familiar elements and even lines into a whole different setting. Not only was this enjoyable to read, it also left me thinking about gender, consent, and what it means to “grow up.” This is not a book for everyone: it is about living a 24/7 D/s relationship and also tackles homelessness, poverty, and addiction. But that was what made me fall in love with Lost Boi: it is absolutely unapologetic about what it is and who it appeals to, and I think that’s what makes it so successful. — Danika Ellis
from The Best Books We Read In May:
http://bookriot.com/2015/06/02/riot-r... -
You guys. I think this book completely ruined my childhood. And I'm not sure that's a bad thing. At all.
Also... I am suddenly, painfully aware that I am one vanilla, hetero, prude, married, cisgender person. I might be too much of all of those things to have been completely emotionally and psychologically prepared for this book. But again: I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing. Reading this queer, punk, contemporary retelling of Peter Pan was a bit like getting thrown in the deep end of a pool full of Tabasco flavored ice cream, dildos, and literal mermaids. It was weird and wonderful and slightly uncomfortable and sweet and I'm pretty sure I lost another form of virginity through the experience.
But I'm totally burying the lead. Because this is a QUEER, PUNK, CONTEMPORARY PETER PAN! And that makes so much sense! Like, the kind of sense that makes you feel kind of dull for not thinking of it sooner. The metaphor is frighteningly, brilliantly organic and natural. And that's Sassafras Lowrey's real genius.
Let's get one thing out of the way: if you are easily shocked... maybe give this one a pass. And if you are at all uncomfortable with or disapproving of people of atypical gender identities and sexual orientations, then definitely give it a pass. Actually you know what? If you fall under the latter category, then I don't even want to know you so you can just see yourself out of my Goodreads review at this time. Thanks much.
Pan and his lost bois are a gang of youngish polyamorous transmen, lesbians, and gender fluid people. Hook and his pirates are a crew of older leather daddies into S&M role play. The mermaids are a group of femme sex workers. And Wendi is the 18-year-old femme lesbian foster child who becomes the group Mommy fetish of Pan and his lost bois. Everybody fucks. As previously stated, I am a vanilla pearl-clutcher and yet I enjoyed the hell out of it.
The story is told from the point of view of Tootles, Pan's second-in-command and a young transman who endured homelessness and abuse before Pan took him under his wing. And the beautiful thing about Tootles's narration is it's completely honest and matter-of-fact yet sensitive. There are no euphemisms for sexual acts or fetishes. There is no shying away from the realities of their squatter lifestyle nor emotional tribulations. And yet there is also no over-explaining. Never does Tootles take a moment to say "Ok well Pan and I are both FTM, pre-surgery transgender men and we are also polyamorous and pansexual..." Instead Tootles shows us his breast binders, the ace bandage Pan wears, his tentative exclusive relationship with Siren the mermaid butting up against his close polyamorous bond with the other lost bois and his totally sweet devotion to Wendi. Writing Tootles as the narrator rather than Pan, Wendi, or Hook was a brilliant choice by Lowrey.
Let me assure you: this book is not all about the sex, though I maybe have made it sound like that so far. Rather, it makes a really interesting, delicate, rather heartbreaking point about the nature of changing relationships and growing up. Pan really is the perpetual child, enforcing draconian rules on his lost bois to keep the fantasy from blowing away in the wind. He literally "forgets" lost bois when they "grow up" by deciding they're done with the squatting commune of Neverland. We are never told how old Pan or any of the lost bois are, but every character is definitely over the age of consent. And it's clear that Pan doesn't want anything to change: he wants to keep the lost bois, the pirates, and the mermaids all frozen in time so he can engage in his preteen age play for as long as he wants. And when Wendi---who he had counted on to perpetuate the fantasy---inevitably shakes things up, he pushes back with heartbreaking emotional violence.
We all have to grow up, though. And we all have to deal with reality. Hook does not get to be the captain with impeccably good form while he's battling "the Crocodile." Eventually he has to admit defeat to his heroin addiction, and none of his good form nor money, connections, or respect can save him. Wendi and John Michael have to admit that as foster children, the best way to escape the system is to go through it: to graduate high school and start careers and achieve true financial independence as adults.
We all have to grow up.
I thought there were a few pieces of the original story that would have been better left un-adapted. The lost bois all have "fairies" like Tink... except they're pigeons who roost in the rafters of Neverland and aside from carrying messages don't really serve a purpose in the story. (There's a dog who could carry messages. Or hell, figure out how to work a cell phone into the story?) The pigeons/fairies were a little dumb.
But I loved that the "urban savages"---this story's version of the horrifically racist parody of Native Americans from the source material---made only a brief cameo. They were only on the page long enough for all the characters to agree that those hipster assholes were racist and appropriative and best avoided. And they were never mentioned again. Which is some A+ literary shade if I do say so myself.
One thing that made me a little disappointed is that while there was plenty of glorious talk about consent and drug addiction and sexual subcultures and aftercare... there was nothing written about avoiding STDs or pregnancy. Nary a condom or diaphragm appears in this book. Or if it did, I blinked and missed it. And I almost think that's irresponsible in a story like this. There's some exposition about how Hook is a leather daddy trained in the ways of the great leather men of San Francisco from "before," which I believe is alluding to the AIDS epidemic in the 1980s. But after that, the issue of STDs is wholly glossed over. And maybe that's as it should be in what is essentially a fairy tale (uh... pun not intended). But it also seems a mite irresponsible in a book that gets sexual relationships and identities so, so right otherwise.
Needless to say, I was completely charmed and intrigued by this story. I finished it in a single day, mostly during an international plane flight. I think it's a very clever exploration of identity and the changeable nature of relationships. It's one of the few examples I can remember that is totally unapologetic about sex and also completely positive and correct in its depiction of consent. The denouement is too bittersweet to ruin, and it caught me by surprise despite knowing the source material. It made me uncomfortable (in both good and bad ways), it made me smile, it made me glad that growing up is something I came to terms with easily, if not happily. -
God, I wanted to like this book. I really, truly did. As a queer transmasculine person, I've been dying for a novel involving queer/trans characters that aren't the classic "LGBT narrative" of the hardships of coming out and being abused for their identity and whatnot. I've wanted a book that allows characters like myself to have our own stories and adventures.
So of course I picked up this book in excitement. However, I quickly found that it wasn't for me. I found the "Mommy/little Boi" sexual aspect very uncomfortable, as well as the undisclosed ages of Pan and his Lost Bois. Much of the dialogue, obviously meant to fit in with the Peter Pan universe, was hard to take seriously as it came off as very unrealistic.
I wanted to like this book very much despite the D/s dynamic not being my forte, but I feel as though it fell short in a lot of ways and I just hope that it will help pave the way for other genre books involving trans characters that is not so niche. -
From the first couple pages, I knew Lost Boi was exactly what I was hoping it would be. This is a queer punk D/s retelling of Peter Pan, and it has so much going for it. First of all, the book itself looks beautiful. I love that the black cover with the gold framing and deckle edges makes it almost look like a bible, which is hilarious. I loved that it's from the perspective of one of the lost bois, Tootles. I loved the voice, I loved how well Sassafras Lowrey incorporated and reinterpreted the original story. This was thought-provoking and totally absorbing. Definitely, definitely recommended, though I have no idea what reading this would be like for a straight/cis person with no interest in or knowledge of D/s, and frankly, that's partly what I love about this book. It doesn't try to be accessible to a mainstream audience, and even when I couldn't relate or totally understand, I was so grateful for that.
-
Lost Boi delivers exactly what it promises: a queer, punk retelling of Peter Pan with all kinds of D/s goodness wrapped in.
It is remarkable in its originality for a derivative work, and I enjoyed seeing the classic story re-imagined in this way. The ideas--the particular ways in which Lowrey queered Barrie's work are fascinating, easily visualized, and compellingly described.
At times I felt the story was limited by a more-tell-than-show narration, and a euphemistic coyness about sex and violence, however, I would not discourage anyone from reading it because of either of those things.
Recommended for those interested in queer lit outside of the romance genre (yes, please, more please, come on publishers, we need these stories) and for those interested particularly in retellings, in queering classic lit, and so on. -
1.5/5stars
me: *makes a video all about how reading books that make you uncomfortable are important*
me: *gonna talk about how uncomfy this book made me*
SO. This book. Was a lot. It made me EXTREMELY uncomfortable, and I definitely wouldn't have finished it if not for my thesis.
So this is a Peter Pan retelling - Peter Pan. Ya know, the children's book - about children characters - written for children. This book is marketed as a YA book - meaning for young adults, teenagers, aka; people who probably read Peter Pan as a kid.
This book, over sexualized this children's story worse than I've ever seen it in my life - and I'm writing a whole thesis on Peter Pan retellings. This book literally makes every part of Neverland - the Lost Boys, The Mermaids, The Pirates - all into different sex gangs. Yeah. Listen. I am extremely sex positive, I will talk to people about kinks all damn day, but making a retelling of a CHILDREN'S STORY with those elements... just why? Just write it as a regular book - why did it have to be Peter Pan? I was so uncomfortable with the constant images of sex, dom/sub undertones, and kinks being discussed with these characters pulled from Barrie's novel. It felt like a fanfiction that I never would have clicked on and if I did I would have clicked away immediately. Again, maybe this would have been fine if it WASNT a CHILDREN'S STORY.
The good part of this book was the wicked queer rep - nearly everyone is gay, trans, nonbinary, or other parts of the LGBT community.
But sorry, I can't get past oversexualizing children. -
Lost Boi by Sassafras Lowrey
Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐/5
I don’t even know what to say first about this book. Was it obscure, secretive and edgy? Yes, yes it was. Was it queer and proud of itself? Yes, it definitely was. The story didn’t try to hide anything, that’s for sure. It deals with some heavy stuff like BDSM, D/s, kinks, as well as matters of homelessness and drug abuse.
First I want to say a big thank you to @queerbiblioboy for recommending this book. The moment I saw his post about it, I knew I had to get it. And I did. I bought it and, surprisingly, read it immediately. Well, as immediately as exams would allow me. This retelling of the classic children's story Peter Pan, took the world of Neverland as we know it and brought it upside down, or rather, brought it into a completely new light which added a flare I had never thought would match a story like this.
Admittedly, I was a bit confused at the start as I tried to piece together what had remained intact from the original story and what hadn’t, but soon, I delved deeper into the author’s writing – which is excellent, if I have to say – and got really invested in the story of Tootles, one of Pan's lost bois. Suddenly, characters like Pan and Hook and even the lost boys were presented through a whole new perspective, with unlikely depth, even for a book that’s less than 250 pages long.
Needless to say, I enjoyed this very much. It was very appropriate to read during pride month. It was unapologetically queer.
"There is magic everywhere around you, but most people are too busy being grownup to notice it." -
God, this book. I was SO EXCITED, which probably made the let down even worse. Like, queer novels? Check. Gender swapping? Check. Modern interpretations of classic stories? Check. This book should have been a slam dunk for me. What could possibly go wrong?
Well, let's start with the world's least compelling narrator. Toodles (Tootles? I can't be bothered to check) tells the story of Pan and Wendi with a disconnectedness that almost reads as boredom. I can almost see this story being told through a haze of the Harry Potter universe's truth serum, it's so simplistic. "And then he did this, and then she did that, and then he did this other thing." There are no vivid descriptions, there are no emotions, there is no nuance to anything. There is also pretty much no sex, which wouldn't be an issue except that this is a book explicitly about a kink community. I've never read something so utterly boring and unsexy. This is the bare bones outline of what could potentially have been an interesting novel if someone had bothered to actually write it.
Not only was this book boring, but I also found it disturbingly irresponsible. This is a world in which a dom in their late 30s takes advantage of homeless teens, some under 18, indoctrinating them into an emotionally abusive cult of worship where safe words are for pussies and drugs are a reasonable punishment. This is a world where letting someone die of an OD is presented as somehow noble, and where sending your young partner off with a former partner twice their age is a sweet and nostalgic vignette, not a disturbing and dangerous life choice.
The further I got from this book, the more I disliked it. Its heavy handedness in explaining the parallels between the original Peter Pan assumed that the reader was completely unable to interpret nuance. Its language was stilted and dull. Its portrayal of alternative sexualities and genders was confusing and irresponsible rather than representative. But I think the thing I hated most was how much of a missed opportunity it was. -
This is a dangerous book. And that's a very, very good thing.
Lowrey has created a genderqueer D/s reworking of Peter Pan, here, and it is stunningly good. But it is not a safe book by any means, and that makes it powerful and necessary. Literature, the good stuff, the real stuff, isn't safe, isn't merely a pleasant diversion for a Sunday afternoon. Here is a literary ancestor of Delany's works. Here is a literary ancestor for Burroughs' Wild Boys.
Punky, thrilling, sweet, dangerous...if I could give it more than 5 stars, I would. HIGHLY recommended. -
I really don't know how to talk about this one. It's been nearly twelve hours since I turned the last page, and I'm still raw over it. It feels like bleeding.
This is a queer retelling of Peter Pan; specifically a genderqueer retelling, with heavy D/s themes and a brutal examination of the realities of social services and life on the streets. I found the dialogue pretty weak but there's very little of it; the book is narrated by Tootles, Pan's right-hand boi, and Tootle's voice is wonderful. You'll be amazed and delighted with how cleverly Lowry has taken the elements of the original story and re-imagined them for this world, where Neverland is an abandoned warehouse and the lost boys are really lost bois, a host of genderqueer submissives to their Sir Pan; where Wendy - now Wendi - is coaxed out the window not to play Mother but a D/s Mommy; where Hook is a strict Traditional Top and the Crocodile is a drug. It's wicked and witty and delightful, and amazingly true to the original tale in ways I wouldn't have believed possible had someone told me so before I'd read it.
It's a beautifully readable book - I flew through it in about five hours - not least because it's very difficult to put it down for more than a few minutes. But beyond being a great story and a wonderful re-telling, I've come away feeling that Lost Boi is also a vitally necessary book. Lowrey is writing about some of the least-accepted minorities in the modern West, and about the homeless kids we try to pretend don't exist, and all the ways our society fails them, over and over. It's a beautiful book but a bitter one, full of magic and hope that is unbearably tempered by the unremittingly harsh reality. In a lot of ways it's an uncomfortable book, but it's the uncomfortable stories that most need telling, and reading, and I'm both grateful than Lowrey wrote this and that I managed to find it.
I still don't know what to say about it. I guess I'll finish by saying that this is one of those books I wish I could make compulsory reading in schools, for its wide-eyed look at reality and its unrepentant queer core, for its honesty and its fantasy, its beauty and its ugliness. It's stunning and painful in equal measure, and I think that's what a treasure is supposed to be. -
You know how you love a story as a kid, but when you grow up you feel sad because it's not about you?
Sassafras Lowrey takes Peter Pan and Wendy and makes it about people like me - and breathes in all the terrible sweet truths about love and longing, belonging and losing, knowing who you are and forgetting and remembering it again. This sexy, queer, and heartbreaking tale of what happens to the Lost Bois when Pan brings Wendi home to be their Mommy is a must for anyone who felt lost. -
I had very complicated feelings about this one, but I'm not sure if I want to do a full-length review; still mulling over it...
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I thought it was a heartwarming found family trope. Oh, boi💀
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Peter Pan re-imaged, his story revised and lavished in overt sexual themes and street life struggles, yet this distinct and dastardly different story manages to remain loyal to the source material.
Reader warning - there is a clear distinction between the popular children's tale Pan and LOST BOI - author Sassafras Lowrey's book is decidedly adult, replacing motherly affection with fantasy role-play and fairies with pigeons among other switches that emphasize the sexual connotations of the original in full frontal adult narrative.
LOST BOI is a clever retelling of the classic tale. Taking every element of the well known lost boy and Neverland and transposing it into a dirty street grime tale of lost souls who only want to feel needed and loved. This results in an interesting page turner that, while won't appeal to all, will tick all the boxes for originality and entertaining storytelling.
For me, 2.5 stars. Whilst I liked the book, there were momentary lapses where it struggled to fully garner my attention. -
“ There is magic everywhere around you, but most people are too busy being grownup to notice it. ”
Lost Boi by Sassafras Lowrey was a book I didn’t know I wanted, but definitely needed. Lost Boi is an obscure retelling of Peter Pan. It’s queer, punk and full of kink.
The story is from the perspective of Tootles, one of the lost boi’s that is completely devoted to Pan and his life living in Neverland; which is a run down warehouse where him, Pan and the boi’s find home within.
The book is heavy, and by that I mean it deals with very adult topics such as Dom/Sub Roles, the kink life style, drug abuse, homelessness and the difficult dealings with growing up.
I read this book in one sitting and it’s definitely going to be a book I’ll return too. It was just...I felt homely while reading it. There was things I felt such a deep connection too and it’s the first time I’ve read a book where I could point and go “that’s me.”
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normally, i am really really not a big fan of retellings of classic stories with a modern twist. but how could i resist this one?! i love pigeons more than faeries and this whole book is just bursting with sweetness and magic, despite the gloomy realities of the characters' lives. and it's more than just "a queer/punk/kinky retelling of peter pan," it's also a critique of the shittiness of child welfare agencies, an exploration of the complexities of serving populations that you once were a part of, a tangled heap of polyamorous love stories. the ending was particularly poignant for me, because on some level i'm living it (which i kind of wasn't expecting since this book is so much in the realm of magic/un-reality, i wasn't expecting to find my actual literal experiences in there). it's super good and gave me a lot to think about.
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Solid, interesting retelling of the Pan myth, set in the polyamorous, queer, punk squat Neverland. Really good parallels to the story, very interesting interpretations. I like seeing some of my communities/culture reflected in the larger myths, that's really exciting.
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Update: This is no longer the worst book I've ever read in my life
Look, this genuinely has to be one of the worst books I've ever read in my life, and I don't say things like that lightly. I don't usually read books hoping they'll be bad, because books take time and a dedicated effort to read, and my ADHD brain doesn't have the patience for bad books. This one had some pretty good and strong elements that saved it from a straight-up one star, but ultimately the bad outweighs the good in my opinion. This book had so much potential that it just didn't deliver upon.
Things I Liked:
1. The worldbuilding in this book really came to life for me. I loved the gritty atmosphere of this world and the way it seamlessly blended with magic, whether it be real or psychological. The way that a magical worldview is used to shape the way this darker, more dangerous world is seen and described by its inhabitants, gives it a lot of charm and makes it unique and interesting. It's a very good sign when a reader, watcher, etc. wants to return to the world you created. (Even if the rest of it makes it almost not worth it.)
2. This book can essentially be described as a sort of commentary on the struggles that homeless queer youths face, and one thing I will always appreciate this book for is drawing attention to that. I understand why Peter Pan was the story to retell here. A lot of the characters in this book might be somewhat weak, but the only time I actually feel any sympathy for anyone is when the Lost Bois talk about the tragic pasts that led them there.
3.
4. I like the way in which some of the elements from the original were adapted to this version, particularly in the form of drugs. The Crocodile is a metaphor for heroin, and pixie dust is a metaphor for cocaine. I thought it was a pretty clever and interesting take on the original. There's a character in the book named Gator, who only appears in one scene, which is a shame since I would have liked to see more of her. I assume she's a drug dealer, though it's never explicitly stated.
5. And finally, the last redeeming quality is Hook and the Leather Pirates. Hook is by far the best character in this book, since he at least has motivations that make sense, and from the looks of it, he seems pretty honorable and respectable, especially compared to *others.* I do however think that When the Leather Pirates are first described, I'll be honest, joining them seemed like a way better deal than joining Pan and the Lost Bois (even though they have a few problems of their own, but they're still the better of the two, and I will stand by that.)
Things I Hated:
I'm going to start with some of the more minor things before I get into the big stuff.
1. I never understood the use of the terms boi and grrrl. They just kind of use them throughout the book and it's never really explained why. Honestly, there's nothing that boi and grrrl really have that boy and girl don't. They could have just said boy and girl and the story would have remained exactly the same. What it feels like to me is a "subversive queer punk" reimagining of the gender binary. Sorry not sorry.
2. A very small note, but at the beginning of the book, a group called the Urban Primitives is introduced to the reader. They're said to be a group of racist punks and that's all we know about them. I get the feeling they might be there as a stand-in for the racist Native American portrayals in the original? Not exactly sure, but that might be it.
My issue is that they're only mentioned twice in the book and never again. It would have been fine if they had at least some impact on the story, but if they're not going to do anything, if they're just going to be a background note in the story, why have them exist in the first place? One of the rules of good storytelling is that if something doesn't serve your story, at least in some way, it doesn't have to be major, then you need to get rid of it.
Now we're getting into the big stuff.
3. The ages of all the Lost Bois in this book are blurred beyond belief. Even Pan doesn't share his real age. This kind of creates a problem when all the Lost Bois don't want to grow up and are treated like children, but they still engage in kink. The lines get blurred even further, when Wendi, who's supposed to act as their Mommy, starts getting sexual with Tootles, one of the bois she was supposed to watch after as if he were her child.
Not only is all the age blurring incredibly weird, but it's even implied by Tootles himself that he joined Pan and started participating in kink as a minor. So it isn't hard to assume that he would take in more minors, which begs the question of whether or not any of the other Lost Bois are minors. There's no way anyone can really know for sure, but it's a bit unsettling to think about.
4. Getting into the more technical aspects of how the story is told, the perspective of the story is incredibly limiting, and in my opinion, doesn't do the story any favors. It's told in Second Person, from the perspective of Right Hand Boi, Tootles. Not only is the style very limiting, as there's only so much Tootles can see, but I can tell he's never heard of the rule "show don't tell." Because oh my god is there a lot of telling.
He often narrates in retrospect, so sometimes he'll say things like. "I didn't know it at the time, but I talked to this person and they said that this meant this," or something to that effect. Because we're in Tootles' head, we don't really get to see what's going on with the other characters, so it's hard to really convey the emotions that they're feeling. Having this limited perspective doesn't benefit the story at all.
5. Wendi deserves an entire section dedicated to her, because her motivations made absolutely no sense. She has a perfect life going for her. She's about to leave her foster home and attend University. Her foster parents do everything they can to provide for her and her roommate John Michael. She's a pretty good storyteller and poet, who regularly performs at poetry slams. And she chooses to throw all of it away, and for what? Because Pan is good-looking? Because he's attractive? Because he charmed her? No, sorry, those excuses aren't good enough. It doesn't exactly look good for a girl to throw away everything she's ever dreamed of just to run away with some guy. (And no, calling her a grrrl doesn't make this trope any less misogynistic.)
And it isn't even just that. To think that she'd lead John Michael, someone who she considers a younger sibling, away from her home for no reason just goes to show how much of a good "big sister" she really is. She truly just doesn't think for herself at all. She settles into her new role and does everything she's supposed to as a Mommy to these bois, but as I said before, she starts getting sexual with at least Tootles, which makes their dynamic really weird. She also has a thing for Pan. I'm pretty sure everyone in this book is polyamorous, so cheating isn't exactly an issue, but I just find it really weird that she's feeling sexual attraction to someone she's supposed to take care of and look at as a child.
And then later in the book, she's fucking surprised to find that leaving her perfect life was actually a bad idea? What? "Whoopsie! I shouldn't have fucking done that! I'm stupid." And she damn sure is. Towards the end of the book when she it starts sowing seeds of dissent between the bois and Pan. If it had turned out that Wendi was a secret villain whose plan this entire time was to tear Pan and the Lost Bois apart, her motivations for why she did the things that she did would have made a whole lot more sense and she would seem a lot less stupid. The story would have also been a lot more interesting. (Of course, she would still need a motivation for why she would decide to do that in the first place, but this is hypothetical.)
6. Kink and BDSM are heavily present in this book, and as someone who knows a lot about the subject, thanks to a hyperfixation from my aforementioned ADHD, what Pan practices with his bois can't technically be considered BDSM and it wouldn't be considered as such by most practitioners. If this we're just a story about a leader and his crew practicing rituals that are kink-adjacent, that would be one thing, but they actively look down on the Leather Pirates, who practice actual BDSM, complete with safewords, traditional protocol, and the like.
They treat the Pirate's BDSM as a lesser, more stuffy, and boring version of what they do, which I think is kinda harmful, because Pan doesn't practice the usual safety measures, safewords, or aftercare, so to actively look down on BDSM as a whole (since Pan doesn't technically practice it anyway) doesn't exactly send a good message. This is why I find Hook to be the best character, since he actually cares about proper BDSM.
6. Hoh boy, here we go. This was the part where I first really noticed the problems in this book. And that problem comes in the form of John fucking Michael. About halfway through the book, Tootles tells the reader about what John Michael had been up to lately, and I'll be honest, up until that point, I had completely forgotten about her entire existence. But just then, it occurred to me why I forgot about her existence, and the reason for it basically infuriated me for the rest of the book.
John Michael doesn't have a single speaking line in this entire book.
And now you might be asking, is it because she's nonverbal? Deaf? Hard of Hearing? No, because a character who's any of these things should still be able to communicate and contribute something to the story. There's sign language, writing, Augmentative and Alternative Communication (AAC), and other methods I'm sure that exist for a character to communicate their thoughts and feelings. John Michael being any of these things shouldn't be a reason for a lack of communication.
But here's the thing. She isn't any of those things. Her actions are usually relayed through Tootles, but not once does he provide a line of dialogue from her. He'll often say things like "she whispered" or "Wendi and John Michael were talking" things along those lines, but no line of dialogue is provided and it baffles me that no one noticed this! No wonder I wasn't connecting to her as much, because she didn't fucking say anything! We're being told her actions and words, but not shown them! It's telling not showing! And why just this one character!?
Oh, and speaking of action, she also doesn't do anything either! She doesn't affect or move the story along in any way! She's just there! Tootles talks about how she sort of started a romance with one of the Pirates, but of course, it's never delved into in any way, so it doesn't actually matter at all. One of the best pieces of advice I've ever heard on how to spot a passive character is that if you can replace a character with a lamp and the story stays exactly the same, the character is passive. She might as well be a fucking lamp with how much the story forgets about her and how little she actually contributes to it!
It's actually such a shame too, because it would have been so easy to give her an actual personality! She could have been used to counter Wendi's desire to go home, since she herself didn't want to, and there could have been actual conflict derived from it! It was right there! All you had to do was go for it! She also apparently likes BDSM, which again, she is looked down on for. And as I said before, if someone or something doesn't contribute to the story, you either give them something to do, or get them the fuck out of there. The only thing I actually like about John Michael is that she uses a traditionally masculine name and traditionally feminine pronouns, and that kind of gender fuckery is something that needs to be represented more.
7. So it's very obvious that Tootles is a trans boy/boi. This isn't stated outright, but it can be inferred from context clues, such as him packing and wearing a binder. (Also this book shows him binding with Ace bandages, which is actually really fucking dangerous, and this book shouldn't casually represent that.) This is all fine and good, and I understand that gender is supposed to be blurred in Neverland, but that kind of creates a bit of a problem in regards to Pan. Earlier, I said that Pan was a guy. Well, that might not be entirely true.
Near the beginning, it specifically states that Wendi is a lesbian. So why would a lesbian run off with a guy she was attracted to? I think I've figured out the answer. It's because Pan is a he/him butch woman. There are a couple of lines in the book that give this away, and it definitely explains why Wendi decided to run away with him, but here's the thing. How was I even supposed to know that? It's not like it's ever explained in detail, so what is stopping me from assuming that Pan is a guy? Absolutely nothing except a couple of lines. Why call Wendi a lesbian if it's just going to be contradicted. Because it gets contradicted again. I'm aware that her sexual attraction to Tootles contradicts her lesbianism, so I really don't know what to say anymore. I just hope it wasn't because he was AFAB.
And another thing, the lack of clear distinct genders for the Lost Bois means that the only true trans representation in this entire book is Tootles, which is fine, I guess. This is still a trans story, since it's a trans-led book, but there aren't really as many trans characters in this story as one might be led to believe, at least not ones that are known.
8. This is probably the last major thing I'll talk about. At first, I didn't want to talk about Pan because I genuinely thought he was above criticism. Any attempt to do so might be met with "He just does what he wants! He lives on the edge! He doesn't follow any rules!" so I initially thought it was pointless. But there's a distinct difference between Pan and Peter Pan of yore. Peter Pan was young, magical, and he could afford to not grow up, because it was in his power to do so. Pan is just someone who lives in a warehouse and never remembers the people who left him alone to play in his depressing fantasy world.
He also doesn't really care that much about any of his Lost Bois, since he doesn't even provide them with the basic things they need during or after a battle/scene (Which by the way is considered abuse, even in the BDSM community.) He's just sad and alone, and frankly, he deserves it. In the end
Conclusion:
If you want to read a book about trans and genderqueer homeless teens that takes place in a bit of a grungier world involving things like drug use, Brooklyn, Burning by Steve Brezenoff does a much better job at this. It's a masterpiece compared to Lost Boi. The protagonist and love interest are both gender and pronoun unspecified, and the protagonist's dad is confused as to their gender and orientation. A much better read than this one, trust me.
So in conclusion, I didn't like this book very much. It had a few good elements, but parts of it were too infuriating and lackluster to even give it three stars. I've never been the biggest fan of Peter Pan, and this book definitely isn't doing him any favors. -
4.5 stars. I really loved this book and my only complaint is the editing. That's it. I might eventually relent and give this one 5 stars.
I am pretty sure it's impossible to give any spoilers for this book since it's basically an extremely clever retelling of the Peter Pan story through the world of queer/transgender leather scenes. It makes sense why Jack Halberstam blurbed the book, you know? This kind of reading gives me hope for the world of queer literature, which often seems really... well... melodramatic. This book packs an emotional punch--more powerful than J. M. Barrie's original story ever did. I know plenty of transmasculine bois who refuse to grow up and charm people into their "packs" or "families."
So thank you Sasssafras Lowery. This book was an absolute treat. -
The book synopsis called it a retelling of the Peter Pan story so I didn't know what to expect. In an urban Neverland Pan protects his group of bois from whom he demands total loyalty. All seems to be okay until he takes Wendi & John Michael into his group, and everything is changed. Tootles' narration shows the changes as they take place, slowly at first and then cascading. Captain Hook and the Mermaids are present, but the biggest danger in the Crocodile. The book may not be for everyone, but I enjoyed it for its no holds barred remake of a classic.
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not necessarily valid, just something you could write or publish
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Genderqueer element aside, I didn't expect to enjoy this. Fairy tale retellings often fall flat for me; I wasn't sure I could get invested in the plight of homeless bois; and I didn't see how the d/s element could fit in without being exploitative. Much to my delight, it all works, and does so both smartly and erotically. Thhere are a lot of characters introduced at once, but I fell in love with all of them (including the mermaids), and I loved the tension between Hook and Wendi. This is how you remain true to the idea of a classic, but completely reinvent it and make it relevant for not just a new age, but a new community.
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I remember reading social media updates from Sassafras Lowrey while ze was writing this novel, updates that spoke in excited tones about the characters and the way the story was unfolding. Now I know why.
Lost Boi is a retelling of Peter Pan, yes. A brilliant, imaginative, ambitious retelling that replaces pirates with Leather men and mermaids with Femmes. There is magic and kink and fairy dust and flying and through it all there is Pan, the charismatic enigma who pulls everything together.
This book is a must read for anyone who cherishes creativity and good writing. It's also a sure bet for those of us hungry for gender nonconforming characters with depth and complexity. -
i really enjoyed this; it's a retelling of a tale i like (peter pan, obviously), and an exciting, kinky, wondrous one at that. i'm just not sure about the use of 'boi'. it's used consistently all through the novel, and i've read up on it and know that this word has been used by various lgbt identities for years, but it's also aave and it seems appropriative to me that a white author uses it. the characters about whom it's used are never identified as a specific race, nor described as having any particular skin colour, but... i wanted to mention it because i would have given this five stars if i hadn't been skeptical about this.
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Inventive retelling of the Peter Pan story about homeless LGBT youth with more than a dash of BDSM. Worlds I'm unfamiliar with, so figuring out and trying to understand them were good in terms of expanding paradigms and exploring other perspectives. The author kept my interest in seeing the ways the original story were adapted for this retelling, but apart from that the narrative and characters were a bit flat for me.
I appreciated the book more on an intellectual basis than a "must-devour-this-story" basis. -
If I had read this when I was a teenager, I would have fallen in love with it. I think I'm too grown up now, and I just kept thinking about runaway kids doing heroin and living in squalor. I was never one of those kids, but I knew them. I went to some of their parties.
The queering of the story was troubling to me, mostly because I was reluctant to give up my deep and probably slightly disturbed crush on Barrie's problematic story. Once I adjusted to the new frame, though, I enjoyed the story quite a lot - enough to cry at the end.
This is definitely worth a read. -
2.5
I really wanted to like this book, but I couldn't. The idea of the retelling of the Peter Pan story is original, but the end result here is a dark mess. IMO also the D/s dynamic didn't fit in the story.
In my opinion a more successful LGBT take of Peter Pan's story is
Peter Darling.
Disclaimer: I'm a white cis woman.