| Title | : | My Government Means to Kill Me |
| Author | : | |
| Rating | : | |
| ISBN | : | 1250833523 |
| ISBN-10 | : | 9781250833525 |
| Language | : | English |
| Format Type | : | Hardcover |
| Number of Pages | : | 276 |
| Publication | : | First published August 23, 2022 |
| Awards | : | Lambda Literary Award Gay Fiction (2023) |
Born into a wealthy Black Indianapolis family, Earl “Trey” Singleton III leaves his overbearing parents and their expectations behind by running away to New York City with only a few dollars in his pocket. In the city, Trey meets up with a cast of characters that changes his life forever. He volunteers at a renegade home hospice for AIDS patients, and after being put to the test by gay rights activists, becomes a member of the AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power (ACT UP). Along the way Trey attempts to navigate past traumas and searches for ways to maintain familial relationships—all while seeking the meaning of life amid so much death.
Vibrant, humorous, and fraught with entanglements, Rasheed Newson’s My Government Means to Kill Me is an exhilarating, fast-paced coming-of-age story that lends itself to a larger discussion about what it means for a young gay Black man in the mid-1980s to come to terms with his role in the midst of a political and social reckoning.
My Government Means to Kill Me Reviews
-
welcome to 202-Queer 🌈✨, the year where i only read queer books and finally have fun 🌈✨ and sometimes find the greatest book ever written
if you only read one queer book this year, make it this one. hell, if your goodreads challenge is to only read one book in 2023 (stupid, why would anyone do that) make it this one.
this book reads so much like a memoir that i had to check the book page several times to make sure i was actually reading fiction.
the book follows a young gay black man in 1980's New York. and it not only deals with the AIDS epidemic of that time but also what it meant to be queer and black during a time of political and social reckoning.
it's such a powerful history lesson i didn't know i needed but boy did i.
the book doesn't shy away from anything. it is crass, it is honest and it will leave you speechless at times.
i fell in love with the book from the first second (i definitely recommend the audiobook - the narrator is fantastic) and i haven't been this engaged with a story in a long time. i listened to it from start to finish in one sitting.i even carried my laptop to the bathroom with me cause i didn't want to pause for even one second.
it is not only a powerful story but it also a beautifully written one.
bottom line: read it. and not just someday. now. -
(This is a highly imperfect review, but I'm going with it because this book deserves every bit of attention it can get—and I'm tired of writing and erasing, writing and erasing while trying to find *the* right way to talk about it.)
Rasheed Newson's My Government Means to Kill Me is one of those absolutely essential novel that one doesn't realize is needed until one has read it. It's the fictional memoir of Trey Newson, a young, Black gay man who's moved from Indianapolis to New York City in the early 1980s at the start of the AIDS epidemic. Trey is naive, but observant, and realizes that, as the title states, his government does mean to kill him. He sees the lack of response to the AIDS epidemic and the disproportionate impact it's having on the Black community. He establishes an unlikely friendship with Bayard Rustin who acts as a sort of Socratic mentor, questioning Trey to help him explore his own experiences and values. He volunteers for gay Men's Health Crisis and takes part in the creation of ACT-UP. Trey's story makes for an engaging, frustrating, infuriating, and hopeful story of those years.
What I find particularly remarkable about this book is its use of footnotes. Yes, footnotes. Newson isn't just writing for those who lived through the AIDS epidemic and who will understand his references to real-life events and peoples. He's also writing for the "Treys" of today—young queer folk who we born two decades later than the time in which the novel is set.
In the 1980s, I was doing a good deal of outreach to teachers, urging them to embrace the fact that—whether or not they knew who was who—they had queer kids in their classes, and kids with queer parents, and that they had a particular responsibility to this student population. One of the points I kept emphasizing in my work was that growing up queer presents specific challenges. And one challenge I emphasized was that queer kids are members of a culture that involves far more than sexual or affectional identity. Being queer meant being part of a community—a community with its own cultural icons, its own history, its own popular culture, its own holidays, its own faith institutions. Yet, because of homophobia, along with the fact that most queer kids are raised within straight families, the kids had very little knowledge of that culture. And because it was a culture they were born into, but not *raised* in, they generally weren't able to draw on it as a source of strength and pride.
The queer community is much more visible now, but it's still not uncommon for a queer kid to feel as if they may be the only one, that there's no place where who they are is normal, where they can find others like themselves. And things were so much worse in the 80s.
What I love about this novel above all else is the footnotes. Yep, footnotes. Newson's writing is full of references to historical events, political movements, and real-world individuals, and he uses footnotes to explain in a clear and accessible way what and who those events, movements, and people are. If you were a queer adult during the 80s, you may not need all this supplemental information. But if you're straight or if you weren't yet born in the 80s, My Government Means to Kill Me makes those years accessible. It gives readers an entree into queer culture at a time of particular challenge and of powerful resistance. And we could definitely use that sort of resistance in meeting the challenges of our current challenges.
If you're able, you should be buying copies of My Government Means to Kill Me for every young adult in your life (queer or not) and for every public library around you. You should be leaving copies of it in those little free libraries people have on their front lawns. You should be giving copies to parents, to aunts, to uncles, to grandparents. We need this history. We need it now.
I received a free electronic review copy of this title from the publisher via NetGalley; the opinions are my own. -
I am left speechless.
-
This is the kind of book that should be hyped up. It is phenomenally written, and although it is fiction, it is written like a memoir and a particular hard-hitting one at that. It baffles me that this is the author's debut novel, but it gives me a lot of hope for the future of the publishing industry.
This is an incredibly important story at the center of Black Queer identity during the AIDS epidemic. Through the narrative, our main character, Trey, takes the readers along, navigating queer spaces (especially Black Queer spaces), in a context where the government made no effort to contain the ravaging consequences of HIV in the community. This book is heavy with historical references (a lot of footnotes), and I am grateful for the knowledge I got out of this book.
(recommendation taken from jonathan, thank you!) -
Audiobook….narrated by Jelani Alladin (phenomenal reader!)
Historical, political, personal….and powerful!!!
….a fiction novel that reads like a memoir.
People were dying on the streets with AIDS during the 80s.
It was especially a very challenging time for the queer culture.
Trey Singleton was a young Black gay man living in NYC — estranged from his wealthy Indianapolis family —during the ‘80’s. He tells a very raw - gripping coming-of-age-story…(I thought the estrangement was very sad including the ending part: personal aspects of Trey’s relationship with his parents)
The historical footnotes throughout differentiate between fiction and facts.
Content includes:
….sexual encounters, (explicit sex), bath houses, racism, privileged, trouble with the law, homelessness, misogyny, blackness, queerness, the HIV/AIDS crisis, activism, civil rights movement, housing and rent strikes, big band music, theater, art, hospice, complaints and violations…..
…..with real life characters: Trump, Dorothy Cotton - etc.
Funny stories — JUICY, SEXY, MISCHIEVOUS, CHARMING…
sinners…
hairy nipples…
piercings on a man’s scrotum
priests…
boyfriends…
sugar daddy’s…
dumb romance…
and…
a talent for keeping ones inter-smart ass in tact!!
Black Pride!
Tough-ass-beautiful people, young studs swapping sex stories, smoking weed, dressed fashionably, (khaki pants), thin tapered waists, eating peanut butter out of a jar with a stick knife,
reading the Rolling Stones…
Sadness under the surface …
Memories from Mom…(her wisdom intertwined with Trey’s inner voice):
“Don’t start nothin, won’t be nothin”— mama always said-
And….
the battle Trey was having living his life the way he wanted vs. the frustrating loss he felt with his parents —
So…..while the storytelling is funny, juicy, deeply understandable —engaging —free spirited and raw…..
I felt the ‘heart-wrenching’
estrangement and abandonment very sad too.
Terrific Audiobook!!!! -
Narration: 5 Stars
Story: 5 Stars
The point is to let your bruised and bloodied bodies serve as evidence that the government means to kill you, if you so much as protest its bigoted policies.
This, right here, is a powerhouse debut - hilarious, heartbreaking, poignant, sexy, and thought-provoking, this is easily my favorite book of the year thus far!
I loved the way this story was told - it's divided up into different lessons, rather than chapters, lessons like "a sanctuary can be a sordid place" & "victory can be a thorny crown", & is presented in an autobiographical way from the perspective of Trey, a young, gay Black man in NYC in the 1980's. It was fascinating seeing how Newson wove real life queer & non-queer historical figures & events throughout - I can't stress enough how much I enjoyed the footnotes, which provided a little more context into specific moments within the story (the physical book is a must). Newson's writing was phenomenal, I'm surprised at just how much he was able to pack in a book that's just under 300 pgs. Amongst other important topics this covered activism, Blackness, the HIV/AIDS crisis, misogyny, queerness, privilege, & racism - not only are you given an amazing story, you're provided with an opportunity to learn more about people & events often shadowed throughout history. & I can't finish this review off without giving a huge standing ovation for our audiobook narrator, Jelani Alladin - what a performance, he really made these characters & this story come to life!
I highly recommend grabbing both a physical & audio copy upon release next week, trust me when I say this is story you don't want to miss! & thank you so much Rasheed Newson, NetGalley & Macmillan Audio for providing an ALC, & Flatiron Books for providing an ARC, in exchange for a honest review! -
❀
blog ❀
thestorygraph ❀
letterboxd ❀
tumblr ❀
ko-fi ❀
3 ½ stars“Devils grow old, and the world around them eventually exceeds their understanding and control. Never forget that. Never let them forget it.”
What could have been a powerful and propulsive queer coming-of-age is bogged down by a narrative that is heavy on exposition, footnotes (related to real-life figures, places, and organizations), and a storyline that pacing and plotline wise perhaps would work better on the screen than in a novel. Even so, Rasheed Newson’s My Government Means to Kill Me has a lot going for it: it’s informative, it has some great dialogues, it boasts a strongly rendered sense of place and time, it demonstrates the author’s understanding and insight into many social issues that feel all too relevant to the present day, and it challenges simplistic visions of what activism is and what it can achieve.“My cause was born of a lie, but a lie can be the spark that leads to virtue.”
Set in 1980s New York, the opening chapters are probably the most immersive ones as we follow Trey, a young gay Black man (boy really given that he is not even in his 20s), who attempts to make a fresh start in the city. Trey wants to break free from his family, their wealth, their expectations, and their disappointment, to escape from small-town mentalities, and to leave his past behind. He is taken under the wing of Gregory, who has several ‘daddies’, and likes to tease Trey, even if it is clear that he sees him as a younger brother. Their different backgrounds do create tension between them as Gregory, unlike Trey, doesn’t have a wealthy family to fall back onto. The two spend a lot of their time at Mt. Morris Baths, a gay bathhouse, which remained operating during the AIDS epidemic.“See, even during a pandemic, racism never fails to insert itself into the equation.”
There Trey experiments with sex and relationships, and the exhilarating freedom of it all often leads him to view AIDS as a mere gray cloud in the sky. But, eventually, Trey meets Bayard Rustin (who was a leader in many social movements), someone he admires, and who instils in Trey a sense of duty towards their community. Although Trey’s initial motivations to confront the owner of his building, Fred Trump, are more selfish than selfless, this experience makes him realize the change he is capable of enacting.
Trey eventually begins to volunteer at a home hospice for AIDS patients, and witnessing the death of so many men, awakens him even more. As he tries to navigate the shifting loyalties and intricacies of the people operating the hospice, he eventually joins ACT UP, the AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power. We see the gruelling tests aspiring members are subjugated to, we see internecine fighting within this group, and how the interplay of race, gender, and class affects and divides marginalized communities. Older activists challenge Trey’s understanding of activism, its aim, priorities, inner workings, and limitations, of the civil rights movement, and of the realities and dangers of protesting. Trey becomes close to Angie, a seemingly hard-nosed butch lesbian, and he finds himself rethinking the ways he has tended not to really see women.
But it is Rustin in particular who pushes Trey into rethinking his simplistic and occasionally righteous judgment of key figures connected to the civil rights movements.
Trey and his experiences did often strike me as vehicles through which the author could discuss, delineate, and pontificate, on real-life figures, movements, and historical events. He often adopts a didactic tone and Trey’s overview of these people/places/events took me out of the story a little bit. There were sections of writing that could have easily belonged to an op-ed or a work of nonfiction. Which is a pity as they undermined those more intimate and immediate scenes. Trey’s backstory is also…predictable and rushed. Last night I watched Earthquake Girl, which was so inane it made me mad, which employed a similar device. Rather than giving its main character a personality, the story decides to throw at her some childhood trauma that explains her lack of personality. I am so tired of these stories that rather than putting an effort into fleshing out a character, by giving them recognizable personality traits, or by allowing them to be realistically idiosyncratic, they just throw in some trauma. Because that’s what makes people interesting, special, not like other people. And in Trey’s case, it felt like that. Additionally, it didn’t help that the chapters are structured in a way that in each one Trey ‘learns’ a lesson, initially about life in NY, sex, and friendships, and later through his experiences as a volunteer and as a member of ACT UP.“Winning rarely changes how people perceive us and almost never soothes our insecurities. Winning, as most of us conceive it, is external and public. I didn’t yet know that the most rewarding activities of my life would be those done in secret.”
Trey’s friendship with Gregory, which is by no means smooth, was one of the strengths of the novel, as a lot of the other characters tend to be literally or inspired by real-life people.
The ending was rushed, and I was disappointed by how certain important events aren’t given a lot of page-time/weight.
I would have liked more balance between facts and fiction, and for Trey’s character, his backstory, his personality, and so on, to be brought more into focus because as is he just struck me as a vehicle through which the author can discuss an array of subjects matter, which is a pity as there were moments were his voice did strike a chord.
I will admit that usually, I tend to click more with books that are character studies than 'period' studies. Nevertheless, My Government Means to Kill Me was in many ways eye-opening and its documentary-like style did add to the reading experience. The dialogues, the sense of place and time, the challenging issues Newson explores and portrays, these definitely made My Government Means to Kill Me worth reading. The premise, that of a gay young man leaving his past behind, be it a troubled or an unremarkable one, and attempting to make a go of things in a city, brought to mind A Beautiful Crime and Bath Haus so if you happen to be a fan of those you should definitely check out Newson's novel.“New York City. No one I knew had anything good to say about the place. It was crime ridden and drug addled. It was the epicenter of moral decay. I set my heart on living there, and for a while, doing so felt like enough.”
-
Have I read a book like this before? I'm not quite sure if I'm being honest.
Obviously I've picked up historical fiction, I've read books centering queer characters, books featuring fictional characters interacting with or referencing real people. I've read a lot of books in my life, adn yet this one seems to defy explanation.
It's a narrative for sure, somehow a very narrow yet expansive look into the life of Trey, and one that I think will stick with me.
I can freely admit that I have a soft spot for a good footnote. There's something about that little extra nugget of information that I eat up when a book introduces them, and I thought it was extra playful how the footnotes and Trey's story occasionally played off one another as though some third party was interacting with the first person narration that the narrative is told in.
I don't think that this is a book for everyone. I think how you feel about the first few chapters of the book make it clear how the tone is going to be going forward and if you're going to be able to connect to the narrative in a way that will enrich your reading experience. In some ways the chapters felt episodic, and I don't know if that's just because I was aware of the fact that Newson has a history in making content for television that I projected that into the book or if it's a byproduct of the way I've been reading books lately in attempting to see how they could be adapted. This gives big miniseries energy. Lots of off colored flashbacks, I could see it working out.
It's potentially a book I'd get more out of if I read it again, or if I picked up a finished copy and not simply the earc I read for the purposes of crafting this review. And while I wouldn't urge everyone to pick up a copy I do think that if the premise sounds interesting to you that the narrative does a good job on delivering that in a way that I personally found satisfying and engaging to read. -
this book ..... hmm.
I won this in a goodreads giveaway and it was a highly anticipated read for me this month. but it really let me down.
easiest for me to describe my issues with this book in a list format bc I wrote them down in my notes app.
okay first what I liked:
- entertaining enough because so much is happening, there is constant conflict / drama / story happening so it does keep you engaged.
- queer history / facts are referenced heavily and I really appreciated that. I actually learned a lot of stuff that I had never heard of before and I think that's really special to talk about more of our history.
- that's it lmao
things I disliked *one spoiler but it's listed at the very end about lesbian portrayal*:
- the main characters voice is incredibly flat / you don't really ever get to know HIM you only know what he's doing and very very minor inner workings. the depth was really lacking for me.
- mix of fiction and non fiction was confusing and jumbled. it felt like it would've made more sense to have characters based off of real life players rather than to write a fictionalized version of true events including very real people but centered around a fictional character ? in such a pivotal era of queer history? it just honestly,,,kinda felt disrespectful almost since he was made out to be a hero / big player in this movement.
- there is TOOO much going on. the main character shows up in NYC and somehow becomes involved in every aspect of the queer scene? and becomes like a leader in some aspects while having no primary motivation, like he just walks into this shit and ends up in these situations and I just find it so flat and unbelievable. like everything kind of goes right for him, conflicts barely last any time at all like HUGE conflicts that could really make up a whole book's plot last for a chapter or two? idk man. maybe it would work as a TV show.
- the dialogue in every argument felt like it relied on exclamation points rather than actual dialogue/language. again just kinda flat to me.
- also if you have a scene where there's a public argument that happens and bystanders CLAP AND CHEER AND WHISTLE?? immediately no.
- the characters family dilemmas were talked about (when they were talked about) as if they were really central to plot or character and they just;,,did not feel that way at all honestly. things about his family are mentioned at times that don't make sense and repetitively, when it would make more sense and have a better impact later on / at specific points.
- THE WAY LESBIANS WERE (NOT) PORTRAYED !! there is one lesbian character that is actually present in this book and she runs a "hospice" for men with HIV/AIDS and literally *SPOILER*
she ends up being an angel of death?? even though there's no (based on anything I could find / the lack of footnotes regarding this storyline in the book) proof that anything like this occurred during the AIDS epidemic? like the author literally has so many references to fact throughout this whole book and then when it came to a lesbian made her an angel of death, when lesbians gave so much to this movement by being the primary caretakers? idk again it just felt kinda whack to me. -
To say I loved this novel would be an understatement. This is definitely a story I'll be thinking about for a long time. A lovable, yet flawed protagonist, a page-turner of a plot, memorable characters, and I learned some things along the way. There's heartbreak. There's laughter. Things get pretty graphic and dark at times, but there is also so much beauty. Did I tear up throughout, especially at the end? You betcha! An emotional rollercoaster that's well worth the ride, and handled with a deft hand. What an outstanding debut novel!
I know some have complained about the notes that accompany the main text, but I actually liked that format. For me, it didn't detract from the flow because I would've paused to google some of the people, places, and references anyway. I got this book from the library, but I think I'll buy a copy of my own. I already know this will be one I'll reread, and I love the focus on queer history. Add this one to your reading list, friends. It is historical fiction at its finest! -
I really enjoyed this book. It’s funny, sexy, and a total queer rights and civil rights history lesson. It’s very much a good time with some smart commentary and heavy hitting moments. It’s basically Forrest Gump but centering a queer Black man in 1986 NYC. My only complaint is some of it felt too on the nose as a teaching moment.
-
I was a very lucky recipient of an advance copy of Rasheed Newson's absolutely fantastic book "My Government Means to Kill Me: A Novel"
Trey's 1980's NYC black, queer, coming of age story is unflinching and candid and filled with a very well known cast of characters that incorporate very important history lessons into this fictionalized tale.
Newson's book made me proud that such courage exists in the LGBTQ community, and that it has existed for years, with it highlighting the strength and tenacity of activists in the early years of the AIDS epidemic. It has put me on a quest to read more about the real people walking through this novel.
Set to release on August 23rd, I'd really urge picking up a copy. I know I plan on getting several to give as gifts. Thank you @rasheed.newson.author for this book! Special thanks to @netgalley and @flatiron_books as well! -
A fascinating book- for so many reasons.
A young gay Black writer re-inserts himself into a history he missed- New York in the 1980's- and takes wily license with that history.
SPOILERS
The first half is absolutely wonderful.
Newson takes us back to a fantasy of low, low rents- characters are always arbitrarily leaving their apartments and getting another- even in Soho. And with that comes the fantasy of neighbors who work together against landlords and have sex with each other, the old-school NYC apartment living style.
But the real gift and treasure of this book is the author's imagining of what it would have been like to have access to a gay Black sexual community utopia, which he situates in a reimagined Mount Morris bathhouse- now half sex emporium, half neighborhood hang-out with sweet, kind and protective owners, sex buddies and even Bayard Rustin, sexual, appropropriate and filled with advice about the world, including stories about Jimmy Baldwin. Kind of a Black, gay, sexual Sesame Street. It is so fun to read and sparkly.
Where the book misses its own opportunity is the second half where the character joins ACT UP, and goes to work at an impromptu AIDS hospice.
One aspect of this re-imagining is very intriguing to me. He creates an ACT UP that has a lot more people of color than the original one did, as it was primarily a gay white male organization. But on the other hand, as I show in my book LET THE RECORD SHOW: A Political History of ACT UP, New York 1987-1993, a person could be in the Latino Caucus in ACT UP and experience a primarily Latino context, and this was also possible though more difficult, if a person of color in ACT UP stayed in a caucus or affinity group or working group that was primarily people of color. So Newsome simultaneously imagines and recreates.
However, when it comes to the larger ACT UP, Newsome sadly does not re-invent the past in a way that brings excitement, because despite altering a lot of facts, which is what we want after the great part one, he actually relies on old cliches that were never true and still are not true: Even in his version, Larry Kramer is still mis-represented as "the leader" of ACT UP, lesbians are primarily depicted as caretakers, when they were theoreticians and leaders, and lesbians are also represented as monsters, which is a theme in some of the most inaccurate histories --WHY? It would have been so great if he could have used his prodigious imagination to get rid of these lies once and for all by rebuilding, but instead he relies on them.
It just goes to show that even the most talented and imaginative young writers, like Newsome, simply cannot imagine or even re-imagine what that period was like, once we get to the mass death experience. And I know why. Perhaps readers who did not go through it would feel differently.
A couple of weird slips. He spells "fey" (effeminate) as "fay", has people in the 1980's saying "Latinx" and in a. very creative use of footnotes- that both informs the newbies while acknowledging how little is know about queer history, mistakenly says that the first AIDS case in the US was in the 1960's when it was the 1940's.
Even with the disappointment of the un re-imagining ACT UP stuff, I still really appreciated the idea and commitment of this novel, respect the project, and look forward to more work from this writer.
One more thought:
In a recent public conversation at Greenlight Books with Cary Alan Johnson about his new novel Desire Lines, we talked about how much contemporary and well-published Black gay male literature traces itself back to Baldwin (in this case via the wonderful reimagining of Bayard Rustin), but skips the generation of Black gay male writers who died of AIDS. And we postulated that this may be because writers like Essex Hemphill, Joe Beam, Melvin Dixon, filmmakers like Marlon Riggs etc are not taught in MFA programs. I kept hoping that those writers, plus the Other Countries guys (Donald Woods, Dave Frechette etc) would pop up somewhere, but they remained in a sense forgotten. There is a missing generation of reference (Assotto Saint) -
Only a couple chapters into 𝐌𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋 ME by Rasheed Newson, I had to go online to double check that the book is actually fiction. It reads SO MUCH like a memoir which is one of the things that made this book so special. Trey Singleton is 17, Black, and queer fleeing his wealthy Indianapolis family in order to find himself and his people in 1980’s NYC. Trey’s a charismatic guy and he finds many friends willing to help educate him, not only in living as a queer man, but also as a queer Black man. Obviously, Trey’s timing coincides with the HIV/AIDS epidemic, which ultimately becomes the heart of this story.
The very best part of 𝘔𝘺 𝘎𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘔𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘒𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘔𝘦 is that it’s chock full of real people and events and those are all thoroughly footnoted at the end of each chapter. It was a true history lesson! I loved finding out all kinds of details/intel that I hadn’t ever known or was misinformed about. Equally as impressive is the way Newson weaves his young protagonist’s coming-of-age story in with the lives of real life legends of race, sexuality, and HIV/AIDS activism. The story is raw and gritty. It definitely won't be for every reader, but for anyone who was drawn to 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘗𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘖𝘯 and wants to learn more about the role the Black LGBTQ+ community played during that era, this is a book you need to read. ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Thanks to @flatironbooks for an ARC of #MyGovernmentMeansToKillMe. -
A wonderful and insightful look into the 1980s New York City scene. Heavy on all things aids/hiv, activism, and even family and societal acceptance over diversity in sexuality and race. But it’s balanced out with sex and mentorship and historical landmarks and music references.
A fast, good read. -
"Until Dorothy removed the scales from my eyes, I'd had one hundred ways of asking one thing: Why did I feel hunted in my homeland? Because my government means to kill me. Amen! Amen and glory hallelujah! At last, I could explain the force shaping my existence."
An explosive, electric tour of gay 1980s New York. We see it through the eyes of Trey Singleton, a young gay Black man who's run away from a family secret in Indiana and crash-landed in the city, whose energy, passion, and idealism are catching. Through Trey we are taken into sex-charged bathhouse "dark rooms" that feel almost mythical now, into home hospices filled with dying men, into the crowded apartments filled with enthusiastic young activists. All of these places and others are dripping with history, so much so that the book is heavily annotated with historical information about the people and places and cultural references Trey comes into contact with. I really feel like I learned a lot, and now I'm raring to learn more.
This book is also a call to action. Activism and volunteering are such important parts of Trey's life, reminding us of the work that has been done to get us our rights and our lives, and thus of the work left to do.
This book is sexy and energetic and political and historical and and and and. God. Just go pick it up yourself and see what I mean.
Plus, come on, the cover is gorgeous.
(ARC received through the bookstore where I work in exchange for honest reviews.) -
What an absolutely fascinating novel. Written in the form of a memoir, this bildungsroman tells the story of a young Black gay man, living in New York City at the start of the AIDS epidemic. This book feels exceptionally timely, and although some of the messaging is a little heavy-handed, it's overall a thoughtful, compelling exploration of community activism, love, and life in the 80s. Definitely worth a read.
-
There’s a lot I could say about this book but here are my 2 main takeaways:
1) how is this a novel?! I read the entire thing thinking it was a memoir, it felt that real and honest.
2) the footnotes were extremely helpful! I was also very grateful I had the background of And the Band Played On, as a lot of references and events coincided with each other.
5/5 and one of my top books this year.
Thanks to the author, publisher, and NetGalley for an Arc in exchange for an honest review. -
jesus.
-
The tone is energetic, fast-paced and "hold nothing back" brutally frank. The footnotes are illuminating bite-sized references to gay history. The political awakening of the MC, a young, gay, Black man, is the powerhouse of the story, simultaneously urging the plot forward and grounding it.
The triumph of the individual is through the strength he finds via the purpose his marginalized community gives him, lifting him above and beyond his own experiences, and assuring him that there is power and value in demanding full participation in society. Sometimes, we have to make our claim to our own worth, our inclusion. -
It’s impossible for me to assign a star rating to this book. So I will leave it unrated but do want to recommend it as an important look into 1980s NYC gay culture from the perspective of a young, gay Black man.
This book is fiction but reads like a memoir. Our narrator, Trey, recounts the events of his youth many years later and, while recounting those events, is able to offer the kind of perspective only achieved in hindsight.
At 18, Trey is young and dumb (as I’m sure we all were at that age), making a series of selfish decisions (as I’m sure we all did at that age) without understanding the long range consequences of those decisions (who among us at 18 were able to think years ahead rather than weeks or even hours?). And while Trey does learn and grow as the book wears on, he never fully matures. But he is only 19 when the book ends, and who among us fully matured by age 19?
I liked Trey well enough but his dumb decisions surely did grate as the book progressed. But perhaps to some extent this is intentional on the author’s part? I think it would undercut the effort to tell a coming of age story if Trey was written any differently. The events of this book are a moment in time and the end of the book rightly doesn’t signal the end of Trey’s story. Like I said, who among us finishes growing as a person at 19?
My mixed feelings about Trey aside, I think this book tells an important story, and tells that story from a perspective we don’t often see in media. Of particular interest to me was the portrayal of the AIDS crisis and the impact HIV/AIDS had on both the queer community generally and on individuals specifically. I am an older queer person who sometimes feels like the history of that time - including the fear and the devastation - is becoming lost. I was pleased to see the acknowledgement of that time here. And more pleased to see that the author showed us that an enduring hope existed alongside the epidemic.
A note on the audio: Jelani Alladin does a remarkable job! If you find audiobooks accessible, I highly recommend the audio for this one. -
I’ve been waiting months to finally get my hands on this book. I can positively say I didn’t put it down, nor want to put it down. Wonderfully written, gut wrenching, a must read!
-
After running away to New York to escape his rich family, Earl “Trey” Singleton III dives into life as a young gay Black man in the 1980s, exploring bathhouses; volunteering at an AIDS hospice; and becoming a founding member of ACT UP, all while crossing paths with notable political figures of the day as he comes of age.
This is an excellent book to read to get a Black historical perspective on gay culture in New York in the 1980s. I enjoyed learning about the historical events and subjects through the lens of a fictional memoir. As a reading experience, however, I struggled to remain engaged with the narrative voice of the protagonist. For someone so young and naïve to the ways of the city, Trey has an odd mix of hubris and disaffectedness, and I felt his voice was quite flat and distant. This is a coming of age novel, but it reads from a psychological distance, such that Trey seems as though he is already a master of everything he's learning, which I found quite jarring. -
Wow I loved this
This book was so wonderful. A portrayal of a city struggling under a publicly unacknowledged pandemic, this is such a moving tale of one man’s movements through NYC’s gay scene in the 1980’s and how he begins to engage with AIDS activism.
I loved the writing in this, I loved the footnotes and historical accuracy, but mostly I loved the characters. So much queer found family in this book, and a shocking plot twist toward the end. Highly recommend this one. -
It's been a while since I've read something so magnificent. I'm certainly glad I have And The Band Played On in my repertoire with how history rich this read is. Even without that hefty read under my belt, the footnotes are so helpful when it comes to grasping historical significance of names/places/events.
Though this is a heavy read loaded with death, illness, struggle, and much more, I will be buying this when it published and shoving it in everyone's face. I am absolutely shaken to my core. This is currently my favorite read of 2022.
Thank you thank you THANK YOU to NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for an honest review. -
Reads like a memoir!
A refreshing historical fiction that transported me to the times of those in the queer community living in America at the height of the HIV/AIDS epidemic.
Watching Trey evolve from caring only about himself to caring for others was heartwarming.
The ending snuck up on me and I hated for this journey to come to an end.
I look forward to more works from this author.
Thank you Flat Iron and NetGalley for this e-ARC. -
Of the many, many things I found impressive about My Government Means to Kill Me by Rasheed Newson I think I was most blown away by the author's ability to operate on multiple levels at once. At a simple glance the book is a coming of age story, of both Trey, our narrator and the country and city he inhabits. Sprinkled throughout with various footnotes explaining the backstories and histories of the real life characters (many of them prominent historical figures) and places Trey finds himself among I think in lesser hands this book would have come off way wayyy too much like a history lesson or even preachy but Newson avoids that by giving us a really gorgeous protagonist in Trey, who you can't help falling in love with and cheer for throughout the book. In a very unassuming way Trey finds himself suddenly caught up in what will inevitably one of the most important landmark times in LGBT history. In the eye of the hurricane that was the AIDS epidemic ravaging through New York City (and the country/world) in the late 80's. In sweeping the reader up in the emotional journey of Trey we are also witness to the unravelling of the city and the queer community. I loved seeing the city through Trey's eyes. I recognized so many aspects and experiences that I'd also shared as a young gay guy moving to the city at 19 (I laughed reading that even back then it really, at the end of the day, came down to just having enough in your pocket to make rent) abut also this book totally illuminated me to places and characters in the city that I had never heard about or knew nothing of. I've often had to come back and break the ingrained image in my mind that the historical gay rights movement in New York or the AIDS epidemic was predominantly populated by exclusively white, blond faces when that couldn't be further from the truth. I was FASCINATED to read about the Mount Morris baths in Harlem (i mean THAT could've been a whole book unto itself and I'd've happily read it) the experience and contributions from black and latinX folks in both ACT UP and the GMHC. But again, don't be put off by the historical aspect of this book, at it's core there is a very fun, juicy, tea filled story of this young man finding himself, looking for a sense of purpose and love in one of the few cities that opened that door to him in that time and I feel luckily to have witnessed Trey on his journey and will carry him with me for quite some time.
-
4.5/5
Rasheed Newson's debut novel, My Government Means to Kill Me, is such a phenomenal addition to the zeitgeist of queer fiction. Newson, so brilliantly, blends the fictional narrative of Trey Singleton's coming-of-age with some people, organizations, and events that are linked to the reality of 1980's New York: Bayard Rustin, James Baldwin, "The Black Doodler," Bill Buckley, Marvin Liebman, Larry Kramer, ACT UP, etc. (this is TRULY just to name a FEW).
The footnotes throughout this novel do a great job differentiating the fictional events from the reality of the situations. Newson DEFINITELY took some liberties with the incorporation of these real elements in his story, so I'm glad that he included the footnotes to cue the reader in on the liberties taken.
Overall, I think this is such a phenomenal coming-of-age story about Trey, a gay, black man that is estranged from his wealthy family and attempting to make it on his own in NYC; he meets many people along the way that aid in his journey to self-discovery and the importance of standing up for what he believes to be right. Trey's development throughout the novel is masterfully crafted by Newson; though I devoured this book in just a few days, I truly did not want to put this book down. It is less than 300 pages long, but there is SO MUCH within these pages! Even now, as I think back on elements of the book I enjoyed, there are scenes that I remember being a part of the story that make me wonder how Newson was able to fit it all in such a short book.
I would recommend this book to ANYONE, honestly! I've been asked by a few people, outside of the queer community, what queer books I would recommend for someone who would like to educate themselves more on the community as a whole, and this book has easily jumped into my top 5 of that category. Though this novel doesn't explore ALL aspects of the queer community, it does a fantastic job at discussing the specific nuances that queer people, and more importantly queer people of color, share (from the 1980's and FORWARD). This novel also, really beautifully, weaves in elements of truth and fact within its pages that allows for readers to anchor Trey's story in reality.
All that to say, if you haven't yet read this book, I HIGHLY encourage you to do so! It's beautiful, it's funny, it's terrifying, it's heartbreaking, it's educational, it's uplifting, and it's REAL!
SPOILER THOUGHTS: -
Narration was phenomenal- I loved Trey & I loved Gregory. So many characters to cherish.
Rich with history (and footnotes to back) this book is so, so good. Especially for a debut novel. One of my top favorites for sure. -
[4.5 stars] Like Dorothy stepping into Oz, we follow 17-year-old Earl “Trey” Singleton as he arrives on a life-changing adventure in New York City. While born into a well-heeled and respectable family, he needs to flee his oppressive parents and close-minded life in Indianapolis to live openly as a Black gay man. He quickly finds, however, that activism needs to be as important as his carnal pleasures.
From leading a rent strike to coming face-to-face with a bathhouse serial killer and becoming an early volunteer with ACT UP, Newson places Trey in real situations with real people - some with significant roles in the narrative, like Bayard Rustin and Larry Kramer. While many other reviewers have stated that it reads like a memoir, the happenings are far too convenient for that to be the case.
Still, this was a fresh take on New York City in the 1980s. It’s not the usual AIDS novel – one focused on either saviorism or hopelessness – it’s primarily a social justice novel showing what different minority groups had to do to survive in dirty and corrupt New York and the conservative United States.
Alternately thought provoking and entertaining, “Government” seems destined for the screen, which isn’t surprising since Newson is a television writer. This writing is more tell than describe, which usually bothers me, except the dialogue here is quick and the action is meaningful.
Some of this was aided by Jelani Alladin’s fantastic narration. He had a lot of fun with the material and infused personality into each character – both factual and fictional. You could tell he was having fun with Trey, his roommate and best friend, Gregory, and real-life people, such as Rustin and Fred Trump. He also navigated some blush-inducing scenes in the bathhouse with seductive flair that at times made this a little steamy.
However, I learned from other reviews that a physical copy may be the way to go. Newson packed the text with footnotes that provide historical context and that was missing during my listen. A few times I Googled characters or events for more background, and it would’ve been easier to know upfront what was an amalgamation versus genuine. This would be a great hybrid read/listen.
My only complaints are that it ends too abruptly (it really needs an epilogue after the explosive last chapter) and it lacked some emotional depth. Still, this is a riveting, graphic and unflinching view of the not-too-distant past that’s still tailored for the masses. Put it on your radar for Pride Month 2023 (if not sooner). It deserves a wide audience.
