Jamie is a graduate student in 18th-century literature at a small college in New England, trying to balance the demands of writing her dissertation, teaching, dealing with transphobia, and maintaining her relationship with her spouse, Ro (who is nonbinary). Jamie, a trans woman, is also hiding a secret—she’s a witch.
Teaching her mother Serena about magic, Jamie thinks, will help Serena move forward from the depression she’s been in ever since the death of her wife, Jamie’s other mom, Mae. But Jamie didn’t predict the dangerous direction that Serena will take her newfound skill and the impact it will have on both their lives. Jamie realizes she needs to better understand the nature of magic, but the key seems hidden in a novel from 1749. Can Jamie unlock its secrets in time to save them?
The book moves between past and present, also showing us parts of Jamie’s childhood and of Serena and Mae’s early relationship, so that we see both the continuity and the change of queer families across generations, their pains as well as their joys and tools for survival.
Award-winning author Charlie Jane Anders clearly knows the history of queer families in the 90s, with accurate references to political events, children’s books, and the understanding that Jamie would be “culturally queer” [a term coined by Stefan Lynch, the first executive director of COLAGE] no matter her identity. And as someone who has long tracked the tiresome trope of “wacky antics in search of sperm” in fictional LGBTQ family storylines, I was delighted that the only reference to Serena and Mae’s donor is the parenthetical, “(Doesn’t matter who the sperm donor was; they’re not part of the story.)” That’s not to diss those whose donors are part of their story; just the idea that they have to be or that this is always our focus.
Anders weaves in fascinating and authentic information about 18th-century women writers and the transmasculine actor Charlotte Charke, along with a fictional 18th-century novel that serves as a play within a play. There’s a fun literary mystery here that also illuminates other themes of the book, including healing from trauma, reconnecting with those we love, and figuring out what we want and how to ask for it.
The book offers much food for thought, too, not only about how parent-child relationships change (or don’t) as children become adults, but about spouse/partner relationships, community responsibility, and creating change in ourselves and the world. As always, Anders’s writing is masterful: simultaneously erudite, hilarious, and revelatory, creating a story that is entertaining, thought-provoking, healing, queer as heck, and very highly recommended.
Content warning: Because the inclusion of magic and witches might make people assume otherwise, I want to be clear that this is a book intended for adults, not young people. There are intimate scenes, some of which include BDSM—very consensual and fairly light on the scale of things, but still for grown readers.
Jamie, her moms, and Ro are White.
