Ratings5
Average rating3.8
Un très joli roman d'anticipation, où un étrange syndrôme mortel frappe les habitants noirs de Detroit. C'est l'occasion pour l'autrice de nous parler de deuil, d'inégalités raciales, de gentrification, et de dédadence du capitalisme. Le style est fluide et poétique, on se laisse emporter par une plume qui accompagne parfaitement un récit qui oscille entre tragédie, pessismisme et optimisme.
It took me way longer to read this than it should have because once again, I inadvertently started a pandemic book in a pandemic. It was beautifully written but hard to read.
There is not enough love going on out there for this book, let me put some out there.
I picked this up on a whim while browsing another library's new book shelf. I borrowed it because I loved the way the book felt in my hand. I kid you not.
That night, I was hooked and could not put it down.
Dune's world is this (and I'm going to stay very spoiler-free): she lives in Detroit with her mother and grandmother. One day, while talking and washing dishes at the sink her mother just goes quiet. Turns out, it's an epidemic called H-8. It's leaving its victims in a coma-like state. It starts rampaging across the city.
Dune is left trying to survive. She has to keep herself and Mama Vivian alive.
That's all I'm going to say, except that I already ordered book 2.
Quote: “To come into this house, an item needed a story.” pg 35
“Purpose yielded bravery, or at least reframed survival.”pg 159