In a United States not so unlike our own, the Department of Balance has adopted a radical new form of law enforcement: rather than incarceration, wrongdoers are given a second (and sometimes, third, fourth, and fifth) shadow as a reminder of their crime—and a warning to those they encounter. Within the Department, corruption and prejudice run rampant, giving rise to an underclass of so-called Shadesters who are disenfranchised, publicly shamed, and deprived of civil rights protections.
Kris is a Shadester and a new mother to a baby born with a second shadow of her own. Grieving the loss of her wife and thoroughly unprepared for the reality of raising a child alone, Kris teeters on the edge of collapse, fumbling in a daze of alcohol, shame, and self-loathing. Yet as the kid grows, Kris finds her footing, raising a child whose irrepressible spark cannot be dampened by the harsh …
In a United States not so unlike our own, the Department of Balance has adopted a radical new form of law enforcement: rather than incarceration, wrongdoers are given a second (and sometimes, third, fourth, and fifth) shadow as a reminder of their crime—and a warning to those they encounter. Within the Department, corruption and prejudice run rampant, giving rise to an underclass of so-called Shadesters who are disenfranchised, publicly shamed, and deprived of civil rights protections.
Kris is a Shadester and a new mother to a baby born with a second shadow of her own. Grieving the loss of her wife and thoroughly unprepared for the reality of raising a child alone, Kris teeters on the edge of collapse, fumbling in a daze of alcohol, shame, and self-loathing. Yet as the kid grows, Kris finds her footing, raising a child whose irrepressible spark cannot be dampened by the harsh realities of the world.
With a first-person register reminiscent of the fierce self-disclosure of Sheila Heti and the poetic precision of Ocean Vuong, I Keep My Exoskeletons to Myself is a bold debut novel that examines the long shadow of grief, the hard work of parenting, and the power of queer resistance.
The start of this book felt really choppy and odd, but the more I read, the more I warmed to the style and voice. My biggest complaint was that the "kid" didn't feel realistic to her age, and that was a constant distraction as she's pretty much the crux of the story. The premise of extra shadows as a social controller was really interesting, and I almost wish there'd been more examination of this, but that's not the story Crane was telling. This is a difficult book at times because of the persecution and grief (as advertised), and I found the narrator to be a bit annoying, but I loved the queer rep in this, and came away satisfied by the end.
The start of this book felt really choppy and odd, but the more I read, the more I warmed to the style and voice. My biggest complaint was that the "kid" didn't feel realistic to her age, and that was a constant distraction as she's pretty much the crux of the story. The premise of extra shadows as a social controller was really interesting, and I almost wish there'd been more examination of this, but that's not the story Crane was telling. This is a difficult book at times because of the persecution and grief (as advertised), and I found the narrator to be a bit annoying, but I loved the queer rep in this, and came away satisfied by the end.