19 Love Songs by David Levithan

“As I get older, I realize we don’t need the love songs that blind us with the cliches. We need the love songs that tell the truth, and convey it convincingly” (Levithan 2020, p. 123).

This was both a quick and satisfying read, full of cute stories in every genre, including some that were autobiographical, which I thought was neat. While some of them felt a little over-written and pretentious at times, I will admit that many of them really resonated with me, making me feel anxious or hopeful or sad. I’ve read a little bit of David Levithan’s work, and am generally a fan of his writing style, so it was fun to see him really play with language in this compilation of short stories, poems, and even comics! Much like my review for Say Her Name, I will attempt to keep this one short and sweet.

19 Love Songs is told, much like a mix tape, in 19 separate tracks, each one telling a different story in a unique way. In one story, a pink-haired boy and blue-haired boy navigate a budding relationship during a massive snowstorm. In another, two girls find love and hope at a massive protest. Some of the stories are David Levithan’s, discussing either his own love life or the love story of his parents. Some are weird, some are heart-breaking, and some are funny. All, however, weave together an intricate tapestry detailing the many ways in which we can love one another.

I absolutely cannot begin this review without talking about my favorite passage from the entire book, found in Track Ten’s “Snow Day.” I recently came to the realization that I am either demi-sexual or asexual, meaning I prefer emotional connection to physical connection. and have very little interest in sex. Unfortunately, this is in no way the norm, as most straight males my age will at some point expect or desire sex. Because of this, I’ve spent a lot of time feeling inadequate or broken in some way, and the following passage really hit me hard:

“When you have to fight for your identity and win your identity, there is always a part of you that thinks there has to be a trade-off, that by stepping away from the norm you have been prescribed, you risk stepping away from the normal happiness as well. You feel you will have to fight harder for someone to love you. You feel you will have to bear the risk of more loneliness in order to be who you need to be… Much more often than not, with that small shock of surprise, the fight will come loose, and the risk will fall aside like a broken cocoon, and you will find yourself completely un-alone, not only seen by someone else, but felt. This was part of what you were trying to get to, and now it is here” (Levithan 2020, p. 148).

I nearly burst into tears when I read this passage, because it begins by describing EXACTLY how I feel, and ends on the very hopeful note of finding someone who will love and heal your insecurities anyways. That is the form of love presented in this book, and even though there were times when it felt a little too cheesy or full of metaphors, I really appreciated it for that. There are some other great pieces in this book (such as the love letter to educators and librarians at the very end), but none hit me quite as hard as that single passage did. Ironically, “Snow Day” is one of the stories that felt like it was trying to hard to be profound, but I have to think that if it resonated with me, it probably resonated with an LGBT teenager somewhere as well, and I certainly can’t fault it for that.

Despite the fact that I enjoyed many of these “tracks,” I do wish that Levithan had written a note at the beginning or end of each one. As I read, it was often hard to tell which were fiction and which were meant to be autobiographical, and I sometimes didn’t know for sure until the very end of the piece. This might’ve been intentional (perhaps Levithan wanted us to focus on the stories themselves instead of the reality behind them), but it was jarring to me. I didn’t know a lot about Levithan’s life going into this, and I love learning more about the authors I choose to read. Because of this, I quite enjoyed getting a small glimpse into Levithan’s personal struggles, and wanted to spend less time confused and more time enjoying his autobiographical stories.

Aside from that little hang-up, however, I really enjoyed the variety of genres and stories to be found in this anthology. There’s romantic comedy, verse, graphic storytelling, and memoir, as well as a few hybrid stories that seem like their own thing entirely. Most of these were published in other anthologies, but some were completely original, written as Valentine’s Day gifts for some of Levithan’s friends. Side note: I truly think that is one of the sweetest gifts to give a friend, and I’m glad Levithan mentioned that in his Author’s Note. In a way, it’s almost as if the reader is getting an intimate glimpse into Levithan’s heart and soul, reading the words he’d previously shared only with close friends and family. There’s something really special about that, and I think there’s something in this book for everyone.

Another thing I really enjoyed was the sheer amount of representation in this book. Not only is Levithan LGBT himself, but he also includes the experiences of those who deal with different struggles, such as transitioning from female to male or being a liberal lesbian with extremely unsupportive parents. From what it seems like, Levithan grew up in a fairly supportive home, but he acknowledges that there are vulnerable kids out there who don’t feel as safe in their home environment. I think that’s really important, and I’m glad he took the time to explore those stories as well. He even details his own struggle with reconciling his Jewish faith with his sexuality, something that many teens struggle with and could help heal those who feel torn between two different identities. There’s a lot of good, meaty stuff in these tracks, and the format makes it easy to skip around to the stories that the reader will most resonate with.

While I think this book could be good for reluctant readers, as it’s broken up into bite-sized pieces, there’s also a lot of complex language. Though I’ve always enjoyed poetry, some verse can be a little headache-inducing to read, and there is a ton of flowery and figurative language in these tracks that might frustrate someone picking this book up for an easy, mindless read. I do think that this would be a great book to give to an LGBT teen, however, especially one who might be struggling with one of the issues discussed in this book.

There’s a lot of hope to be found in these “love songs,” and I think they show more than one facet of love. For example, in Track Eighteen’s “We,” the characters feel the profound love and hope emanating from the crowd of protestors, and feel acceptance and camaraderie of coming together to march for what they believe in. Similarly, Levithan highlights the love between parents and children when he recounts the love story of his parents, and again in “Snow Day” when we see how loving and supportive Avery’s mother is. Even if you hate romance as a genre, I think there’s a lot of stuff in there that will still resonate with you as a reader.

Overall, I really enjoyed this one, and I feel as if I know a lot more about David Levithan as a person than I did before. I really got the sense that he put a lot of himself into this book, as there are works spanning many years of his development as a writer and creative mind. I thought that was really cool, and I’m glad he decided to piece these together into one volume. I would definitely recommend this to fans of romance, as well as those who enjoy books that provoke thought and discussion. I would also highly recommend this to any teens struggling with their identity, as I think it could be very helpful and validating. I am not LGBT, but even I resonated with this book as someone on the ace spectrum, so I can really see it helping out someone still learning who they are as a person. I definitely plan on reading more of Levithan’s work in the future, as I think he has a lot of important stories left to share.

Reference:

Levithan, D. (2020). 19 Love Songs. New York, NY: Random House Children’s Books.

Say Her Name by Zetta Elliott

A riot’s the language of the unheard
Our race, besieged, has had its dreams deferred.
Africa lives on, in blood, root, and bone;
Yet when we are murdered, our named aren’t known.
We cannot breathe, in obscurity die,
Yet march with outrage we have been denied.
Remember, Brothers, Sisters’ lives count, too;
As equals we could build this world anew.

(Elliott 2020, p. 50).

This was a quick book, so my review will be equally quick. I must say, however, that I really appreciated this little book of poetry, as I think it’s empowering for all women, especially women of color. My absolute favorite poem in the entire book was “Self/Care,” as it really spoke to me and reminded me to love myself (something that is not always easy to do). The book is full of incredibly powerful poems, however, poems that encourage young women to stand up for their rights and what they believe in.

Many of the poems in this collection allude to real-world events, with descriptions in the back that explain what they are referring to. One such poem is “Lullaby,” which references the murders of Tamir Rice, Dajerria Becton, Trayvon Martin, and many others. I appreciated the notes in the back, as I had not heard of some of these cases and wanted more information. The title of the collection itself, Say Her Name, alludes to the campaign started by the African American Policy Forum in 2014, which brings attention and awareness to violence against black women and girls. I think this is an incredibly important movement, and I’m glad there is now a book of poetry drawing further attention to its message.

I understand that this book was not meant for me, but rather for the many young women of color out there fighting to have their voices heard every day. Despite this, I found myself profoundly moved by some of these poems, which resonated with me and prompted me to “feel something,” as “How to Resist” demands. As I said before, I think this book is good for everyone, not just women of color, but I whole-heartedly support and applaud any book that aims to lift these young people up and remind them that women of color are powerful. Honestly, no words I can say will do this collection justice, so I’ll leave with the above poem (called “On Being Builders of a New World”), which hit me especially hard.

Seriously, check this book out. It’s an incredibly powerful read.

Reference:

Elliot, Z., & Wise, L. (2020). Say her name: Poems to empower. New York, NY: Disney Book Group.