Queenie Jenkins is a 25-year old woman living in London and she is not having a good year. Her boyfriend, Tom, has asked her to move out of their flat in the ever-ambiguous Ross and Rachel-type "break," she can't seem to keep focused on her job as she wades through the toxic waste that is OkCupid, and she struggles to find approval from her brash Jamaican family as she not-so-gracefully navigates subtle racism and blatant sexism. While some of her issues are simply the world spinning as it should, Queenie is a mess of her own making, which, as someone who is either 25-years old or used to be 25-years old, is something we can all relate to.But I'm not 25-years old anymore so I felt far-removed from Queenie and struggled to empathize with her. She is a difficult character to like, and I imagined it would be a challenge to be among her circle of friends. Queenie is not very self-aware, though she is incredibly self-involved, and is often the victim of her own restraints. She is also, however, enlightening and funny and has a hidden confidence that she simply hasn't mastered quite yet, much like every 25-year old everywhere. I would be very interested in revisiting Queenie in ten years time, when she is 35.
Written well, with several laugh-out-loud, and SMH "been there!" moments, Carty-Williams opens up a small part of London that we easily forget and easily ignore. We reserve racism in all its forms to the back-country American red-necks, not realizing that a small comment on skin tone isn't as complimentary as we might think; no other race - White, Asian, Hispanic - ever gets compliments on skin tone and complexion unless you're at the Barbazon kiosk or suffering from that pregnant glow. At the same time, Carty-Williams, whether unwittingly or on purpose, underscores the way in which we place ourselves in a box then get defensive when that box is recognized, the scene at the swimming pool a prime example.
The one, basic theme that we can all relate to - male, female, young and old - is the blatant pressure and judgment we receive from our family that is an otherwise normal desire to please our teachers and role models, but how that has an effect on the way we perceive the rest of the population - strangers, friends, and partners. If the people who love us the most are able to pass such harsh judgment and criticism, then surely it is much easier for someone who doesn't know a thing about us to do the same? Queenie's inherent anxiety is a direct result of the stress she feels in either trying to please her family, or explain and defend herself. It's no wonder we - including Queenie - feel we have to do the same with everyone else we encounter in the world. What Queenie not-so-eloquently exemplifies is that the way we choose to navigate those judgments and anxiety is ok and all a part of life.
Although I wouldn't place Queenie amongst the voting pool of Goodreads Best Books of 2019, it is a good, well-structured read that almost anyone can appreciate and, like Queenie herself, find beauty in. "To all the Queenie's out there. You are enough." ⭐⭐⭐/5 on goodreads.
