A speculative comedy comprised of a carousel of Black and Queer voices being pushed further underground by urban prosperity.
New Stockholm, a metropolis like any other across North America, is unofficially divided between two worlds. Its upwardly mobile form the centre of its gleaming eye, but their prosperity and affluence are not the focus of Zeynab’s government-funded abstract documentary. Her lens trails to the city’s margins instead, in polluted industrial wastelands such as Cipher Falls, one of New Stockholm’s last affordable neighbourhoods, where creatives and other anti-capitalist voices increasingly find themselves pushed into demeaning, dead-end jobs. In this growing underground network, Zeynab’s lens focuses on the mysterious demise of Doudou Laguerre, whose death may be related to his activism against a construction project.
Subterrane connects us to a constellation of Black and Queer voices, the hair braiders, tattoo artists, holistic healers, weed dealers, and sidewalk horticulturists struggling to make a life in New Stockholm. Together, they illustrate how in cities across the continent, entire communities are being sidelined in the name of prosperity.
2.5/5–The impact of Bah’s work will, more than most, depend on the eye of the beholder. Passages that blur the line between inspired clarity and surrealist fuzz could delight and compel, or completely baffle. I lie somewhere in the land between.
This is an elliptical, voice-driven novel, voice being both its strength and weakness. So pitch perfect are its melodies that its draw subsumes most pleasures of plot. The book is a murder-mystery with no intrigue. Character studies with no cohesion. Every time I was sucked into the story of Maya and Zaynab, I was sucked back out, left to ramble among secondary characters—who sometimes feel like implausible caricatures because of their existentially exaggerated responses and how swiftly they enter and exit—when it would have been ideal to have the searing details and offbeat residents of Cipher Falls and New Stockholm filtered solely through them.
Ultimately, for me, “Subterrane” is obtuse in moments when its swirling energies should be concordant, a frustrating gesture for a novel so full of harmonic possibility.
But don’t take my word for it. You’re an urban dweller antagonized by conference fatigue and settler colonialism? This may just be the text for you.
Utter postmodernist drivel. I honestly thought there had been a mistake in the ebook when I reached the end because I thought this cannot possibly be all this book is! But it was! Generally, I love strange books, but there should be some kind of theme or purpose to a book and its writing. This is just a random assortment of vignettes of mildly annoying and overly self-involved strangers. I’m sure ChatGPT could produce something of higher quality.
A dazzlingly original piece of work for a first-time novelist. If you need a strong plot to propel you through the narrative, this book ain't for you. It is entirely character-driven and what characters they are! The author's dramatis personae, and their unique voices, alternate chapter by chapter and lead to a provocative conclusion. There is even a cat named Chekhov! I approve.
“She realized that she was just like the kind of person she distrusts: those who feel they have to go elsewhere to consume culture. Why can’t she make the thing she seeks?”