A dark, provocative, adrenaline-rush of a novel about a graduate student who murders bad men and justifies it in the name of feminism, by a bold new voice in fiction
Yrsa is in a funk. She’s bored of her PhD program, bored of her research on Afropessimism, bored of the entitled undergrads she has to cater to. But most of all, she’s bored of the men in her life—especially the bad ones.
When her best friend, Nina, confesses to having an affair with her professor, and that he’s stolen her research, Yrsa is mad. On the quad, Yrsa bumps into the professor and witnesses his death: an unfortunate incident involving his San Pellegrino and a bee allergy. What she sees that afternoon awakens something in her: a taste for murder.
Emboldened, Yrsa decides to chase that high, and soon, no sexist, misbehaving man within commuting distance is safe.
With each murder, Yrsa feels a greater sense of meaning and purpose—finally, her doctoral research feels useful. But how long can killing in the name of feminist and racial solidarity justify her actions? Will her rampage ever assuage her feelings of rage and revenge? And how long until her actions—and buried family secrets—come back to haunt her?
I'm a smidge confused with this one. This is described as "wickedly funny", but I'd argue it's more serious in tone and academic than that would lead you to believe. Nonetheless, I enjoyed the more serious topics surrounding racial justice and inequality more than the otherwise silly thriller that this is pitched to be.
Unfortunately, the writing here didn't really work for me. If this had been a general fiction novel surrounding race, afropessimism, and revenge as a concept I think it would've worked a bit more for my personal taste. However, I feel like we were trying to dive so much into those topics that the thriller plot points would just kind of fall off and never be fully developed, and because we were trying to make this a thriller, it didn't dive into other topics as thoroughly as I felt like I wanted it to. A classic case of trying to do so many things that it didn't really commit to any of them.
Unfortunately, 2.75 stars rounded up from me. I look forward to seeing what else this author writes in the future!
Thanks so much to Random House and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review!
I thought that this would be my new favorite unhinged female serial killer novel, but the stars weren't aligned this time.
There were funny one-liners (presented in a very British-style dry humor manner), and I really liked the discussions on being a Black academic at Cambridge. Unfortunately, most of the good stuff happened offscreen.
It wasn't until the last 25-30% that we actually see what's happening with Yrsa and her victims. I understand that it was due to the FMC's drug abuse (so she most likely was mentally checked out most of the time), but the drug abuse didn't even happen onscreen either. It was disappointing and it didn't make for an exciting read.
If you're a fan of My Year of Rest and Relaxation, then you might like this. Both feature sarcastic, disaffected, and (at times) mean FMCs who aren't satisfied with their lives and who self-destruct in unhealthy ways.
Thank you to Random House and NetGalley for this arc.
Yrsa is a PhD student writing her dissertation on Afropessimism. Her best friend, Nina is having an affair with her professor and he steals Nina’s research. Yrsa is furious. Then Yrsa gets to watch him die due to his allergy to bee stings and it changes something in her…she starts chasing that high.
Feminist and fun, I enjoyed this dark academia thriller (though it bothered me throughout that I have no idea whether I’m pronouncing “Yrsa” correctly in my head.). No idea whether it will stick with me though (and, now, I mere two weeks later it’s already pretty fuzzy.)
Yrsa is certainly a morally grey and interesting character, and this novel spent a lot of time providing context for her motivation to kill. This was a twisty, funny read, and I liked the tie to her research with Afropessimism and the nuance of her being a Black woman seeking retribution. I was puzzled at her choice to constantly engage and spend time with problematic men, even in pursuit of kills, and personally found her inner monologue a bit aggravating. The ending felt rushed and I would've liked to see some threads further fleshed out. Nonetheless, this a strong debut. This will appeal to readers who enjoy diverse, feminist suspense and eccentric character studies. Thank you to the publisher and Netgalley for the ARC.
This is a story about a woman named Yrsa who kills a man with a bee. That’s how it starts, anyway. But really, it’s a book about control who has it, who’s taken it, and how far one woman is willing to go to reclaim it. Yrsa’s voice is sharp, academic, and restless. She is not here to be liked. She is here to think, rage, dissect, and dismantle and she invites you to watch.
The themes of Afropessimism and justice, intellectual theft and power, are heavy and rich. The book hums with ideas. But often it hums louder than it speaks. Yrsa’s inner monologue, while intellectually charged and fiercely singular, sometimes feels like trying to listen to a symphony while assembling IKEA furniture you know something important is happening, but you're not entirely sure where to put the screws.
Some plot threads start with intrigue but fade rather than resolve. And while the narrative voice is undeniably bold, the emotional core felt distant at times.
I appreciated the academic lens, especially the exploration of Afropessimism and justice, but the pacing and dialogue often left me disengaged. Some plot threads felt underdeveloped, and the emotional core didn't quite land for me. Still, Imani Thompson is clearly a bold new voice, and I'm curious to see where she goes next.
Readers drawn to character studies over clean plots, and to questions over answers, may find more sweetness in the sting than I did.
2.5/5 stars. Thank you to NetGalley, Random House, and Imani Thompson for the advanced copy in exchange for an honest review.
Deranged yet funny. Sadistic yet sweet. I predict Yrsa is going to become one of the decade’s most controversial characters. I found the last quarter particularly powerful, especially once readers learn the back story of Yrsa's relationship with her grandmother and estrangement from school friends. This is a real sensation, particularly for a debut novel. I predict that a movie adaptation will arrive shortly.
Favorite quotes:
"DNA. Trace it back and her lines become crossed, polluted and pollinated. An Irish man and an enslaved woman, some say. The Sargasso Sea and hot work. Body work. Oranges and tobacco. A mistress, a master, a boy who decided to take a boat. Others say Egypt and the Nile to Calcutta. But it's hard to know. Back when they drew maps for the world they wanted to see. Then back before, when color wasn't color and the gods were closer to the earth. Imprints in the red soil. In land spoiled and unspoiled and spoiled again. When tongues spat different syllables and all the patterns, all the shapes, were newfound. Cinnamon to the bark. Where is she in this, in lines twisted and sequenced to their double helix. Because the dead aren't dead, they carry. Bone lines, blood lines. The bodies that the sea swallowed and dissolved and turned to sand. Is she, the maternal, stronger? Back before it was women and women and men. When it was finding feet and star worlds. Was it built on violence—or love—in the nucleus, in the chemical base of this, here, her."
"In a moment, she stands, watching the bottom of the elevator as it climbs the shaft, her mind full of men who think the entire world belongs to them. They are like dogs, marking everything in sight, and the minute a woman claims something for herself, they piss on it, too."
Yrsa is a professor for a college in the UK. She is passionate about the content of her work and the trouble that women of color go through in today’s society. She begins her descent into madness because of men.
Men who she has a tendency to sleep with. She gets pleasure out of using them to fill her desires and not be used herself. She has a hard time developing feelings for people period. Whether it be men, her friends or her family. Early on it’s pretty safe to assume that she is mentally unstable, possibly sociopathic.
As the book progresses we see her snap. She is done being nice to men. Especially men who are pieces of crap in her eyes. She makes a silent vow to herself to do something about these men who she knows. In her mind they don’t deserve to live for one reason or another. Even though to a normal person those wouldn’t be reasons to murder someone.
She starts on a killing spree. Slowly she becomes a serial killer. In her mind she has a good reason as to why she’s killed each person and nothing can change that. But will she eventually feel bad for what she’s done? Or will she full steam ahead and continue her spree?
So this is the authors debut novel. I agreed to read this in exchange for an honest review through Net Galley and Random house publishing company. I think some of the chapters fell a tad flat for me. I also don’t understand this being advertised as a “funny” book. It’s not funny at all and touched on a lot of racial issues within our society in present day.
This book was dark, serious and at times disturbing. Nothing about it was comical to me. I also wished certain characters and relationships were fleshed out more. But I did enjoy Yrsa and everything she had to offer in the book. I will be keeping an eye out for more of this authors work.
This was a strong debut, and the author included a lot of themes of treatment of black women in society, complex family relationships, and justifications for murder, just to name a few. However, a lot of the plot lines didn't feel properly wrapped up, and the ending had me wishing there was more left.
Thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for this eArc in exchange for an honest review!
I cannot tell you why this book is "wickedly funny," as described. I enjoyed this read. I had a lot of feelings and thoughts about the content and tone. Funny? That was truly never on the list. If you're coming here because of this billing, please know that you may have to travel to the Upside Down to find out where this is supposed to be happening. I...just don't get this at all. If you're coming to this book for any other reason, great. It's a wild read in a good way.
Yrsa is over it. And by "it," I mean gross men behaving in disturbing ways. The challenges include but are not limited to (1) Yrsa decides what is disturbing and (2) her punishment methods are extreme and permanent. Creep her out. She'll kill you. You must give her this; she's committed to the bit.
One of several aspects of this novel that I loved and feared is that the nasty stuff Yrsa encounters is ubiquitous. These dudes aren't outliers. I know these guys, and so do you. I'm also fed up with this behavior, and certain events of the last few years have further exhausted some of us. You know the part where we're going backward in obvious ways and terrible treatment of women is regularly applauded and rewarded, including by folks in high power positions. So the world Yrsa exists in isn't some bizarro dystopia. It's just...this. Her reactions are big, but also I can't say I haven't had the thought. So there's that whole thread to think about from cover to cover.
Another riveting element of this novel is what slowly unfolds with Yrsa's backstory and family history. What I wouldn't do for a prequel. My main gripe - aside from having to suspend a lot of disbelief (and still being confounded by the hilarity promised here) - is that I wanted more of that origin story.
Reading this made me feel like a voyeur, a cheerleader, a potential killer, and...a fan of Thompson's. Go off, Yrsa. I never want to meet you, but I will always be happy to read about your escapades (and anything else Thompson produces, too)!
*Special thanks to NetGalley and Lauren Chrisney at Penguin Random House for this widget, which I received in exchange for an honest review. The opinions expressed here are my own.
This is a fascinating look at Yrsa, a PH.D. student who meets Ethan online and hopes it goes somewhere. But things soon spiral out of control and there are bees, poison,, murder plans, and so much more! It's wacky and often unbelievable, but it's a hoot and unlike anything else I've ever read! Thanks to NetGalley for this ARC!
I think this was trying to do too much in a small book. Yrsa was deeply unlikeable and not an interesting morally grey way, but more annoying and lack of development. There were so many plot lines and themes weaved throughout this story and none of them felt developed enough to be entertaining or even worthwhile. Honestly I really thought this was going to be a great feminist thriller, but it was a drag to read.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers for kindly providing an ARC in exchange for an honest review. #Honey #NetGalley. All opinions are my own.
October 2025: Publishing date: May 2025 Reviewed by @literary.listener
Wowza. I got this ARC from @netgalley and I am so thankful!! @_imani_thompson_ hit it out of the park. What a well written and interesting story.
The story follows the female main character in her exploration of violence. She is currently doing her doctorate at the University and struggling to find a way to finish her dissertation. She also is dealing with the complex relationships between friends, family, and exes. When the buzz (🐝) of an opportunity comes, she takes it. And the reader gets to follow her linking the past to the present.
Really think this a great quick read that explores a lot about not only being a woman, but a Black Jamaican young woman trying to find a place in this world that fits their mold. Beautiful!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
This book is a solid 3 stars for me. I think, for me, it took almost half the book to get really interested in it. Outside of the actual killings and oddly enough, the relationship with her mother, I find that it fell flat and hard to keep my attention. The dialogue was extensive and while it was realistic and easy to read, it just really did not keep me interested and at times it felt more like a chore to get through the conversations and the reward was the little bit of action we got with each kill. The men in this book also…. while written accurately, it just annoyed me that we had SO much time with them. I really loved the premise of the book, I love feminine rage, I love realistic and complicated relationships, and I loved the view point this book offers of feminism and a women of color seeking revenge. It just felt boring at times.
The writing style feels intentionally disorienting — as if you’re being pulled back and forth through Yrsa’s thoughts in real time. The structure mirrors her inner world, creating an intimate (and at times unsettling) closeness to her mental state. It feels deliberate. Psychological. Immersive.
Yrsa is a sexually liberated woman in her mid-twenties pursuing a PhD in sociology. Her thesis — “How Afropessimism Is Shaping Black Women’s Discourses on Their Liberation” — isn’t just academic. It becomes deeply personal.
After a pivotal and irreversible turning point involving a powerful male figure in her academic world, Yrsa begins interrogating liberation in ways that blur the line between theory and lived experience. She wrestles with haunting questions:
* If liberation can only be found in death, what if she changes the object of violence? * If violence turns subject into object, is violence the only way to reclaim subjecthood?
Instead of observing theory from a distance, Yrsa makes herself the case study.
What unfolds is a dark, philosophical exploration of agency, power, and the politics of Black womanhood.
This isn’t a comfortable read — but it is a compelling one. It challenges the reader to sit with moral tension, to question systems of power, and to consider how far one might go to reclaim autonomy.
Thank you to NetGalley & Random House for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.
I breezed through this wonderful novel, not just because it is good but because I was ridiculously invested and stressed out over Yrsa’s circumstances. I ended up rating this one a 4.5 because it was truly just so much fun.
Honey is about a PhD student named Yrsa who goes on a killing spree, which she justifies both for feminism and research purposes. A decent amount of her dissertation is building off of theory by Saidiya Hartman, describing the ways that violence is repeated by oppressed peoples—Yrsa specifically talks about Black people/descendants of slaves. She claims that it is her methodology, therefore, to repeat violence against (mostly) white men who have horrific ideas about race and women. While this may sound strange and easy to mess up, Thompson makes Yrsa a truly compelling character in how she works out her ethical logic. Also, the novel is ridiculously funny and I found myself laughing out loud by the end. Thompson is a terrific writer and has elevated a simple archetype of a serial killer into a provoking novel that is incredibly fun to read.
ARC Received: NetGalley - Random House Publication Date: May 5, 2026
Honey is sharp, unsettling, and very different from what I expected. I actually had no idea what to expect. What looks like a feminist revenge story is really an exploration of how theory can become a shield for personal collapse. And Yrsa is mentally collapsing for real.
Yrsa, a Black PhD student, understands power, history, and violence with striking clarity — but the further the book goes, the more obvious the gap between her insight and her actions becomes. The violence feels less driven by belief and more justified after the fact.
The ending offers no closure, which is exactly why it works I feel. Yrsa remains unseen not because people around her are naïve, but because she still sounds legible. Remember she is highly intelligent which beg the question to me, why is she doing this?? I didn’t feel comforted by this book (which I don’t think is the point at all), but I did keep thinking about it long after finishing. A lot of people may now mesh with style of character development, she didn’t make you want to root for her. For me it was a solid 4.5 stars read.
I hated the first two-three pages (the writing was atrocious, like Imani Thompson tried to pack every cliche of the insufferable Gen Z Cambridge PhD student there), but so glad I kept reading because the rest was fun and well-paced, witty and really entertaining. Ysra is a PhD student in Cambridge, writing about Afropessimism. When her friend's PhD supervisor, who stole her research after having an affair with her, chokes on a bee in his lemonade in front of her, she doesn't call the ambulance straight away as she realises how fun it is to watch him choke and die. (No spoiler, this is the summary of the book.) She obviously develops a taste for blood and... starts thinking about how she could get that thrill again and again. It made me think of My Sister The Serial Killer, it has the same vibe, similar humour, similar enough plot. The author has tried to make this more about race and academia as well, which works, and I liked how much of the sociopath Ysra is at every page.
This novel kills it in the name of feminism. “Honey” is fast paced. The novel is full of pop culture references, that do date the novel in this current time, but that also paint Yrsa as a relatable character. While reading “Honey” the reader can expect every single event to escalate as quickly as possible. The plot is not twisty, there isn’t much doubt to what is going to happen, but this adds nuance. Every aspect of this novel questions racial micro-aggressions and the reality of being a black woman in a society that was not built for black women.
Despite being a fictional work, “Honey” is filled with sociology, theories and history. A common theme is the assumption of “black anger.” Thompson’s writing is a highlight of this novel. Quick and sarcastic, Yrsa is written to be at times despicably unlikable and at other times an absolute pleasure to figure out.
Thank you to Penguin Random House and NetGalley for prominent an ARC in exchange for a honest review.
Honey by Imani Thompson is a debut that follows Yrsa, a disillusioned Black PhD student whose accidental involvement in a professor’s death inspires her to start a killing spree against problematic and misogynistic men. Yrsa’s justification for violence blurs the line between feminist theory, afropessimism (the subject of her PhD) and personal obsession but is a bit more nuanced than a simple revenge against bad guys story. Moments of humanity slip through for both Yrsa and the men she targets, and some of her kills backfire in ways that show her lack of control.
The book felt a little disjointed throughout with some side characters and plot lines that felt irrelevant to the overarching story and were left unresolved. The ending read like a good thriller which I quite enjoyed but felt mismatched to the rest of the book. I did really enjoy the premise and recommend this if you are looking for weird girl lit written by a BIPOC author.
Thank you to Random House Publishing and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for my honest review.
Yrsa is in a funk. She’s bored of her PhD program, bored of her research on Afropessimism, bored of the entitled undergrads she has to cater to. But most of all, she’s bored of the men in her life—especially the bad ones.
When her best friend, Nina, confesses to having an affair with her professor, and that he’s stolen her research, Yrsa is mad. On the quad, Yrsa bumps into the professor and witnesses his death: an unfortunate incident involving his San Pelligrino and a bee allergy. What she sees that afternoon awakens something in her: a taste for murder.
Emboldened, Yrsa decides to chase that high, and soon, no sexist, misbehaving man within commuting distance is safe.
This was a unique and fascinating read. I was expecting some comedic, half-assed “thriller” that leaned in on tropes I’ve seen before. Instead, I got a surprisingly academic and morally gray story about an intelligent woman who gets herself into trouble by testing her hypothesis that killing “bad men” can release Black women from oppression.
Maybe it’s because I’m a sociologist myself, but I loved the interwoven academic theory and discussion that was key to Yrsa’s development. Although I can’t say Afropessimism is something I’m familiar with, it provided a unique plot device that kept me coming back for more.
I do think there were some storylines that felt unfinished, and the ending itself was a little abrupt. But all in all, I loved the change of pace this book had in comparison to my usual books - I am sure this is just the beginning in Imani Thompson’s writing career.
Thanks to NetGalley/Random House Publishing for the ARC!
thank you so much netgalley for the opportunity to read this book as an arc
honestly this wasnt quite what i was expectin, ence my rating. the premise sounds really interesting to me but based on it, i was expecting a much funnier silly book. however this book holds a few important topics on a more serious note so this isnt to say this is a bad book whatsoever, just not what i was expecting from it and what i was craving. but still really reccomend.
I was so looking forward to reading this book, described as “wickedly funny”. Unfortunately, I found this unusual tale to be more sad than funny, as the main character seemed depressed and dissatisfied with her life. The story started out very slowly, but picked up significantly at about 50%. I received a complimentary copy of this book and chose to write a voluntary, unbiased review.
Thank you to Netgalley for this eARC in exchange for an honest review.
This book was overall okay. I think that it would’ve been a better story, if Yrsa didn’t justify the killing and was just killing men because they deserved it, it didn’t need the whole grandma plot. Overall the main character lacked the unhingedness that would have made the novel more fun and fast paced. I also didn’t like the writing style and the pacing. There were a lot of scenes that read too much like they were meant to be in a film rather than a book I did like the ending as in the last few lines, however, the build up to the ending was meh
“That man there with a taste for young girls and a deleted internet history, how would you do it? Him, there, who says women can't say no, go on, how would you?”
Imani Thompson sums up what we’re all too scared to admit to thinking: how WOULD we get away with murder if we could?
Honey is rooted in both academia and hyper-current pop culture and references. Propulsive and witty, with favourite quotes including:
“Is she about to be blackmailed? She's only got £496 in her Monzo.”
“Maybe if she'd started gardening she wouldn't have started killing people.”
“Why can't she just shag in peace? Why do men have to speak?”
Yrsa is a brilliant, morally grey, determined and strong protagonist with undeniable draw and allure. I couldn’t wait to see her next move. Why is she the way she is? It’s gradually drip-fed to us in a very pleasing way throughout the book. Twists and turns with a wholly believable cast of characters. 95% of the men? Diabolical.
Honey disappointed me. It’s labeled as wickedly funny, but it read like an interior drama that is weighted down by the heavy themes like racism, misogyny, afropessimism and more. While the plot intrigued me, the writing didn’t. It felt flat and slow, and while I wanted to love Yrsa, painted as an avenger, I found her impossible to connect with.
Not recommended. Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.
Honey is a novel that withholds the one thing readers are trained to expect: growth. This is what makes it so electric. Yrsa’s cool detachment only sharpens as the novel progresses. The more she searches for meaning, the more elusive it becomes. The harder she grasps, the further it slips away. This emotional vacancy is mirrored in Yrsa’s academic life. Intellectual frameworks become a means of explaining violence rather than confronting it. Academia functions as a buffer. It is a space in which harm can be theorised, historicised, and justified without consequence. Thompson’s portrayal of academic writing is particularly compelling. Yrsa spends the novel attempting to define violence. She situates it within theory, racism, and Afropessimism, yet remains profoundly incapable of recognising it in herself. In trying to name violence, she avoids knowing it.
Misogyny is foregrounded throughout the novel. It affects women broadly but is particularly tied to the specific violence enacted against Black women. What begins as rage gradually deepens alongside Yrsa’s thesis. It shifts into a broader exploration of what it means to inhabit a Black body within systems shaped by both historical and ongoing violence. Thompson draws on the legacy of slavery and racialised oppression. She suggests a kind of disassociation that emerges when violence is both inherited and enacted. Yrsa’s brutality is not framed in isolation. It is a distorted response to the prejudices and constraints that continue to shape Black womanhood. While I can only empathise with this perspective in part as a white woman, the novel remains firmly concerned with voice. It allows these experiences to exist on their own terms rather than as theoretical abstraction.
These frameworks ultimately collapse back into Yrsa herself. She is not a particularly likeable protagonist. Yet the novel quietly invites empathy in unsettling ways. Her violence is often framed as corrective. It raises uncomfortable questions about justice and retribution. It asks whether violence can ever truly make things right. Thompson resists moral resolution. She forces the reader to reckon with what is taken — families, futures, lives — when violence is framed as “righting a wrong.” Yrsa’s lack of empathy and her near-narcissistic ability to return to normality is perhaps the most chilling aspect of her character.
I was particularly drawn to the pacing of the novel. Split into beautifully written, precise paragraphs, every moment feels intentional, sharp, and controlled. The repetition of violence builds steadily. It creates a sense of inevitability. Yrsa seems to constantly resist herself, even as the outcome feels preordained. There is a quiet sense of karma woven throughout the narrative. It raises questions of nature versus nurture, inheritance, and choice. While the novel gestures toward family history and learned behaviour, Yrsa never appears especially interested in being better. Instead, she leans into excess. Drinking, sex, distraction — attempts to fill a void that remains stubbornly untouched. Violence becomes the one thing that cuts through the numbness. It makes her feel briefly, dangerously alive.
While I found the academic elements of Thompson’s writing masterful, woven throughout the novel with intelligence, restraint, and lyrical precision, this approach will not be to every reader’s taste. Theory, metaphor, and interiority are integral to the novel’s rhythm. The payoff is not catharsis but discomfort. Honey does not tie its threads neatly. Instead, it lingers. It demands that the reader sit with ambiguity long after the final page.
As the novel progresses, Yrsa’s detachment begins to fracture. Control slips. The narrative tightens into a quiet spiral rather than a dramatic collapse. Thompson’s use of metaphor is striking throughout. From the bee flicked into a drink to insects trapped and observed, these images echo the novel’s fixation on power, containment, and spectatorship. They mirror the novel’s ending with unsettling precision. Tension builds steadily, culminating in a conclusion that refuses catharsis or closure.
Ultimately, Honey is a novel preoccupied with cycles. Cycles of violence, justification, and return. Yrsa does not break from these patterns. She reinforces them. Each act feeds the next, looping back on itself rather than moving forward. The novel’s refusal to offer resolution feels deliberate. Without accountability or self-recognition, violence does not end. It repeats.
Afropessimism is a social critique that theorizes that Black people will always be seen in a civil society as enemies due to the racial structure of a society built on slavery, colonialism, and racism. Blackness is something that was born from enslavement and colonialism because of the way people of color were seen in society and this view has not changed nor will it change in the future. The only way that racism will end is if society ends. (I know there is more nuance to these ideas, but this is a very basic outline.) This is the backdrop of Yrsa’s thinking in Honey, the debut novel by Imani Thompson. Yrsa is studying at university and writing a paper on Afropessimism, and after a colleague steals her friend’s research and publishes it as his own, Yrsa starts to see that there is only one way to really deal with the frustration of being a black woman in society. Kill horrible men.
The story really makes sense in the simplest terms. Women are growing tired of terrible men, but most women do not do anything about it. Since Yrsa does not feel like she is in a society that accepts her anyway, she might as well try to change society in the small way that she can. When Yrsa confronts the research stealing colleague, they are talking about on a park bench. She sees a bee flying around his drink, and her intrusive thought to knock the bee into his drink win. Yrsa watches him die. This gives her a high that she has been craving, and the more that she looks around her, the more she sees that it is easy to point out terrible men who are successful while she is struggling. Horrible men are everywhere, and this makes it easy for her to start hunting for men who are sexist, misogynistic, and/or racist, and teach him a lesson.
I like Yrsa for her bored mischievousness. She does seem like someone who is having an existential problem with not feeling like she belongs anywhere in the world, and she is overwhelmingly bored by it. The only thing that makes her feel important is getting rid of horrible men. She is someone who needs more help than society is willing to give her, and this also plays into her feelings on society due to her research on afropessimism. She feels like the social structure has let her and all women down, and there is no real redemption through the expected channels. She finds her own way to help herself, even if that has turned her into a monster. I enjoy thinking about the questions that this novel asks, and it makes me wonder how many women will read this novel and completely agree with Yrsa’s actions. Honey reminds me of American Psycho in a way that it is more about the commentary on society than it is about a clean resolution of the story.
I received this as an ARC from Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.