After the economic crises of the 2020s, a corner of Europe known only as the State has become a monoculture of gender, sexuality, ability and race. Forced to leave their home, Ash and Pinar, elder leaders of the Resistance, have made a new, quieter life in the forest.
But nothing lasts forever.
These best friends answer the calls of the past – and the future – to rejoin their community and face their oppressors head on. As a movement, they organise for dignity and self-determination. Together, they fight to survive.
- - -
Written by a trans woman and (former) sex worker, this speculative fiction novel puts transgender, sex work and femininity at the centre. In this sensitive exploration of exclusion, Otter Lieffe calls us to renew our struggles against oppression and to proudly reclaim the margins that so many of us call home.
Kes Otter Lieffe is a writer, ecologist, and community organiser currently based near Berlin. She is the author of a trilogy of queer speculative fiction novels, several short stories, and a colouring book series on queer ecology. Kes writes from a working-class, chronically ill, transfeminine perspective.
Unfortunately although there are some great concepts that went into this novel, it would need work to be a successful work of fiction. The writing suffers from the classic too much telling and not enough showing, like reading the author's notes about what the characters are like instead of them just being.
The plotting is a bit messy, with mostly a 'this happened and then this happened' structure with major action sometimes happening off screen and an unclear purpose at times for certain scenes. The narrative also has weird asides explaining leftist political thought that feel like insertions of non-fiction into fiction; sometimes characters' thoughts function that way too. They always brought me out of the story and brought my attention to the fact that I was reading a dystopian story written by someone today, which is never something you want a reader to feel.
Aside from Ash and Pinar who are the main characters and relatively fleshed out, the characters seemed more like types or people to fill certain roles rather than full dimensional people. The character who was the villain was especially one dimensional and the character who betrays her girlfriend, well, I could see it coming a mile away and I'm terrible at guessing that kind of thing.
Ultimately I think the book suffers from a mindset where its function as a political tool overshadows the fact that it's a work of fiction. Of course novels can and have been very politically powerful that way but they have to be powerful STORIES. Does anyone like reading a novel that feels like it wants to be a persuasive essay, even if you're on board with the politics already?
All that said, I did like what I could see was a lot of the thinking behind the book. I really appreciated that the friendship between Pinar and Ash was really at the centre of the story; yay women friendships! I also thought it was great how many sex worker characters there were. It's one of the few novels I've read where queer sex workers are front and centre, which is pretty amazing. Please, more books with them starring! And of course I can't forget Ash, who's probably the only trans woman character in her 70s who I've ever seen in fiction, and a non-cis-passing one to boot!
A few of the details of the dystopian world building were great too. I loved things like references to the "coffee wars" which was why coffee was so scarce and expensive; the fact that a sign language version of English had come into common usage as part of the resistance but had been co-opted; the "femme riots"! Some tidbits of how things work in activism circles (like arguing about whether a space has to be vegan or TERFs complaining about the inclusion of trans women) were also bang on.
In short, I wish this book had had the care and attention of an editorial team to help transform it into the great novel I think it could be with revisions.
This book is incredible. It's so very fiercely trans and rooted in activism and resistance. I loved it. It also comes with strong tw for state brutality, rape and sexual coercion, transphobia and homophobia. (there are others, but I need to rest my head and think through to catch most. these are the things you'll be very actively engaging with though)
already one of my favorite books ever. I was looking so hard for this without knowing.
trapnsfeminism, sex work, time travel and resistance
lt is so amazing to read a book from a trans person who has been organising in social movements and can write so accuratly about the struggles.
things I loved about the book - Ash and Pinar are herborists/ massage therapists and in that way helping the resistance, they also make hormones!! (it is literally my dream to be a herbalist/medic for some sort of resistance, supplying trans people with hormones) - the way sex workers are the foundation of the resistance and the main source of information of the state - the critique of FLINTA spaces and how they are transmysogenist - the fact that everyone can use sign, and that this was first the main way of communicating in the resistance
anyway i love this book, i'm so happy to know that Otter Lieffe wrote 2 more books. I have the book at home, whoever wants it can borrow it!
It's just so amazing. A very well written piece of speculative fiction/dystopia based so much on the world we live in that shivers will run down your spine. Sex workers, queers, trans people, disabled people as those forming the resistance, making the history - because their only choice is to fight or to be extinguished. The marginalised are the center here. I loved the portrayal of the resistance, with all its' issues, not idealised; I loved the characters, I loved the plot. We need more fiction like this and we certainly need some Femme Riots...
Margins and Murmurations is an amazing novel. It is touching, exciting to read and moreover thoughtful and well written. Otter Lieffe's book touched me in ways that so far very view authors have managed with their writing. Her style and way of connecting surviving, trauma and the political in that, while centering her stories around protagonists living at the margins, reminds me of Octavia Butler. I hope she keeps writing this fiction which connects and entangles rather than splits and isolates.
"Dies ist für uns trans Frauen, die wir an uns selbst zweifeln, die die Lügen, die wir jeden Tag schlucken müssen, verinnerlicht haben, die ab und zu eine Pause vom ständigen Kämpfen brauchen, um uns daran zu erinnern, wie echt wir sind."
'Von wo wir kommen' ist eine Dystopie, in der alle Menschen, die hinsichtlich ihrer Identität, Sexualität, ihres Lebensstils oder ihres Körpers von der Norm der Dominanzgesellschaft abweichen, aus der Stadt vertrieben wurden, oder schlimmeres. Alle Menschen leben entweder in einer durch die Klimakrise nur halbwegs funktionierenden Stadt, oder leben versteckt in den umliegenden Wäldern.
'Der Staat', wie das totalitäre Regime bezeichnet wird, betreibt ähnlich wie bei 'Brave New World' Sprachzensur und löscht somit die diversen Identitäten auch aus der kollektiven Sprache aus. Offiziell ist Homosexualität verboten, inoffiziell nehmen einige hohe Staatsbedienstete Sexarbeit in Anspruch und stellen "ihre" Sexarbeiter*innen unter ihren Schutz, wodurch diese in einer ständigen Grauzone leben.
Im Roman lernen wir mehrere Protagonist*innen kennen, die allesamt in unterschiedlichen widerständischen Gruppierungen sind. Viele von ihnen sind trans, PoC und/oder homosexuell und alle verabscheuen den Staat zutiefst. Sie organisieren Selbstverteidigungskurse, Hilfsgüter für die gänzlich Unsichtbaren, oder organisieren Kampftruppen, die die Waldbewohner*innen vor dem Staat zu schützen versuchen. Insbesondere die vielen Sexarbeiter*innen nutzen ihre Arbeit, um ihre machtvollen Kund*innen auszuspionieren und ihnen diskret Informationen zu entlocken, die sie gegen den Staat verwenden können.
Die Spannungskurve finde ich sehr gelungen, mit kurzen Abschnitten, die oft elegant ineinander übergehen, und einer Erzählweise, die Hintergrundinfos geschickt unterbringt. Obwohl viel zwischen den Figuren gesprungen wird, fand ich es nie unübersichtlich. Es ist sehr interessant, wie verschiedene Generationen von Widerstandskämpfer*innen miteinander integriert werden, inklusive Reibungen, da es z.B. unterschiedliche Ansichten von Safe Spaces gibt.
Mein Kritikpunkt ist, dass das Buch mir manchmal zu belehrend vorkam. An ein paar Stellen hatte ich den Eindruck, als würden zu gewollt Lektionen erteilt werden (z.B. zu Fettfeindlichkeit), anstatt mehr auf 'show don't tell' zu setzen. Auch manche Figuren waren eher vom Tell als vom Show geprägt und wirkten dadurch recht flach, zu sehr zugeschnitten auf ihre Rolle. Zum Beispiel die des Generals, der extrem sadistisch daherkommt und damit als einziges greifbares Feindbild des gesichtslosen Regimes zu konstruiert wirkte.
Nichtsdestotrotz finde ich die Dystopie sehr gelungen und bin begeistert davon, dass queere und behinderte Personen hier im Fokus stehen, die sonst viel zu oft nur Randfiguren in Dystopien bleiben. Und dann gibt es noch die wundervolle Freundschaft zwischen Ash und Pinar, für die allein es sich lohnt, das Buch zu lesen.
Read for Housman's Feminist Sci Fi Book Club - the last book in our exploration of the different waves of feminism. I for one really enjoyed the book and wish that it had been picked up by a publisher to have helped Lieffe refine the story and the characters further. As it stands, it's an interesting (plot driven!) exploration of what a more intersectionally feminist rebellion looks like. I really hope that we hear more from this author in future.
I really liked what this book was trying to do and its world and the bravery in writing it. I didn't like that some of the characters behaviour, to me, often didn't make sense. And I feel that a lot of the characters had interesting stories that would have benefitted from more time being spent on them, but they got swept up and lost in everything crammed into this story.
I really loved the concept and I wanted to love the story as well, but on a whole the story and characters fell flat for me and it never really drew me in as much as I wanted it to. It felt more like something being told from afar.
Ich hätte das Buch gerne mehr gemocht, da ich die Grundidee nicht schlecht finde. Und ich hätte auch gerne eine nettere Review geschrieben. Aber irgendwie hat es nicht gepasst für mich.
Manche Figuren waren auch einfach nur böse, sonst nichts. zB Gus, der schwule General. Und mit diesen Figuren geht die Autorin auch sehr hart um. Während Gus in einer Gefängnisszelle ist und versucht sich das Leben zu nehmen, macht sie eine Slapstick-Szene voller Fäkalien daraus. Das Ganze wirkte sehr hämisch auf mich. Ich finde das sehr übel. Der einzige Schwule, der positiv dargestellt wird, ist Danny. Denn Danny ist ein Sexworker und ein Fanboy von Ash und Pinar. So wie fast alle Fanboys oder Fangirls von Ash und Pinar sind, die legendären A und P, die die Femme Riots angeführt haben. Wir erfahren erst ganz am Ende des Buches, was es mit den Femme Riots überhaupt auf sich hatte - diese Info hätte auch schon wesentlich früher gedropped werden können, da alle ständig von den Femme Riots reden. Ein guter Zeitpunkt wäre spätestens gewesen, als Elias Geschichte unterrichtet.
Manche Sachen sind auch nicht so richtig auserzählt. Auch Pinar, als sie von queeren Tieren erzählt. Pinar soll eine Biologin sein, aber ich finde sie klingt eher wie ein Buzzfeed Artikel. Nicht, dass Biolog*innen langweilig reden müssen, aber ich finde sie hat uns viel zu wenig Kontext über die einzelnen Tiere gegeben. Also zB wie da generell das Sozialverhalten ist, wäre eine interessante Info, ob die Tiere im Schwarm/in Herden leben, wie die Gemeinschaften organisiert sind, etc. Ihre Ausführungen hatten wenig Tiefe und waren eher Aufzählungen.
Ich finde es cool, dass Sign Language so präsent ist in dem Buch, aber verstehe wirklich überhaupt nicht, warum dieser diktatorische Staat sich die Sign Language angeeignet hat. Auch als es erklärt wurde, fand ichs nicht schlüssig. Und vor allem, dass es als etwas "Schlechtes" geframed wird, dass jetzt alle gebärden können (denn es wurde "gestohlen"/vereinnahmt aus der Kultur der Gehörlosen)! Für mich klingt das eher nach einer Utopie und ganz viel Inklusion. Wirklich, ich wäre so dankbar, wenn alle Kinder schon im Kindergarten und der Schule lernen würden, wie man gebärdet.
Trotz der Kritik: Ich bin mir sicher, dass dieses Buch für viele Leute ein wichtiges Buch ist, das ihnen Mut macht und Kraft gibt. Das will ich niemandem wegnehmen. Ich wünsche der Autorin alles Gute!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
There's something I've noticed before about stories and books whose authors weren't long-time writers so much as long-time activists, dipping into writing in order to say something borne out of that activism. They often use the tools of the writing craft bluntly: the prose is bland, the characters flat, the world-building heavy-handed. Arcs of character growth and plot progression tend to be shallow and disjointed, predictable in their major beats and meandering in between, and there's a lot of reliance on familiar archetypes and tropes.
But I always find these books worth reading. The tools by which the story is told may be well-worn, but the story itself is fresh, focusing on people and topics that rarely get to be centered in fiction--in this case, sex workers and elderly trans women, and revolution that's fundamentally collective and intersectional. Margins and Murmurations is no masterpiece of prose, storytelling, or speculation, and it could have benefited a lot from some professional editing, but I would soon lose faith with fiction if I couldn't find books like this that challenge our norms about what's worthy of being told as a story at all.
How refreshing it was to read a book with so many themes – race, privilege, sexuality, sexual orientation, ability/disability, herbalism, political oppression, and more – that are all too often absent from popular fiction. And in addition, this book was chock full of characters that are also all too often absent from stories: an elderly, trans, healer woman and a black, trans, pro-Domme who teaches self-defense classes and the list goes on. In literature we need more of these characters who look like, think like, and behave like more of us real people and not merely the fragile, flaxen-haired heroines who are just a modern day princess waiting for her prince charming. I want to read more books like Lieffe's that tackle real-world issues with real-world people.
I think it's cool how Lieffe's books in this trilogy all exist in the same world and have a chronological order, but work read on their own or in any order. And one has the feeling at each book could be the sequel or the prequel to another book, and if a particular book doesn't have a sequel or prequel in this trilogy, then it just hasn't been written. Somehow it speaks to how in activist movements (and in the world in general), we are always before other people and after other people and nothing we struggle with started or will come to a conclusion in our life time.
This story brings into focus people I see around me every day but don't really see represented in culture as full nuanced characters. Which is wonderful. It's imperfect, sometimes some of the social commentary/internal reflection of the main character passages feel like blog entries but overall I enjoyed the pacing of the plot and some of the relationship insights and complications of interpersonal dynamics are really spot on.
Loved this book. Finally an original story about trans people. Kinda happy that it was written before covid hit, because it would’be probably influenced the ‘crash of the 2020s’ that was mentioned and I feel like it would’ve shifted the context of the book to being about covid, when it clearly isn’t. Definitely gonna read the other 2 books (that are part of the trilogy but can also be read separately apparently)
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I struggle to find good LGBT speculative fiction that doesn't dwell on the sex/relationships angle and was pleasantly surprised by this book. Though a bit rough around the edges, it's not a bad dystopian tale with a myriad of trans and gay characters. I couldn't quite place which city was being portrayed (Lisbon?). I was bit disappointed that there was nothing about the author in the ebook.
This book was both an action-packed page-turner and a harrowing (yet not without hope) tale about what the future could hold for the resistance movement.
It was refreshing to see the story unfold through multiple perspectives, especially those that aren't often published--like an older trans woman and sex workers.
I definitely recognised scenes from activist circles reflected in the book. Like the feminists not accepting a trans woman. Or academic terminology excluding others from participation. Or the long, drawn-out meetings to reach consensus and Ash's impatience with them made me chuckle.
The sci-fi lover in me enjoyed the post-apocolyptic milieu as well, like the abandoned underground mall with creepy mannequins, and how the environment had been transformed from climate change.
I look forward to reading the next book and all other literary concoctions Lieffe has got a-brewing!
Not only is the dystopian world first-time author Otter Lieffe conjures compelling and realistic, her prose is succinct and beautifully sensuous, bringing to mind the likes of Margaret Atwood. In the same vein as 'Octavia's Brood: Science Fiction Stories from Social Justice movements' (edited by Adrienne Maree Brown and Walidah Imarisha), Lieffe's novel 'Margins and Murmurations' produces visionary speculative fiction centered around the struggle for fem trans equity in a world not too far away from our own, give or take a few decades.
The world needs infinitely more voices from the margins. Hers' is a powerful new voice in feminism and social justice as well as sci-fi.