I had some. High hopes for this book. I thought the synopsis sounded interesting and the blurb compared it to Sarah Waters books, which I've always enjoyed. A trans man solving crimes in Victorian London sounds like a blast. I love crime, love LGBT rep, love Victorian period pieces. So of course I was going to dig this book.
Nah, man. Nah. Nope. This book was hot fucking garbage. Not because of the plot or the writing. Those were fine, although it sure wasn't a Sarah Waters mystery, her plots tend to grab you in a way this one didn't, at least for me. It was hot fucking grabage because of the way the author treated the protagonist. Reeve sends Leo through the wringer and despite the assertion in the author's bio that he was writing a book about a trans man because it leant some kind of extra zing that was otherwise missing, he doesn't treat his protagonist like any author would treat a cis man protagonist.
"Hey though," you might say, "this book is intentionally dark! You can't criticize a book about the murder of a prostitute in 1880s London for having its protagonist suffer too much!" The thing about that is that there aren't so many books about trans men, and even fewer period pieces about trans men. Trans people suffer and die disproportionately in media already, truly, no one needs another book full of trans suffering, and this book is full of it. Moreover, it's ENTIRELY possible to have a trans protagonist suffer in ways that are less (or not at all!) tied into his transness.
+++ Spoilers +++
Leo is brutally raped in this book. The scene is graphic and gratuitious. Aftewards he has to visit an abortion clinic. He contemplates suicide and recalls a previous suicide attempt. His sister is overtly cruel to him. He dresses as a woman in order to meet a witness for the mystery he's trying to solve, and goes under his deadname to do it. Those are just some of the more horrible things the author puts the character through. Again, yeah, I get it. It's supposed to be dark. Sure. But an author, especially a cis man, taking on the challenge of portraying a trans protagonist in a respectful way, has a responsibility to treat the protagonist in a way that doesn't, I don't know, further the oppression of trans people and recall so many of the ways that trans men can and do suffer in real life in the year 2020. I don't really think Reeve made any attempt to do that.
Even then, even if all these horrible things happening to Leo were integral to the plot, which I don't really buy, it's still so unnecessary to have him refer to his binding material as a "cilice", in tribute to the garments worn by pentitents specifically to make them suffer. Why include this detail?
You know what I would have liked to read? This exact book, but with a protagonist who gets home and takes off his binding material, cleans it, and hangs it up without going on some internal monologue about how he deserves to suffer. This book, but when someone comes around asking for someone under his deadname, he pays someone to impersonate him. This book, but having Leo escape being brutally RAPED (see: the Handmaiden, another LGBT period piece that manages, somehow, to escape this horrible trope of AFAB LGBT people always always always being sexually assaulted. And that was directed by a straight cis man!)
Like many of the gender affirming things Leo does in this book, binding doesn't have to be emotionally charged! It's just something trans people do! Yeah, it was probably harder to be trans in the Victorian period than I can possibly imagine. That doesn't mean Reeve had to make a list titled "horrible things that probably happened to trans men in the 1880s" and try and tick off every single box.
+++ SPOILERS END +++
If you're trans or LGBT in any way really, I cannot give enough of an anti-recommendation for this book. Don't buy it, don't read it. The world deserves a neat Victorian mystery taking place in London's criminal underbelly, starring a trans man. But not like this.