‘Luster’: A 2020 release about race, class, sex, and growing up.
By Hazel Walrod, ‘22
Content warning: This book review mentions possibly triggering subjects such as sex, abortion, and racism.
In Raven Leilani’s novel ‘Luster,’ she paints a gritty picture of New York City, young womanhood, and how race, class, and gender intersect in one woman’s experience. This book was emotionally challenging and hard to unpack, but I felt the story was refreshing and uniquely narrated.
It is important to note that I am white critiquing a Black author’s work, and coming from a different cultural perspective.
‘Luster’ follows a young Black woman named Edie who lives in a shabby apartment in New York City and dreams of becoming a painter, while making increasingly questionable sexual decisions. When she begins a courtship with a white man in an open marriage, she finds herself becoming tangled into his family’s life.
This book is not for everyone, especially not those sensitive to sexual themes. The opening line reads, “The first time we have sex, we are both fully clothed, at our desks during working hours, bathed in blue computer light.” Leilani is not afraid to use sex as a way to explore power dynamics, femininity, and workplace politics. Even in uncomfortable moments, I think this novel works because of this aspect. You can see the main character struggling and using her sexual relationships in order to escape her internal crisis, letting men use their power for her own self-deprecation.
The reviews of the book on Goodreads, a popular book-reviewing website, were mixed.
Goodreads user Miranda Reads rated it one star, writing, “This was miserable to read for me.”
User Erin, however, raved about the book, saying, “Luster is everything. It's mean-spirited, funny, brutally smart, and sad. Raven Leilani's writing reminds me of Gillian Flynn. Like Flynn, Leilani's writing is sharp and raw. Both women write complex and unlikable women so well.”
Leilani’s prose is undeniably beautiful, but is not always accessible or necessary. Throughout the book, I was confronted by long run-on sentences that felt as if a friend was narrating a story frantically, without ever stopping for air or finishing a thought. This style of prose fits perfectly into its genre of literary fiction, and to me is reminiscent of books such as ‘Such A Fun Age,’ ‘Normal People,’ ‘Writers & Lovers,’ and ‘My Year of Rest and Relaxation.’ All are stylistically and poetically written, exploring deep themes of mental health, female sexuality, work, privilege, and power dynamics. If you enjoyed one of these other novels, I would recommend picking up ‘Luster.’
This passage to me perfectly encapsulates the majesty of Leilani’s writing.
Note: It does contain light spoilers.
“I think I could have this baby out of spite. My parents made me on purpose and look what happened. Spite is more sustainable. It gives you something to prove, and what better way to prove yourself than through a child, my personal failure amended by such heroic child-rearing that my kid recognizes patterns even before his skull has fused. A genius child born out of a functional grudge who will accompany me to Eric’s funeral, where Rebecca will be shriveled and veiled. When I begin to braid my hair, she watches me, and I try to remain aloof, but I am a little preoccupied with the memory of my first abortion, which I don’t think about regularly and occasionally even forget until I open Twitter and have a run-in with a Young Republican. I was sixteen. I could not have been a mother. The women in my family maybe should not have been mothers. This is not so much a judgment as a fact. They were dying inside their own bodies, and now all these dead components are my inheritance.”
Another notable aspect of this book was Edie’s complex relationships between women. Much of the book is Edie observing and interacting with Rebecca, Eric’s wife, and Akila, their adopted Black daughter. This provides an opportunity for commentary on growing up Black in the suburbs surrounded by white people, and the importance of community. Edie becomes something of a mentor to Akila, even while she is an intruder in their lives and having an unwanted affair with Akila’s father. I think the theme of Blackness in white spaces was unapologetic and educational, while still holding on to a hint of humor and irony.
What I appreciate most about this book is also what I disliked most about it: Leilani does not hold back. This story is sad, dark, and very honest. However, it also is not always the most enjoyable read.
Consider this passage, for example. Edie is referencing the only other Black woman who works at her office, Aria.
“When she found me, when we looked at each other that first time, finally released from our respective tokenism, I felt incredible relief.
And then I miscalculated. Too much anger shared too soon. Too much can you believe these white people. Too much f--- the police. We both graduated from the school of Twice as Good for Half as Much, but I’m sure she still finds this an acceptable price of admission. She still rearranges herself, waiting to be chosen. And she will be. Because it is an art -- to be Black and dogged and inoffensive. She is all these things and she is embarrassed that I am not.”
Here, Edie brings down this other woman, showcasing the complicated workplace and social dynamics of being a Black woman and trying to make it somewhere. Edie is not a perfect, politically correct feminist, and she is also at times not a good person. But to me, the point of this book is to see how messy young adult life is and how easy it is to become lost and desperate.
If you are considering picking up ‘Luster,’ make sure the book is appropriate for you first. It includes suicide, discussions of abortion, sex, racism, dead bodies, police brutality, racial slurs, and calorie-counting.