redshift

She was the most beautiful boy I had ever seen in my life.

Girl meets boy by Ali Smith is a retelling/reinterpretation of the Myth of Iphis, from Ovid. It’s a love story, between boys and girls, girls and girls, people and other people. It’s a political story. It’s a story about gender and identity and self. It’s a story with a lot of joy and affection and kindness to it, and it’s a story that sometimes defies categories and definitions. The proper word for me, Robin Goodman says, is me. Which is, really, one of those moments which to me feels precisely right. This book did that to me quite a bit.

True, it would have been nice if it was longer, with more about some of the characters. But if that’s the worst I can find to say then I’m sure someone is doing something very right.

They looked old in the photo, I could see that now. They looked like two old people. Their features were soft. He looked smooth, sweet-faced, almost girlish. She looked strong, clear-boned, like a smiling young man from some Second World War film had climbed inside an older skin. They looked wise. They looked like people who didn’t mind, who were wise to how little time was left.