Amplitudes: Stories of Queer and Trans Futurity – A Reflection on Hope and Futurity
When I first came across Amplitudes: Stories of Queer and Trans Futurity, edited by Lee Mandelo, the title alone sparked my curiosity. A collection promising a glimpse into hopeful queer and trans futures had me dreaming of rich narratives that break boundaries and forge paths to brighter tomorrows. However, as I started reading, the vibrant visions I anticipated became muddied in a sea of disappointment and frustration.
Mandelo’s introduction sets the stage for what is supposed to be an optimistic exploration of queer futures amid a troubling world. Yet, as I ventured through the pages, I often wondered if I had missed something in translation. Here lies a mix of narratives that range from thought-provoking to bewilderingly bleak, leaving me grappling with a disconnect between the initial promise and the delivered content.
In total, the anthology contains twenty-two stories, but only a handful illuminate the hopeful futures they aim to portray. I’d say about six stories genuinely grasp the brief they were given, and the remaining narratives either succumbed to frustration or settled into plotless ennui. The emotional volatility I experienced can’t be overstated; on one side, I found gems like “The Republic of Ecstatic Consent,” exploring a poignant commune striving for a fresh future, and “The Orgasm Doula,” an intriguingly playful yet unsettling take on intimacy in a world rife with scarcity. But on the other side, I encountered perplexing tales that felt as if they looped back into the very struggles we strive to escape, raising questions about whether this collection truly honors its theme.
What resonates profoundly is the lack of characterization in many stories, leaving us with skeletal plots and non-endings. For instance, one story features a tender will-they-won’t-they dynamic that ultimately dissolves into unresolved tension. Such choices, while perhaps artistically valid, left me yearning for narratives that uplifted rather than confirmed our darkest fears around queer existence.
Now, I can’t ignore the moments that provoke strong emotional reactions, even if they veer into discomfort. “Bang Bang,” the final story, struck me as painfully ironic; how could a collection about hopeful queer futures close with a narrative that depicts a violence-ridden club in a technologically advanced society? This juxtaposition of near-futuristic advancements alongside perpetual danger feels like a punch to the gut when placed at the end.
Throughout my readings, I often found myself reflecting on the collection’s title, “Amplitudes.” While the term evokes the idea of extremes in an oscillating motion, the disconnect between the anthology’s promised hope and the harsh realities presented left me wondering—am I reading the stories that reach for imaginative vibrancy, or am I bogged down by oppressive reiterations of our current contexts?
For those who appreciate introspective literature, Amplitudes may shine in its incentive to confront harsh realities, but if you’re seeking narratives that genuinely explore joyful queer and trans futures, you might want to look elsewhere. The collection serves as a harrowing reminder that hope can be intertwined with struggle—but let’s be clear: we deserve more than tales that indulge in our fears.
In conclusion, if you’re in the mood for a complex exploration of future narratives that challenge while inciting anger and frustration, you might find Amplitudes to be a compelling read. However, if you’re looking for genuine hope and delight, I recommend seeking collections like Scheherazade’s Façade or Kaleidoscope. Readers like me, hoping to explore the vibrant possibilities of queer and trans futures instead of getting mired in pessimism, will find solace in those pages. Ultimately, we must continue striving, creating, and dreaming larger possibilities beyond these confines.
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