Review: Teach the Torches to Burn

 

(NetGalley eARC)

This is exactly what a retelling should be. One of the challenges that has cropped up with this series of retellings – and all queer retellings – is how to write a queer retelling of a tragedy critiquing humanity’s greatest flaws that’s really just kind of a bummer…without falling into the age-old trap of “bury your gays.” Too much deviation from the original, and you lose the emotional and intellectual core of the story – some of you might remember my frustration with the Great Gatsby retelling earlier in this series. Too loyal to the original, and not only have you not created anything new but you’ve also bought into one of the most insidious, heart-breaking ways that our society tells queer people our existence is inherently a joyless burden. Without getting into spoiler territory, I just want to say: this book absolutely nailed the balancing act.

Fundamentally, Romeo and Juliet is a story about young people who are so trapped by their parents and society and what’s expected of them that they’re forced into horrible positions and decisions, pinned between who they are and those who should love them. The author’s note puts it beautifully, writing “it is, at its core, the story of two young people who are so neglected and manipulated by their selfish, self-involved parents that their lives end in senseless and unavoidable tragedy [...] we disrespect our children’s self-determination at great peril to their safety.” This statement beautifully captures the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet’s story, and although this book doesn’t follow Shakespeare’s original blow for blow, it absolutely conveys the same meaning.

I do, however, think it would be remiss to end this review without pointing out the lack of racial diversity here. The author himself observes that Romeo and Juliet is based on Shakespeare’s rather romanticized version of historical Italy, and as we know, Italy is located on the Mediterranean, a hub of trade with the Middle East and North Africa (ironically, Shakespeare himself wrote about this in “Othello,” which is some analysis that there just isn’t room for in this review). There was absolutely room for non-white characters in this book, and – unless I missed a description – they were not given that room. I still really enjoyed the book, but it’s important to keep in mind intersectionality and the obligation white authors, even those with marginalized identities, have to be aware of their privilege and how they use it in their work.