Hello there! Did you think this newsletter was over because I haven’t sent it in a while? Did you not even notice, but are now like “oh this is still a thing?” It is! For now? I feel like when it comes to Me Gusta, I’ve moved from a fixed lease to month-to-month—I’ll decide whether to keep it alive with each new edition. For today, it lives!
I wasn’t sure what to write about, but looking back at the last two editions, I sure made a point to stress how sad I was (and continued to be), so I thought I’d give an update: I’m less sad now! And while most of that has to do with therapy, twelve-step work, relying on my loved ones for support (thank you loved ones!), and taking a marvelous trip to Brazil, some of it also comes from stuff I liked during my sadness period—which I’m now recommending to you, in our old-school format.
A TV show: Andor
The pitch: Star Wars but way less Force and way more insurrection.
Me gusta porque: one time, when I was a kid, my dad asked me why I liked Star Wars and I said that it was because it tells the story of how a senator from a nothing planet became emperor of a whole galaxy (if that makes me sound like a weird child, boy, you have no idea). The Jedi-ness of the series never appealed to me much; I was way more interested in the scheming, which might explain why I didn’t hate the original trilogy as much as everyone else (that, and the Attack of The Clones colosseum scene, which slapped). I have not experienced much of what Disney has done with the franchise (I only watched Episode VII and was not a fan), but when I heard about Andor, I was intrigued: it seemed like a show that would focus on life under Imperial rule in all its gritty implications. And I was mostly right! While the show makes some puzzling narrative choices in the beginning, it eventually settles into a story about people living in an oppressive regime and having to decide whether to actively look away and give tacit approval to the Empire’s atrocities, or speak up—and risk ending up in prison, or worse. The show sometimes goes too far into a “serious” vibe and ends up shunning some classic Star Wars staples (there’s 90% fewer aliens than one would expect) in a way that feels snobby—but it’s a small price to pay for a show that, especially during its prison plotline, kept me on the edge of my couch.
Is this Andor the same one from Rogue One? Yes, although I’m only saying that because I read it somewhere—I have not seen Rogue One so, to me, that’s just Diego Luna (who has kept his accent for this role, which I’m 100% about).
I also have not seen Rogue One—or any Star Wars, for that matter. Can I still watch? I’d say so, yes! All you need to know is that a long time ago, in a galaxy far far away, there was an empire that was not very nice.
You had me at Stellan Skarsgård! Bless the Skarsgård family for giving us some of the scariest, yet still very magnetic, actors gracing our screens these days. While subconsciously I will always associate Stellan with his role of becoming a big pile of sea gunk in Pirates of the Caribbean, I became his fan in The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo and was very happy to see him pop up in this (terrible wigs notwithstanding).
Where can I watch it? Disney+, of course! (I wonder if someone stopped to think about how ironic it is for Disney, the real-life Galactic Empire of Hollywood, to produce this?)
I’ve already watched it! Then do what I did, and read (or re-read, in my case) V For Vendetta. I have made my love for Alan Moore known before, and this book is one of the reasons why. I wouldn’t say it’s my favorite (that would be From Hell, followed by Watchmen), but this pessimistic look at what a post-nuclear, fascist England would look like has a surprisingly tender core, with characters that have not forgotten how to love even while faced with brutality on a daily basis. My one gripe with it is its indulgence in some pedantic tendencies (it’s full of cultural references that never amused me as much as they seemed intended to), but the plot is irresistible and the art is beautiful, and I’ve never regretted revisiting it. You could also, like I did, rewatch the movie, the rare Alan Moore adaptation that doesn’t suck, in part because the Wachowskis did their own thing with the source material (something that, it’s worth noting, Alan Moore hated, but was powerless to stop—he does not own the rights to many of his comics, since DC is also a Galactic Empire, as I wrote in this short story).
A book: Kindred
The pitch: a historical drama about slavery—but with time travel!
Me gusta porque: the other day, I attended a workshop of an adrienne maree brown ritual, during which she mentioned Octavia Butler and how “everyone should read her work” because “she is a genius.” I had heard of Octavia Butler before, of course, but because she was primarily a science fiction writer, I hadn’t read her books—I have a contentious relationship with sci-fi, as its concepts usually fascinate me, but the execution of said concepts tends to really frustrate me. However, adrienne’s workshop had zero sci-fi in it, so I took her endorsement seriously and googled “Octavia Butler what book to read” once I got home, and the internet told me to read Kindred. Which, it turns out, is only sci-fi in that it involves time travel, but that’s pretty much it; the naturality with which the characters accept it, in fact, would’ve probably gotten this book classified as magical realism in other countries. More importantly, that device serves a purpose—to connect a black woman living in 1970s Los Angeles to her ancestors in an 1800s Maryland plantation—that gives the book its emotional core; we never learn why exactly the time traveling occurred, only how it works. It reminded me of Slave Play in its exploration of slavery not just as a historical fact but as a social trauma whose effects continue to be felt through every American generation—but whereas Slave Play was more interested in the present (and on provocation), Butler is also interested in the past, and the humanity of an inhumane situation. There is no character in the novel, regardless of race or social status, that Butler doesn’t approach with full curiosity, which can be quite challenging to a reader with modern values (something that is underscored by the fact that the protagonist herself must put her post-Civil Rights mindset aside to survive in a pre-abolition world). But it makes for a rewarding reading experience; like Maus, another favorite of mine, Kindred is not interested in heroes and villains, and that makes the reality it portrays a thousand times more horrific.
Did you watch the TV show? I did not—I tend to be wary of adaptations, and I have not heard anything about the show that nudges me toward watching. But if you liked it, please let me know! I’m not opposed to checking it out.
You mentioned Slave Play—are you recommending it as well? Today is not the day I share my thoughts (publicly) about Slave Play. That day, in fact, may never come—you’re on your own on this one! But, to clarify, I brought it up just because it was fresh in my mind; the American literary canon is of course full of works that explore the legacy, psychological or otherwise, of slavery. In fact, the Kindred TV show was created by Branden Jacobs-Jenkins, who also wrote a very famous play (An Octoroon) about the same issue.
Where can I read it? Wherever you get your books—in my case, the NYPL.
I’ve already read it! Then go and read Maus (I mean, take a break in the middle? These are two very emotionally heavy books). Maus has been enjoying a resurgence of sorts, both because it was banned in some schools and because there’s a new book of essays about it (which I have not read)—but there’s really no right time to read it. It’s a timeless classic! Art Spiegelman weaves a tale with pictures and words that is both highly specific (it tells the story of his parents before, during, and after the Holocaust) and universal in its exploration of what humans are capable of to survive. And, you know, it’s the first graphic novel to ever win a Pulitzer—no biggie.
A podcast: My Dad Wrote A Porno
The pitch: an audiobook that’s also amateur porn, written by the narrator’s father. Hilarity ensues!
Me gusta porque: I’ve recommended this before, and it’s no wonder: I’ve listened to this podcast many many times over, particularly when I’m sad—it never fails to perk me up. The pornographic book (or rather book series) at its core is the result of host Jamie Morton’s father’s attempt to cash in on the 50 Shades Of Gray mania. Rocky, as the author calls himself, did not quite succeed in his endeavor; his Belinda Blinked novels are closer to a pubescent boy’s conception of sex than to what would turn most human adults on. But Morton and his cohosts, Alice Levine and James Cooper, spin it into gold as they read it out loud, one chapter an episode. Not only do they react to the book’s nonsensical plot and awkward sex scenes with sassiness (or, sometimes, just plain common sense), they also constantly get lost on tangents related to their own history as friends (the three met in college). Eventually, they start bringing in guests for mid-week episodes called “Footnotes”—and it speaks to just how good the whole thing is that people like Emma Thompson and Lin-Manuel Miranda not only got hooked on the podcast but agreed to be a part of it! The biggest guest of all, Rocky himself, though, appears in the finale, which I have yet to hear—I’m preparing myself by listening to the whole thing one more time (and I doubt it’ll be the last).
Did you actually read the books? Nope, just heard the podcast. If you wanna buy the annotated edition for me, though, please go ahead! I’d love it.
Did you watch the HBO special? I did! Not as much fun for me, though—one of the things I like the most about the podcast is the intimacy of the recordings, which gets lost in front of an audience. I would go to a live show if you bought my tickets, though!
Why do you keep asking me to buy you things? Because my birthday is coming up—see below for details!
Where can I listen to it? Wherever you get your podcasts—in my case, Spotify.
I’ve already listened to it! They couldn’t be more different, but if the category is “things I’ve heard/watched over and over because they never fail to pick me up,” then my rec is Brooklyn 99, which I am in fact currently rewatching. The cast is amazing and the writing feels instantly familiar (it’s from the creators of Parks and Rec); how you’ll like some of the plotlines, though, will depend on your feelings about the police (in fact, the series’ final season, which aired in 2021, tried to speak to the national debate around policing and, in my opinion, did not quite succeed). But the comradery on display is undeniable, and I’m always excited to click the “next episode” button at the end.
Also: it’s my birthday soon!
In less than a fortnight (when I’d ostensibly send a new edition of this newsletter), I’ll be turning 33! Yes, that’s right, my Jesus year is upon us, and how better to celebrate such a momentous occasion than by sending me money so I can buy material manifestations of your love? I’m at @notrealmendoza on Venmo, CashApp, and Paypal.