I liked to stay up late after everyone went to bed and watch Queer as Folk on my kokum’s TV. As soon as the book opens, he lets readers know what they’re in for: “I figured out I was gay when I was eight. Perhaps the most refreshing part of this book is the frankness with which Whitehead writes about sex – particularly queer sex. It’s home because it has to be – routine satiates these pangs.” “It’s not glamorous like Julia Roberts makes it seem.” What’s particularly beautiful is the way that Whitehead writes about the rez, the way it’s imbued with such care and open-eyed clarity: “Even in the 21st century, two brown boys can’t fall in love on the rez.… But it’s home because the bannock is still browning in the oven and your kokum is still making tea and eating Arrowroot biscuits. When Jonny talks about the decision to leave his rez, it’s clear that he feels conflicted. Whitehead doesn’t just write about love of people, but also places. Long after I finished the book, I found myself missing these characters. In other words, they feel like real people. Each character has hopes, dreams, vulnerabilities, regrets.

All of them are complicated, dealing with their own traumas in various ways, but they’re never only their traumas, which is important.

Every character in this book is portrayed with empathy and understanding – from Jonny’s Momma, to his kokum (or grandmother), to his best friend/lover Tias, to Tias’s girlfriend (and, eventually, Jonny’s good friend) Jordan. Complicated love, messy love, nourishing love, platonic love, sexual love, familial love, secret love. Love, in all its forms, permeates this novel.

Jonny appleseed joshua whitehead