Dykette: A Novel

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There wasn’t quite the same degree of drama and lies and jealousy, but that was a major turning point in terms of choosing the week upstate as the container for the book. A modern day bourgeois comedy of manners, that follows three couples of brooklyn-dykes on a winter holiday on Long Island.

I’ve dated lost bois who aren’t looking for a girlfriend or even a wife, but a mother figure to cook and clean and organize their lives for them while they fuck other people on the side. During a conversation about who will care for them when they all get old, Jesse remembers that the lesbian filmmaker Phoebe Livingston’s friends signed up in shifts to give her sponge baths when she was dying. I almost DNF because it was so bizarre and arbitrary but there was just enough curiosity in me that wanted to find out what the point of all of it was.What's important here, for me, because I'm sure the queer community is already familiar, is learning so many terms and nuances that go on between relationships. This novel is written in one semicolorful declarative sentence after another and there is honestly something appealing about the pah-pah-pah rhythm set up by this kind of prose, like the appeal of reading something written by a teenager who draws little hearts above the i’s instead of a dot, and although I found the story pointless and shallow maybe it’s purposefully pointless and shallow, like those pop art Campbell soup cans that were already passé the first time you saw one, and although this novel is not as interesting as the arrangement of old chewing gums you happen to notice on the sidewalk as you’re walking along, it almost is.

We sense danger ahead in the form of rage, want, and need, bubbling up through the constant display of startling aggression. This is quickly confirmed as Darcy the Internet Influencer takes center stage and anything else she can take. It’s time to be an adult, to be normal,” seethes Sasha, the titular “dykette” in Jenny Fran Davis’s queer zillennial comedy of manners.Jenny Fran Davis shows up to our interview with, as promised, a prime piece of book swag: a white baseball cap with Dykette, the name of her forthcoming novel out May 16, in hot pink cursive along the front.

A hilarious, astute, and captivating tour of a young femme’s interior life over the course of one long weekend upstate. Then, suddenly, the final 100 pages took an absolutely wild turn and gave me all of the unraveling and messiness I was expecting in the first half.Davis’s characters slink off the page, bewitching, seducing, snuggling up in your lap to whisper stories of our tender, bungled humanity. For example, this moment: "She couldn't believe straight girls made such a big deal about never faking it, like faking it was anti-feminist. All of the kitchen tools back in Jesse’s Brooklyn apartment were green: cheese grater, knife, teakettle.