Last month I mentioned I’d been planning on writing something – short, I thought at the time! – about music, writing, and playlists. I made a start on that this month, and it almost immediately morphed into something bigger and more personal, and almost certainly too long for a single newsletter. I expect it will emerge eventually, maybe split over a couple of instalments.
So, you’re spared the story of my youthful Manic Street Preachers obsession for a little while longer. But for now, rather than do another month of nothing but updates, I thought I’d talk about a book I read and loved recently, Esther Yi’s Y/N.
For the uninitiated, ‘y/n’ is a fanfiction term, taken from what’s sometimes called 'self-insert' or 'readerfic' – fanfiction where the reader is invited to imagine themselves encountering, and often having a sexual or romantic relationship with, the object of their adoration. ‘Y/n’, inserted in place of a character name, stands for ‘your/name’.
I’ll admit to an instinctive ‘Ick!’ reaction to self-insert fanfic (perhaps that’s a symptom of not-like-other-girls syndrome – none of us are immune! – but I suspect it’s not uncommon) so I’m not really sure how that... works. Do people copy the story onto their own computers and find+replace ‘y/n’ with their own name, so the story reads smoothly? Or do they read it as-is, and keep stumbling over that clumsy placeholder? It seems like an awkward, intrusive way to read, but Y/N makes a virtue of that.
I’ve read a number of novels concerned with fans and fandom over the years, ranging from lively, believable portraits of characters who happen to be involved in that world (Anna Bowles’ Rapids) to tasteless fantasies that probably ought to have remained on AO3 (Britta Lundin’s Ship It, P-P Hartnett’s Rock ‘n’ Roll Suicide). Y/N is by far the strangest, and the most estranging. Though published as contemporary litfic, it’s far from mimetic, and by its end has journeyed far enough into dream-logic that it feels fabulist despite the absence of speculative elements.
On the surface, the plot is fairly simple. A young Korean-American woman living in Berlin becomes obsessed with Moon, a K-Pop idol. She goes along to a fan meetup, but finds herself disturbed by the idea that what feels like her own, singular fixation is shared by others. Eventually, she begins to write self-insert fanfiction, but this isn’t the story of a budding romance with her idol. Rather, the Y/N in her story chooses to give up her intimate relationship with Moon, stepping back from the role of partner into that of fan. Meanwhile, in the real world, Moon abruptly leaves the boy band of which he’s a member and retires from public life, leading the unnamed narrator to leave Berlin for Seoul to track him down.
Reviews of Y/N I’ve read online criticise its lack of realism, its difficult language, the fact that its dialogue doesn’t sound like real conversation. For me, all those things were strengths. Y/N works to capture a deeply weird, deeply internal experience that bears little relation even to its supposed object of obsession, and once you stop expecting realism from it, it does that beautifully.
The narrator’s obsession with Moon is sparked by a dance move. The language the book uses around the body is strange, offputting, sometimes anatomically improbable. It stretches and strains in the attempt to convey something purely physical, beyond the bounds of words. The human body ought to be familiar territory, but the distancing effect here mirrors the careful way the narrator keeps her distance from the object of her fixation – even as she attempts to hunt him down.
At the same time, the body is the site of the narrator’s closest relationship to Moon. More than once, she’s told that she resembles him, and at one point she even inhabits his persona, cosplaying as him at a fan event where other fans, overcome with emotion, treat her as though she is Moon. There’s a slipperiness of selfhood here, a malleability, that culminates in a search for Moon that becomes a dreamlike internal quest.
After all, a celebrity persona is very different from a real person. Even those closest to us, in real life, have unknowable sides. A celebrity persona, on the other hand, is a white canvas, designed for projection. It can contain very little other than what we bring to it. The narrator’s hesitance to get to close to Moon, even in her fantasies, suggests that on some level, she knows this. Ultimately, all her writing and seeking leads her back to herself – albeit a version of herself made strange by the journey.
Y/N is a weird, thorny, alienating book. I couldn’t help comparing it, while reading, to Rin Usami’s Idol, Burning, another recent novel with very similar subject matter. Idol, Burning is very readable, far more straightforward, and perhaps more obviously inviting, but its narrator’s clear self-awareness leaves little room for active reading. Y/N, with its tangles and obscurities, allows the reader to enter into an odd, unyielding fantasy world, and I find that far more compelling.
Writing news: I actually have some this month!
My story “Diamonds and Pearls” was first published in Fireside in 2021. It’s one of the most personal things I’ve written, a slightly fabulist take on the experience of learning Welsh as an adult. It’s now available on the fantasy fiction podcast PodCastle, with wonderful narration by Jordan Price Williams – listen on the website or the usual podcast platforms.
I also have a new essay up at New Welsh Review (subscribers only, I’m afraid!) in which I review a number of recent novels that deal with themes of power, silence, and communication. My favourite of them was Eluned Gramich’s Windstill, which I’ve mentioned here before – a wonderful, complex, humane novel about a young woman exploring her family’s dark past.
Coming up, my short story “Sunny Side Up” was shortlisted for the Rhys Davies Short Story Competition, and will be published in the competition anthology, out on October 12th. I’ll be heading to the launch at Swansea Waterstones at 6 PM – perhaps I’ll see you there?
I’ll also be reading from The Word as part of the Strong Women Strange Worlds Quick Reads series on October 19th. It’s at midnight, UK time (so expect a slightly hollow-eyed Jess), or if you’re across the pond, the rather more civilised hour of 7 PM Eastern Time.
What I've been reading
Despite my occasionally chippy Welshness, I am a sucker for a good magical London story. After being disappointed by the first couple of Alex Verus books, I found
a breath of fresh air, with a spoonful of grit and some wonderfully inventive magical creatures. The downside is, it takes on some pretty heavy subject matter (child abuse) and IMO handles it a bit clumsily. That said, I liked the world enough I'll probably check out the next in the series.
What I've been watching
I've been missing
The Boys,
and we binge-watched the first three episodes of spinoff series
Gen V
in one sitting. It's just as bloody and irreverant as its parent show, albeit with (slightly) more likeable characters. Also, nice to see Eric Kripke continuing his charitable mission to employ every former member of the
Supernatural
cast with a cameo from Alexander Calvert.
What I've been listening to
Is something missing from your life? Could it be Atari Teenage Riot meets The Prodigy fronted by two hyperactive Northerners in fishnet body stockings? Well, if you don't go check out
, you'll never know.
That's all from me this month. 'Til next time.
JL