5 Star Book Review: The Stardust Grail by Yume Kitasei

My Goodreads, if you wanna be friends. :) 

"The Stardust Grail" is not just an "Indiana-Jones" style adventure. It's so much more than that. I've rarely finished a book in the past 2 years, so with that said, this had to be the first book I've finished in a very long time, especially in 4 sittings.

Where do I even BEGIN? I will keep this spoiler-free.

A young woman who is now is a PhD student in museum studies used to be a museum thief for alien civilizations, performing heists on different planets and museums in order to return prized artifacts back to their respective origins. Isn't that fucking anti-colonial? AMAZING. Isn't it just? YES. And this time, her old alien-octopus best best friend's alien species is in danger, and it will be up to Maya Hoshimoto to decide if she wants to go on one last heist to retrieve the object that would save her friend's species, but in turn, that may "condemn humanity" if she ends up choosing her friends' species over her own. LIKE, THE TENSION?! EXSQUEEZE ME?!

Mark my words, Kitasei is one of the most imaginative and incredible science fiction authors out there. Not only is her world vastly believable and I could just tell, how beautiful it must be. I kept wanting to jump onto these planets myself where she describes there are only forever oceans. It's the kind of worlds one can only dream of (AND GOSH I DEFINITELY CAN'T WAIT TO DREAM MYSELF ON HER PLANETS ONE DAY LMAOAOAO) and sunsets, atmospheres, and different alien species that I can see so vividly. I've read Sci-Fi before so I'm not new to the genre when I say that her world building, unforgettable characters, character development, pacing, imagination (the fucking FUCKING DETAILS ARE ARTISTRY incarNATE. I CAN SEE EVERYTHING IN PAINTINGS AND ACHE AND MY MASSIVE BOOK HANGOVER RIGHT NOW is HITTING ME FUCKKKK), writing, and overall themes (AND SO MUCH FRIENDSHIP <3 the friendship == family theme ahhh) is down with the stroke of someone who has put incredible AND MASSIVE thought and is truly skilled at their writing craft.

Because why else did I find myself unable to stop last night?

But the thing that I really can't wait to speak more on is the complexity of her world, because on the backdrop of such incredible world building and interspecies relationships, conflicts, histories and lore. The complexity of humanity and the existential questions that Kitasei explores will continue to haunt me: Are we really appreciative of our current Earth right now as much as we are of the worlds beyond our Earth? Is it fear and misunderstanding of different (alien) cultures that lead to eruptions of war and genocide? Are we really so so other to each other that we cannot find a collective consciousness? And if there is a collective consciousness or if we don't share similar bodies or beliefs, what is the theory of common existence --- what is the common seed of understanding that no matter how different you and I are, might we share and might we always fully accept and see in each other?

Not only that but her exploration of class, the role that museums and educational institutions play in extending and justifying colonialism of other peoples' technologies, way of life, that through so much excavating and taking for the sake of "knowledge-gathering" and "science" (ESPECIALLY FOR ANYONE THAT SAYS "FOR SCIENCE"), the retrieved "materials" end up in museums, studied til they're ghosts of the objects they once were and unreturned to where they came from.

Through the act of taking, Kitasei re-imagines colonialism on the interstellar level. The taking and condemning of knowledge and resources versus the interdependent sharing of knowledge.

The reference to "The Whole" and how Auncle (our main character's octopus friend) can connect with the greater consciousness feels so Buddhist to me. That alien creatures can be so enlightened that they can tap into each other spiritually and talk to each other across generations, like Auncle can tap into slithers of the past voices of those before Xer through meditations and sleep. Is that a science in our bodies that we already have though? Gosh, isn't it so gangster of Kitasei to imply such beautiful existences? That we can exist amongst all pasts and futures and be so enlightened as a species, not as beings, but as a SPECIES. fuck.

<3

This book is ground breaking and I am just fucking surprised it's not spoken of more. Like, how can this book be on such the down low, because now I feel like I've found a gem.

The use of pronouns as well was perfect. Since alien species don't have traditional genders, many of them go by Xer or Heir, because damn, that would totally make sense! Just details on gender, and class, and consciousness that again, make Kitasei such a thought-provoking and spearheader of the re-imaginings of science fiction and humanity. HUMANITY.

I'm so glad I found this book in my local library, in a very Caucasian majority town ahhhh!! It was unassuming but the chances are, with a cover as gorgeous as this and a title as beautiful as "The Stardust Grail", I was instantly curious. The synopsis had me hooked just in the first 10 seconds of holding it and gosh, I just knew. I knew it would be a win.

I can't wait to read her other work: "The Deep Sky".

AND ALSO WRITE HER A BUNCH OF FAN MAIL.

Because oh my god. BIGGEST FUCKING FAN. I have so much to think about right now.

I also.... wow. I can still see the Wonder space ship and Auncle and the ocean planet in my head still. It feels like I'll be haunted forever.

a thankfulness

When someone asks you, "what if I become a bad boyfriend one day?" 

Believe them. It's a choice they're preparing for. 

It's a choice to slowly disappear.

So do it. 

Disappear.

There was no anger. Or resentment. Or hope. 

I did my best not to stay up wondering or rethinking.

Or cry the first month, because what was the point?

In being vulnerable with my sister and best friend, I shared that I had--

I had done the thing I said I'd never do on the last phone call in our lives ever:

which was to plead for someone I loved to stay.

"Because I want you."

Gosh, I'm so cringey.

If I had to give someone a reason to stay...

then they shouldn't stay at all.

I never want to do that again.

I never want to fight harder than someone for what we should both equally want.

I felt very small in those moments, still gripping onto the ship sailing anywhere, 

but back to me.

I can't do that to myself ever again.

The only good that came of my own last words was how pure they were.

I fought so honestly and bravely. 

No regrets. I said everything that needed to be said. 

And I let myself love so hard, even as he pulled away.

The moment came, just in time, when I closed my own door and leaned against it.

I hope that one day, in the next chapter of my long life, that someone will fight for me 

as readily as I did for this person. 

I hope that all the love I've given away 

will come back to me in millions.

I hope that the someone I'll know in that future could courageously 

say the word that holds every responsibility, 

that he say it with such purity and abundance, 

like breathing still air on an ocean planet, that I would shake.

That I would know, it's the kind of _ _ _ _  that would never betray my hopes,

and would remember me, all my favorite little things, 

like how very much I'd like to hold flowers on a little stroll,

or how very much I like surprises, all sorts, 

how I like to comfort myself when I'm sad or what it means when I say that 

"I feel small right now".

The kind of _ _ _ _ that belongs to me too easily,

it would feel like home.

Grip and tug me back if I've gone too far.

Be too easy, too transparent, to really be part of real life.

Be protective. Be vast.

Envelope all the other loves and lives

I thought I ever knew about.

And I would have it as equally in return, ready to give again.

I'm not afraid to _ _ _ _. Ever. What a silly woman I am, if I was.

I'll always wear my heart on my sleeve. That would never go away. 

And I hope that all the love I've given away

was never given away. That I always had enough and more 

for the little miss bean that wanted everything.

 

I worked the last 3 months to reshape and conquer the last two feelings I had:

the sadness and love,

into one last feeling.

It's the only feeling I have left now:

Compassion. 

Compassion for who were when we met each other. 

A fire ball of laughter and hand holding and sweetness that made my belly so warm.

Eyes that saw me for who I was and who I wanted to be.

And if I have any hope now, it's the hope that we will be beyond happy in all the futures we'll have and cannot even begin to imagine yet.

As our ships dock in their respective places in the world, 

as the sun sets on ocean planets,

and as the last candle on the ship burns off,

I let my hands drop to my sides. I close my eyes and breathe in the perfumed night air.

A peach, coconut, salty allure.

The moon would shine like a humungous speckled star. That anyone from any part of the world could see at the same time and want a name for.

And hear at that same instance, the whales so playful and so silly, and if zoomed closer, my heart beat.

And if I listened even beyond my heart beat, I would hear the last sound:

a thankfulness,

breathing freely.

after the storm

Dandelions grow, after the storm. 

Rain like wine, living in puddles, for birds to bathe in.

The thickest clouds gone, thinned down to nothing. 

After the storm, the elder on the front porch of a bright yellow house stops rocking in his chair. An "umph" on the getting up. An agile toss of rice to the birds below. "Shhrrrah" goes the rice. Two dogs play far from it, tossing each other in the grass.

A familiar truck passes the small home on Japonica Street. Two little girls sit in the back. A dark hand holds a lit cigarette and darker lungs puff out smoky breaths.

The red truck moves on, along with the girls in it, who both wonder similar things about that elder on the front porch. "The bird-feeding elder. I wonder what he's thinking outside on his chair, even when it's so hot."

5 years passed since. Then 10 years pass.

Long after the elder is gone, no longer on that porch, a stranger to everyone involved, the questions linger. "Was he ever waiting on anyone, past 5 pm?"

The older girl, Ngoc, at 11, learns about imperfect memory. The more you replay a memory, the less accurate it is each time. You keep cherry-picking the best and worst parts, until that memory is no longer true. As time passes, memory transforms into story. A fiction film.

A story best served on a blog.

The littler girl, Yen, just knows she doesn't want to be like her older sister, who's always living in her head. Yen wants to do the thing, act the thing, become the thing. Nothing moves if you keep thinking. Things move when you act on it. And live so well that there's no one's validation to achieve but her own.

So what does that old man on the porch ponder about? How does he live his life?

As if time has slowed? As if you don't have to move or act on anything, as long as you have a place on your own porch?

What joy could there be, sitting there feeding birds every evening? So that two little girls can wonder about you when you're no longer there?

***

It's Ngoc here. In 2025. 

I don't have my own porch. There's too much snow to feed birds on a day like today.

At least 4 inches of snow now. Enough for my county to label it a Level 3 Emergency. "If you're on the road, you're going to jail." Enough snow for my bank to call it a Snow Day, for me to stay home.

My little Subaru is blanketed in white. I don't have a shovel. It's 22 outside.

I haven't turned on the heat. 

I don't need heat right now, when tea did the job. I made myself brown rice green tea. The aroma of the rice is nutty and the green tea is caffeine-y. Thanks to Cayla, I now have a water kettle to make it. 

For many seconds, time slowed as I hovered above my tea. Its scent, the sight of snow outside, my favorite blue sweater draped on me -- I'm in my own body enjoying this amazing tea.

Snow has fallen all night. And snow will fall all day today. And I don't have a shovel.

I opened all my blinds. All four corners of the room, I have a bird's view of my neighborhood. How beautiful in white this little place is.

I'm in a movie town. Truly. You'll have to visit me. I'll show you.

And though it should be too cold for birds to be out, they are. 

They were literally playing in the snow. Perhaps the softest, fluffiest parts of the snow.

Which reminds me, it's official. 

Maeghen, Austin, and I are going to a drag show circus. I got so excited, I even invited my landlord with me, who though did not accept the invite, is excited to hear all about it after.

I didn't know Marietta was the kind of town a drag circus would pull through.

Gosh. 

Wow. 

I don't know a lot of things.

I can't wait to FEEL YOUNG AGAIN.

For now, I am accessing the "old man on the porch" in me and enjoying this movie-snow-white town. In the comfort of my apartment.

My new pink gaming chair, fresh from Cayla's apartment too, haha. I'll be on it today playing League, with new friends I made on the bus ride home from Columbus.

It seems I have a knack for it. Making new friends, new plans wherever I go.

Which is very much, the old me. The girl who always had a plan. Always had a place to be and a person to be with. 

Today, the newer-ish me, I am simply here. In my lovely apartment. My clean, clean kitchen. Gosh, how proud I am. How waking up, walking into my clean kitchen to make this damn good tea and just so fucking thankful to yesterday's me for being a good girl.

I am the goodest girl.

GOOD BEAN.

*sigh*

After the storm of getting to Marietta, I'm finally in the fun part. The part where birds play in the puddles left behind.

The part where the old man comes out and enjoys the tea of his own mind. The tea of our Southeast Houston neighborhood. The tea that is the sun, his own dogs. Perhaps replaying films of a life well-loved.

Just like I am, enjoying the tea of my still-here Christmas Tree. The tea of having all my painting utensils ready, a beautiful calendar to write on. The tea of pretty washi-tape to reinforce the edges of my books. The tea that is the snow, so abundant, that I can be home today. 

Haha, this reminds me of my high school days. There was a freeze that lasted so long that we had 2-3 days back-to-back snow days. It was the best.

The absolute best, waking up, and getting news that we can stay in bed as late as we wanted. Young little beans, Yen and I.

So I did. I smiled hard into my pillow today, after texting my boss that I can't make it, and her quick response that, "Agreed. Best for tomorrow then! Stay safe!"

Oh, I'm safe alright. ^--^