Review: Somebody Told Me

Somebody Told Me by Mia Siegert
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Major trigger warnings for this book: queerphobia in many forms (especially trans- and enbyphobia), sexual assault, pedophilia, suicide. 

Years after giving the world Jerkbait, Mia Siegert returns with a new #ownvoices novel, presenting us with a bigender protagonist: Aleks/Alexis, who uses either name depending on which gender they are at the moment. Sometimes that gender flips from day to day, sometimes in the middle of the day. Either way, though, Aleks/Alexis is plagued with a terrible inner monologue, dishing out painful needle-under-the-thumbnail insults and calling up as many painful memories as possible. 

Alexis doubts herself all the time, believing that she's an ugly and unlovable creature. Except maybe when she's in some anime cosplay, and especially when Aleks is the one wearing the cosplay. He's outgoing where she draws inward at every turn, a heartbreaker when she's usually the one too broken in her heart. Still, though, there was the time when a few fans took things a little too far at the last con, overwhelming boundaries in the most vomitous of ways, literally. And when a certain boyfriend got exposed as a hateful piece of crap in serious need of therapy. 

That's why Aleks/Alexis has gone to live with Uncle Bryan, a Catholic priest, and Aunt Anne Marie. (As a recovering Catholic, it did turn my head a bit that Uncle Bryan was married, but Siegert correctly notes that married priests from certain other denominations may become Catholic priests and retain their marriages. I guess I must be pretty well-recovered to not know that.) But Aleks/Alexis has some past trauma to escape, some new friends to make: Sister Bernadette, young clergy Joey and Dima, all of whom each have a thing or two in common with Aleks/Alexis - they're either anime fans, Russian-American, queer (and quite disgusted by Uncle Bryan's homophobic and transphobic screeds in his homilies), or some combination thereof. 

And a few confessions to listen in on when Uncle Bryan's taking them, because the air vent in Aleks/Alexis's closet happens to carry that sound over. And, inspired by the angel Raziel from a favorite anime, Aleks/Alexis takes on the task of researching these parishioners and figuring out how best to anonymously help them through their struggles. 

And then comes the worst possible confession - which, frankly, I guessed was coming right from the moment Siegert announced this book. But while Siegert doesn't shy away from the Catholic Church's notorious problem of allowing pedophilia to fester within its ranks, that's not the only message this book has to offer - it's also all about how the church can still offer spiritual salvation, and that there are those who are as truly godly as it gets no matter how backwards the old rules may be. 

I really appreciated this book on the recovering-Catholic level, especially for its positive points about spirituality - one that I really want to keep to heart, even as I've largely soured on religion and even God himself. And though I was never involved enough in the church to really be exposed to any pedophiles (my parents feel they made the right call not encouraging me to be an altar boy or anything), I did later hear idle speculation about the creepy nature of one priest from my childhood, and read an article accusing a priest in another church in my town. 

As for Aleks/Alexis, those disturbing internal monologues? Siegert might as well have taken them from my own head. Not so much the specifically trans/bigender-related insults, although even those, I felt a little more viscerally than I expected. I may still identify as cis, but I won't lie, I have questioned my own gender from time to time. Although that's more just me wondering if me not being most people's idea of a typical man just means I'm nonbinary. Or if, because I'm autistic, I'm somehow pigeonholed as nonbinary by default, similarly to how some people automatically assume autistic people are asexual (which of course is a pretty insulting meshing of stereotypes any way you slice it, to autistic and asexual and nonbinary people alike.) But you know, I can sense a lot of autistic traits in Aleks/Alexis as well. Especially the part where Sister Bernadette points out that Alexis doesn't keep eye contact, and that contributes to her perception that people don't like her or think she's beautiful. A deep lack of comfort in one's own skin. Wayyyyyyyy too relatable. 

It truly amazes me that there aren't more people reading this book. Or Jerkbait, for that matter, but this book is the most shining example of Siegert's craft yet by far.

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