A newer edit of this review can be found on my Substack 

Library of Brothel by Anakana Schofield: Please come in

I used to come upon Anakana at my old place of work, she always had found an interesting book I had never seen before in her hand, and we would chat and commiserate and bond over books and the treachery and oppression of capitalism and the wonder and beauty of words and books and nature: a normal beautiful kinship. Throughout this time my workplace had been gradually crumbling around me and I was clinging to it and resistant to its demise, until on July 1st of last year my grasp was loosened for me and I was forcefully evicted, with a thoughtful 8 week (“wrap-it-up”) waiting period,. 

I didn’t know what Library of Brothel was about when I heard about it, but I had read and loved Malarky, Martin John and Bina, not in the order they were written, but in my favourite way for interconnected books: as they found me. 

I was unprepared for Library of Brothel in the best way possible. It surprised and delighted me! It made expel a high musical laugh alone in my home many times. The wordssmithing so clever and odd, and the rooms! The rooms aka the people! I loved them all, even the annoyingly odd ones that all the other rooms shunned, like Forgotten Poets Called John Room. #Bless.

Of course, I connected deeply with the dysfunction of the Library and its Rooms and the extreme silliness of it’s Noble Leader. I was hooked immediately.

Mostly, as I was reading (slowly, like navigating an unfamiliar building), I was wondering which Room I am. Of course everyone wants to be Scrabble Room aka Scrabble Woman, don’t they? She is the hero. But I also am Anti-protein Powder but Pro-smoothie Room and NYT Word Games First Thing Room*. I am making a list.

The book is divided like a building into its rooms but also into cantos explaining the narrative. It’s musical writing. Opera, Tragedy, Comedy, Satire, Allegory; with the Rooms as the chorus. I’m not smart enough to dissect it all on my first read but it’s wonderful to peel back the layers. 

It’s about people and connection and capitalism and destruction and violence and work culture and the right to work and lovely old buildings and the housing crisis in Vancouver and sex and poverty and love and sadness. And more! No really, if I could make this into some sort of click bait and sell you the book by having you click here, I would.

In this weird and shocking time of anti-intellectualism, I love to read hard to try and counter the vibe and Anakana’s work helps me do that by letting me get a little glimpse of what is inside her wonderful brain. I love to see it.

👓👓👓👓👓 outta sight