The promotional material for Raquel Gutiérrez's Brown Neon describes it thusly: "Part butch memoir, part ekphrastic travel diary, part queer family tree, Raquel Gutiérrez’s debut essay collection Brown Neon gleans insight from the sediment of land and relationships." Really, I can't sum it up any better than that.

Gutiérrez is a brilliant and original thinker with a prose voice that moves between the erudite and the informal. My favorite parts of this essay collection were those dealing with butch identity in the range of nonbinary forms it takes these days and the sections on immigration, which make it soberingly clear the human lives at stake along the U.S. border. The sections about underground and cutting-edge art scenes were more difficult for me—because I know very little about that topic and couldn't necessarily pull up my own information about the artists and works that they discuss.

Because Gutiérrez thinks richly—and compels readers to do the same—this is an excellent title to keep bedside and devote one's self to from time to time. That lets one barrage of ideas settle before the reader takes on the next. Gutiérrez is saying things that matter immensely and deserves the attention a thoughtful reading requires.

I received a free electronic review copy of this title from EdelweissPlus; the opinions are my own. ( )