Roads is as crusty a crustpunk as any, so that filthy lot will enjoy her unashamed odors. The question of cultural fidelity is familiar to anyone who doesn’t relate to mainstream narratives. She was an androgynous youth resentful of expectations of her budding femininity, and a few social missteps were all it took for her to be universally recognized as a “dyke” before she’d realized it herself. Her queerness began as it does for many of us-with others assigning it to her and subsequently finding the category fitting. However common they may be, Indestructible’s distinctly well-written narrative and Road’s consistent use of inclusive “we, us, you” makes the reader feel like a part of her experience. Whether that’s enough to capture one’s interest is largely dependent on whether or not they identify with any of those categories: the difficulty of self-definition when not part of the mainstream binaries the cultural confusion of trying to maintain ancestral cultural identity while merging with the greater American zeitgeist the dauntless hope and automatic victory of self-righteous youth burnt-out in age and justified angst. The novella’s subtitle says it all: Growing up queer, Cuban, and punk in Miami.
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