"falling in love, you decide, is falling home. it's clumsy and awkward, utterly wonderful. you're so vulnerable in the freefall. there's so much unlearning. it's letting go of what you knew and how you used to. surrender to her gravity, to the darkness of her unknown. land there, home."

a language of limbs is a celebration of queer love, joy, and community. it's a gorgeous book where both character's, told as limb one and limb two, lives mirror each other before they eventually collide. as beautiful as this book is, it is also brutal. set against australia's first mardi gras and theaids pandemic, limbs one and two navigate resistance, grief and loss. through every ebb and flow, this book remains radiant and vibrant, a story that's unapologetically bright.

as a reader, i prefer books writing that is a bit more lyrical. if a book is told too matter-of-factly, i have a hard time sinking into the stories and the characters. however, if the prose is also a bit too flowery, i also have a hard time sinking into the story and the characters. there's a sweet spot for me, and unfortunately hardcastle's writing, even in all it's beauty, was a bit too flowery. there were just a handful of stylistic choices that would take me out of the story at times, but that is more of a personal critique

thank you to the publisher for an early copy!

A Language of Limbs by Dylin Hardcastle is one of my favorite books I've read all year. Set in Australia in the 1970s and 80s, the story follows two characters, called limb one and limb two. Their paths take very different trajectories, but continue to run parallel to each other every so often. The characters' love for each other, both romantic and platonic, was so beautifully described. I love reading about found family, and that these characters made the most vibrant and loving found families. The book also discusses how difficult it was to be openly queer during that time in history, the violence, discrimination and abandonment felt by many queer people, as well as the immense tragedy of the HIV/AIDS epidemic at that time. I loved Hardcastle's lyrical writing and how they wove poetry throughout the book. It was honestly so moving and I continue to think about these characters daily. Be prepared for some heartbreak and heavy emotions, but I highly encourage you to pick up this book. It was the perfect Pride Month read.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for this review copy.

DNF@ 15%

I don't care for the way that this book is written and I'm finding it difficult to stay focused in the story.

if you’re not a fan of an entire book of poetic prose, i would not recommend, but i thought this novel was just lovely. a teeny bit long for my liking, but i thought the concept of the two “limbs” was really unique. thank you to netgalley and the publisher for the eArc in exchange for my honest review!

I was initially put off by the opaquely lyrical prose and my inability to distinguish the limbs, but after a few chapters I got used to their different voices and was hooked on their stories. I became more emotionally invested than I thought I would, especially with limb two's experience, and overall it's a heartbreaking yet joyous celebration of life and the spectrum of sexuality.

This book made me tear up so many times, I know reading of the AIDS crisis is always hard but seeing one POV of someone who was proudly queer to someone who repressed it for so long pulled at my heartstrings but I loved every second of it

I previously thought that the concept of celebrating ‘Pride’ was about triumph, surviving against all odds and thriving despite the many adversarial forces that have existed and continue to exist today. This work is not just a rollercoaster of emotions, but it’s a reminder: life is also about honoring the losses, too. That is the most palpable feeling throughout this work, and it’s crafted in such a way that it remains haunting, even after you’ve put it down.

The only two aspects that I could not fully connect with are the style of writing (lack of quotation marks to differentiate dialogue) and the more… How can I best describe it? The poetry. This is more of personal preference, as poetry is not my preferred medium.

At any rate, this was one of the most moving and thought-provoking works that I have read this year, and I’m very curious to see what else this author releases in the future. If there’s another lesson to take from all of the twists and turns, the heartbreaks and the victories, it’s that the queer experience is not monolithic, yet it’s rooted in both the realization and celebration of *differences*.

My thanks to the author (Dylin Hardcastle), the publisher, and NetGalley for providing the eARC through which I was able to read the work and write this review.

So this is interesting - I enjoyed seeing the various ways the lives of the two "limbs" diverged and converged through the years - but oof, is it overwritten. The last sentence feels like such a case in point: so many descriptors flung up desperately trying to a evoke a feeling...but completely lacking the clarity to do so. It's not completely unbearable, and there are some moments of genuine greatness - like the birth scene, that was perfectly intense - but it's not as tight or sharp as it needs to be. Particularly since the language is carrying so much of the weight here due to the near complete absence of any fully rendered character.

Who was Caragh, besides being limb one's girlfriend who isn't out to her family? Thomas has slightly more going for him - but only because we know his ambitions - but beyond that the character situation is pretty bleak. No one in the crowd of secondary characters has anything resembling a personality (though we are told, especially in limb one's sections, that many people are "loving"...okay) and if a character happens to be a POC that's basically all we know about them because they'll have gotten one line of pointing out inequality to a white character. Ditto any character who's made to represent a specific queer identity. (So Caragh also serves as a way to call out biphobia, and Daphne for transphobia.)

Fortunately, the limbs have a little more to them but even with them it's very much lower-case 'c' characterization. It's more the interplay of their lives that made this worth reading - how their decisions lead them away and towards each other, pendulum style. And I did find that really compelling, but at the same time also wished that this book could've had more to it: more sharp writing, more real characterization. For that reason I'm not sure if I'd recommend it. It is pretty unique - so if the summary really grabs you, go for it. But otherwise, it's safe to skip.

This one is for the lovers of the poetic.

It's a queer coming-of-age story set in Australia, spanning three decades, beginning in the 1970s, about two women finding themselves through very different approaches.

The book is divided into two sections, two narrators: Limb One and Limb Two.
Expect the prose to match the concept-- poetic and artsy. It is often unconventional and pretty, eliciting all of your emotions as it goes.

This book is evocative, a reminder of our history-- a book of contradictions and necessary balances while embarking upon the journey of (queer) self-discovery.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the ARC of A Language of Limbs.

Dylin Hardcastle’s prose is undeniably beautiful. It’s lyrical, strange, and often evocative. There were moments throughout the book that really captured me, with lines and imagery that felt both haunting and intimate. The language itself is the star of this novel, and fans of poetic writing will find a lot to admire here.

However, I struggled with the narrative. The two central characters were difficult to distinguish from one another at the beginning, which made it hard to ground myself in the story. The decision to withhold names until the end of the book may have been intentional, but for me, it created a distance I couldn’t quite bridge. I didn’t feel as emotionally connected to the characters as I wanted to, and that made it harder to stay invested.

Overall, A Language of Limbs is an intriguing and atmospheric read, but one that left me feeling a bit adrift. It’s a book I appreciated more than I loved.

I really enjoyed this book. The concept of chosen family resonates strongly with me. As the dual stories unfold, it did take me a minute to understand that Limb one and Limb two were two different people. I thought it was two different versions of Little Dave's life. Once I realized it was two different people, the girls who'd been best friends, it made a lot more sense. I love how Dave saved Lucy and could see who she was and understood what she needed. How many times does this happen in our lives, that we cross paths with just the being we need to make it to the next step? The poetry and the description of the art makes me want to see it all with my own eyes. References to the 80s and the tragedy of the AIDS crisis stung a bit. However, I was also surprised the same stigma existed in countries other than the US. I will read this book again.

Thank you to NetGalley and Dutton for letting me read an e-ARC of A Language of Limbs by Dylin Hardcastle! Though this book has already been published, I'm finally getting around to writing a review and it was a very solid 5 out of 5 stars from me.

This is a gripping and emotional story following two young women in Australia starting in the 1970s and sweeping through present-day. Readers bear witness as two of the paths that could have easily fallen to either character are played out in both "Limb One" and "Limb Two". We watch as limb one explores and eventually embraces her sexuality while limb two suppresses her feelings and eventually finds happiness marrying a man. Both women experience the impact of the AIDS epidemic as people they love fall victim to it. Both women explore the depth of their first loves and everything that comes with it. The two women’s lives don’t come together until the end of the novel, but this book is easily consumed. The chapters are short, bite-sized, and they flow naturally into each other. Once you pick this up, you won’t want to put it down. The exploration of queer experiences was top-notch and they didn’t hold back on the punches - readers get the good, the bad, and the ugly.

“Four decades from now, a disease will sweep across the world, and they will call it a global pandemic, and governments will act and mobilize, and borders will close. The world will be locked down and people will speak of this strange and unprecedented time. Again and again, they will say, this strange and unprecedented time. And for those of us who are still alive, we will say, this is not my first pandemic.”

Without a doubt, this was my favorite quote from the finished copy. There are so many other instances of Hardcastle’s thoughtfully poetic writing that struck me down where I stood and made me choke up, but this one was a heavy-hitter. If you love lyrical writing and heart-wrenching queer stories that will make you ugly cry - look no further. I cannot wait to see what Hardcastle works up next!

Beautiful. Gorgeous. 5/5 stars no notes.

A coming-of-age story of young queer teens in Australia in the 70s, written in beautifully lyrical, endearing and heartbreaking prose.

Thank you netgalley for the eARC.

I absolutely ADORED this book! I thought it was written so beautifully, though I'm sure other readers may not vibe with the prose as much as I did. I found the characters to be so realistic, flawed, dimensional, and captivating from childhood to adulthood. And the secondary characters, especially in Limb One's story, were created with care. I was equal parts devastated by the tragedies in Australia's queer history and heartened by the hope and joy that persisted alongside them. I'm so glad to have read this and it's going on the list of books I wish existed when I was younger..

JUST GORGEOUS. GORGEOUS.
Lyrical. Harsh. Brutal. Joy. Existence is resistance. Queer joy is revolution. Breathtakingly tragic and gorgeous.
I loved the author's attention to lack of BIPOC everywhere - especially in the late 1970s, early 80s. Their voices were not acknowledged, heard, swept aside. A great reminder of colonization, historical misrepresentation - or lack of any representation.

"Four decades from now, a disease will sweep across the world, and they will call it a global pandemic, and governments will act and mobilize, and borders will close. The world will be locked down and people will speak of this strange and unprecedented time. Again and again, they will say, this strange and unprecedented time. And for those of us who are still alive, we will say, this is not my first pandemic."

1970s Australia through the present day.

A 15-year old girl is caught kissing another girl and is thrown out of her house. Elsewhere, another girl keeps her feelings hidden away, has a boyfriend, goes off to university. Two narratives, two lives lived and the moments where they almost intersect. I sobbed.

At less than 300 pages, A Language of Limbs packs a massive punch. For the majority of the book I was under the impression this was an alternate timeline novel: the girls aren't named until the very end; it easily read as though the limb one chapters told the story of the girl who embraced her sexuality, while limb two explored the alternate path. This is easily a top read of the year for me and one I know will show up on many other readers' year end round-ups as well.

I do not have the proper words to describe the beauty and importance of this book, but I will do my best. A Language of Limbs is a life-altering book. I read it in one sitting because I couldn't put it down and I wish I hadn't because I just want to pour over the pages. Hardcastle's writing style pulled me in and drowned me in emotions. If I had a physical copy on hand, more than half the book would be tabbed and highlighted. This book is a work of art. I need to get a PhD and teach English Literature in a university so that I can list A Language of Limbs on the required reading list in the syllabus. This book is a celebration and an homage to life and queerness and love and the families we make on our own. I cannot wait to see what Hardcastle does next.

Thank you to the publisher for the e-copy. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

thank you dutton for the finished copy!

an excellent pride month read! beautifully written and really touching. sometimes it was SO beautifully written and almost OVERLY poetic to the point where my fried brain was like alright, let's wrap this up. but i am also a troll, so take that with a grain of salt (not like an internet troll (but...debatable), like a troll that lives under a bridge and mainlines hours of youtube videos instead of producing coherent thoughts).

i was unfortunately more invested in one story line than the other, but i weirdly liked the balance this provided. this book is also not afraid to pull punches. my jaw dropped many times at the end of chapters, just to be hit with another wave of devastation a few pages later. lots to think about in this one!! mostly sad things!!

tldr a very well-written debut and i'm excited for more from dylin hardcastle

This is a very beautifully written, experimental musing on queer identity and parallel lives.

Strengths for me: the prose was often very lyrical and evocative, and the portrayal of the AIDS epidemic from multiple angles was very powerful.

Things that didn’t work for me: I had trouble following the structure at first - it wasn’t clear whether they were supposed to be the same person a la sliding door or separate. (The answer is separate, and their lives touch but don’t interact for the majority of the book.) I would also say this is very heavily Literary Fiction, which is neither good nor bad, just a fact. It’s hard to rate this because it was more literary than I prefer, which is more about my personal preference than it is about the author.

I would recommend this for readers seeking the kind of book you can deeply analyze and who value hearing queer perspectives and learning about a multitude of queer experiences.

A story of two lives, limb one and limb two, over the course of three decades. Told in the style of poetic prose (and no quotation marks for dialogue), we follow these two limbs who experience entanglements and desires that go against social norms in Australia. This book is a reminder that the queer community fought tirelessly for acceptance and the right to exist openly and proudly. This is an homage to found families and honors the ones we lost during the AIDS pandemic. It’s a very beautiful book that was difficult to read at times for both the content and how it’s written, but definitely one that will stick with me.