A while back I saw a video that was created by Carter Kalchik (@CarterKalchik on tiktok), where he was discussing how books are in conversation with us as we read them and how sometimes those books can be in conversation with each other. To me, this was an earth shattering concept, helped by the fact that shortly after seeing this video I experienced this phenomena not once, but twice!
Some of you may remember last month when I reviewed The Broposal by Sonora Reyes and Unmasking Autism by Dr. Devon Price in the same video. I did this because I read these two books at the same time and truly felt as though they were speaking to both myself and each other. Unmasking Autism is a non-fiction book which outlines the challenges of being diagnosed with autism as an adult and the many ways that autism can show up in adults, especially those ways that are outside the very narrow way that autism is portrayed in the media.

The Broposal, on the other hand, is a gay rom-com following two characters, one who is autistic, as they decide to get fake married to keep one of them from being deported, while also dealing with an absolutely evil ex-girlfriend. To add another layer to this delicious bookish cake, I myself was going through my autism diagnosis as I read these two books.

What transpired was that I was reading a book which was helping me to understand my Autism in one hand, while reading a book with a character I could relate to in the way that they existed with Autism in the real world with the other hand. I don’t necessarily want to call this a spiritual experience, but that seems to be the best word for it in my head right now. It’s definitely a strange feeling though, picking up two books that seem completely different and then having them fit so perfectly together. After all, I had no idea that the Broposal featured an Autistic main character when I picked it up and decided to read it. So in many ways it felt a bit like fate that I not only read both, but read them at the same time. It was as though they were MEANT to be read together.
Then, to my surprise, this happened AGAIN! Last week I posted a video comparing Something in the Woods Loves You by Jarod K. Anderson with Magic’s Pawn by Mercedes Lackey. The common theme this time? Depression.

Something in the Woods Loves You is a nonfiction memoir chronicling Anderson’s ongoing battle with depression, following his darker times along with his pursuit of treatment. In the book, he often walks in nature, discovering the ways that animals behave and likening them to his own existence. In this way, he portrays animals and nature as guides who can help us understand our own lives and the natural world better. We also follow his challenges in going to therapy and working to move past his depression, ultimately realizing that depression isn’t something that can be cured, but rather something that can be survived and something that can be made less terrible through a lot of hard work.

In Magic’s Pawn, the first book of the Last Herald Mage trilogy, we follow Vanyel, a young man destined to inherit his kingdom, but one who really just wants to leave it all behind and become a bard. His predicament is made even worse by the fact that he is gay, which of course his father and the rest of the world are not one bit happy about. Vanyel is horribly depressed and every chapter of the story seems to introduce something new and awful into his life. I will mention that the book deserves a huge trigger warning as he more than once considers, or even attempts to take his own life.
Reading these two books together still felt like a three way conversation but in a very different way. Something in the Woods seemed to be showing me, a person who has lived with depression my whole life, that there is hope and beauty and reasons to keep going. Whereas Magic’s Pawn very much felt like putting a depressed character through the ringer to see just how much they could endure. My initial reaction to this was fairly negative. It reminded me a lot of A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara, which very much feels like a book built on shock value and trauma porn.
But I think it’s also important to consider the time period of Magic’s Pawn’s release. Coming out in 1989, the book would have coincided with the peak of the AIDs epidemic, a time when gay literature was very rarely filled with joy as illness, death and loss were seemingly permanent fixtures of the community at that time. Realizing this helped me to understand Magic’s Pawn a bit more. Going through hell and surviving no longer felt like shock for shock’s sake like A Little Life, but instead felt more like a story about triumph over terrible odds and a world that has turned its back on you. Does that mean I’m ready to dive back in and read the rest of the trilogy? Ehhhh, maybe not, but I think it helped me to understand and appreciate the book on a much deeper level.
I’ve come to really love this idea of books talking to each other. It’s something I now secretly hope to experience more. I think it really just adds a whole layer of nuance and complexity to the way I read and think about books. It’s easy to forget that books don’t just appear in this world fully formed. They are written by real people existing in the same world as us, but perhaps in very different circumstances. It’s the reason I think uplifting marginalized authors is so important and also the reason I think it’s insane to “separate the art from the artist” as if the artist goes into creating without any of their preconceived notions, experiences or biases. I think discovering books which seemingly speak to each other allows us to think even deeper about the words on the page, who wrote them, and what they mean to us as we read them. And that’s pretty awesome if you ask me!
Have you ever read two books that felt like they were talking to each other? Please share!