I remember the first time I heard “Make Me Feel” by Janelle Monáe I was astonished. I initially thought it was a Prince track I’d somehow never heard before, but it’s not just his influence on Monae that makes it a great song. It’s a joyous sex-positive song with smart lyrics that question the status quo. I bought the single, then a few months later her album Dirty Computer, and marvelled again.

This wasn’t just an album, it was a rock opera (albeit spanning multiple genres beyond rock) telling a sci-fi story about androids and humans facing oppression. It was even accompanied by a short film, in which abbreviated versions of the album’s songs are strung together in a sci-fi narrative about heavily restricted sexual and romantic freedom. Monáe herself stars as a woman (or android? it isn’t clear) captured by authorities whose memories are being deleted so that she can be made “clean”.

This dystopian vision has now been expanded on in The Memory Librarian – a collection of short stories by Monáe, working with a different experienced sci-fi writer for each story. I have been excited for this book since Monáe announced it last year but I was going to wait until it turned up in bookshops to buy a copy in person. So imagine my surprise (and delight) when I received a signed (!) copy in the post the day before release, thanks to my wonderful partner Tim having pre-ordered it for me.

The first tale (co-written by Alaya Dawn Johnson) is about Seshet, a woman who has managed to rise high in her profession despite being a Black woman – the eponymous memory librarian. In this world ruled by the strict New Dawn, memories can be monitored and indeed everyone is required to upload a minimum quantity of their own memories to earn “credits”. Anyone who defies the strict rules (for example by being gay or trans) is labelled a “dirty computer” and has their “dirty” memories erased, with the worst offenders given a complete memory wipe.

Seshet is therefore part of the totalitarian regime, responsible for reporting crimes and overseeing punishments. She’s also gay. While she pursues a new relationship that she keeps secret from her library colleagues, she is at the same time investigating a strange series of crimes against New Dawn, and figuring out that her own memories may be unreliable.

“Seshet recognizes some of them. They’re still members of her flock, however wayward. Others are unrepentant memory hoarders, the kind who never so much as walk through downtown in case a drone recollector might land, light as a horsefly, on their temple and graze a few loose memories off the top while they’re waiting for the light to change. She cares even for them, though they don’t know it. The obelisk’s eye, like any panopticon, gives only an illusion of omniscience – Seshet has made an art of selective gazing.”

It’s a disquieting tale. While obviously relying on fantastical technology, the tenets of this right-wing, repressive state are troublingly familiar. The story is beautifully, beguilingly written. And it’s a rollicking, action-packed adventure that very effectively sets up the world of this book.

The second tale, “Nevermind” co-written by Danny Lore, is initially very different. At a women’s commune in the desert outside the boundaries of New Dawn, Neer struggles to be accepted as a non-binary person in this space but they need a safe space and really hope this can be it. Between confronting transphobia and sharing painful memories, the residents of the Pynk motel must also fight off raids ordered by New Dawn.

I loved the direct, uncompromising inclusivity of this story in particular. But inclusive would be my overriding description of the whole book. Every story was co-written by a Black woman or non-binary person and they all have lead characters who are Black, queer or non-binary. Monae herself identifies as pansexual and non-binary (using she/her pronouns) and this is front and centre of The Memory Librarian.

The stories are all excellent, very different in subject matter while maintaining a consistent tone and world. The one exception is the final story, “Timebox Altar(ed)” co-written by Sheree Renee Thomas – not because it is better or worse but because it manages to bring a note of hope to the ending, while still being unmistakably in the same setting.

It might have been predictable that I would love this, but I was a tiny bit afraid it wouldn’t live up to the genius of everything else Monáe has done. I’m so glad to have found it truly well done. I am eager to read more from her, but I also want another album and also to see her in more films and TV shows so…I guess I’m eager for whatever she next releases into the world.

Published 2022 by HarperVoyager.

Source: Present from Tim.