At the outset of Isabel Waidner’s We Are Made of Diamond Stuff (2019), our unnamed protagonist (genderqueer, immigrant -> EU National) meets their partner, Shae, at the beach on the Isle of Wight. Together they settle into minimum-wage food service underemployment, joining the hospitality industry’s working-class frontline in an environment that is to varying degrees (i.e. quite -> extremely) inhospitable to their own (very / basic) existence. An uncanny malaise soon has the duo on front-desk duty attempting to keep the no-star hotel operational even as a lypard (literary leopard) stalks the guests.

Highlights abound. Tonya Harding checks in but vanishes. A shark has the power to grant a wish (to end global warming), but requires Shae to work on their internalized anger first. (Fails.) They buy a Debbie Downer painting that promises It Gets Worse. (It Does.) The lypard blends in with the carpet which in turn gets painted leftover gray to flush it out. The local LGBTQI+ are unfriendly far-right UKIP / English Defense League Brexitists. Pertinent literary references transpire. Razor sharp Quips run structural duty. Sweaters. But definitely the crowning achievement of this book is its conclusion, which involves a savage deployment of visitor reviews.

BTW Diamond Stuff was shortlisted for both the Goldsmiths Prize and Republic of Consciousness Prize. It is tops, both brilliant and hard. If you dig it, don’t miss out on Waidner’s first book, Gaudy Bauble. Their newest banger, Sterling Karat Gold, is out from Peninsula Press.

Perfect for: Whoever needs a terrible vacation to the Isle of Wight, but also specifically those who enjoy experimental fiction, low-paid commercial kitchen labor, counterfeit Russian #sunboy fashion, citizenship examinations, and day trips to defunct military infrastructure.

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