Structured around Gwendolyn Brooks' seminal poem We Real Cool and a bus ride where Brian Broome observed a young Black boy named Tuan interacting with his father, this autobiography in essays is a profound, powerful examination of the life of a gay black man growing up in late 20th century America.

Born and raised in 1970s northeastern Ohio, Brian knew he was different from other boys at an early age, and not in a way that his parents or society approved of. His father, especially, thought that constantly, viciously beating him would instill the desired manliness that he seemed to lack. As soon as Brian was able, he left small town life for the lure of a big city, where he thought he might finally find his people and a life of liberation and love. Things don't go as planned, and the shy young man discovers drink and drugs before finally being able to discover himself.

Standard memoir stuff, but Mr Broome pulls even fewer metaphorical punches than his father did in actuality, tho the younger man directs his ruthlessness in a more deserved direction, interrogating the issues of race, sexuality and masculinity that made him the person he is today. Punch Me Up To The Gods is an unflinchingly honest examination of all the terrible things that shaped him, whether done to or by him, as well as a stunningly generous expression of love and compassion for all the hurting, hurtful people just struggling to survive in a world that too often encourages fear of and cruelty to the "other". The memoir is beautifully shaped, using Ms Brooks' poem as a narrative scaffolding while also providing another throughline in the form of Mr Broome's meditations on Tuan's life as they both journey on the bus. The writing is astounding throughout this brilliantly crafted, searingly intelligent critique of a culture that could have very easily destroyed Mr Broome. That he could come through decades of pain to write this masterpiece of empathy and honesty is a testament both to his own character and will, and to the threads of kindness and hope that we need to keep displaying in our everyday lives. Books like this encourage us all to work to be less racist, to be less colorist, to not judge people based on gender or sexuality. It's an important, vital, absorbing read.

I did not, however, care for Yona Harvey's introduction. On the plus side, it didn't spoil Mr Broome's narrative. On the minus, it talked mostly about James Baldwin (to which, awesome but irrelevant -- Mr Broome discusses Mr Baldwin in the text and it doesn't need embroidering upon) and also about Ms Harvey's own attitude to the book, which quite frankly set my teeth on edge. Maybe it's because I've never had patience for those kids who revel in shaming and narcing, the way that entire "you're gonna get in trouble" singsong passage she includes so vividly evokes. I'd honestly recommend skipping the introduction entirely so you can better enjoy this excellent memoir without the intrusive shadow of judgey assholes looming larger than they need to.

Punch Me Up To The Gods: A Memoir by Brian Broome was published today May 18 2021 by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt and is available from all good booksellers, including <a href="https://bookshop.org/a/15382/9780358439103">Bookshop!</a>.

Brian Broome’s debut book, Punch Me Up to the Gods, is a memoir that gives the reader an amazing look at Brian’s disfunctional family, being black, being gay, and dealing with addiction. And to think I almost did not read it. I read a First Impression reading in Bookish First which I almost did not do based on the unattractive cover. I am so glad my mother taught me to not judge a book by its cover. In my opinion, the cover is a turn off for this beautiful book.

First, Brian’s father’s way to teach his child is to punch him. I had to stop reading a couple of times and do something else. Interspersed with Brian’s narrative, we find Brian riding a bus and internalizing his life by watching a little boy named Tulan with a father who is constantly on the phone and not paying attention to his son. This journey motif was effective as it took the reader away from some of Brian’s stories of his life coping with home problems, the gay bar scene he was exposed to, and the bullies he came across. I did like that the author takes us back in time and we find out about his father’s life as a child. And, I especially like the chapter where his mom became the.narrator. In reading this book, I cried many times. I laughed. I yelled at the book. I admired the author’s prose. I will probably reread this book again. Thank you Houghton, Mifflin, Harcourt and NetGalley for an ARC of this book. The opinions in this review are my own.

Thank you Netgalley and Houghton Mifflin Harcourt for the ARC of Punch Me Up to the Gods.

I love memoirs, and I especially love a memoir that is so well written, it places you into a story you would otherwise not be privy to, even if that makes you feel a level of discomfort. Brian Broome is a gay, dark-skinned black man who grew up in a small town in Ohio. As a child, he was often chastised by his father for not being manly enough. Later, he is chastised by friends for being a sissy and made to do things to prove he was a man (he was told to and tried to have sex with a girl in front of others at the age of 10.). Brian's destructive behavior continued on as an adult, where he was constantly trying to prove himself as being "good enough" to others.

Later, moving to Philadelphia where he felt he'd be better accepted. Brian explored a lifestyle that continued to be destructive...hiding who he truly was as he tried to figure out who he really was. This moving exploration of life as a gay, black man is one to pick up for sure...but be ready to confront your own bias as Broome tells it exactly as it is. And sometimes, that might come back to hit you straight in the heart.

Broome's writing style absolutely pulls you in and leaves you wanting to read more by him. I'm hopeful this is a voice we'll continue to hear in the future.

Broome is a compelling writer, and his candor carries this book. There's a level of vulnerability here that's rare even in memoir. I do think the boy on the bus interspersed throughout began to feel gimmicky about halfway through.

Powerful, graphic, and so very heavy. Punch Me Up to the Gods is a memoir in more of an essay format of the author’s experiences of growing up Black and gay. It’s my desire the spend my life reading and learning from people who are not just like me. This memoir was both painful and powerful in equal measures. Trigger warnings abound so proceed with caution.

Much thanks to NetGalley, the author and the publisher for the free ARC of the memoir to read and review. Words written here are my honest thoughts.

This was brilliant. I listened to this on audio as well. I love this memoir and how it was written. Brian tells a captivating story of growing up a gay, Black man in Ohio. He ventures on to discuss his upbringing specifically as a Black man and Black boy and the how him being gay fit into that picture.

I found the writing to be very moving and real. I loved the nonlinear timeline where Brian didn't tell his life story in order. He focused on monumental moments, in his life, and the significance of those to his development. While doing this, he is telling his own present day observation of Tuan, a little boy on the bus. Definitely recommend and definitely worth the read! It was a fairly quick read also, but it kept me going from start to finish.

Punch Me Up to the Gods is a powerful memoir written by Brian Broome a Black gay man who grew up in Ohio and moved to Pittsburgh, PA. Broome's story is told in an interesting way, he prefaces each chapter with vignettes titled "The Initiation of Tuan" which covers Broome's observations of a Black father and his young son Tuan on a city bus. Broome observes how the father interacts with Tuan, telling the young boy to be a man and to not cry. These observations lead into Broome's own story which focuses alot on colorism, Black masculinity, sexuality, race and internalized racism, drug addiction, etc. Tuan and his father remind Broome of his troubled relationship with his own father who would beat him viciously because Broome was not masculine enough. Brian's mom is another important character in this book; in fact there is one chapter where Brian writes in his mother's voice to tell her own traumatic story.

This book is definitely brutal and raw, at times it reminded me of Kiese Laymon's Heavy and Sapphire's Precious. Broome's writing is beautiful. I love how he describes people and places. It was after I finished the book that I found out that Broome is a poet which explains why his writing was so good. He closes the book with a powerful letter to Tuan. At the end of the book I felt that he was not just writing to Tuan but he was also writing to me and every other Black man who has been told to bury their emotions, be tough, don't show them your weakness, etc. Hopefully the wisdom of this book can help others recovers from toxic Black masculinity and allow for Black men to be more open about themselves, their pasts, and their feelings.

A moving exploration of dysfunction attendant to being black and gay in a less than loving household where anger-fueled violence substitutes for rational conversation. There are some odd artistic/authorial choices in the telling. Every other chapter observes a small boy and his father on a bus ride which is used as an instigator to personal recollections of lessons learned during his lifetime of how to be black and assaulting his perceived and actual gayness, which is anything but gay. He also explains his family by assuming the persona of his mother and introducing the reader to his maternal grandparents and his father from her point of view. Moving and memorable.

3.5. Thank you netgalley for providing me with an advance copy of this memoir. I found the coming-of-age story heartbreaking; the author detailed his difficult upbringing as a gay dark-skinned black adolescent growing up in a small town in Ohio. He deals with systematic racism, homophobia, addiction, abuse and rape. The book is beautifully written but cringe-worthy and raw and at times difficult to read. I also felt there were a lot of loose ends when I finished it and I wished the author had delved into his family relationships and his eventual path to sobriety.

Title: Punch Me Up to the Gods

Author: Brian Broome

Genre: memoir

Thank you NetGalley for this book. And really, I am so thankful. What a fantastic book.

I’m a white, cis, straight, woman. Because of these privileges, my life is not hard. Sure, being a woman can be difficult at times, but it doesn’t compare in any way to being a Black person in society these days. Or being a gay person. But being both Black and gay is an unbelievable challenge, to put it mildly. Brian is around my age, grew up in a small town, just like I did, but his life was vastly different all because of his Blackness and his queerness. This theme is the topic of the book, and although the book was difficult to read because of all the struggles he dealt with, I couldn’t put this one down. Reading books written by people who are different from you is critical to being a member of the world. I’m so glad NetGalley sent this one to me.

From Goodreads: Punch Me Up to the Gods introduces a powerful new talent in Brian Broome, whose early years growing up in Ohio as a dark-skinned Black boy harboring crushes on other boys propel forward this gorgeous, aching, and unforgettable debut. Brian’s recounting of his experiences—in all their cringe-worthy, hilarious, and heartbreaking glory—reveal a perpetual outsider awkwardly squirming to find his way in. Indiscriminate sex and escalating drug use help to soothe his hurt, young psyche, usually to uproarious and devastating effect. A no-nonsense mother and broken father play crucial roles in our misfit’s origin story. But it is Brian’s voice in the retelling that shows the true depth of vulnerability for young Black boys that is often quietly near to bursting at the seams.

Cleverly framed around Gwendolyn Brooks’s poem “We Real Cool,” the iconic and loving ode to Black boyhood, Punch Me Up to the Gods is at once playful, poignant, and wholly original. Broome’s writing brims with swagger and sensitivity, bringing an exquisite and fresh voice to ongoing cultural conversations about Blackness in America.

Back when I was teaching AP English, I was constantly on the hunt for passages to use in class. One section near the end of this book about Brian wanting a pink shirt is simply one of the best written passages I’ve read in ages. So many people write memoirs their story is interesting, but the writing leaves you cringing because of how cheesy or bad it is. This book is beautifully written from beginning to end. I hope this one gets the reviews it deserves. Own voices books are critical these days, and this is one I will be recommending to everyone.

This is an incredibly powerful and beautifully written book. Brian Broome writes vulnerably and honestly about his life, particularly, his struggles with being a gay, Black man in a world that is not always kind to people who share his identity. I loved the way it flowed between chapters describing his life (almost like essays), to snippets about a young Black boy and his family whom he observes on a bus ride. This book is deep, and thought provoking and gorgeous. It is, I will say, a really heavy book. In addition to tackling his experiences as a gay man and his struggle to accept himself for who he is, he describes the toxic masculinity that he has observed and experienced within Black communities.

Punch Me Up to the Gods is Brian Broome's memoir on growing up Black and gay in a small-town in the 1980s. This memoir is incredibly well-written and truly provides a glimpse at what that was like and what Brian struggled with growing up. Obviously, as I'm not a black man and I didn't grow up during that time, the contents were not relatable but they were eye-opening. I would recommend this book for those who want to know about that experience as well.

One thing I would have appreciated from this memoir was a glimpse at where Brian is now. We look a lot at his use of drugs and alcohol as a young man and at him growing up, but I wanted some information past that. How did he move on past his addiction? Move into therapy? Where is he now? Some of this book is repetitive, so I would have liked some of that information to replace yet another chapter on partying and drugs.

Wow. I just finished reading Brian Broome’s memoir Punch Me Up to the Gods. This memoir is written as a series of essays interwoven with the author’s observations of a little boy on the bus. This memoir is not light-hearted. It is heartbreaking and emotional. He talks about domestic violence, addictions, and racism in America. I highly recommend this book. I could not put it down. I am looking forward to reading more of this author’s work. Thank you to Netgalley and Houghton Mifflin Harcourt for the ARC. All opinions expressed are my own.

A moving and raw memoir about being gay and Black in America. Brian Broome shares a collection of essays divided into chapters based on a poem by Gwendolyn Brooks. Some of the essays are brutally honest and I’ve seen some feedback that the memoir lacks hope. But I find it difficult to critique someone’s life and experiences. My feedback is based on the writing itself and I appreciated the clever structuring and style.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for a digital ARC.

Let me preface this by saying I am not Black, I am not queer, and I am not a man. However, this book resonated deeply with me. Beautifully written and heartbreakingly honest, this memoir has shot to the top of my favorites. I hated to put it down and couldn't wait to pick it back up. I would recommend this book to anyone.

Brian Broome's <i>Punch Me Up to the Gods</i> is a powerful, thought-provoking read. It is a memoir, linked by short essays, detailing episodes of Broome's life starting in childhood and through his adult years. Broome is Black and queer; aware of his different-ness from a young age. Broome's "sissy"-ness is derailed by his father, whose idea of manhood is so stereotyped that it is painful to read. Broome's mother is stoic and, for the most part, also wants to keep Brian's more effeminate leanings tamped down. As a result, Broome is eager to escape rural Ohio as soon as he can.

There is <i>so</i> much to unpack in this book; it feels hard to figure out how to summarize and what to take note of. Race, sexuality, alcoholism, addiction, domestic violence... this book touches on heavy subject after heavy subject. Yet, there is humor and a biting intelligence that make it oh-so-readable. I loved it, couldn't put it down, <i>and</I> was so deeply saddened. The world needs more books like <i>Punch Me Up to the Gods</i>. Highly recommended.

Broome's enthralling biographical work recounts in very touching narrative the horrors of growing up different in America, but specifically in the Black family and gay experience. Brian's character as he grows up in the 90s with his family's version of what it means to be a Black man in the Black culture, and the role of women in the culture is explored. He deals honestly with the lies he tells himself and the role he plays to survive his internal racism, the real racism of America, and his homosexuality.
The narrative is interesting as it revolves around a singular bus ride and his observance of a young boy with his father's interactions which bring his memories to life. Some chapters are written like a screen play--jumping from scene to scene--even directing the action of the memoir. In addition, the final chapter reminded me of Coates' Between the World and Me--a call to the boy on the bus to deal with his life in a true way.

What I found offense was the introduction Yona Harvey. Let the reader decide what one wants to compare the work to.

Thanks to Net Galley and publisher for this electronic copy in return for an unbiased review.

I can see how this would apeal to a lot of people. It just wasn't my taste. I guess I was expecting to laugh more. I think it was the cover and title.

Punch Me Up to the Gods is a memoir that is full of heavy material. It focuses on Brian's life and what it was like to be a Black and gay in a rural town. This was a strong book and made me go through a whole slew of emotions.

The writing was immersive and made me feel as though I could understand Brian's life and what it was like for him. I appreciated how he made me laugh and cry. I was rooting for Brian the whole time.

In Punch My Up to the Gods, Brian Broome explores the pressures that Black men face to perform a certain kind of masculinity—one that he found particularly damaging as a Black, gay boy growing up in rural Ohio. In a series of stories organized by theme around Gwendolyn Brooks' poem "We Real Cool," Broome reflects on the way these requirements to "be a man" damaged his relationship with his family, complicated his efforts to find queer community, and resulted in longterm struggles with anxiety and addiction.

I found Broome's efforts to untangle his challenging memories of his mother and father especially poignant and profound; throughout the book, he traces how their fear of the real and ever-present danger he would face as a Black man growing up in America led them to police his gender identity and sexuality in harsh and sometimes violent ways. Broome's thoughtful exploration of the fraught relationship between love and control is an important reminder of the way that American racism requires Black parents to make impossible decisions to try to keep their children safe.

While I appreciated some of the fruitful juxtapositions offered by Broome's thematic narrative structure, without clear forward momentum the chapters sometimes fell into a bleak pattern of hope, humiliation, then defeat. Punch Me Up to the Gods reads a little like spying on confessional, and though it's evident by the end of the memoir that Broome finds in the sum of his experiences a clearer understanding of both himself and America, I needed a stronger connective thread to the realizations that define the final chapter. Nevertheless, Broome's story is an important one. I'm grateful that he shared it.