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.

Oof—this was a beautiful, tragic, and emotional story. It follows two different life paths of a queer teen after she is caught kissing her best friend, showing how one pivotal decision can shape everything that comes after. In Limb One, the main character lives openly as her queer self; in Limb Two, she suppresses her identity to fit into societal norms. Set in 1970s Australia during a time of queer repression and the looming AIDS crisis, both timelines felt deeply believable and real. The juxtaposition of the split narrative was surreal in the best way, serving as a powerful reminder of how a single choice can change your entire life.

Sincere thanks to NetGalley and PENGUIN GROUP Dutton for an advanced reader copy in exchange for an honest review.

An absolutely gorgeous read, sure to be one of my favorites of the year. Beautiful prose, and reflective character work that kept me reading. Sad and hopeful and melancholy and joyous.

Let me say one thing first, this book is very important. The themes, the characters’ journeys, the real life events, they’re all important and good information for someone who isn’t aware of the LGBTQ+ community. We get to see history unfold for our characters and acknowledge it.
While I do believe this book is important and everyone should try it, I did have a few gripes with it. My main issue was the writing choice. It was beautiful at times but I could not get over the no quotations. I got used to it but I was still so annoyed the whole time. Again, that’s a personal gripe, nothing to do with the story.
Limb Two also bothered me. The problem with Limb Two was that I felt her story was unnecessary until the end. She represents a person who decides to conceal their queerness and her life after deciding to live a straight life. Anything that happened with this Limb was so dull compared the Limb One’s life until the very end. The part with her husband’s father though was crucial to show how people were treated amidst the AIDs pandemic. It was very sad.
Regardless of my own personal peeves with this book, I believe it was truly a great read and definitely worth a try. I hope if you decide to pick it up you enjoy it!

This book is unbelievably special. It's poetry and history and love and grief and resilience and light and family. And mostly, threaded through it all in ways both obvious and subtle, it's queerness. It was the perfect book to read in Pride Month: a reminder of our history and pain and also of our joy and community and love.

Reading A Language of Limbs left me with the distinct ache of having lived multiple lives in parallel—lives shaped not by certainty, but by the quiet, devastating gravity of indecision. This book taught me that love doesn’t always announce itself with clarity, and that the choices we make—or don’t—can ripple across time in ways we only understand years later. It illuminated how desire, when silenced, doesn't disappear but instead rearranges the self, and how tenderness can survive even in exile. What makes this one of my favorite reads of the year is its rare ability to hold contradiction: joy and sorrow, longing and fulfillment, humor and heartbreak—all tangled together with grace. I came up for air after finishing it and realized my body had been holding something for me the whole time.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers for this e-arc!

4.75

This was so heartbreaking and beautiful with some of the most unique prose and narrative structure I have encountered in a long time. Such an interesting metaphor with limbs and the different paths that life can take. This was beautifully and lyrically written with beautiful poetry and language. So many queer people’s experiences are tied to pain and injustice, and both of these characters experiences in this novel demonstrate this fact. I was really impacted by the way the author drew comparisons between COVID and AIDS, how covid was not the first pandemic for many. This was ultimate really emotional and a story I feel will really stick with me.

Thank you to NetGalley and Dutton for an advanced reader copy in exchange for an honest review

Language of Limbs is a tender novel, poetic and insightful. You follow two timelines of a queer Australian teen, one in which they are outed [spoiler](assaulted and kicked out)[spoiler] and one in which they suppres their queerness. Queerness in this novel spans sexuality, gender, and political spaces. The conversation exists between generations; amongst cis and trans folks; and on college campuses, at home, and in community hubs.

It's hard to recommend books that might devastate you, but I'm so grateful we have words like these and a heart like Hardcastle's to tell our shared story. To remind us of the fear and violence, historical and present, but to also connect us to the freedom and joy we find, together. 

I recommend checking the contents before reading.

A beautiful story about lovee and identity. My only issue with this book was that the story and the characters themselves get lost within all the flowery language.

Ouch I am hurt and will never emotionally recover from the beauty and devastation within this book. This was one of the most beautifully written books that I’ve ever read in my entire life. The way the two stories overlapped and paralleled each other until the very end when they finally came together was incredible. I have goosebumps even thinking about this book and know it will stay with me for a very long time.

While I think the writing is beautiful and could relate to the themes in the book, it was hard for me to get through. For most of the book, I thought it was one narrator living two parallel lives but it’s actually two narrators. Nonetheless, the themes of sexuality and identity were written and explored well and I liked how the narrators were split up by limbs. I thought that was very interesting. I also like the history aspect of the book as well.


Thank you to the publishers for the opportunity of reading this book as an E-arc <3

This book follows three decades starting with a teenage girl in the Australian suburbs in the 70s. Her two lives split in the storytelling when on one track she’s caught with another girl and her life implodes, in another she suppresses her love deep down. Each chapter flips between the two timelines and of course sometimes they intersect and this book will make your heart squeeze a billion times.

What’s so beautiful about this story to me is that there is no single right choice or path, it would be easy if the message of this book was that the openly queer timeline was “better” but life isn’t just the one splitting moment, it’s so much of what comes after, the AIDS crisis, the grief that affects every timeline, the friends and the art and the love in every world, and what can’t be suppressed no matter how hard you try.

The first (and not last) quote that made me sob 🥲:

Dave asks, you ever been in love? And because of what I’m afraid I’ll say next, I just nod silently. He makes a hm sound, then asks, had a boyfriend before? I shake my head. Ah, he says. I didn’t think so. Then he asks, quieter now, what’s her name?

(So grateful to be a #DuttonPartner and for @duttonbooks sending me a free book because I’m afraid I wouldn’t have heard about it otherwise!)