Sydney’s character growth is of another kind but no less impressive, as she learns to trust herself and to let go in healthy ways. Watching her become herself is beautiful. I love the way Karin Kallmaker describes the impact faith has on Faith (that name…) and how different it is from the impact the church has on her, and her journey to accepting herself as she is. To me, faith isn’t necessarily linked to organized religion, it’s personal, something that’s between you and you, or you and your god(s). I nevertheless find faith fascinating, the way it helps people who believe, the way it can sometimes lift them up.

I grew up in a non-religious Jewish family, where being Jewish is more culture than religion. I am not a Catholic, I am not a religious person either, though I’m no stranger to spirituality. As a recovering alcoholic, she doesn’t want to give in to temptation, worried it might lead her back to her drink of choice, Glenfiddich. The attraction is mutual but unsettles Sydney just as much. All the feelings Faith has been struggling with for years come back, and as hard as she fights them, she can’t resist nor can she repent. Sydney is everything she loves: smart, dedicated, strong. When Eric introduces her to his sister, all of Faith’s well-constructed persona fails her. She’s dating Eric Van Allen, a nice and sweet architect, whom she really loves, albeit in a mostly platonic way. She’s a good Catholic girl – despite not being a girl anymore since she’s in her thirties –, still living at home with her parents and her brother, a naval officer who got hurt in the course of duty. I don’t remember reading it since, and listening to this story so many years later, masterfully narrated by Abby Craden, was a whole new and captivating experience.įaith Fitzgerald is a respected and dedicated historian.

Karin Kallmaker is one of the first lesfic authors I ever read, and this specific book is the first lesbian romance I translated.

Wild things karin kallmaker