COLORED TELEVISION

When her second novel hits a wall, a biracial California writer makes a desperate attempt to start a TV career.

One of the funniest scenes in this brilliant, of-the-moment, just really almost perfect book happens early on, in a flashback to the party in Brooklyn where Jane met Lenny, her husband and the father of their two kids. Feeling that she’s aging out of the dating game, Jane has recently consulted an “intuitive psychodynamic counselor with a specialty in racial alchemy,” aka a psychic, who told her she’s about to meet her future husband, a funny, tall, handsome Black man who would be wearing “West Coast shoes.” But when she meets Lenny, who seems to perfectly fit this description, he’s with a very possessive white girlfriend. “Ebony and ivory, together in disharmony...perhaps because it was her origin story, she could not bear the sight of interracial love.” She calls the psychic from the party to confirm. The psychic says it’s definitely him, and then goes into a rant against intermarriage. “Listen, our ancestors didn’t survive the horrors of the Middle Passage so some Caucasoid poet could miscegenate us out of existence.” He also says that if she doesn’t get this guy, she’ll be alone for 24 years. That gets her moving. And since Senna is married to the writer Percival Everett, it’s kind of fun to imagine that this intellectual, anti-capitalist, abstract visual artist husband is sort of...yeah. But that’s just one of the great things. The rant about teaching Gen Z versus millennial college students is sure to kill any college professor (“She had in recent years begun to assign only minimalist autofiction by queer POC authors to her undergraduates, and she had to admit it was a better classroom experience for all”), and the story of Jane’s doomed second novel, an opus on biracial characters in history that she’s spent 10 years writing, is literary satire par excellence, like R.F. Kuang’s Yellowface or Everett’s Erasure. Anyone who’s ever been obsessed with a Hanna Andersson catalog: You are also the target market. The only reason we said “almost perfect” earlier is that there’s a big plot twist that doesn’t quite compute, but if you care, that makes one of us.

That’s entertainment.