⊹ chinelo ⊹ and the difference between a review and a reflection

Chinelo is a Los Angeles-based reader and book reviewer born on the 27th of February.

You may know Chinelo from her book blog on Instagram, Interested in Black Books, where she documents her current reads followed by lengthy personal reviews of the text that often extend past the caption character limit and flow into the comment section. When I see a “(cont.)” at the end of one of her captions, I know I am about to receive a potent reflection that zooms in on Chinelo’s hearty associations then zooms out into a broader cultural take. It was these captions that drew me to Chinelo’s page over a year ago, making her work more than just another aesthetic bookstagram, but somewhat of a diary as well.

I admire how Chinelo calls these reviews “reflections“, with every single entry titled “~book reflection~“ before unraveling. I feel this is a far more healthy and honest descriptor of what occurs when one is sharing their opinion on another’s perspective and writing style.

We live in a time of casual review culture that extends past products or services, inundated with a constant loop of viewers attempting to calculate the value of a person or their work. One is encouraged to follow up everything they see with an immediate opinion logged into the public sphere, and most take this role quite seriously. This incentive to casually react and judge skids thin across an eternal truth: both humans and their creations are entities with complex souls that cannot be universally judged, defined, or reduced to hierarchies.

Art, literature, music, theater, film, and food have been subject to review by critics for centuries, but these critics were often appointed tastemakers devoted to the culture and history of that particular medium. Although personal and institutional bias will inevitably seep in, there was a sense of trust that critics were analyzing the work with an intelligence beyond instant personal reaction. More importantly, these critiques were in a specific section of a newspaper or website - they had to be sought after - not instantly tied to the work or individual upon view, search, or purchase.

Even more strangely, and far more brand new to the past decade, one can be instantly reviewed by onlookers for simply existing. Humans are not products or services, and yet the way one smiles, talks, decorates, stands next to their partner, stores fat, ages, and so much more, is up for review unprompted. We can even see reviews for the way someone seems to be. For example, you may see a comment on a couple’s cooking blog that states “You seem so fake and full of it. I can tell your boyfriend is unhappy with you and you need to smile more”. Reading like a disgruntled customer outing a specific waiter by name in a one-star Yelp review of a restaurant, the assumption sits proud in a public forum, subjecting others to its empty negativity. This act also poses the questions: Do most consumers of art, literature, or digital content feel like customers? Do they see their attention as a form of payment, and the comment box their source of endorsement or revenge? Remember, humans are not products or services whose expression can be measured.

Or, similarly, someone may review a novel or film based on their own preference alone, dragging down an overall rating with a quick and empty personal ill: “1 star, there was too much dialogue and not enough action“. The heavy dialogue-lovers among us will still find the film and devour it regardless. But, this push for the average person to play panel judge fills the air and internet with unnecessary, unhelpful pixels of assertive negativity. We are made to believe that every passing judgement we make of a person or work is not only important, but true, worthy of visibility and being logged into a database. This inevitably makes us harder on ourselves and others, reducing each other into the likes of good-or-bad binary products. 1 star, red flag, ugly, unworthy. 5 stars, green flag, beautiful, deserving. The complex human soul and its creations are far grander than this.

I am still under the belief that, unless something is, say, a vacuum or window cleaning service, it is not necessarily worthy of review from the average person, who sits armed at their keyboard ready to attempt to alter its context for reasons unknown and untrustable. Vacuums and window cleaning services have a promise and result, one that can be quantified in physical space. They exist in a simple contract with a consumer: this vacuum will make your floors crumb-free, this window cleaner will make your windows see-through. Point A to point B. Their contributions can be analyzed in provable fact, and more importantly, there is no one becoming dehumanized or hijacked in the process.

I find the readiness in which we review humans and their innocent contributions to be extremely off-putting. But, I have absolutely no problem with reflections.

A reflection is far more valuable than a review to both writer and reader, as a reflection is not blinded by its own desire for power and domination. A review wants to possess and change a person or work’s trajectory by the hand of its own judgement. A reflection wants to revel in meaning, frequently questioning its own assumptions and associations. A review constricts, a reflection expands. A reflection is a form of psychoanalysis, it isn’t punitive or destructive, it seeks truth as opposed to trying to control the truth. A reflection is aware of illusion and bias, aware of its own perception and unique reality amongst many; welcoming you to come to your own conclusion.

Observing people and works with reflective language not only contributes to an expanded perspective, but creates an airy and honest environment. Thinking about the books we’ve read or the books we will potentially read should be a leisurely experience, a stroll through various realms and possibilities.

When I told Chinelo how her use of the word “reflection“ sent me on the tangent above, she shared that her switch between the word “review“ to “reflection“ was intentional, a moment captured in that old story post in real time.

Chinelo not only writes to share information and the whims of her mind, but to transmute feelings and sensation; knowing that transferring energy through the screen is no-light-thing. In this tone, followers of her reflections are invited to ask themselves more important questions like, “How would this book make me feel?“ (reflection) as opposed to “Is this book good or bad?“ (review). The former may lead to your next passionate, life-altering affair with a novel, the latter will simply keep you wading in the shallow lands of judgement and calculation.

Chinelo knows she is reacting to what she reads from her own experience, own reality, own taste; all of which are subject to change as Chinelo changes and culture changes. Her reviews guide fellow readers into her own psyche without attempting to hijack theirs.

⊹ what’s on your altar right now ?
⊹ Two pink ceramic hands I sculpted. A keychain from Mexico City that has Mary, mother of Jesus on it that an ex gave me that keychain as homage to my Catholic upbringing even though I'm now an atheist. The Build-A-Bear who sits on my bedside table with a Sacramento Kings jersey. A stack of books I'm switching between. My favorite book of all time would have to be White Man, Listen by Richard Wright. I love Richard Wright.

⊹ when do you feel closest to spirit ,
or , the essence of things ?
⊹ When i read a line in a book that makes me go "Oh I've been here before" or "Oh I get it." You feel less alone when that happens. I also feel very close to the spirit on sunny days. But it has to be a very specific sunny day. Not unbearably hot but a day where your skin ends up feeling toasted. When I was a student at UC Santa Barbara, there were times when I would walk to campus during a sunny day and I literally felt like I was floating, that the sun had invigorated me. Recently I've been feeling closer to a spirit of sorts at sporting games when the energy is really high.

⊹ when do you feel most in your body ?
⊹ Hmm. In a library. After a good five mile run. Or being in company with someone who sees me as I truly see myself. I hate being projected on. Or again, when the sun is beaming down on you and you have nothing to do for the day. Also dancing, but dancing to my taste around people who don't care. There is a part of dancing that can be performative and that's not what I mean.

⊹ who or what has been most influential
to your spirit , your way of seeing and being ?
⊹ When I was a child, I read the Magic Tree House series. I think that changed me forever. Having sickle-cell anemia has def affected how I see things. Life seems less a given. Lastly, I think my cat Chisom is also particularly alive. She feels very real and changes me.

⊹ what song should have been played at your birth?
⊹ Afraid by Amel Larrieux or So Yesterday by Hillary Duff
⊹ your death?
⊹ Try and Love by Ofege. Also He Wasn't Man Enough by Toni Braxton. Timeless Timeless song and I love Toni's voice. Also So Yesterday by Hillary Duff 

⊹ please share an image you’ve taken
that you feel spirit was present for :