‘My quietest, grandest dream … is that this book will blur boundaries - or better yet, expose how illusory most boundaries are in the first place.’ (9) Whilst Chandra Prasad’s intention is a noble one, it simultaneously runs the risk of lumping ‘mixed’ writers into a single category, just the thing these writers have often tried to avoid. This paradox is at the crux of the mixed experience: a desire for recognition and also a desire for this recognition not to be restricted by arbitrary features usually imposed by those unfamiliar with the mixed experience. This imposition itself is often what constitutes the mixed experience: it is the questions and probings of outsiders, the desire to categorise what is perceived as distinct from normative racial categorisations, that often triggers the multiracial experience of attempting to articulate an identity. These writers demonstrate that, if the mixed experience is to be recognised, it must be recognised for its variety, portraying as they do encounters that are varied and complex. At the same time, however, there are certain resonances between the stories that are undeniably familiar to people of mixed heritage. And as Prasad points out, it is only since 2000 that US citizens have been allowed to choose more than one racial category on the census, giving federal recognition to a mixed identity. There is a definite legal and political need to recognise the existence of mixed citizens but also a simultaneous need to recognise their individuality.

The short stories in this collection vary a great deal in their content and form. Settings range from the university campus to the trailer parks of Wyoming, while characters include lawn jockeys and minotaurs. Certain themes and tropes reverberate across the stories, as with the recurring use of hair. This seemingly innocuous physical trait is used to draw our attention to the construction and subtleties of racial discourse. For Sam, in ‘Effigies’, hair is the only physical attribute that proves he has black heritage, that his identity as Professor of Africana Studies is justified, and that his masculinity is intact.

Some of the most successful stories are those with child protagonists. The afterwords to each story are perhaps unnecessary, as the writing often speaks for itself, most eloquently in stories such as ‘Mrs. Turner’s Lawn Jockeys’ where a child is beginning to understand that their heritage is an issue; that others find their heritage cause for concern. These are stories where protagonist perceptions and the writing are at their most subtle and intriguing, as the young voices begin processes of negotiation that they will most likely pursue for the rest of their lives. In stories such as ‘Shadey’, race is never even mentioned. There is instead a foreboding undercurrent at this young stage as the characters attempt to come to terms with the difference that has been attributed to them.

You don’t have to be mixed to appreciate these stories. There are obvious echoes for mixed readers that are invaluable for canonising the mixed experience, but ultimately many of these stories are worth reading for their writing - for the delicacy of style that is demanded of such a knotty issue.