Make the mistake of reading Sean Perera’s debut novel, A Butterfly, while hungry, and you will soon find yourself craving all manner of deliciousness from kebabs to kothu to well-brewed coffee.

No one would define this book as foodie fiction, but readers are shepherded through the story by a rich and varied array of food that sits at the centre of almost every scene. 

Food, after all, is what brings people together. It can signify shared identity. It can also be used to divide, alienate and control us, and food carries all these meanings in the novel at one point or another.

Most importantly, food is something all of us can relate to. That is also the great strength of this novel.
To some readers, A Butterfly may seem to broach a niche topic: a young Sri Lankan gay man commences a science degree at a university in Sydney, Australia.

Perera’s mode of storytelling, however, brings his audience in, whoever we may be, rather than making us feel unwelcome. He warmly invites us to take a comfy seat and nibble a devilled cashew while he regales us with his highly readable tale.

The novel’s main character and narrator, who remains unnamed until the end, is gentle and charming, a bit of a wistful dreamer. He tries to get along with people and mostly fits in.

There is a boy he likes who is also lovely and seems to like him back.

However, the plot also brings our narrator into contact with others who seem compelled to exclude or bully him.

Each reduces him to a category that makes sense to their worldview – to them, he is an unnatural transgressor, a naïve sissy, an exotic ‘curry’, a university cash cow.

Nowhere is immune, not his Sri Lankan student social group, the Sydney LGBTIQ+ scene, or his home country when he returns for the holidays.

Nonetheless, he knows who he is and what he wants and persistently follows his own path. His positivity, curiosity and network of kindred spirits buoy him.

They also buoy the book itself, which never sinks into trauma-porn, but projects an optimistic love of life while also acknowledging that things need to change.

The ordinary experiences of international students studying at Australian universities have been little explored in Australian popular culture. The specific experiences of Sri Lankan students and LGBTIQ+ international students have been explored still less. 

In that sense, this book makes an original and compelling contribution to Australian literature.
It also has a role to play in opening eyes among queer communities and straight families on both sides of the Indian Ocean.

The work deftly shifts and weaves between Sri Lankan and Australian cultures, colourfully introducing readers to amusing colloquialisms, iconic objects and sacred rituals that bring both places to life.
Layered on this are Perera’s nuanced depictions of social change in both countries. Like the fluttering butterfly, both are moving, nothing set in stone.

In different ways, both are marked by lingering legacies of British colonialism as well as the multitudinous influences of globalisation.

LGBTIQ+ rights must still be fought for everywhere, but there are good people and allies everywhere too.

A Butterfly draws on a few of the bread-and-butter tropes we might expect of queer-themed fiction, such as the discovery of young love, the challenges of coming out, and the exhausting banality of everyday homophobia.

But the novel is more complex than this, providing a unique cross-cultural take on a queer coming-of-age story.

Reviewed by Lindy Orthia
Dr Lindy Orthia is a Melbourne-based researcher and writer. She has published many academic works on fiction, cross-cultural matters, and queerness. Her edited books include Doctor Who and Race (2013, Intellect) and Queering Science Communication (2023, Bristol UP, co-edited with Tara Roberson).