Reviewer: Alan Chin
Publisher: Bloomsbury USA
Pages: 400
Edmund White has laid out an ambitious tale that chronicles
the shifting sands of the sexual revolution—as seen from both straight and gay
viewpoints—from the early ’60s until the start of the AIDS years. White
presents the gay perspective through the eyes of Jack Holmes, a man who realizes
he is gay when he falls for his straight fellow journalist and work-buddy. The
straight point of view is seen through the eyes of failed novelist, Will
Wright, Jack Holmes’s love interest.
The first third of the story is a cliché coming out story
where Jack anguishes over his unrequited love for Will, while struggling to
deal with his ‘illness’ of being gay. The story shifts to Will’s point of view,
where Will experiences the cliché “straight-man in mid-life crises”, while Jack
goes on the prowl every night for sex, both characters becoming the liberated
sexual animal that was common during the ‘70s. The story switches back to
Jack’s POV as they enter the AIDS epidemic and both characters are forced to
make adjustments to their relationship and their lifestyles.
On the surface, this is gay/straight friendship with all it s
highs and lows, the kind of story that’s been written a dozen times or more.
Dig down a few layers, and the reader sees the progression of the gay movement
by two self-absorbed characters dealing with the changing times and changing
attitudes.
White is a master at eloquent prose, and I applaud the
ambitious scope of this story. I did, however, find this a difficult, often
boring read. Neither Jack nor Will are particularly interesting or likable. I
often felt that Will was merely a mouthpiece to spout every straight cliché
attitude of the times. Once the story switched to Will first-person point of
view, the story looses what little momentum it had, and was never able to
recover it.
White’s flowing narrative and social observations, however
expressive, is chocked full of tedious description. It occasionally felt like
wading through molasses. His articulate prose, however, was the bright star of
this work—at times lyrical, other times gripping.
Admittedly, I’ve never been a huge fan of Edmund White’s
work, and this novel did little to alter my opinion.