England, late 1930's. From the point of view of our main character, Brian, most of England remains caught up in itself and is choosing to ignore the problems in Europe - namely, Hitler is in power in Germany and there's violence and war in Spain against Franco's regime.
Right there, that's enough to make me put down a book. I swear that I am missing whatever part of the brain is in charge of understanding history and politics. Maybe that part of my brain has been reassigned to help support my sparkling wit and amazing personality, I don't know. But anyway, I loved this book. Despite the history and politics! And that's no mean feat.
The story is that of Brian and the man he falls in love with, Edward. They're both about 20 years old, but from very different classes. Brian, we learn, is not able to accept being gay and his relationship with Edward, despite the fact that they really do love each other. And this leads Brian to make some pretty crappy decisions with some pretty crappy consequences. It's a love story, it's a story that takes us to war, it's a story about pain and being afraid. I truly was pulled in from the beginning which is a testament to David Leavitt's writing style. And he kept my interest the whole way through.
Two quotes...One is on that page that lists the copyright year, which I always look at to see when the book was written. And underneath that is this line that I don't understand...The moral right of the author has been asserted. Huh? Um...okay...
The other quote comes after Brian and Edward spend their first night sleeping together - and I mean sleeping. Brian wakes up to find Edward, still asleep, cuddled into him and is awakened to more than just a new morning, but to a new potential in life. And he narrates...
Edward had his arm draped over my chest. I could feel little bursts of warmth on my back as he breathed against me. I could hear the knock and whistle of the water pipes, the purr of the calico cat. And at that moment a happiness filled me that was pure and perfect and yet it was bled with despair - as if I had been handed a cup of ambrosial nectar to drink from and knew that once I finished drinking, the cup would be withdrawn forever, and nothing to come would ever taste as good.
Wow. Such a beautiful image, and filled with such sadness at the end. Wow.
This book is gay, and so are you. If Edward was breathing on my back, I'd be like, "Bitch, get off me!" And what the frick is 'ambrosial nector that is happiness bled with despair'? I've done a lotta drinkin' in my life, and I ain't never drank no bleedin' despair. And who would name a character Brian who was alive in 1930? No one was named Brian then. They all had gay-ass names like Edgar or Scott Ellis. This shit's 8 up! And, just to update your profile, you are almost NOT 30 anymore. So, hold onto your dreams before they turn into bloody ambrosia juice boxes, yo.
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