Andrew Holleran is one of the great writers of gay literature, whose first novel, the classic Dancer from the Dance, dates back to 1978. This, his most recent novel, was published in 2022.
What is it?
A novel by American writer Andrew Holleran, first published in 2022.
Andrew Holleran of Dancer from the Dance fame?
Yes indeed. What an amazing writing life! Forty-four years separating that novel from this one.
Have the years been kind?
They’ve been very kind to his writing, which remains beautifully fluid, brutally honest, observant, often very funny. But . . .
Oh no!
This is among the most depressing books I’ve read in a very long time. My goodness.
Can you, like, say something about it? We’ve got a review to do here.
Okay, well, it’s a first-person narrative, really a character study of an aging gay man living in a small North Florida town. He moved back there from New York when his parents were ill and then just kind of stayed on. And man oh man, is life bleak! He’s kind of gone halfway back into the closet in this awful suburban-y place, getting his kicks from watching porn and sucking dicks in the men’s washroom at the boat ramp (when the police aren’t around). This is not a town with a Pride parade.
Yikes.
Yeah, this is a brutal portrait of gay aging. He does have some acquaintances in town, including Earl, a gay man twenty years older than him who offers a glimpse into what his own future might look like.
It’s better, I hope.
No, it’s terrible. Holleran describes Earl’s physical and mental decline in some detail. Earl faces his approaching death with dignity, but it ain’t pretty. And he mostly spends his time watching old Hollywood movies, which he adores—but given that we now live in a society where everyone, old and young, spends most of their time streaming this and that, I found this really sad. Is this what we’ve come to? Not just as older gays, or even as gays, but just as a society? Is life so miserable that all we can do is seek diversion?
This sounds like it was a chore to read.
Au contraire! Holleran is a hugely gifted writer, and this is a book you can just read and read. I’m not a fast reader, but I swallowed the whole thing in short order. It’s compulsive reading.
I’m confused. So it’s a massive downer but it’s unputdownable?
Yes. I mean, the unputdownability stems, I guess, from the honesty of the writing. Holleran’s observations are just and honest and deeply felt. I think my issue with the book, ultimately, is that it offers no real ray of light. This is a portrait of a society in decline (the degradation of any notion of community, the deserted houses, the empty streets). In fact, on the last page, there’s mention of a neighbouring house with a “Get on the Trump Train” sign fixed to a tree. As I write this, with Mr. Trump recently re-elected and wreaking havoc worldwide, the book seems a sadly accurate portrait of contemporary American life. So maybe the lack of hope the book projects is right on the money, in a certain way.
Stars?
This is tough. It’s such a beautifully written and observant novel that I have no hesitation in giving it a star. Does it deserve two? I think artists are meant to inspire and enlighten, and mostly this book just made me feel sad and hopeless. So I don’t feel like giving it two stars. On the other hand, I think that what Holleran is writing about—the loneliness of aging gay men—is a subject so rarely written about with honesty that the book is quite exceptional in that regard. So, I’m giving it two stars. But please, don’t read it if you’re feeling fragile.
Write a comment