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Is it poignant or pathetic to be in that predicament? Are options foreclosed on him by society - especially a retrograde Florida town - or did the narrator cut off options all on his own? Holleran, like his narrator, dwells less on causes than feelings - impending death as a sensory experience. “How else do we explain the age segregation in gay bars?” Toward the novel’s end, the narrator cruises a Walgreens with relentless, eager eyes - what other place keeps nightclub hours in a town like this, for a man like him? “The cliche that homosexuals are such aesthetes that images of old age tend to horrify them is not entirely untrue,” the narrator observes. But Holleran also understands them as particular to a culture trained on (as the title of his 1995 novel put it) the beauty of men. “It seemed to me that had buried himself alive like the man in the story by Edgar Allan Poe,” he writes, oblivious to the shovel in his own hands.Īging, frailty and death are universal themes. The narrator has lost both his parents and left most of his close friendships behind in New York he clings to Earl out of a fear of intimacy he only half-acknowledges. Rather, the suspense is over how - and whether - the narrator is going to confront his and Earl’s mortality. The tension in the two men’s “shared loneliness together” has little to do with plot - it’s clear from the start that everybody is headed in one direction, underground.
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The titles of their classic movie selections grow darkly suggestive: “Quo Vadis,” “Psycho,” “I Want to Live!” The increasing presence of a handyman raises suspicions. Earl is quiet and diffident, except to express surprisingly right-wing politics. One of Earl’s bathrooms is closed because it’s constantly attracting cockroaches. And Holleran slowly gives the relationship an increasingly otherworldly, creepy vibe. Regardless, a Library of America volume would be the least he deserves.Ī world filled with art but no nature is, well, unnatural. Blame the long waits between books, or a mainstream literary culture that’s often treated LGBTQ fiction as a niche enterprise. His essays and other works of fiction are similarly rooted in the lives of gay men, but his Jamesian powers of observation haven’t translated into major prizes or name recognition. His 2006 novel, “Grief,” is a melancholy masterpiece about how so many of those men were cut down by AIDS. Holleran’s debut, 1978’s “ Dancer From the Dance,” is among the great post-Stonewall novels, capturing the fading youth of a coterie of gay New York men. Which is to say that it continues the project Holleran began four decades ago: elegant, contemplative works obsessed with matters of intimacy and loss.
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“This story is about the things we accumulate during a lifetime but cannot bear to part with before we die,” its unnamed narrator explains.
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Andrew Holleran’s fifth novel, “ The Kingdom of Sand,” announces its theme early.