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It's easy to forget today, when publishers are practically firing romance about gay teenagers into our front room windows with trebuchets that there was a time, not that long ago, when a man confessing love for another man was a matter for public shame and criminality. This book was written a little over a hundred years ago and published a little later, so you can feel the hand of the law close to the necks of not only the characters but if the author, who was risking prosecution just for not having the protagonist come to a bad end.
Weird to us now of course. What the fuck were people thinking back then? But that's how it was, and that's how it still is in a lot of places.
It's a really well-told story, full of drama but with that added pressure-cooker element of societal disapproval. It's much better than Lady Chatterley's lover which is a similar vintage and deals with similar taboo-breaking (an illicit relationship between people of different classes) but is a bit cringey.
Weird to us now of course. What the fuck were people thinking back then? But that's how it was, and that's how it still is in a lot of places.
It's a really well-told story, full of drama but with that added pressure-cooker element of societal disapproval. It's much better than Lady Chatterley's lover which is a similar vintage and deals with similar taboo-breaking (an illicit relationship between people of different classes) but is a bit cringey.