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sean_kennelly 's review for:
A Single Man
by Christopher Isherwood
I have never heard of Christopher Isherwood and was first drawn to the book because of its recognisable red Vintage spine - usually an indicator that a book is worth a least a look. The plot described by the blurb seemed to me akin to the sort of short stories I used to read about 8 years ago, when I was wrapped up in Carver and Tobias Wolff. And with a length of only 150 pages it was worth a shot.
I'm glad I did. It was beautiful and sad and entertaining throughout. It's about George, a middle-aged gay Englishman living in L.A., and dealing with aftermath of his partner Jim's sudden death. We witness a day in his life as he goes about his morning, teaches as a university English professor, has dinner with an old friend, and gets drunk with one of his students. The book is very intimate, cascading through all his jumbled thoughts - bitter and beautiful, resentful and loving. He is reeling with grief, and although his thoughts are confrontational, challenging and searching, this is the one topic skirted at all times. Except when he thinks of his home, which is home no more, now tragically empty and lonely. Rather than being there he veers off into the company of others, whether he really wants to see them or not.
His unique perspective was what made the book for me. He is semi out of the closet, as his neighbours know that he was living with a man, but it is still a secret in his professional world. He is an outsider not just because he is gay, but because he is foreign. In fact, his Englishness allows him a certain level of eccentricity and otherness that makes his homosexuality more acceptable in the eyes of his neighbours. It's the early 1960s - this isn't a given. Unlike black people and immigrants, whose neighbourhoods he drives past on his way to work, he "passes" for someone accepted by society. He feels kinship with those other disenfranchised peoples, whether misplaced or not. His grief is also nearly entirely unspoken. As mentioned, no one at work knows he even had a partner, let alone that they died, and for some reason he has told all his neighbours that Jim moved back home rather than admitting to them that he has died. I expect it's a natural response for someone who has had to keep their private life more private than most due to societal intolerance and misunderstanding.
I got this book at a charity shop in Sidmouth.
I'm glad I did. It was beautiful and sad and entertaining throughout. It's about George, a middle-aged gay Englishman living in L.A., and dealing with aftermath of his partner Jim's sudden death. We witness a day in his life as he goes about his morning, teaches as a university English professor, has dinner with an old friend, and gets drunk with one of his students. The book is very intimate, cascading through all his jumbled thoughts - bitter and beautiful, resentful and loving. He is reeling with grief, and although his thoughts are confrontational, challenging and searching, this is the one topic skirted at all times. Except when he thinks of his home, which is home no more, now tragically empty and lonely. Rather than being there he veers off into the company of others, whether he really wants to see them or not.
His unique perspective was what made the book for me. He is semi out of the closet, as his neighbours know that he was living with a man, but it is still a secret in his professional world. He is an outsider not just because he is gay, but because he is foreign. In fact, his Englishness allows him a certain level of eccentricity and otherness that makes his homosexuality more acceptable in the eyes of his neighbours. It's the early 1960s - this isn't a given. Unlike black people and immigrants, whose neighbourhoods he drives past on his way to work, he "passes" for someone accepted by society. He feels kinship with those other disenfranchised peoples, whether misplaced or not. His grief is also nearly entirely unspoken. As mentioned, no one at work knows he even had a partner, let alone that they died, and for some reason he has told all his neighbours that Jim moved back home rather than admitting to them that he has died. I expect it's a natural response for someone who has had to keep their private life more private than most due to societal intolerance and misunderstanding.
I got this book at a charity shop in Sidmouth.