QUEER LOVE
I chose the word "queer" in the title of this review for its original meaning (strange, unusual, 0dd, peculiar, curious, bizarre, weird, outlandish, eccentric, unconventional). In chapter one of this novel set in the latter part of the nineteenth century we meet Simion, a boy from West Virginia who is repeatedly abused by his father, a fanatical fundamentalist minister. Then in the second chapter we meet Doriskus and it seems we've began reading a completely new book. There is absolutely nothing in this chapter that references anything we just read in the first. But... wait for it (lol)! In this second chapter, a bachlor English nobleman, on a trip through Greece, stumbles upon the most "beautiful" baby he has ever seen! The mother is unfit and not able to care for the child, so the nobleman purchases Doriskus and brings him back to England to raise as his own.
Both of these "creatures," a descriptor Argiri is fond of using, might be considered savants today and also possibly reside somewhere on the autism spectrum. Simion has genius talents especially in math, the sciences, and languages. Doriskus is a prodigy, a phenomenally talented artist (sculptor, painter). With help Simion is able to escape his abusive father and is accepted to Yale at the age of 17. Ten or so years his senior, he meets Doriskus who is an art professor at Yale having fled a scandal at Oxford University. Both men are "sexual deviants" by the definition used in their time, but their oddities extend well beyond their same sex attractions.
Simion is small and frail with an eating disorder stemming from his abusive childhood. He is bullied by his classmates for his superior intellect and deep devotion to his studies. Doriskus is totally consumed with the sublime, the beautiful, the perfect. He has chosen to remain a virgin as he patiently waits for "the one." In fact, stemming from an incident that occurred while he was at Oxford, he becomes highly intolerant of being touched by anyone even if casually. He has visions of eventually meeting the "perfect love," and, like a premonition, he begins to draw Simion before he ever meets him.
The book becomes largely about the trials and tribulations of this dysfunctional pair who must hide their forbidden love from a world that would despise them. Even today, the age difference and student-professor relationship existing between them would be a problem in a university setting, let alone the overtly religious judgments influencing America in the nineteenth century. The plot, largely about dodging multiple persecutions, revolves around this "love that dare not speak its name" between these two men and how it will be resolved?
Argiri is adept at writing Simion and Doriskus as fully three-dimensional. She also succeeds at this with a few of the other principal characters. With the rest of the supporting cast, however, they are largely either "good" or "evil" with little nuance, making them rather two dimensional and less interesting. Argiri also is clearly no fan of Christianity and its judgmental intolerance of alternative life choices in a society that was intended to be pluralistic. Certainly, this romance is clearly altruistic compared with American society then and now, but it's fiction and a little altruism never hurt anyone!
My other criticism of Arigiri is her style of prose. I suppose in order to help place us in the 1870s, she has chosen to frequently use very arcane language. Thankfully, I could highlight and hold my finger on these words and phrases and Kindle would provide me with definitions most of the time. I ended up depending on this feature a lot in order to capture Argiri's intent in a sentence or paragraph.
I recently purchased a coffee table book assembled by a gay couple that remarkably contains photographs from the 1850s through the 1950s of male couples who are obviously in love. Indeed, the book is titled, "Loving." The authors state that they were convinced of the romantic love existing between these men by looking at their eyes; how they gazed at one another or stared into the lens of the camera, the meaning was unmistakable. As I flipped through this collection of photographs, I often wondered what kind of lives these men led. In reading, The God In Flight, I reflected back to Loving and, although it was fiction of course, I could imagine this story being the one for any number of those couples pictured.