Babycakes

Tales of the City #4

by Armistead Maupin

Début des années quatre-vingt, Reagan dirige l'Amérique, hésitant entre conservatisme pur et dur et saut en avant technologique. Les Yuppies dopés sont des acharnés du travail, les gays californiens sont à la pointe du combat pour l'évolution des mœurs et des mentalités et le sida commence à frapper les corps et les esprits. C'est ce moment que choisit la reine Elisabeth II pour effectuer sa première visite à San Francisco. Un symbole à elle seule, la reine d'Angleterre ! Représentante de la vieille Europe, des traditions et d'un certain art de vivre. En décalage complet avec celui des avant-gardistes californiens. Mais c'est justement ce côté kitsch qui leur plaît. Son côté bonne vieille mamie ! Comme Mme Madrigal, la logeuse de la petite résidence communautaire de Barbary Lane. Une grand-mère qui aurait été de tous les combats des années passées, qui cultive de magnifiques plants d'herbe dans son jardin et qui avant son opération était un homme. Il y a aussi Brian qui rêve d'enfants et d'une vie d'homme au foyer, sa femme Mary Ann, journaliste prête à tout pour assumer à la fois sa vie professionnelle et sentimentale et enfin Michael qui vient de perdre son amour, victime du sida.

Et puis, il y a le bonheur du hasard qui parfois fait bien les choses, l'humour et la fantaisie romanesque de Maupin qui sauve ses personnages d'un vaudeville qui aurait pu être dramatique. C'est toute la force de ses chroniques de raconter une époque en l'imaginant souvent plus belle que la réalité mais en misant sans compter sur l'amour et la solidarité. --Stellio Paris

Genres: Fiction, LGBT, Queer, Gay, Gay Fiction, Contemporary, Novels

379 pages, Mass Market Paperback

First published March 1, 1984

About the author

Armistead Maupin was born in Washington, D.C., in 1944 but grew up in Raleigh, North Carolina. A graduate of the University of North Carolina, he served as a naval officer in the Mediterranean and with the River Patrol Force in Vietnam.

Maupin worked as a reporter for a newspaper in Charleston, South Carolina, before being assigned to the San Francisco bureau of the Associated Press in 1971. In 1976 he launched his groundbreaking Tales of the City serial in the San Francisco Chronicle.

Maupin is the author of nine novels, including the six-volume Tales of the City series, Maybe the Moon, The Night Listener and, most recently, Michael Tolliver Lives. Three miniseries starring Olympia Dukakis and Laura Linney were made from the first three Tales novels. The Night Listener became a feature film starring Robin Williams and Toni Collette.

He is currently writing a musical version of Tales of the City with Jason Sellards (aka Jake Shears) and John Garden (aka JJ) of the disco and glam rock-inspired pop group Scissor Sisters. Tales will be directed by Jason Moore (Avenue Q and Shrek).

Maupin lives in San Francisco with his husband, Christopher Turner.

Reviews

[Fabian · Rating 4 out of 5]

Now we see where the genius of Will and Grace and Sex and the City is derived from: This incredible series does not disappoint, it's very much incapable of failing us, and I am happy to report that #4 is better still than 3. SO... This one is the best in the series THUS FAR! And speak of historic!: it's the first novel ever to make a mention of AIDS... but before that gets to be a complete black cloud it provides a background that can only be improved with color and comedy, all of which Mr. Maupin bestows in huge dollops!

And: what is it with his characters always getting spirited away, eh? At least one character in the book is always away having his/her own brand of adventures in an altogether different climate, in some other such city. Is the entire saga, then, just about the times, the 80s, the sad gay melodramatic and fabulous 80s (decade of my birth)? Yeah, and its about San Fran, but then it manages to encapsulate a whole lot more than that, extending its comedic plotlines & becoming, as a result, as whimsical (outlandish) as possible, by inadvertently exposing hidden, deeper, more complex meanings in the occurrence of these beloved characters' lives. This, my friends, possesses HAh-yuuGE & considerable historic clout; it's very zeitgeisty. Michael's escapade in London is perhaps the best strand of narrative witness so far: bittersweet, poignant. It resembles a more vibrant, no-less sympathetic anecdote by Alan Hollinghurst. Yup, for me the England interlude was brilliant! The writing is much less erratic this time around: Concentrating on two strands of plot, rather than 4 or 5, is a clear sense of maturity for the awesome creator of some of the silliest stuff imaginable, this side of "A Confederacy of Dunces."

This one, Babycakes, a proper term of endearment even for the likes of me, I must admit, is so far my fave.

Do it jest git better and better? Damn you Maupin!

[Charles Eliot · Rating 4 out of 5]

Babycakes is a far better book than its three predecessors in the Tales of the City series.

Between the previous book and Babycakes, Armistead Maupin realised that he couldn't keep writing about gay life in San Francisco as if AIDS hadn't happened. Babycakes begins shortly after the death from AIDS of one of its main characters. The book aches with the pain of that loss. It's a book about the transition from youth and innocence and adventure to adulthood, with the attendant gravity, ambiguity, strain, pain, and confusion.

In Babycakes Maupin also starts to write about the inner emotional life of gay men with more depth, pathos, and authority than he did before. In the three earlier books Maupin's voice is authentic and genuine and sometimes moving, but in Babycakes he moves way beneath the outward shows.

Babycakes is sometimes called a dark book, but I think that's mostly a relative judgment. Maupin's writing is still suffused with wit and archness, and Babycakes is still a fast read. The pace, however, is better than before. The first three books betray their newspaper column origins in their identically short, snack-sized chapters. In Babycakes the chapters have more variety, so the narrative has more room to breath. This is especially important in the critical scenes and conversations. Armistead Maupin creates wonderful dialog, and finally in Babycakes those dialogs have space to develop. (The scene where Mona learns about Jon's death is a good example of a moment that would have been ruined by the imposition of an arbitrary chapter boundary.)

With Babycakes, the Tales of the City books rise majestically from being frivolous fun to being important works.

[Richard Derus · Rating 3 out of 5]

Never imagine for a moment that Author Maupin is lacking in spinal steel: He kills off a character, a lovely and belovèd character, with the sangfroid of a CIA-trained assassin. It was a painful loss, but it resonated with what was happening in our lives about that time (1984). And there's nothing in any universe anywhere that makes losing someone you've loved easy.

Why I don't rate the read higher than three stars is simple: Author Maupin lost control of his cast. Scattered from pillar to post, incoherence of events plagues the story, and that severely limits my pleasure in the read. I won't re-read it, but the issue of its uncenteredness is only part of the reason.

[LenaRibka · Rating 4 out of 5]

I have never been a fan of Mary Ann. Actually I don't understand WHY everyone likes her. Doesn't matter. In this sequel she MAY be overdone.



WTF?! How someone COULD come to SUCH a STUPID idea for such a SERIOUS problem?!

But I can't help myself. The series is sooooo entertaining that I have no other option as to go on with it.

[Mark · Rating 5 out of 5]

A poor Irish Widow, her husband having died in one of the Lanes of Edinburgh, went forth with her three children, bare of all resource, to solicit help from the Charitable Establishments of that City.

At this Charitable Establishment and then at that she was refused; referred from one to the other, helped by none; till she had exhausted them all; till her strength and heart failed her: she sank down in typhus-fever; died, and infected her Lane with fever, so that seventeen other persons died of fever there in consequence.

The humane Physician asks thereupon, as with a heart too full for speaking, “Would it not have been economy to help this poor Widow? She took typhus-fever and killed seventeen of you! The forlorn Irish Widow applies to her fellow-creatures, as if saying, ‘Behold I am sinking, bare of help: ye must help me! I am your sister, bone of your bone; one God made us: ye must help me!’

They answer, 'No; impossible: thou art no sister of ours.'

But she proves her sisterhood; her typhus-fever kills them. They actually were her brothers, though denying it!

Had man ever to go lower for a proof?

--Thomas Carlyle, 1795-1881

Often when we think about literature of the city, we imagine the story will be about loneliness and aloneness in a great metropolis. Though people might be surrounded by thousands upon thousands of people, they often do not know the name of their next-door neighbor.

Yet, upon a closer reading of urban stories, readers often find that many of these tales are also about the search for human connection and the creation of family not based on blood-ties. It is no surprise then that urban literature frequently tells the story of people who find themselves thrust into situations where they are forced to remember they are part of a collective even if they do not know their neighbor. No individual is truly alone.

“Uh…are you OK, hon?”

Michael mopped up quickly with his napkin and received his dinner. “Sure, I’m fine…”
The waiter wouldn’t buy it…If your’re fine, I’m Joan Collins.”

Michael smiled at him. He couldn’t help thinking of a waitress he had known years ago in Orlando. She, too, had called him “hon” without ever knowing his name. This man had a black leather vest and keys clipped to his Levi’s, but he reached out to strangers in exactly the same way.

Detective stories, for example, tell the story of persons who become connected to someone they may not know—a thief or murderer--and a previously unknown law enforcement individual who provides help in a time of crisis.

Novels of Charles Dickens frequently show how the rich and poor are connected. We see this in a novella like A Christmas Carol, or a longer novel like Great Expectations.

It is also no surprise that literature of the city often uses the motif of a plague. Persons who do not know one another are suddenly forced to remember they are connected as a great disease affects those in the city.

One of the first works of literature that included AIDS in the story of a city was Babycakes,Armistead Maupin’s fourth novel in the Tales of the City series.

During the early years of the plague (1982-1985), AIDS was often known as a gay disease. In fact, it was called GRID (Gay-Related Immune Deficiency). San Francisco, with its large gay population, was one of the first cities to begin to feel consequences of the disease as thousands of residents began to die. Yet, during those early years, many in the straight population saw little connection to those dying men. It was easy to ignore the disease and think it required no response except, maybe, to further isolate gay people from the rest of society.

“Everyone detected with AIDS should be tattooed in the upper forearm, to protect common-needle users, and on the buttocks, to prevent the victimization of other homosexuals…
The Scarlet Letter was designed to stimulate public obloquy. The AIDS tattoo is designed for private protection. And the whole point of this is that we are not talking about a kidding matter. Our society is generally threatened, and in order to fight AIDS, we need the civil equivalent of universal military training.”

--William F. Buckley, Jr in his 1986 op-ed piece, “Crucial Steps in Combating the Aids Epidemic; Identify All the Carriers.”

However, later in the decade, the work of gay activists, the death of actor Rock Hudson, and the realization that some gay persons infected or dying included co-workers, friends, and family members caused some straight persons to see that even they were connected to the city’s gay residents.

Then, the connection became stronger as people understood that HIV / AIDS did not discriminate.

Unexpected and previously unknown links between people become clear and known.

In Maupin’s novel, Babycakes (perhaps the most realistic and somber of the first four novels) Michael confronts the AIDS-related death of his lover, Jon Fielding, who left his life while surrounded by his chosen family.

Before he can begin to recover from Jon’s death, however, Mouse must grieve and confront his fears of love and commitment. It is his chosen family that helps him slowly reenter the world of the living.

This novel in the series may be among Maupin’s most sensitive. After all, he published the book in 1984 when AIDS began to kill his own friends, lovers, and acquaintances.

Perhaps, too, it should not surprise readers that Mary Ann no longer seems to be Maupin’s primary interest. Now his attention is on Michael, who is confronting death, and Brian, who is now married to Mary Ann and desirous of bringing life into the world.

Not all is somber, however, as Michael takes a trip to England and reestablishes a relationship with his friend Mona who is also the daughter of Mrs. Madrigal. There is even the touching story of a sixteen-year-old boy and the rescue of a fox.

Like other Maupin novels, the plot is a comedy of manners and sometimes takes a strange turn. This one ends as Queen Elizabeth receives a manicure from the nanny of a former British naval officer who was an acquaintance of Michael, Mary Ann, and Brian. And, with these tales, Maupin reminds us that unexpected and unknown links exist among people.

While true that Babycakestakes a sad turn from previous books in the series as individuals and families suffer from loss brought about by disease, it also tells the story of recovery made possible with the care of a family of choice. As urban literature often makes clear, we individuals are not alone but are threads in a greater fabric of connections that sometimes loom large and horrifying, but that also may prove intimate, unyielding, and loving.

Though it is not necessary to read the previous books in the series, readers will find a richer experience if they begin at the beginning. Babycakes, however, (even after this, my fourth or fifth reading) may be my favorite of the first four novels.

[David B · Rating 4 out of 5]

Armistead Maupin seems unable to make a plot work without relying on the most outrageous coincidences and chance meetings. So why do I enjoy this series so much? I think it’s because he so successfully communicates his love for his characters to me, so that I am actually looking forward to each unexpected encounter and unforeseeable event that turns everyone’s lives upside down. Maybe Maupin’s style of story construction is a natural outgrowth of developing as a writer in the gay subculture of San Francisco. SF is a large city that probably often felt like a small community, so why shouldn’t the rest of the world be that way, too? Wouldn’t it be nice if it were?

[Daniel Myatt · Rating 5 out of 5]

2025 - I'm rereading all the books in order, and it's so interesting reading how the characters grow and develop.

Mary Ann maybe be a bitch but I still love her.


2024 - So, 30 years after my first read, I finally got some of the jokes and references here!

Also Mary Ann begins to become a bitch much earlier in the series then I recall.

And also what a brilliant book!

[Dennis Holland · Rating 4 out of 5]

This soapy, sexy and super silly saga continues to shock and surprise me even as I read the original series a second time. I cannot wait for my next fix of ‘The Bold and the Beautiful’ bohemians of Barbary Lane.

[Sophia · Rating 4 out of 5]

This one was definitely a lot sadder than the first three... In between the Aids crisis hit and I spent several scenes crying. There is still some whimsy and absurd humorous plot lines but all in all it deals with human relationships in a very serious way and let's the reader feel all the dark sides

[audrey · Rating 4 out of 5]

Oh my heart. I had forgotten how terrible and wonderful this installment was.

[Issy Dudley · Rating 3 out of 5]

An easy read was a necessity for revision time, so a return to Tales of the City made sense. This one was still just as silly and telenovela as the last three, but also hit on some very sad notes as the first book EVER published mentioning the AIDS crisis, who knew.
A 3.5 from me, but not fair that the half star was more than likely knocked off by stress more than anything else

[Armin · Rating 3 out of 5]

Vierter und bislang romanhaftester Teil der Saga, bei dem erstmals alle Handlungsstränge miteinander korrespondieren. Kernkonflikt ist der unerfüllbare Babywunsch Brians, der als einziger nichts von seiner Sterilität weiß und unter einer fiesen Kombination von Midlife-Crisis und Minderwertigkeitskomplexen leidet. Denn der einstige Bürgerrechtsanwalt ist immer noch Kellner und hat auch noch einen fiesen Kollegen an der Backe, während Mary-Anns Karriere immer steiler nach oben geht.
Gleich zu Beginn gelingt ihr, dank ein wenig Unterstützung von DeDe, ein Interview mit der Queen und dann zieht sie als nächsten Coup auch noch den heimlich abgemusterten Funker der königlichen Yacht an Land. Der Deserteur ist ein zehn Jahre jüngeres Ebenbild von Brian und dann auch noch Nachbar für einen Monat. Denn er tauscht für diesen Zeitraum sein Londoner Apartment mit Michael Tolliver, der in London endlich über seinen Blues wegen des Todes von Jon hinweg kommen, der im Verlauf der Reise tatsächlich aufgearbeitet wird.
Als Teenager hatte Tolliver in London sein erstes mal mit einem Maurer, doch die Sentimental Journey dauert nur kurz, der 16jährige Halb-Maori aus der Wohnung drüber hat ein Auge auf ihn geworfen und dann gibt es auch noch zwei unverhoffte Wiedersehen mit Mona, die im Lady-Di-Look in London und auf dem Land herum läuft, aber jedes mal die Flucht ergreift.

Bindeglied zur Westküsten-Handlung und die Gründe für das Scheitern von Mary-Annes Plänen zur Fremdbegattung sind die Eltern des Funkers mit dem Sexy-Body, der sie aber immerhin vier mal beglückt, während der treue Schluffen Brian die knackige Witwe seines Rock-Idols vor den Kopf stößt, um früher nach Hause zu kommen. Am Ende rettet ein zugeflogenes Kind noch einmal die Beziehung, aber Mary-Anns Beichte, dass es so lange gedauert hätte, Brian überhaupt zu lieben, gibt schon einen Vorgeschmack auf unausweichliche Vorfälle im sechsten Teil. Zumal sie ihren Mann wirklich für jeden Scheiß versetzt, sogar für eine Reportage über ein Tortilla mit Jesus-Gesicht. Aber das ist vielleicht auch eine Berufskrankheit.
Auch wenn sie in diesem Buch als Heuchlerin dargestellt wird, kommt sie plastischer rüber als in den vorhergehenden Büchern, der Plot um ihr Liebeskomplott entwickelt eine großartige Sogwirkung.
Natürlich lässt auch dieser Maupin einige Wünsche offen, angefangen beim nicht überlieferten Interview mit der Queen, andererseits gibt es kaum zusammenhanglose Episoden zu beklagen. Wer sich am Schmalz und einigen, außerhalb der Stadtgeschichtenwelt, wenig wahrscheinlichen Wendungen nicht stört, kann mit Tollivers Reisen ein paar angenehm unterhaltsame Stunden verbringen.

[Julie · Rating 4 out of 5]

I relate to the Tales of the City books a bit like I relate to Doritos. I love them. I know they aren't good for me. I consume them sparingly. And that way it seems like a real treat when I do.

I'm not sure why I picked up Babycakes when I did. Middle of the night, cold, not sleeping--it seemed a cheering thought. And indeed it was. these were (if you do not know) originally published as a serial in the SF newspaper so they are all made up of many short chapters. Tons of stuff happens. vivid, if not entirely believable, characters. Cliffhangers abound. At the same time (and this really struck me this time) they are a time capsule to a different age. So in this one there's a lot about the homophobic environment in SF. (Should I shelve as "historical novel? I think not. It was contemporary, it's just old.) And AIDS is lurking just over the horizon--something I am more aware of than the characters. And that gives the books a certain kind of heft and substance even as they are kind of fantastic.

If you've not read them, you should go through the first time in order. There are important character arcs to follow. I'll go on to the next, just for fun. But I'm not sure I'll make it to the end.

[Chris · Rating 4 out of 5]

Slightly more character driven than the previous instalments and there were some 'twists' I figured out in advance and then others that made me actually gasp! I thought that I was going to be upset with the ending at one point, but it all went perfectly in the end and I am totally obsessed with these characters now. It's becoming a favourite series and I still have 5 books left! I can't wait!

[Greg · Rating 4 out of 5]

At the end of The Beatles "Abbey Road" album, there is a coda (the band's shortest song) entitled 'Her Majesty', a salute to England's Queen. Maupin's coda here is entitled 'In the Pink' in which a Miss Treves (a descendant, no doubt, of the miniature* manicurist Miss Mowcher in "David Copperfield" by Dickens) and the Queen appear. It's quite nice, really, as is this entire story: one of recovery and of hope for the future. "Babycakes" is easily my favorite of the first 4 in this series because it (1) nicely pulls together various stories and feels more like a carefully planned narrative/novel. Then again, (2) perhaps Maupin has sharpened his skills as a writer? Or, is it that (3) the author has written a series aging beautifully? No matter, "Babycakes" is just lovely as a glowing piece of history.**
*I'm using this term only because it just sounds right and I'm using it lovingly. I mean no offense.
**There is often more truth in fiction than in reality to me.

[Scott · Rating 2 out of 5]

This was a disappointing installment in a favorite series. The two main story lines are barely interesting, and even love for the characters can’t save the book. Mouse is still Mouse (he earns both the stars in this review). But the Mary Ann of this book has become unbearably selfish, and almost unrecognizable from the heroine of the previous books. And there was almost no Anna Madrigal. OK. I’ve spent enough of my life on this book.

[Bailey · Rating 4 out of 5]

literally what on earth lmaoooo poor sweet Brian damn

[Hannah Seeley · Rating 4 out of 5]

Some unexpected moments of grief and loss found their way into this book. Somewhere on my book it said this was the first book to address the AIDS crisis- I don’t know if that’s true, but it certainly captured the confusion and fear of that time well. We see Mary Ann, Michael, and co. grow up, with many moments of hilarity and whimsy like in earlier books, but tempered a bit more by heavier thoughts and events.

[Ross · Rating 5 out of 5]

i just love these books so much - mouse and mary ann 🩵

[Dan · Rating 4 out of 5]

This series keeps powering on. This one, I would say, is the most complete. By that I mean, it reads like a full concept in a way that the other ones didn't. The previous three books read more like a series of events in these really interesting people's lives. There were arcs, but they seemed incidental to just hanging with these people. Babycakes definitely feels more fully conceptualized. It starts with Queen Elizabeth landing at SFO on a raining day three months before Easter, and ends with the Queen again just after Easter. Throughout, we jump back and forth between SF and the UK. The season in both places is rainier than usual. Operating in the background is the death of Michael's lover from AIDS (this is one of the very early mentions of the plague in fiction) and Mary Ann's struggle to conceive a child.

Overall, Babycakes is the most somber of the books (so far), but since this is Maupin, that's still a far cry from a tearjerker. I really enjoyed this one, and I get the sense that he was wrapping up a lot of things from the first half of the series. I anticipate the next set of novels to take our friends from 28 Barbary Lane in a new direction. I'm pretty excited for the journey.

If you liked this, make sure to follow me on Goodreads for more reviews!

[Mike Clarke · Rating 4 out of 5]

In the time of the plague: this fourth volume is where I hopped aboard back in 1988, with AIDS, Clause 28 and Thatcher/Reagan looming large. We needed some affirmative, comforting fiction then just as we do now: funny how some of the same tropes about HIV have emerged with COVID, including a touching scene with a waiter who confides in Mouse that he’s stopped going to the baths and sticks to the sweater bars now, which causes Michael to reflect that “the virus was no respecter of cashmere.” Plus ç’est la même chose indeed. Salutary rereading.

[jess]

This doesn’t age especially well, and I know it’s soapy, but I can’t stop reading it.

I did love Mona’s hilarious speech. “I am a simple English country dyke, and don’t you forget it.” “I will never be a lipstick lesbian. I hate this shit on my face.”

[Ayla · Rating 4 out of 5]

Great ending!

[Christina · Rating 5 out of 5]

Love the characters and the stories of their lives.

[Sheikha · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of my favorite in the series so far!

[Clemens · Rating 4 out of 5]

Im vierten Band seiner Stadtgeschichten führt Maupin die Leser ins San Francisco des Jahres 1984. Es ist die Zeit in der AIDS das alles bestimmende Thema dort ist. Daran kommt auch das Buch nicht vorbei. Denn auch die Protagonisten der Barbary Lane 28 haben ein Opfer dieser Krankheit zu beklagen. Das ist der Ausgangspunktes des Buchs. Damit durchzieht die gesamte Erzählung eine Melancholie und Trauer, die man so aus den vorangegangen Bänden nicht kannte. Trotz dieser Grundstimmung bietet aber auch dieser Band die gewohnte und lieb gewonnene Mischung aus Familiengeschichte mit lustigen und abstrusen Wendungen.
Maupin greift dabei auch wieder weit über San Francisco hinaus und schickt Michael Mouse zur Trauerbewältigung nach Großbritannien. Und er lässt Mona, die im dritten Band keine Rolle spielte zurückkehren.
Das ist eine der Stärken des Maupinschen Schreibens, die ganze Reihe gibt einem das Gefühl, Teil einer großen Familie zu sein, wo man sich gelegentlich versammelt, aber nicht immer alle dabei sein können. Daher freut man sich um so mehr, wenn sie dann beim nächsten Zusammentreffen wieder auftauchen.
Was bei „Tollivers Reisen“ besonders Spaß macht, sind die erzählerischen Kniffe, die sich Maupin leistet. So verknüpft er die beiden Erzählstränge San Francisco und England so geschickt, dass man als Leser schnell Parallelen erkennt und glaubt, zu wissen, wie die Erzählung sich weiterentwickeln wird. Doch Maupin wäre nicht Maupin, wenn er den Leser zum Ende hin mit den weiteren Entwicklungen nicht doch überrumpeln würde.
So liest man das letzte Viertel des Buches mit immer größer werdenden Erstaunen und am Ende zieht man wieder den Hut vor Maupins Erzählkunst.

[That One Ryan · Rating 4 out of 5]

There is a significant tonal shift from the original three Tales of the Cities to Babycakes, the fourth. It was almost jarring at first, but to me, I really enjoyed the shift. It felt almost like, the stories had matured with the characters.

This is the first installment in the series where Maupin includes AIDS, which at the time, was not met with a lot of applause. In his forward he mentions that many fans of the series were upset that he had chosen to include it. For me though, I thought it grounded the series, and brought a sense of depth that the originals were lacking. Obviously reading it now in 2023, it’s easier for me to be objective about it’s inclusion, however.

I also felt that taking the narrative back down to a smaller group of POV’s, was a good choice. My biggest complaint with the last book was the new Character point of views that felt distracting and somewhat uninteresting to me. Here, we are back to our original cast of characters with the other minor ones having only brief cameos. I loved this, as Mary Ann, Mouse, Brian and of course Anna Madrigal are the heart of Tales of the City. It was a treat to be able to focus mostly on them.

While this book was much heavier then the previous three, Maupin was still able to sprinkle in a dose of soap opera and wild shenanigans that are the staple of the series. I felt he was able to balance the two contrasting energies in a very successful way.

I am very glad I decided to continue on in the series, as this installment felt fresh while also feeling classic. You can’t help but care about the crazy lives of the tenants of Barbary Lane.

[Senne Adam · Rating 3 out of 5]

While it still heavily relies on telenovellaesque twists and turns caused by highly unlikely coincidences, 'Babycakes' is the quietest instalment in the 'Tales of the City' series so far. Rather than cheap cartoonish antagonists, interpersonal dynamics drive much of the plot and conflict.

Although it's nice to focus more on the beloved core characters of 28 Barbary Lane, the book may have benefited from more complexity and depth in the characters and their relationships with each other. For example, the central conflict between Simon, Mary Ann and Brian was resolved too easily by not one but two overly conventient external events in a row. I would've preferred to see the characters overcome their problems themselves.

Nevertheless, 'Babycakes' is still a solid instalment in a highly enjoyable series that serves as a literary time capsule of the 1970s and onwards. Famously known as the first work of fiction to tackle the AIDS crisis, the novel also marks a darker turn in the series, highlighting Maupin's commitment to unapologetic authenticity when it matters. However, some narrative choices make it slightly less enjoyable than its predecessors.

3.5/5

[Ruby Grad · Rating 4 out of 5]

For me, this series is consistently fun. It also brings back memories of living in the San Francisco Bay Area during the time these were written as serialized columns in the newspaper. There are some things that might seem dated to other readers, and the characters may start to get old, but I continue to enjoy them. On to #5, Significant Others.

[Lucia · Rating 3 out of 5]

Love Maupin and was surprised that I did not find this as nuanced as the previous three, especially considering it was one of the first (the first overall?) works of fiction to address AIDS. The mix of entertainment and grief was striking, and I imagine was even more so when it was published in the Chronicle…I will indeed keep reading, but I fear this one gets 3.5 stars.