I can't believe this was written in 1946! Though I like the Valancourt cover, it doesn't quite capture the mood of the novel - almost makes you think you're in for a light, quirky comedy or something, which ... isn't the case at all.
Most of the book deals with the inner-workings of a failing marriage, from both points of view (husband/wife), and the realization the husband is attracted to his own kind. I'd say the novel was a slow burn, and the ending was so sad but couldn't have ended any other way (especially because of when it was written). I never understood people who complain about the fact that older books are "dated" - this is precisely why I enjoy books written 40+ years ago, to get a glimpse into what life used to be like - I really find it fascinating! And to be honest, I don't think "The Fall of Valor", aside from the slang/language, is really that dated at all - this situation could still happen, I mean, it does still happen, though some of the stakes are not as high.
I also really enjoyed how the author gave depth to the woman in this situation (Ethel), which I feel isn't the case in fiction (and movies) that deal with the same topic. So often the woman in this type of scenario is a minor, one dimensional character, but here the author described her thought processes and feelings so empathetically and he really gave her room to come alive and breathe...and seethe.
Will definitely be reading more by Charles Jackson!
Set and written during World War II, Charles Jackson’s “The Fall of Valor” is a masterful work that depicts marital crisis and simmering sexuality at a time when most of us might assume Americans would rather recoil from such frankness. But as Jackson highlights, the second war, in some ways, brought sexuality to the American forefront for perhaps the first time. John and Ethel Grandin, together ten years, hope a trip to the seashore might rekindle their troubled marriage. But after meeting young honeymooners on the boat to Martha’s Vineyard, John becomes obsessed with the groom, the handsome and burly Marine captain Cliff Hauman.
The middle aged John, though handsome in his own right, seeks to absorb the Marine’s glow, as does everyone else at the seaside resort—everyone but the feminine, demure Ethel, who finds Cliff’s overt masculinity vulgar and even threatening. With the countless photographs and news reels of strong and often semi-nude soldiers displayed across America, sexuality of the American male became an emblem celebrated by many rather than shied from. For the first time since perhaps ancient Greece, the beauty of males rose loftier than that of females. No one becomes more aware of this than John, as he battles his mounting desires for Cliff, whose sexual ambiguity is a symbol for the modern day cowboy. And so in a span of a weekend, “daddy’s boy” Cliff goes from calling John “sir” to “Johnnie.” As their flirtations grow, so does wife Ethel’s frustrations.
Jackson gives a unique glimpse inside the minds of people living on the home front. To John and Ethel, a middle class couple with two school-age boys, the war rages only in the news, no more real than the war in the Middle East is to most of us today. John experiences painful embarrassment at seeing the youthful soldiers marched off toward foreign lands to what for some would be their deaths. All the while he continues life as a college English professor, concerned about his post and the sexual confusion that the war and its horrible wasting of youth seem to have ignited. As John reflects, his swelling homosexual desires might as well be “a sign of the times.”
Jackson and the original publisher Farrar and Straus gave no pretense to the novel’s homosexual theme. Sold as pop fiction at the time of its release in 1946, the moderate best-seller was displayed prominently in drug stores with cover art depicting two men ogling each other before a cringing, neglected wife. The prose is stellar, and, if not a bit repetitious, Jackson crafted his intelligent novel with a sharp focus on “war guilt” and masculine, often violent, sexuality. I may not have liked all the characters’ personalities, yet I certainly felt an intimate connection with them. At times I felt as if I were a marriage counselor, as the inner thoughts between John and Ethel switches back and forth, revealing deep morose and pain. The climax culminates with a mingling of points of view of the principal players—yet they are destined for a brutal parting.
Jackson's novel is perhaps more approachable and relevant for today’s readers than for those seventy years ago. Out of print, the novel (including the 1964 reprint that I read) can be readily found on eBay and Amazon.com. I highly recommend reading it.
I actually liked this second of his novels far better than Jackson's acclaimed debut, The Lost Weekend, not only because the storyline was far more interesting (to me, at least), but it didn't contain the longueurs and overt philosophizing that dampened his earlier work. I did feel a good 50 pages could and SHOULD have been jettisoned; as it is, protagonist John Grandin doesn't even comprehend why it is he has no interest in fulfilling his marital duties towards his frustrated wife, nor why he seems to have an inordinate attraction to a young Marine, until literally three-quarters of the way through. At least the inevitable, somewhat unhappy ending does NOT end in either death or suicide , as was de rigueur back in the mid-40's for queer characters, so that's a blessing. In an odd way, this reminded me of the film 'Far From Heaven', and (perhaps damning with faint praise), would make an interesting and intriguing movie.
This was upsetting. I know some of you think it's dated, but it's not to me.
Catholic World review (I think), 1946: “The topic is one which might be discussed to the profit of a good many readers, were the treatment scientific and decent, but this book is neither. It is not scientific because it confuses the normal and the abnormal in a way that can easily do irreparable damage to sensitive minds by provoking unreasonable fears, stimulating unanswerable questions, and leaving personalities defenseless against notoriously destructive impulses...He uses language which not even the most hardened reviewer would dare to quote in the pages of a respectable magazine—the kind that civilized people, even in our present outspoken era, never employ. Perhaps the book will be a best-seller. The writer certainly has a gift for clever dialogue. He can sustain interest in an everyday conversation or a landscape. All the more reason why he should be censured for having done something which must be classed as unprofitable to everyone concerned, except himself and his publisher.”
First published in 1946, this is a very brave and insightful novel. A long neglected classic, deservingly republished by Valancourt Books. I found the exploration of the prevailing attitudes of the characters, both male and female, very interesting. Naivety, generalizations of normal behaviour and rigid societal conventions reigned supreme. John’s continual doubts about the normalcy of his feelings and the legitimacy of his marriage was particularly perceptive.
As was probably very common at the time, men who experienced same-sex attraction agonizingly convinced themselves that it was a moral weakness and a wicked temptation that must be overcome. This could simply be achieved with the love of a good woman. The heteronormative path was the only way forward, leading to socially acceptable lives. Below the surface, however, lives consisted of typically loveless marriages, shame and desperate unhappiness.
Modern readers may find the novel frustrating and overly melodramatic, but it’s an incredibly telling piece of social history.
Jackson 1946 novel about love and sexuality reflects the era in which it was set and written in a way that as insightful as it is painful. The contrasting and conflicting perceptions about their relationship as told by a husband and wife reveal so much about these distinct characters and truths about intimate relationships universally.
The writing is very tightly wrought and perfectly descriptive of the scenes and emotions of the story.
I found this novel to be a daring and beautifully written description of what it was like to discover that one is gay at a time when it was very much not OK, in this case in the midst of World War II. The story is a heartbreaking oneAnd the characters painfully true to themselves and to the time. The ending is profoundly sad but again rings true in my estimation. It is too bad this is out of print.
A sad story about a marriage breaking apart, and also about being a closeted middle aged, middle class man during the 1940s. For the most part, this book is psychologically convincing and realistic. Jackson conveys the intense pain and isolation of his main characters, and their tragic inability to really communicate their feelings to each other. In some ways this is also a novel about civilian life during World War II, although you could probably update it to be set during the Korean or Vietnam wars, just by changing a few details. Although Ethel and John are both deeply affected by the war, and the endless deaths of young men in the Pacific, it's sort of just a bleak backdrop to the more intense bleakness of their personal lives. Cliff is more enigmatic. He rings true as a type of soldier eager to get back out into the war - despite the enormous risks - driven by a whole bunch of complicated psychological motives that he doesn't think to examine. Jackson is a gifted writer, and the story held my interest, but all the characters are so frustratingly self-absorbed and repressed (I guess that's the point, but still). I think I preferred The City and the Pillar and Giovanni's Room, to which The Fall of Valor is compared. I'm glad I read it, though.
This book is interesting as a dated period piece about a college professors attraction to a handsome marine captain during World War II. It captures the period well and adds commentary to civilians versus the miliatry during wartime. It is a slow read until the last third of the book which races towards the inevitable conclusion. Well worth the read for people interested in pre-Stonewall LGTB CULTURE
An incredible literary classic - a first of its kind novel dealing with the "taboo" subject of homosexuality; about a deeply closeted married man on vacation in hopes of rekindling his marriage, instead finds himself falling in love with wounded marine on his honeymoon. A psychological character study of the time published in 1946. Highly recommended.
In Cat Sebastian’s “We Could Be So Good,” Nick talks about his reluctance to read any queer books because of the depressing self-hating nature of them. This book made me understand what that meant.
I expected, of course, that this book wouldn’t end well, since that���s how anything with overtly queer characters made it in the publishing world of 1946. It was still hard to read. Contrary to what I expected from the little description I found of this book, it wasn’t specifically queer until the last part of the book: the End.
Something else I didn’t expect was how unlikeable John Grandin would be, but he really was. He’s selfish and self absorbed, casually cruel, and doesn’t care about his wife at all. Again, I wonder if this plays into stereotypes of the time about “hidden queers” posing as straight men. Whatever the reason, it made it really quite hard to sympathize with John at any single point in his journey of self discovery and self hatred. Ethel was established early on as a generally sympathetic character who wanted nothing more than to be loved. John was her counterpoint and disregarded her at every opportunity.
Like a lot of others said, the ending was quite sad - maybe the saddest part being that John felt the bashing was deserved, and even wishes it had actually ended in his death. Horrible. It was also somewhat sad to think of Cliff’s side of things in this situation. The implication seems pretty heavy that he is, in fact, queer himself; but so self-hating that he at once tempts and rejects John in the most aggressive possible way. It’s horrible to think of hating the core of yourself like that in any way.
Altogether this was definitely an interesting look at the changing sexual mores during WW2 and in the postwar period. While I felt it started slow and took a while to gain my attention. The second half of the book, as John really starts on his journey of self discovery, picked up immensely.
"Selbst wenn er zu denen gehörte, die körperliche Liebe mit einem Mann suchten oder brauchten, dann wäre auch das in Ordnung gewesen, vorausgesetzt, die Liebe war echt und unausweichlich; denn was ist, ist, und Wahrheit ist Wahrheit, egal, welche Form sie annimmt."
Ein Mann mittleren Alters, Johnny, Professor, zutiefst erschöpft, reist auf eine entlegene Badeinsel; dort wird er vom Anblick eines schönen Jünglings namens Cliff verzaubert, und unter dem Ansturm sinnlicher Reize gerät der Primat des Geistes, dem er stets gefolgt ist, ins Wanken. Jackson sieht in der Gegenüberstellung von sinnlichen und geistigen Effekten ein moralisches Problem. Der Autor zeichnet ein äußerst präzise Sittengemälde der 40er Jahre, eine Zeit, die befremdlich wirkt, weil die moralische Entrüstung über eine Sexualität, die heute längst fester Bestandteil des menschlichen Verhaltensrepertoires ist, nicht mehr verstanden wird. Jackson beschreibt eine leidenschaftliche Heldenverehrung, die als unheilvolle Schwärmerei Skandal und öffentliche Schande nach sich zieht. Keine andere Figur im Roman hat verstanden oder nur zu verstehen versucht, worum es bei der Liebe von Johnny zu Cliff tatsächlich ging. Jackson arbeitet mit psychologischer Finesse und angesichts dessen wird jede trockene Gelehrsamkeit über die Liebe vor der Romankomposition kapitulieren müssen. Absolut empfehlenswert!
I had never read Charles Jackson and only decided to read this book as an early example of LGBT literature. My first impression was one of quaint nostalgia for such an old-fashioned style of a novel. Jackson gives us a marriage that in the course of regular marital discord has to come to terms with the husband’s budding bisexuality. Despite this seemingly simple premise, Jackson is able to develop both characters so beautifully that the reader cannot help but empathize with both of them and their view of the new development. Likewise, Jackson’s treatment of the husband’s gradual realization of his feelings towards another man gives us a beautiful insight into the confusing and conflict-ridden moment in which he comes to terms with his own sexuality. While Jackson’s fall into the clichéd violent ending of all LGBT novels of the era is a little disappointing, the overall novel is still a beautifully executed exploration of a marriage in flux.
It's splendid literary-wise. I mean man, the dude can write. But oof, did the story drraaagggg. Could have condensed it into a novella and made it more potent, less plodding.
It's supposed to be about passion and the taboo, but the writing is too cerebral and measured to elicit the same from the reader. A pervasive atmosphere of frustration and anxiety soured the whole thing too, dampened whatever meager sensuality the story offered.
Moral of the tale is: if a man wants to occasionally dip his fingers in dem sweet cookie jars, he better keep his main squeeze 100% happy and satisfied. Also: make sure your cocktease really wanna put out before you paw the merchandise or you're gonna get clobbered, with either a lawsuit or fire tongs.
Opnieuw uitgegeven door Valancourt en ik kon het online downloaden in Gutenberg, dus waarom niet? Het deed me denken aan Mrs Dalloway, maar niet op een goeie manier. Als het niet door de magische persoonlijkheid van Woolf wordt gefilterd, dan kan monologue intérieur al snel gezaag worden. Ik zou het geduld opgebracht hebben om elk woord te lezen, mochten de personages niet in cirkels denken, zodat we eindeloze variaties op hetzelfde thema lezen. Als er al een les uit te trekken valt, dan is het om gewelddadige niet uit de kast zijnde militairen beter niet ongewenst aan te raken. Ga ik The Lost Weekend nog lezen? Misschien.
A cut above the pulp connotations implied by the 1949 Signet Paperback cover (though this cover is the most campy fun of all of the editions) and ignoring the current awful Valancourt 2016 reprint cover, which conjures images of one of those shlocky contemporary Elin Hilderbrand rom-com beach reads, Jackson's book perfectly captures the anxieties and repression inherent in the post WWII generation regarding sexuality and "deviance". All this, even though John "Johnnie" Grandin meets a tragic end typical of books traversing similar territory of the time.
The Fall of Valor is the tale of a marriage in crisis, and how it plays out. Set in the summer of 1943, and published in 1946, this book is surprisingly honest and must have been very controversial. It is quite well-written, though the musings of the two main characters can be a bit long and make the novel drag a bit. It was interesting to read how subjects like the hero worship of military personnel, the lack of young men for jobs and its result on the workforce, and same-sex attraction were described in 1943.
A beautiful book. The story of a fading marriage, told very sensitively from both sides. Nothing is glamourised. Wonderfully written, I was surprised how hooked I was by a book where nothing much happens in it!
Excellent psychological realism! Highly recommend to those interested in the history of queer fiction. I found parts of it frustrating yet could not put it down.
A somber tale of closeted gay male yearning, originally published in 1946. It's slowly paced and meditative so it won't be for everyone, but I really liked it—plus I'm still surprised that a book with homosexual themes could be published by a major press back in the mid-1940s. Hats off once again to Valancourt for bringing back titles like this for new generations of readers and scholars.
In terms of writing, not bad. This is, however, that makes me mad. Not because it sends a sad message about being gay-it does. No, it's important to understand how people have felt about us not all that long ago. The anger comes from the reality that closeted people read these book books and "learned" that something is wrong about who they are.
If this book didn’t have the obligatory mid-century gay fiction’s conclusion, I’d give it a higher rating. Mind you, the conclusion reads as entirely believable, but I didn’t like it any more because of that. Unlike some other reviewers, I found the characters extremely well-conceived and credible - not just the Grandins, but also (and especially) Cliff. The atmosphere on Nantucket is conjured up very effectively: I felt transported. And the ending could have been even worse, I suppose: where it could have been utter tragedy, we only find hopelessness. Recommended.
Enjoyed this book … made better by the fact that this 1946 novel was one of the first to openly include a theme of homosexuality. We have come a long way. The preface of the book captures this novels significance in American literature. Though written almost 75 years ago there are parts of this novel that still reverberate today.
"It isn't what happens to us that matters. Anything can happen to anybody. What Matters is what we let it do to us."