Combo review of vol. 1-3
More than a story of romance in the face of tragedy, these books are a portrait of a society and a time. Its scope and the number of characters, each drawn vivid from the smallest of details, each just as alive as the main cast, allow the story to take on epic proportions. The constant jumps back and forth in time, while occasionally disorienting or frustrating, are incredibly effective in conveying a sense of inevitability. “This story happened. It happened here, in this city, among the people who live their lives here. In a city where most people kept on living their lives as if nothing happened, young men started getting sick, faded away and died.” The writer, a comedian, is one of the ones who survived, and through all the laugh-out-loud funny moments, there is woven a sorrow so deep it could only ever come from one who lived it.
One of the most fascinating aspects of how this story is told, is the juxtaposition of the hyperreal historical chronicling of facts and dates, with fable-like elements of tremendous symbolic power. On the one hand we have exact quotations from the articles published about the “fag-plague,” and clinical descriptions of the treatment of AIDS patients in conditions akin to biblical leper-colonies. On the other, we have motifs like the white elk – “who would like to kill such a beautiful creature?” “lots of people who don’t think it belongs here.” – or the ritualistic dance of male/male courtship in spaces that at night seem so dreamlike that they might as well be Narnia. The image that comes to mind is of a window between worlds: on one side the “normal” world, cold and indifferent and aggressive in its realism; on the other side, the inside, warm, whimsical and unrestrained in its portrayal of lives lived, memories made, not giving a damn for outside-imposed rationality.
This is of course the best possible way to describe these characters. They’re all so brilliantly alive, so colorful and unique. The stream-of-consciousness whirlwind of memories, words held back and involuntary thoughts, reach the level of psychological depth found in some of my favorite books of all time. And while the struggle with being oneself as told through the eyes of Benjamin (a Jehovah’s Witness) and Rasmus (a country bumpkin from Fuckall Nowhere) is gripping and strikes a nerve with me personally, some of the most interesting and powerful moments come from the perspective of their parents, the ones who represent the outside, but are forced to look inside. They say and do so many wrong things, arguably doing more damage than good, and yet it’s all out of love. Misguided, toxic love, but love all the same. It would be so easy, maybe even justified, to treat them as monsters, but this book is just so bristling with compassion that not even they go without.
Something about stories surrounding the AIDS-crisis hit me so hard. I suppose in part because I feel very strongly that I, and everyone like me in my generation, owe so much to the men who came before us, the ones who were shunned, beaten, hated and killed, so that we can live our lives. Also because I know, that had fate willed things otherwise, I could so easily have been one of them. The book itself summarizes its main cast, and thus all the men all around the world who lived through this story, better than I ever could: ”They were the ones who lived the most, the ones who loved the most, the ones who winter took.” It can be easy to just focus on that last bit; the world has done such a good job of making their lives and their stories all about suffering and death. But I think what this book does best is showcase the first parts. They were so much more than the numbers published in newspapers to horrify. They lived and they loved, on their own terms, and they did so beautifully.