Note: This is the first book I've finished in 2023 celebrating LGBTQ pride month, wow, what a book it is!
An exquisite, haunting bildungsroman of a novel, “Juno Loves Legs” certainly lives up to the praises of Gabriel Byrne and Douglas Stuart, who wrote the immortal books, Shuggie Bain and Young Mungo.
Reminiscent of Young Mungo in its tone and sorrowful, bleak mood- Juno Loves Legs is a timeless tale of two misfits. Set in Dublin during the 1980s, with eerie, dark landscapes of tawdry bars, alcoholics on the street, with poverty rampant everywhere, Juno is one of the pluckiest and most resilient narrators I’ve read in a while. She lives with her seamstress mother, Mam; her alcoholic father, and estranged from her older sister Derry.
She is often at odds at Catholic school with cruel Sister for a teacher, and the sadistic Father who often take their repression and religious fervor by violently abusing and projecting their feelings on Juno (she’s impoverished) and of course, Juno’s classmate, the beautiful Sean, (aka Legs).
It’s meant to be that Juno and Sean become best friends. But because as Sean comes of age as Legs, his effeminate, delicate beauty causes ire amongst those who are homophobic and repressed: especially Sister and Father who mock and hate him for no other reason than out of their own fear and ignorance, “His narrow shoulders shook then, though there was no sound, as if it had been turned down, the way you could with the news if you didn’t like what was being said” (Geary 249).
The fairy tale quality of Geary’s novel is rounded out by Mrs. H, the kindly librarian who seems to be the only one decent to Juno as she grows up.
After losing her mother to a bus accident, Juno finds herself witnessing Legs committing a crime against Father that would change their friendship forever. After he is committed to a reform school, Juno moves out and becomes a street walker, sex worker, wandering aimlessly in a Dublin that seems to be out of a Dickens and Joyce novel, its image at odds with anything green or beautiful that Ireland seems to offer.
As Juno reunites with Legs at the final act of the novel, we see Legs, like Juno, has gotten himself into sex work as well. He's basically owned by the smarmy St. Francis who has given him false promises of headlining his own art show.
Juno finally comes into grips with Legs being gay, and though the physical love is completely one sided, their love is so pure and emotional that it tore into my psyche.
I love books about two people who love each other, who are against the world, that I often relate to stories like this, wishing I had a Juno in my life. As Legs alludes to that his impending death from AIDS is near, through insight, wisdom and unflinching self awareness, Juno quietly declares their understanding with devastating pragmatism, with an acceptance that touched me, “like the silence of reading, or reading about people who love and must part, I thought it perfect” (Geary 273).
Legs like Mungo from “Young Mungo” are beautiful, sensitive men who are victims of their circumstance, characters out of a Joyce, Hardy and DH Lawrence novel who yearn for bigger things, but somehow fate and the environment have a way of thwarting those desires.
Legs is however, more forgiving and is filled with a wisdom that is truly heartbreaking especially when he looks back at his childhood, and acknowledges those who had inflicted abuse on him are still human. I was astounded at the writing of this empathic character, of how he was created out of pure love, "even horrible people can have their hearts broken" (Geary 241).
As I often do with deeply affecting books about love- I cried, and wept for what could have been for Juno’s love for Legs. It’s haunting, and somehow deeply realistic of two people that lived for their moment.