This is~ the story of a girl~ who cried a river and drowned the whole world... even though it's a different annoying 1990s pop hit that anchors this one.
Angels is a book that contains all kinds of things. Maybe foremost it is about, like, repression and "DL" among gay dudes and our boy Steven being a wreck about it, pushing his feelings down and reducing sex to a purely physical exchange and his difficulty when it comes to August, his long-haired true-love reciprocal doomed yaoi partner. A lot of it is things I'm casually aware of but have no bearing on my existence. There are a bunch of times that the narration leans on preconceived ideas about sex: "He was scared of what everyone was afraid of right before sex with someone they liked; he expected that this was of no consequence to them, but it was his whole life on the line." Part of me wants to chalk the lack of understanding (are you meant to feel this way about sex?) up to personal trauma or being acespec, but mostly I think I was previously unaware on this level because of gosh darned autism. I am like: can't relate. No idea what it's like. So on that level I was riding along with Steven as he coolly exchanges sexual favours for rides out to August's house and experiencing all-new things, which was a hoot, I will say. Steven is a car crash of a person, all internal and in his head 24/7 and also a fan of Burzum, not because he's a Norweigan nazi or anything, but mostly because he is like 17 and sucks and thinks it's hardcore. Distinctive boy.
However, the actual framing is outside of all of that burning hot unspoken gay yearning. Secretly, the novel is about a third person: Charlotte, who everybody calles Charles for whatever reason, is a girl with weird fixations and some kind of a death wish. Her whole thing seems to be that she needs to have had sex to like, ritually enter adulthood, which was also new but less surprising to me. Issues of self-worth, validation in the eyes of others. Ayup. Non-shockingly, when she gets fixated on Steven, he vey casually has sex with her because he's that kind of "whatever" guy, but then literally tells her to fuck off and leave when he's done. Aftercare isn't his specialty, and for that crime bad things happen to Charlotte, and the literal biblical apocalypse begins. Things get out of hand.
The New May Leitz here tends to lose me pretty hard and fast when it gets all christian about things. I think calling god a famous cuckold is pretty funny, but most times I find that I wasn't raised in fuckin' Texas Butte so much of it is lost on me, again. When Charlotte is gettin' homophobic with it about Steven and Austin, my only reaction is 'dude, what the fuck'? But I think that's the intention and there's a joke I'm missing, since Charlotte does narrate about it. Straight woman fury... Fucking at the literal end of the world in the midst of the Genesis flood sounds kinda rad, but I guess in the same way, the contrast is the point. Do you think August is just 24/7 ready to bottom? Sure seemed easy reading it back. Perhaps he is a nascent Bottom Shaman.
The fact that all of this might be preordained by a higher power is pretty wild, especially for taking place in a small town in bumfuck Texas. I guess hell truly hath no fury like a woman scorned. Or, maybe Charlotte, Charles, is of other gender. There's a lot going on there for all of it to have been preordained. The climactic scene reminds me faintly of a dream I once had, down to the knife snugly between ribs. Not really the fun kind of stabbing this time.
The book also has Notes, sweet fucking god does it have footnotes, not as ubiquitous and unhinged as Psycho Nymph Exile's, and a key distinction is that Psycho Nymph plants them at the bottom of each page. Angels puts them all at the very end, so I did not read them until after. I wish for them to be footers on every page, they might have helped that way.
In general a lot of Angels is outside of my direct purview, making it sort of a truckstop (kinda like Butte itself) on the big road of my Personal Quest, and as a result kind of weird to me, personally. I think I should also just read every and any May Leitz novel that will exist, though, because for as much of an out-of-body experience as it was, even though it's fucking bizzare and unpleasant, I still enjoyed it. How could I not? It is weird and gross (albeit only slightly) and made me reflect and consider in gross (this time intensely) ways on things. Angels is a heavyweight.