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Breathing Lessons
Nominee:
2016 Lambda Literary Award, Gay Fiction
A visceral new voice in gay fiction gives a novel on the life lessons learned by a homosexual man as he ages and matures
A bold and explicit debut novel by one of the most visceral new voices in gay fiction, Breathing Lessons is the story of Henry Moss, a homosexual everyman whose life knows none of the limitations or abuses his predecessors experienced. When a teenaged Henry came out to his mother, she worried only that he’d be lonely. At the time, he thought her concerns were old-fashioned. Two decades later, he’s had supportive family and friends, he’s well-liked by the athletes who train with him, trusted in his professional life, parties whenever he pleases, and performs all manner of sexual acts with whomever he wants. But as he gets older and, increasingly, the men he sleeps with are married, Henry finds that his mother may have been right. Can he find the lasting intimacy he craves in his life amidst the equal-opportunity freedom afforded by his generation’s openness? Learning to navigate between the two is as delicate as learning to breathe again.
2016 Lambda Literary Award, Gay Fiction
A visceral new voice in gay fiction gives a novel on the life lessons learned by a homosexual man as he ages and matures
A bold and explicit debut novel by one of the most visceral new voices in gay fiction, Breathing Lessons is the story of Henry Moss, a homosexual everyman whose life knows none of the limitations or abuses his predecessors experienced. When a teenaged Henry came out to his mother, she worried only that he’d be lonely. At the time, he thought her concerns were old-fashioned. Two decades later, he’s had supportive family and friends, he’s well-liked by the athletes who train with him, trusted in his professional life, parties whenever he pleases, and performs all manner of sexual acts with whomever he wants. But as he gets older and, increasingly, the men he sleeps with are married, Henry finds that his mother may have been right. Can he find the lasting intimacy he craves in his life amidst the equal-opportunity freedom afforded by his generation’s openness? Learning to navigate between the two is as delicate as learning to breathe again.
180 pages, Paperback
First published September 1, 2015
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Displaying 1 - 18 of 18 reviews
June 1, 2016
I'm going through my 28th Lambda Award Nominees reading.
Breathing Lessons is a finalist in the category Gay Fiction.
And you know what?
I've just finished it, and I don't want to read other books in this category. I have already my winner.
THIS book could be a nominee in many categories - Best Debut or Gay Erotica or Gay Memoir.
That is exactly that makes this novel so special - a refreshing mix of many genres written in an unique way.
Breathing Lessons is the story of Henry Moss, a NORMAL gay guy, who, since he came out in his teenage years, enjoys his freedom, occasional erotic encounters, the futile lightness of being. All his relationships are either a one night stand or hopeless affairs with married or straight guys, nice connections, nothing more. Parties, joints, a snorted line, and hormones rule his life. He is still catching up, he is still gaining sexual experience, he is still inventing his sexuality, he is still...searching for...LOVE? But is it really what he WANTS? Is it HOW he imagined his life would be? HOW many ugly frogs one has to kiss to find his/her prince? HOW many painful mistakes does a person have to make to learn from?
Don't we all just want to be happy and have someone to take care of us and to be loved and to love back?
We don't have to learn it, it is inside us. Like breathing. But sometimes we need to learn to breath again.
This book is sarcastic, philosophical, honest, creative and simply good.
I always admire the creativity of an author in regard to the chapter names.
It could tell you more than thousands words in a long-length review.
Judge for yourself.
Contents:
LESSON ONE
How to Play the Victim
LESSON TWO
Live Life to the Fullest
LESSON THREE
Everything Floats at Different Levels
LESSON FOUR
We’re Just Like Everybody Else!
LESSON FIVE
People who Sense Sadness Stay Away
LESSON SIX
You Are Not Going to Love Everybody
LESSON SEVEN
She Doesn’t Want You to Have a Hard Life
LESSON EIGHT
Treat Yourself to the Very Occasional Cigarette
LESSON NINE
Choose a Dare Over a Truth
LESSON TEN
No Means Yes
LESSON ELEVEN
You Don’t Have to Believe in God, Just Hope
LESSON TWELVE
Open Your Heart, If You Have One
LESSON THIRTEEN
Any Shoulder Will Do
LESSON FOURTEEN
Some People Are Not Happy Unless
LESSON FIFTEEN
Everybody Gets Man Love Sometimes
LESSON SIXTEEN
Being With You Makes Me Feel So Bad
LESSON SEVENTEEN
Sorry Isn’t Good Enough
LESSON EIGHTEEN
Tell Them What You Need
LESSON NINETEEN
People Should Do What They Want
LESSON TWENTY
Anybody Who Shows Up Is Welcome
June 19, 2016
Here on Goodreads I note certain reviewers seem to consciously or unconsciously choose books which they will not like. It's like they do not know themselves enough to filter out certain choices automatically. Self knowledge and acknowledgement is great to have and the earlier we grasp it the better.
With Breathing Lessons, Sinclair too explores how to try to attain this knowledge. How Henry realises that he does not want the transient but the lasting connection. How the search for this connection made him loose sight of himself and how breath by breath he finds this knowledge and himself again.
Together with Henry we journeyed through a kaleidoscope of people and snippets of time. A smart, witty, intelligent journey. I want to travel with Sinclair again.
March 2, 2023
Amazing writing, on the one hand, but was confused by this book's marketing. The back cover plot summary of this "debut novel" does not match the contents. It is hard to see any connection between many of the chapters.
Sometimes characters appear just once and then disappear. If truly the first person protagonist was Henry Moss throughout then he is magnificently compartmentalized.
However, that said, the writing is powerful, and overcomes the defiant structure. Strong writing, deceptive package.
Sometimes characters appear just once and then disappear. If truly the first person protagonist was Henry Moss throughout then he is magnificently compartmentalized.
However, that said, the writing is powerful, and overcomes the defiant structure. Strong writing, deceptive package.
March 27, 2018
2.5, rounded down.
I understand the rationale behind marketing this as a novel, rather than what it actually IS - a collection of unrelated short stories (i.e., novels tend to sell better) - but such duplicity really irked me. Although there are some labored efforts to link the stories in a rudimentary fashion, there is no chronological continuity, no through-line and though each of the stories is narrated in the first person, there is also NO continuity of character. And as in any collection, there are a few gems, but in this case, most of the stories land more in the 'meh' category. They aren't awful, but most of them blur into a mediocre haze.
I understand the rationale behind marketing this as a novel, rather than what it actually IS - a collection of unrelated short stories (i.e., novels tend to sell better) - but such duplicity really irked me. Although there are some labored efforts to link the stories in a rudimentary fashion, there is no chronological continuity, no through-line and though each of the stories is narrated in the first person, there is also NO continuity of character. And as in any collection, there are a few gems, but in this case, most of the stories land more in the 'meh' category. They aren't awful, but most of them blur into a mediocre haze.
March 1, 2018
Breathing Lessons
By Andy Sinclair
Esplanade Books, 2015
Four stars
Andy Sinclair is an elegant writer. Terse, wry, clean. There is a strong visual quality to it, almost cinematic in the clarity of his imagery, but without excess or melodrama. The quality of his writing pulled me along through the many shortish chapters in this shortish book. That said, the structure of the book left me feeling confused and disoriented. There were moments when I wondered if this was in fact a series of parallel vignettes of different people’s lives. Not fully chronological, and with no apparent effort made to help the reader get a grip on the kaleidoscopic nature of Henry Moss’s life; I suspect that Andy Sinclair did this on purpose. The disorientation I felt at the end might well be meant to echo that which Henry Moss himself feels. If so, well done.
But what a feckless, aimless, pointless kind of life. What am I supposed to make of it?
The hard truth is that, when I read, I want to like the book (emotional) as well as enjoy it (intellectual). I enjoyed this, because of Sinclair’s skill, but I didn’t like it. I didn’t like Henry Moss or his fragmented, anomie-soaked life. I kept hoping I would, but I never managed to generate any real sympathy for or emotional connection to Moss. Maybe that was intentional, too. Maybe it’s just that I’m too old to have patience with purely literary pleasure.
“We are all adults, I am thinking. We can do what we want and we don’t need to justify anything to anybody.”
“I’ve always believed that you should kiss and sleep with whomever you want, whenever you want.”
Consider these two quotations I pulled from the book. For me, they embody the tone of the narrative mosaic, and seem to reflect the only real philosophical perspective that Henry Moss can lay claim to. The unfortunate result is that, for me, Henry Moss’s life reads like a promotion for gay conversion therapy. If that’s being gay, why would anyone want it? Is all that sex worth the emptiness?
I assume that if the author is not young enough to be my child, he must at least be nearly a generation younger than I am. AIDS is present in only the most marginal way, indicating that the author (and therefore Henry Moss) didn’t live through the 1980s the way my generation did. That is, surviving it. There isn’t any fear in Henry’s life; no legal consequences to being gay. The values inherent in those two citations above are, I’m afraid, the fault of my generation. The first seems to be the war cry of the millennials, a blow-by of the boomers rejecting their parents’ values in the 1960s. The second resonates with the lessons I was taught when I came out at 20 in 1975. My generation of gay folk fought and marched and lifted our voices to win our people the freedom to abandon all thought of emotional or physical consequences in our quest for sex. We all said it was about civil rights, but we knew what we really wanted. Didn’t we?
By the end of the book I felt that Henry Moss’s mess of a life was my fault. And perhaps it is, indirectly.
There is some indication in Henry’s story that straight people aren’t like gay people, in that they don’t share that all-in ability to seek sex for sex’s sake. If that’s true, then that freedom seems to be something of a booby prize, since it appears to come with a complete inability to maintain any sort of healthy long-term relationship.
As you can see, this book made me think. A lot. It made me look back over my own very different life as a gay man these past 42 years. It made me question the very roots of gay liberation, if Henry Moss is any measure of the result. It made me unhappy.
I know I’m wrong to generalize Henry Moss into a representative of all gay and bisexual men two generations after Stonewall. But it is difficult not to, since Henry Moss and his brethren are, historically, my children, and Andy Sinclair’s book makes me feel that I’ve somehow failed them.
As coach Sharpe says at the end: “I wouldn’t want to see a man waste his life being sad, Moss.”
Neither would I.
By Andy Sinclair
Esplanade Books, 2015
Four stars
Andy Sinclair is an elegant writer. Terse, wry, clean. There is a strong visual quality to it, almost cinematic in the clarity of his imagery, but without excess or melodrama. The quality of his writing pulled me along through the many shortish chapters in this shortish book. That said, the structure of the book left me feeling confused and disoriented. There were moments when I wondered if this was in fact a series of parallel vignettes of different people’s lives. Not fully chronological, and with no apparent effort made to help the reader get a grip on the kaleidoscopic nature of Henry Moss’s life; I suspect that Andy Sinclair did this on purpose. The disorientation I felt at the end might well be meant to echo that which Henry Moss himself feels. If so, well done.
But what a feckless, aimless, pointless kind of life. What am I supposed to make of it?
The hard truth is that, when I read, I want to like the book (emotional) as well as enjoy it (intellectual). I enjoyed this, because of Sinclair’s skill, but I didn’t like it. I didn’t like Henry Moss or his fragmented, anomie-soaked life. I kept hoping I would, but I never managed to generate any real sympathy for or emotional connection to Moss. Maybe that was intentional, too. Maybe it’s just that I’m too old to have patience with purely literary pleasure.
“We are all adults, I am thinking. We can do what we want and we don’t need to justify anything to anybody.”
“I’ve always believed that you should kiss and sleep with whomever you want, whenever you want.”
Consider these two quotations I pulled from the book. For me, they embody the tone of the narrative mosaic, and seem to reflect the only real philosophical perspective that Henry Moss can lay claim to. The unfortunate result is that, for me, Henry Moss’s life reads like a promotion for gay conversion therapy. If that’s being gay, why would anyone want it? Is all that sex worth the emptiness?
I assume that if the author is not young enough to be my child, he must at least be nearly a generation younger than I am. AIDS is present in only the most marginal way, indicating that the author (and therefore Henry Moss) didn’t live through the 1980s the way my generation did. That is, surviving it. There isn’t any fear in Henry’s life; no legal consequences to being gay. The values inherent in those two citations above are, I’m afraid, the fault of my generation. The first seems to be the war cry of the millennials, a blow-by of the boomers rejecting their parents’ values in the 1960s. The second resonates with the lessons I was taught when I came out at 20 in 1975. My generation of gay folk fought and marched and lifted our voices to win our people the freedom to abandon all thought of emotional or physical consequences in our quest for sex. We all said it was about civil rights, but we knew what we really wanted. Didn’t we?
By the end of the book I felt that Henry Moss’s mess of a life was my fault. And perhaps it is, indirectly.
There is some indication in Henry’s story that straight people aren’t like gay people, in that they don’t share that all-in ability to seek sex for sex’s sake. If that’s true, then that freedom seems to be something of a booby prize, since it appears to come with a complete inability to maintain any sort of healthy long-term relationship.
As you can see, this book made me think. A lot. It made me look back over my own very different life as a gay man these past 42 years. It made me question the very roots of gay liberation, if Henry Moss is any measure of the result. It made me unhappy.
I know I’m wrong to generalize Henry Moss into a representative of all gay and bisexual men two generations after Stonewall. But it is difficult not to, since Henry Moss and his brethren are, historically, my children, and Andy Sinclair’s book makes me feel that I’ve somehow failed them.
As coach Sharpe says at the end: “I wouldn’t want to see a man waste his life being sad, Moss.”
Neither would I.
June 12, 2019
Pride-kuukauden toinen teemaan liittyvä postaus on Andy Sinclairin romaanista Breathing Lessons. Löysin teoksen nettiartikkelista, kun olin googlaillut, minkälaista nykypäivän homoseksuaaleja käsittelevä kaunokirjallisuus on englanninkielisessä maailmassa. Päädyin tilaamaan kanadalaisen Sinclairin kirjan netistä yhdessä toisen jutussa mainitun romaanin kanssa. Jos haluaa lukea luontevia representaatioita ns. tavallisesta homomiehen elämästä ihmissuhdekomplekseineen, on englanninkielisten kirjojen netistä tilaaminen tällä hetkellä ainoa keino. No, itse kirjan sisältöön. Tiivis romaani koostuu 20 "harjoituksesta", joille otsikko tarjoaa tietyn näkökulman. Tämä on episodiromaani, jota voi hyvin lukea useamman päivän ajan vähitellen, kuten itse tein. Kerronnan aikamuotoratkaisu ei ole tavanomaisin: kertoja käyttää preesensiä silloinkin kun muistelee mennyttä. Tavallaan ratkaisu on tuore, toisaalta se sekoittaa lukiessa välillä aikatasot.
Kirjan alku oli kuin saapuminen johonkin vehreään, jollaista on odottanut jo pitkään. Herkkää kuvausta miesten välisestä fyysisestä kosketuksesta, mutkattoman realistista seksikuvausta, jossa ei peitellä tai kaunistella liikaa asioita, mutta ei myöskään revitellä överiksi. Minulle antaa outoa voimaa, että voi olla virkkeitä kuten: "I'd left the hockey game on and we lie there in the dark and listen to the play-by-play in the next room, our cum drying into a crust on my stomach." Että voi yhdistää tuollaisia asioita samassa virkkeessä. En edes pidä jääkiekosta, mutta olen fiiliksissä mahdollisuudesta. Päähenkilö, minäkertoja Henry on päälle kolmikymppinen ja käy läpi menneisyytensä hullaantumisia, lyhyeksi jääneitä seurusteluja ja valtavaa määrää fuckbuddyja, kaverisuhteita, joihin jossakin vaiheessa sekoittuu seksiä ja asioista tulee hankalia. Ei ehkä seksin itsensä takia, vaan tunteiden, jotka jossain vaiheessa kuitenkin seuraavat, ja toinen seurusteleekin toisen kanssa. Henryllä on huomattavan paljon säätöä juuri varattujen miesten kanssa.
Työelämä on kirjassa sivuseikka, välttämätön paha, päällimmäisenä ovat juhlat ja päihteet: pilveä kuluu paljon, ekstaasia ja kokaiinia jonkin verran. Hyvä, että tämä maailman suurten kaupunkien homopiireissä pitkään puhuttanut juhlimisen tapa tulee teoksessa esiin – Suomessakin aihe on toki noussut viimeisen vuoden aikana julkisuuteen tunnetun iskelmätähden huumeoikeudenkäynnin takia. Päihteitä ei voi kuitenkaan sanoa Henryn päällimmäiseksi ongelmaksi, vaan hän on usein masentunut ihmissuhdepettymysten takia. Menneisyys on myös jättänyt käsiteltäväksi trauman, mikä kirjassa oli ratkaisuna sellainen, etten oikein tiennyt miten suhtautua – ensireaktio oli turhautunut "ääh", vaikka miehiin kohdistuva seksuaalinen väkivalta on myös tärkeä aihe käsiteltäväksi. Vaikka pääosin pidin romaanin seksikuvauksista, ne olivat niin täynnä räiskyvää halun ja tyydytyksen ilotulitusta (ja näitä kohtauksia ja vaihtuvia miehiä oli niin paljon), ettei se tuntunut enää uskottavalta. Tosielämässä erilaista sähellystä ja mokia on enemmän, ja moniulotteiseen seksin kuvaamiseen pitäisi sisältyä myös niitä.
Breathing Lessons nappaa lukijan heti mukaansa iholle. Tyyli on ilmava, jättää paljon sanomatta. Kuin elämä. Näennäisestä keveydestä ja pintatason suoruudesta huolimatta teoksessa on painoa.
"We'd met through friends and buried the initial attraction and everybody knows what that does. Soon came the little friendly squeezes. Lingering hugs at the door. Sometimes it's just the matter of waiting until you are together alone, and stoned." (s. 17)
Kirjan alku oli kuin saapuminen johonkin vehreään, jollaista on odottanut jo pitkään. Herkkää kuvausta miesten välisestä fyysisestä kosketuksesta, mutkattoman realistista seksikuvausta, jossa ei peitellä tai kaunistella liikaa asioita, mutta ei myöskään revitellä överiksi. Minulle antaa outoa voimaa, että voi olla virkkeitä kuten: "I'd left the hockey game on and we lie there in the dark and listen to the play-by-play in the next room, our cum drying into a crust on my stomach." Että voi yhdistää tuollaisia asioita samassa virkkeessä. En edes pidä jääkiekosta, mutta olen fiiliksissä mahdollisuudesta. Päähenkilö, minäkertoja Henry on päälle kolmikymppinen ja käy läpi menneisyytensä hullaantumisia, lyhyeksi jääneitä seurusteluja ja valtavaa määrää fuckbuddyja, kaverisuhteita, joihin jossakin vaiheessa sekoittuu seksiä ja asioista tulee hankalia. Ei ehkä seksin itsensä takia, vaan tunteiden, jotka jossain vaiheessa kuitenkin seuraavat, ja toinen seurusteleekin toisen kanssa. Henryllä on huomattavan paljon säätöä juuri varattujen miesten kanssa.
Työelämä on kirjassa sivuseikka, välttämätön paha, päällimmäisenä ovat juhlat ja päihteet: pilveä kuluu paljon, ekstaasia ja kokaiinia jonkin verran. Hyvä, että tämä maailman suurten kaupunkien homopiireissä pitkään puhuttanut juhlimisen tapa tulee teoksessa esiin – Suomessakin aihe on toki noussut viimeisen vuoden aikana julkisuuteen tunnetun iskelmätähden huumeoikeudenkäynnin takia. Päihteitä ei voi kuitenkaan sanoa Henryn päällimmäiseksi ongelmaksi, vaan hän on usein masentunut ihmissuhdepettymysten takia. Menneisyys on myös jättänyt käsiteltäväksi trauman, mikä kirjassa oli ratkaisuna sellainen, etten oikein tiennyt miten suhtautua – ensireaktio oli turhautunut "ääh", vaikka miehiin kohdistuva seksuaalinen väkivalta on myös tärkeä aihe käsiteltäväksi. Vaikka pääosin pidin romaanin seksikuvauksista, ne olivat niin täynnä räiskyvää halun ja tyydytyksen ilotulitusta (ja näitä kohtauksia ja vaihtuvia miehiä oli niin paljon), ettei se tuntunut enää uskottavalta. Tosielämässä erilaista sähellystä ja mokia on enemmän, ja moniulotteiseen seksin kuvaamiseen pitäisi sisältyä myös niitä.
Breathing Lessons nappaa lukijan heti mukaansa iholle. Tyyli on ilmava, jättää paljon sanomatta. Kuin elämä. Näennäisestä keveydestä ja pintatason suoruudesta huolimatta teoksessa on painoa.
"We'd met through friends and buried the initial attraction and everybody knows what that does. Soon came the little friendly squeezes. Lingering hugs at the door. Sometimes it's just the matter of waiting until you are together alone, and stoned." (s. 17)
September 16, 2015
The language is frank and bold at times, but it reflects a reality many people exist in today. We get a clear sense of Henry’s thoughts and confusions and feel for him. We see the errors that he makes in judgement at times and realize that we ourselves have made similar errors in our own lives. The book is a brilliant read to reflect and ponder one’s own life upon no matter what preferences one has.
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October 4, 2015
Clear, smart, funny prose. A beautiful beginning for this wonderful writer.
January 2, 2018
I was really impressed by Andy Sinclair’s writing and delighted to read him—especially as I don’t read much lit from gay men. He's extraordinarily talented and I look forward to what he'll write in the future.
But there was a lot of repetition between stories here that began to wear on me. (Publishers, connected stories are not the way to go. The sameness dulls, and you under-appreciate what your readers want/will enjoy.) Despite the advertising, this book was not even close to a novel.
But there was a lot of repetition between stories here that began to wear on me. (Publishers, connected stories are not the way to go. The sameness dulls, and you under-appreciate what your readers want/will enjoy.) Despite the advertising, this book was not even close to a novel.
May 9, 2016
Well that was boring. Lots of meaningless and completely unerotic sex; too many drugs; and a nervous breakdown. Charming.
May 3, 2024
"Some people are not happy unless they are nearly passed out on a cold bathroom floor, ass dripping and gaping, mouth stretched, muscles sore, and covered in piss and lube and sweat and cum."
The preceding line is but one of a multitude of gems quipped by Henry Moss, the narrator of Andy Sinclair's brilliant, brutally and unapologetically honest, revealing, rousing novel, "Breathing Lessons."
On the surface, flight attendant turned insurance salesman Henry is the picture of the typical gay everyman, in real life and in fiction - thirtysomething, lonely and single. While his nights in Toronto may not be boring, the way he chooses to spend them is not always for his betterment.
When Henry came out, his parents and brothers were accepting and supportive, yet his mother was particularly concerned that he would end up alone, and thus far, he hasn't proven her wrong. Not only does Henry have difficulty finding someone willing to commit, more often than not they are either already spoken for or, worse yet, closeted married men on the down low.
Henry acknowledges his own unhealthy, destructive behavior, yet time and again, he finds himself drawn to those who either treat him badly (sometimes per his request) or aren't ready - or even available - for a relationship.
"Breathing Lessons" is certainly not your typical novel, in the first place because, while there is plenty of explicit sex, I don't believe the author intended to write erotica, but also because there really is no discernible plot. Each chapter depicts Henry at a different stage in his life and the lessons he learned from events that transpired and the people he knew during those times.
The reader becomes better acquainted with present-day Henry through a revolving door of friends, boyfriends, lovers, roommates, co-workers and tricks from his past. He describes select periods with intricate detail, particularly his relationship with the clinically depressed Perry who taught him a lot about himself (most of which he didn't like), while calling less attention to having survived a violent assault when he was a teenager without recognizing the potentially long-term, ongoing effects of that incident.
Simply stated, Henry is one hell of an interesting character, perhaps because (or in spite) of the fact that he isn't always likeable, and to borrow from one of his quotes, you don't know if you want him or want to be him - if even just for one wild night. His candor is blunt, concise, unambiguous and even witty, which makes this work intensely readable.
Sinclair's debut is definitely one for the record books and while I look forward to future writings, I would welcome a sequel to this one, in particular.
The preceding line is but one of a multitude of gems quipped by Henry Moss, the narrator of Andy Sinclair's brilliant, brutally and unapologetically honest, revealing, rousing novel, "Breathing Lessons."
On the surface, flight attendant turned insurance salesman Henry is the picture of the typical gay everyman, in real life and in fiction - thirtysomething, lonely and single. While his nights in Toronto may not be boring, the way he chooses to spend them is not always for his betterment.
When Henry came out, his parents and brothers were accepting and supportive, yet his mother was particularly concerned that he would end up alone, and thus far, he hasn't proven her wrong. Not only does Henry have difficulty finding someone willing to commit, more often than not they are either already spoken for or, worse yet, closeted married men on the down low.
Henry acknowledges his own unhealthy, destructive behavior, yet time and again, he finds himself drawn to those who either treat him badly (sometimes per his request) or aren't ready - or even available - for a relationship.
"Breathing Lessons" is certainly not your typical novel, in the first place because, while there is plenty of explicit sex, I don't believe the author intended to write erotica, but also because there really is no discernible plot. Each chapter depicts Henry at a different stage in his life and the lessons he learned from events that transpired and the people he knew during those times.
The reader becomes better acquainted with present-day Henry through a revolving door of friends, boyfriends, lovers, roommates, co-workers and tricks from his past. He describes select periods with intricate detail, particularly his relationship with the clinically depressed Perry who taught him a lot about himself (most of which he didn't like), while calling less attention to having survived a violent assault when he was a teenager without recognizing the potentially long-term, ongoing effects of that incident.
Simply stated, Henry is one hell of an interesting character, perhaps because (or in spite) of the fact that he isn't always likeable, and to borrow from one of his quotes, you don't know if you want him or want to be him - if even just for one wild night. His candor is blunt, concise, unambiguous and even witty, which makes this work intensely readable.
Sinclair's debut is definitely one for the record books and while I look forward to future writings, I would welcome a sequel to this one, in particular.
September 13, 2018
Generally I liked this book. Too many gay novels out there stop at age 15-19 for the protagonist, only ever discussing coming out, teenage depression and first loves... Staying within YA territory, shying away from serious topics, serious problems, promiscuity, mid-life and later depression, gay loneliness. This is the strong suit of the book. The writing style is extremely simple, there is no "beauty" to be found, but rather it's striking because it's DRIPPING with this experience of gay-in-his-thirties loneliness only by giving you a sheer, plain account of human relationships, of drug abuse, promiscuity, etc.
I didn't read more than 30-40 pages in one sitting, not because it was depressing or intense, but because the stories never resolve any of the problems presented (how could they?), and I often felt like I want to let them sit and be processed for a while.
And to mention the bad: The individual "chapters" actually form short stories. They always introduce and centre on new characters, mostly love interests or fuckbuddies that the protagonist relates to, however, sometimes they feel like they have a continuity (the protagonist seems to keep certain hobbies and certain attitudes to sex/loneliness, etc.), while sometimes they are absolutely independent and would be contradictory to other chapters (e.g. the reaction of the parents to the protagonist being gay varies). I disliked this. I would've preferred if either we clearly get one consistent protagonist, and we see these independent "slices" of this live (TRULY making a novel, which this is not), or if they were truly independent short stories with no confused connections between them.
I didn't read more than 30-40 pages in one sitting, not because it was depressing or intense, but because the stories never resolve any of the problems presented (how could they?), and I often felt like I want to let them sit and be processed for a while.
And to mention the bad: The individual "chapters" actually form short stories. They always introduce and centre on new characters, mostly love interests or fuckbuddies that the protagonist relates to, however, sometimes they feel like they have a continuity (the protagonist seems to keep certain hobbies and certain attitudes to sex/loneliness, etc.), while sometimes they are absolutely independent and would be contradictory to other chapters (e.g. the reaction of the parents to the protagonist being gay varies). I disliked this. I would've preferred if either we clearly get one consistent protagonist, and we see these independent "slices" of this live (TRULY making a novel, which this is not), or if they were truly independent short stories with no confused connections between them.
August 22, 2017
An alternate title for this book could have been, "The Endgame of Libertine Sex As An Adult." It was a sad--if not damning--indictment of the stereotypes about LGBT culture taken to their farthest conclusion.
It's not that much of a surprise that this was a bad book. Bad books happen. What was really troubling was that it was in contention for the LAMDA Literary award. Respectability politics aside, this was an unintentional cautionary tale. The author is lucky to be alive.
Reading this however, I did have the thought to myself that this would make a good book for teens (if they wouldn't be traumatized into prudishness by the content). The themes were faint enough, yet present enough, and the temptations close enough to their lives that they'd sharpen many skills while hunting through it's pages to make connections. Wouldn't be a good idea in practice though, the impression it would leave on them about gay life would be much more damaging than any minor skills they may gain.
The main character wasn't likable and was one note: sex and drugs at any and all costs, at the expense of everything. This man definitely worshiped at the alter of beauty to his own peril.
After reading it I was like, "I hope this was a lot more fiction than anything else." I didn't want to ask.
It's not that much of a surprise that this was a bad book. Bad books happen. What was really troubling was that it was in contention for the LAMDA Literary award. Respectability politics aside, this was an unintentional cautionary tale. The author is lucky to be alive.
Reading this however, I did have the thought to myself that this would make a good book for teens (if they wouldn't be traumatized into prudishness by the content). The themes were faint enough, yet present enough, and the temptations close enough to their lives that they'd sharpen many skills while hunting through it's pages to make connections. Wouldn't be a good idea in practice though, the impression it would leave on them about gay life would be much more damaging than any minor skills they may gain.
The main character wasn't likable and was one note: sex and drugs at any and all costs, at the expense of everything. This man definitely worshiped at the alter of beauty to his own peril.
After reading it I was like, "I hope this was a lot more fiction than anything else." I didn't want to ask.
June 24, 2017
I was a juror for the inaugural Frank Hegyi Award, and this book was on the shortlist of five books.
From our descriptions of the shortlisted novels:
Andy Sinclair's stunning debut Breathing Lessons, while called a novel, is actually a collection of linked short stories about a young gay man's quest for meaning. Like many queer young people before him Henry Moss leaves small town northern Ontario for the anonymity of big city life. Henry hooks up with a stream of partners, often falling for the bi married man and repeatedly having his heart broken. What happens when you wake up at 40, lonely and alone? This question is explored with such poignancy that, like Henry's wonderfully drawn mother, we worry for him. Sinclair creates a haunting atmosphere in which many readers, gay or straight, men or women will see themselves. Breathing Lessons is funny, raw, sexy and sad, and it's beautiful prose and breathtaking honesty will leave you gasping for more..
From our descriptions of the shortlisted novels:
Andy Sinclair's stunning debut Breathing Lessons, while called a novel, is actually a collection of linked short stories about a young gay man's quest for meaning. Like many queer young people before him Henry Moss leaves small town northern Ontario for the anonymity of big city life. Henry hooks up with a stream of partners, often falling for the bi married man and repeatedly having his heart broken. What happens when you wake up at 40, lonely and alone? This question is explored with such poignancy that, like Henry's wonderfully drawn mother, we worry for him. Sinclair creates a haunting atmosphere in which many readers, gay or straight, men or women will see themselves. Breathing Lessons is funny, raw, sexy and sad, and it's beautiful prose and breathtaking honesty will leave you gasping for more..
June 2, 2018
I picked this up because the title was familiar. It wasn't until halfway through that I realized Anne Tyler has a book called Breathing Lessons that I wanted to read. This isn't that book. Still, I did find it a good read even if gay literature is not a genre I would gravitate towards.
May 15, 2016
I had expected a lot from this book because it is a Lamba finalist, but I was a little unimpressed. It has no definitive plot rendering the parts of a story seem blurry. But I guess this style of writing earned it its citation from the Lamba Circle. This being said, I am still not impressed for it did not answer the question it set itself out to clarify.
July 13, 2016
Wonderful book that is probably not a novel. Maybe a short story collection is the most appropriate description. Well worth the short time it takes to read. Well developed characters supply beautiful sudden insights.
July 9, 2016
Must be a gay man thing because it was totally lost on me.
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