In 1978, in a New York gay bar, two beautiful, talented, and young men meet: Brad and Howard. It is, in a way, love at first sight. Eleven years later, in 1989, Brad says goodbye forever to Howard at the New Jersey cemetery where he’s just been buried on the day he should have been celebrating his 35th birthday. Smash Cut is the exhilarating, sad, and true story of those eleven years, as seen through the eyes of Brad. It is the story of two complicated men in a complicated time, of a magnificent yet convoluted love affair, of New York at a crossroad, of arts and AIDS and friendships. Brad Gooch is not really nostalgic, and he is not - as Patti Smith was in Just Kids, with which this book bears similarities - writing in a lyrical and poetic manner to recapture the magic of a very special era. His style is more prosaic and matter-of-factly. He’s straight to the point, and he remembers, without sentimentality but with an almost clinical eye, not only the lover and friend that is gone, but also the places they’ve shared (like Smith, they, too, lived for a while at the famed Chelsea Hotel), the incredibly vibrant artistic and gay community they were part of, the moments that brought them together and the ones that brought them apart, the anonymous as well as the famous people they knew (Andy Warhol, Robert Mapplethorpe, William S. Burroughs, Madonna make appearances), and the paths they built for themselves: Brad, a student with writing ambitions, becomes a model (his remembrances of the fashion world are very witty and amusing) before making a name for himself as a writer, while Howard becomes a director. The exciting and somehow innocent hedonism that characterizes the end of the seventies is followed by the chaotic brilliance of the eighties: both periods are wonderfully rendered through personal and intimate vignette. The complex chart of Brad and Howard’s love is told with a blunt honesty. Gooch may have penned an elegy, a requiem, an homage to the man he loved and who died too young, but he’s not shying away from the messiness of their life together: the drug addictions, the sexual escapades, the separations, the careers that sometimes took them away from each other. Yet the intense and formidable feelings that bond them and that never break are always palpable, and Smash Cut ends up being the vivid portrait of a sometimes difficult but deep and everlasting relationship. The love that Brad and Howard shared shines through the pages. Howard is mercurial and irresistible, charming and charismatic, and he is at the heart of Smash Cut: Brad, despite being the survivor and the narrator, and maybe because he wants mostly to focus on someone who truly seems to have been his soulmate, deliberately takes the backseat, and therefore his memoir is more about Howard than about himself. Still, it is hard not to be under Brad’s spell too. The last part of the book is about the AIDS tragedy, and it is its most powerful. It is actually one of the most heart wrenching and devastating accounts I have ever read of what happened then. Rarely has the unimaginable mixture of terror, love, compassion, anger, loss, suffering, trauma, and humanity in the midst of a nightmare been told in such a raw, simple, and visceral way. Brad Gooch looks at those cruel times with an unflinching eye, but with such heart that it is impossible not to read those pages without tearing up. I cried. I cried for Howard, for their love, for an era that ended up in such a horrific way, for all the men we’ve lost in those years, for Brad’s shattering pain. I probably cried for myself, too: any gay man who was of age during that decade and living in a big city (I was in Paris, not New York) will find echoes of his own experiences in Gooch's book. Ultimately, Smash Cut is a tender cry to not forget, to keep remembering the ones who have passed away, to recognize all the art that was born out of such tumultuous times. Howard will never cease to live within Brad, and Brad’s gift to us is to have dared face the heartbreaks of the past to share his memories of a man we now wish was still here. This memoir of an era gone by, and of the meteor that was Howard’s life, is one of the most harrowing and romantic books I have read lately.