Imagine a world that has fallen into chaos because of overpopulation and global warming; according to many, this future is unavoidable unless drastic measures are taken to prevent it. Now imagine Hadrian, a land of peace and plenty in a newly-temperate zone in what was once Canada, including Hudson Bay. This country features gender equality, political stability, a “green” economy, universally-accessible health care and education. Who wouldn’t want to live there?
This is the setting for a fantasy novel that functions as a political allegory. The four founding principles of the nation are: “Hadrian’s chosen lifestyle is homosexual; Hadrian is a safe haven for homosexuals; Hadrian’s goal is to create and maintain a stable human population; Hadrian will create an ecologically sound balance between humanity and nature.” All babies result from officially-approved in-vitro fertilization, or else they are aborted. The logic behind this reversal of orthodox sexual morality in the world as we know it is that social systems run by heterosexual males are driving the human race to the brink of extinction through violence, including the rape of the earth. This argument is hard to refute.
Despite the apparent strangeness of a culture in which all children are raised by same-sex couples, and teenagers either date same-sex classmates or decide they are not “ready” for a sexual/romantic relationship, the characters are believable. Families consisting of two “papas” or two “mamas” and their one or two children are shown to be close and nurturing – except in exceptional cases.
The author is a high school English teacher, and high school students are in the forefront of a plot about sexual awakening and social control. The story of Todd, a neglected boy with a widowed father, is told partly in chapters by a traditional third-person narrator, partly in news clips by a journalist, Melissa Eagleton, and partly in court transcripts that reveal the flaws in a social system designed to eliminate “deviance.”
What happens to Todd, who at first appears to be a “late bloomer,” is heartbreaking, but the narrative style avoids melodrama. Todd’s dilemma is echoed in the lives of the two “papas” who take an interest in him, Geoffrey and Dean. The reader gradually learns that the relationship between the two middle-aged men began years earlier when Geoffrey rescued Dean from one of the “re-education camps” in which young people suffering from “sexual confusion” are “helped” to discover their latent homosexuality and become fully-functioning members of society. Unfortunately, a past that includes “re-education” is much like a past designation as a “young offender:” it carries a stigma which keeps the “re-educated” out of the most prestigious jobs for life. The alternative to a “cure” is worse: exile to the outside world, where disease, starvation and violence await, or assisted suicide.
What raises this tragedy above the level of a sermon is the richness of the secondary characters. Everyone involved with Todd has a recognizable motive, and most of the characters have good intentions. Even the camp administrator whose hatred and abuse of Todd are far beyond the guidelines of “therapy” in Hadrian is not simply a cartoon villain; he is a complex man with his own tragic past.
The nation-wide scandal with Todd at the centre results in the much-needed liberalization of Hadrian’s laws and culture. The novel ends on a realistically hopeful note, although the effects of a lifetime of social conditioning are shown to be impossible to shake off just because the zeitgeist has changed. The reader (like the viewer of a tragedy, according to Aristotle) is moved to compassion.
Although this novel works as it was clearly intended to do, I would have liked to know more about the lesbian citizens of Hadrian. In general, this novel doesn’t meet the Bechdel test (invented by the cartoonist, Alison Bechdel): there have to be at least two female characters who talk to each other about something other than males. On the level of style, this novel includes typos, dangling modifiers, imprecise word choices, and an excessive number of exclamation marks. Most of these are fairly easy to skim over, but they give the book an unnecessarily amateurish look.
Despite its flaws, this book is a must-read that bravely tells the truth about “underage” sexuality. As the author explains in the foreword:
“Out of respect for the LGBT [lesbian/gay/bisexual/transgender] community I do not want to dull the edge of sexual discrimination created by the graphic nature of the sexual scenes in this book regardless of some characters being under the age of eighteen. I have turned the tables for a reason. I want the heterosexual community to understand what it would feel like to have the very essence of one’s being rejected by society. We need to understand what it feels like to have others HATE us just because the way we love is deemed abhorrent.”
Amen to that.