The year is 1946. A brash young naval officer faces court-martial for standing up to a lazy officer in the closing days of World War II. In the midst of this turmoil, he meets the man who will change his life.
When it was first published in 1950, 'Quatrefoil' marked a milestone in gay writing. Now, four decades later, this book remains a magnificent love story and a tribute to the human spirit. In a new epilogue the author reveals for the first time, the story behind his ground-breaking novel.
James Fugaté published the novel Quatrefoil and other works under the pseudonym James Barr, an alias he also used in his work as an activist in the homophile movement of the 1950s.
Fugaté was born on February 13, 1922 in an oilfield boomtown in either Texas or Oklahoma. His mother died of childbed fever; he never knew his father.
Fugaté's illegitimate birth haunted him as a child, but his adoptive parents, who had money from wheat and oil in Kansas, gave him a good education. His best-known work, the novel Quatrefoil (1950), is based on his experience in the U.S. Navy during World War II, but a central character is patterned after a fraternity brother with whom Fugaté had sex as a university student. (He appears to have been a student either at the University of Kansas or the University of Oklahoma.)
From an historical perspective, Quatrefoil is immensely significant. It is known for being the first American novel to depict gay relationships in a positive way. In the 1950s, Quatrefoil (pronounced cat-er-foil) became the bible for battling suicidal thoughts and embracing monogamous love, while simultaneously masquerading as straight to avoid blackmail and social ruin. Often the plot functions more as self-help than fiction. Tim and Phillip, one more experienced with his identity as a homosexual, the other still coming to grips, serve as stand-ins for readers going through their own journey.
Given this historical context, it’s no wonder the book became such a classic—and deemed so “obscene” that Greenberg, its publisher, was indicted on a federal charge of “sending obscene material through the mail." After five years of legal woes, they eventually settled on a $3,500 fine and promised to keep the novel out of print. All this hullabaloo, mind you, for a book with absolutely zero sex scenes—not even a kiss! The only “problem” was its depiction of gay love in a positive light.
The novel is also significant for its post-WWII context. Literary scholar Drewey Wayne Gunn went so far as to consider it "one of the most important postwar documents.” Indeed, it is hard to imagine a better inside look at late 1940s gay issues in the military.
As obscenity laws finally relaxed in the 1960s, reprinted editions were available to a new generation of readers. These editions are likely what David Irwin and Dick Hewetson read, inspiring them so much that they eventually opened an entire lending library of queer literature to the public. They named it the “Quatrefoil Library” in honor of this influential book. The library, located in Minneapolis, continues to be a vibrant community and resource for every sort of queer texts.
All this juicy history aside, the novel doesn’t hold up so well from an entertainment perspective. Anthony Slide, a scholar who’s even nerdier than me about forgotten books with historical significance, admitted the novel is “overwritten, overwrought, and peopled with characters that seldom break through the fictional veneer.” That’s certainly a fair criticism.
The first half is almost insistent on making the main character disagreeable, but worse than that is how exhaustively veiled the sexuality is. Barr overwrites, because he intentionally wants to bury gay feelings beneath the weight of everything else. Totally accurate to how a frenzied 1950s gay mind would have been, and I understand how such hints would have enthralled its original audience, but we’re spoiled enough now that this style of writing makes many chapters exhausting at best and practically unreadable at worst.
The final quarter is considerably stronger, however, and the ending—hated by many—is actually quite profound, if not unnecessarily tragic and somewhat confirmative to hetero expectations. It took me four months to slog through the first three hundred pages, but I devoured the last fifty in two sittings.
I was surprised how much of the “advice” remains relevant. Barr’s 1950 perspective on navigating homophobic family and society while still pursuing your own gay happiness is, sadly, still a dilemma. Blackmail is less of an issue, and we can’t be discharged from the military or sent off to jail for violating sodomy laws, but homophobia is not dead. Society at large is more accepting, but families are still torn on this issue—and that’s the hate that hurts the most.
This is one of the oddest books I've ever read. Very much a product of its time (1950), reading it now requires something of a dualistic mindset - flickering back and forth between seeing how it would have read back then, to how it reads now. In some respects, it reads like the screenplay to a long-lost Sirk film - and one can readily see Rock Hudson playing Tim, Dorothy Malone as Pat, Lauren Bacall as Fan, Jane Wyman as Victoria, perhaps James Dean as Tim. Regardless, it is definitely overwritten and much of the dialogue descends into preachy pedanticism.
Still, there is no denying how ahead of its time and really quite radical it often is in its straightforward depiction of the foibles of being openly homosexual in the middle of the last century. Read as part of a month-long project of reading seminal classics of early gay lit for Pride Month, it is a fine example of how the subject was treated back then - and though there is somewhat of a tragic ending, at least it doesn't descend to the cliche of having the protagonist commit suicide, which is foreshadowed during much of the book.
Hilarious sidenote - as a San Francisco native I had to laugh that a couple of times Barr refers to KNOB Hill and MARRIN County!
Written in 1950, and set in 1946, I didn’t really have any doubt as to how the story would end. It was rare to find a book written in this time which had a happy ending, so if that’s all you want from a book, this isn’t for you.
It’s one of those books that you really should be reading if you want to write in this genre, not because it’s a work of genius but because it shines a light on times and a mind set that no longer exists in our Western world.
It’s very much a coming-of-age story. Despite being 23, Phillip Froelich (pronounced Froylich) comes over as young for his age. At the beginning of the book he’s seen leaving his ship under a cloud and heading to Naval Headquarters to face a General Court Martial for striking a superior officer–namely his captain. If ever there was a protagonist likely to alienate the reader, it’s Phillip for at least half of this book. He’s just horrible. A terrible snog, a real prig, prickly, rude to just about everyone and thinks he’s better than just about everyone. As the blurb explains he considers himself to be a MAN, fully masculine and he has a loathing of “nancies.” He made a close friend on board his ship, but repulsed him violently when he made a pass at him. He knows that men of that persuasion are attracted to him but he blames them, he sees nothing in himself that he can blame for this.
So when he meets Tim Danelaw, rich, urbane, seemingly easy in his own skin, and giving off more than mere signals that he’s interested in Phillip, Phillip is thrown, because some deeply buried part of him is responding. The rest of the story is the journey that Phillip takes, mentored patiently by Tim, to accept himself for what he is .
It is a dated book–I can’t see any men of today having the kind of philosophical conversations about homosexuality that these two men have, and it’s not a particularly easy read, as some of the concepts were a little beyond me. But it is interesting to see–in a world where the homosexual community had yet to become in any way cohesive–how some men viewed homosexuality, even when it surfaced in themselves. I found it disturbing that even Tim–the more rational and knowledgeable of the two–considered anything but a ‘intelligent’ meeting of minds and bodies would be depraved and base. Whether that was the opinion of Barr I don’t know. I have to wonder what he’d think of some of the community these days!
The characterisation is masterful. I’ve already said that Phillip is absolutely loathsome at the beginning–and indeed for much of–of the book. That he does mellow, and begin to look around him and to realise that there is more available for himself than he had plans for. He thinks he’s tremendously ambitious, but his house in that respect is actually based on sand and it takes Tim to point this out.
The way Tim guides and moulds Phillip is beautifully done, too. He is truly an Erastes to Phillip’s Eromenos. He somehow understands Phillip’s mind perfectly (or almost so) and knows when to push and when to let the young man find his own way. It is through Tim’s eyes that we see Phillip in his home environment–and discover many of the reasons why he is the way he is at the beginning of the book.
As well as the slow and tender growing relationship between the two which takes the entire book, there are a good handful of other subplots all fuelled by characters as three dimensional as the main protagonists. I won’t go into them because it would far too spoilery.
Although I found it a little hard to get involved with–purely because of my dislike of Phillip–by the middle of the book I was entirely hooked and couldn’t bear to get to the end because I had a pretty shrewd idea of how it was going to go and I was heartbroken to find I was right. That being said, there’s a fair pinch of hope at the end too, so it’s not all gloom and doom.
If you can get hold of a copy at a reasonable price–try Abe Books or the Book Depository–then do grab it, because it’s a really lovely long, plotty and literary read and if that’s your bag, you’ll hoover it up.
Quatrefoil is a coming out story with a difference. Although Phillip Froelich, the protagonist, is regularly called "boy" and looks like an ephebe (he is supposed to be the incarnation of Donatello's St George), he is already 23 when the story takes place. He is also far from a lovable man. In fact through out the book, he is execrable and various characters don't hesitate to dress him with various unflattering epithets. He does come across a lot of the time as a spoilt brat though he finally and thankfully mellows out under the influence of Tim Danelaw.
In fact the first half at least proves a little emotionally tiring to read: almost all interactions we witness are somehow confrontational; Phillip hating people on sight, being rude to them or getting angry for no reason. It is indeed difficult if not impossible to find the beauty Tim sees in Phillip's mind.
Despite this however, Quatrefoil manages to be an intriguing story that keeps the reader guessing as to where it is going, though it is, with hindsight, predicable. This is perhaps due to the fact that it was written in the late 40s, where different rules of engagement prevailed for literary creation, particularly on the subject matter of homosexuality.
In many respect the book is a product of its age. The internalise homophobia, the familiar cod-psychology to apologies for and justify same-sex feelings are there, though more subtle than in most books of that time. Also present is the extolation of the intellectual and moral superiority of gay men. Barr recognisably harks back to hellenistic mythology, which explicitly serves as model for his story (older, more experienced man takes beautiful youth under his wing and protection, not for sexual gratification but to help form and mould his mind). The Sacred Band of Thebes even gets a name-check were we in any doubt.
But somehow Quatrefoil seems to transcend its age, at least to some extent. The writing is confident and elegant and even the longish philosophical discussions between the characters, which could easily become clumsily veiled sermons to reader, although sometimes rather opaque, retain a truthful element to them.
This was a very pleasant discovery for me, and I've order copies of Barr's other two books to continue exploring his literary universe. Get a copy, if you can find one...
This book is AMAZING! There really isn't too much else to say except that if you haven't read this book - you should!!! The love story is crafted perfectly and the main character, Phillip Froelich, is the perfect anti-hero. He has so many qualities of the young guy struggling with who he is and the eventual discovery of that truth only to be thrust again into acceptance without the catalyst.
This book is in my top five books of all time. It takes place at the close of WWII, in Seattle and San Francisco, as well as Oklahoma. THe characters are very real and it is over all a huge piece of gay Americana. Pre "don't ask don't tell", pre "acceptance", the struggles in this book have a much higher consequence rate!
James Barr is a tremendous novelist! Some would think taht he had his one literary hit, but if you are able to find another of his books ie THE OCCASIONAL MAN, you will not be disappointed. It is a true lesson in our past to have this man's work written in a time before it would be accepted and surviving for those of us today to enjoy!
QUATREFOIL is a beautifully written and important mid-20th century novel that should be better known than it is. It tells the story of Phillip Froelich, the scion of a wealthy Oklahoma family, and Tim Danelaw, the scion of a wealthy Milwaukee family with a vast brewery fortune. It begins with a 23 year old Phillip about to be court martialed from the US Navy in 1946. At his darkest hour, he meets the handsome and mysterious Commander Danelaw who uses his connections in the Navy and his vast wealth to guide and protect Phillip when he most needs help. Tim is 10 years older and had longer to come to terms with who he is, and the familiar older-younger vibe of the story was appealing to me and believable.
The book jacket sums up the plot, so I won’t do that here. I will say the eloquent use of language and rich vocabulary pulled me right in, and I was sorry when the novel ended. The WWII era and its aftermath were impactful in the opportunities they presented for gay men and women to continue the slow, but steady march towards broader acceptance in law and society – a march that has taken decades and still continues. I understand that QUATREFOIL, which was published in 1950, is the first (or one of the first) books to show gay men and their love for each other in a positive light. That historical perspective alone makes QUATREFOIL worthy of reading.
It is saddening to think of the challenges both Phillip and Tim faced and the internal conflicts and conversations with oneself that each had to have. Gay sex was illegal then, and the threat of punishment and fear of blackmail made me uncomfortable enough to skip ahead to find out what happened, because I didn’t think I could bear to continue if the guys were to hate or kill themselves. I also found the treatment of women rather disturbing to read, since there seemed to be little sympathy or regard for women unwittingly tricked into marrying men who could never fully love them.
The book isn’t perfect, but probably could have been with a different editor. Structurally, I think the tension of the impending court martial could have been used to better effect in terms of driving the plot. Additionally, as rich as the language is, I think some passages and conversations between Phillip and Tim continued longer than they should have and bogged the story down. With tighter editing, those could have been fixed and QUATREFOIL would edge over the line to greatness. That said, I loved the book overall and would put it on the shelf next to THE CITY AND THE PILLAR, GIOVANNI’S ROOM, and A BOY’S OWN STORY in terms of its importance to gay-themed literature, particularly of its time.
The good: suspenseful, plotty, an interesting historical note to a time when people could live like lords in towns of 50,000 people in dry-state Oklahoma. A madly competent erastes-type mentor is pretty much a hero-out-of-thin-air but also a little Heathcliff-like. There is a hilarious fiancee in here.
The less good: a bit didactic. some breathy descriptions of people, esp. the protagonist, who is portrayed as some sort of savage cat-god. I feel like 90% of the novel except for at the very end for the protagonist was very "hm, there is this guy around who is helping me out, with a very hot wife, I guess for him I can take it or leave it." Emotional pull from the relationship is there but not too hard hitting.
One of the best books I have ever read and one of the best books in gay literature that I have read.
This book needs to be better known, because it is truly a work of art. It is well ahead of its time and just shocking to know this was written in the 50's, when it would have been a tremendously controversial book. Today, it is no more than a love story, and a wonderful one that hits you in the heart.
It is a very accessible book, while being written in beautiful prose, akin to the time. Read it and spread the word!
An important early novel of gay love. The writing is melodramatic and somewhat reminiscent of a Harlequin bodice ripper, but the author's sincerity and impassioned pleas for tolerance shine through, along with the character's love for one another.
This novel is seriously problematic. I wrote my dissertation in queer theory. I understand the historical context of this novel. I understand its approach and purpose. I am glad I did not read this when I was a teenager trying to figure out my sexuality. In 1950, homosexuals were demonized and persecuted. The real fight for liberation and acceptance was just being theorized. One tactic was to situate modern homosexuals after the ancient Greek model: high-minded, elite, steeped in rationality and philosophy. This book is basically a Socratic dialogue positioning high-minded homosexuals against degenerate (the author's word) homosexuals--which would be most of us. The elitism and snobbery here is disturbing. The Platonic philosophy is in full view in the characters and their ponderous thoughts and words: The unexamined life is not worth living. But the philosophic answer to that dictum is more than relevant here: The over-examined life is not worth living. Thankfully, historically, this elitist model did not take, and people like Harry Hay, Frank Kameny, Phyllis Lyon and Del Martin, Ernestine Eckstein, Bayard Rustin--and many others would--would begin the public work needed to liberate all queer people. It would take time for good gay and lesbian novels to emerge, but Baldwin, Renault, and Highsmith were working on them. Unfortunately, this is not one of them.
3.5 stars. So nice sections. Definitely a product of its time, though the well constructed, preachy dialogue heavy sections that advocate for queer acceptance at a bit forced. Still nice to read. Thread of misogyny. Mostly positive except for the abrupt tragic ending.
Enough has been written, I suppose, about homosexual self-loathing posited as an ideal attitude in *Quatrefoil*: romantic love between men can be virtuous as long as there's no sex. But even if one is inclined to feel charitable, considering the time and place in which *Quatrefoil* takes place and was written, this simply isn't a very good novel. Much of the action is painfully contrived, especially the longer conversations, and the banking intrigue subplot is, to put it mildly, tedious. The writing is often absurdly florid, sometimes embarrassingly so (the passage where Phillip gazes into Tim's ring, for instance). The description of the Froelich mansion is so doggedly detailed that for the first time in my life I found myself longing for Adalbert Stifter's manner of dismissing everything he didn't want to (or couldn't) describe as "die Geräte", and passages abound in which a lengthy description of furnishings or miscellaneous bric-a-brac is followed by a sentence telling us how Tim derived some insight into Phillip's character from it. One longs for less description of character (and things) and more display of character by means of action or at least conversation -- except that all too often the author uses conversation as a pretext for speechifying.
Minor irritations abound. Phillip finds art effeminate, but not, strangely enough, a ballet to music by Chopin (obviously *Les Sylphides*); we get references to a "custom's gate", a city called "Turino", and a county in California called "Marrin". People from Oklahoma are frequently referred to as "Oakies" -- did Okies like the author actually use that spelling in the 1940s? But perhaps I'm being unkind; most soi-disant literati would find "Phillip would like to have lingered" to be correct English when context demanded "Phillip would have liked to linger", so who am I to complain?
The best thing about *Quatrefoil* is the epilogue provided by the author for the second (1991) Alyson edition; it is direct, poignant, and honest. The worst thing is the cover illustration for the first (1982) Alyson edition:
Alyson: "Loly, I need a front cover illustration of a sailor but all I have is $20." Loly: "Okay, fine, describe the sailor." Alyson: "Tall, blond, blue-eyed stud god." Loly: "For $20 you're getting a frizzy-haired, needle-nosed, thin-lipped queen in bad perspective."
23 years old naval officer Phillip Froelich arrives in Seattle after the end of World War II to face court-martial for insubordination. Heir of a small fortune and promised to a bright if not tedious future back in his homestead in Oklahoma, he meets his superior officer Tim Danelaw to whom he becomes gradually drawn to. What follows is a journey of self-discovery fraught with drama, intrigues and philosophical debates on the nature of homosexuality.
Although predated by Gore Vidal's The City and the Pillar, the cultural significance of James (W. Figaté) Barr's Quatrefoil should never be understated. Although both novels are frank depictions of lives of homosexuals at the end of the 40's, Barr's characters are almost defiantly self-assured, acquiring peace of mind and genuine happiness by embracing their true nature, in stark contrast with Gore's landmark novel where homosexuality was presented in more conflictual terms. James Barr's talent as a writer is unquestioned, his prose both precise and expansive, poetic even. Occasionally his descriptions can veer towards the grandiose, but these lapses are few and far between. His elegant style carries a tightly structured plot at fast yet smooth pace, making this novel on the whole, a remarkably easy read.
Interestingly, this piece seems to loose its footing everytime the core topic of the novel is being discussed. We then get the distinct feeling of an author debating with himself, his well fleshed out characters almost reduced to finger puppets. Some of his considerations about effeminacy might prove problematic to a modern audience but it would be good to remember that this was what homosexuals of the time had to wrestle with, when any faux-pas could ruin careers and lifes. Not only Quatrefoil is an excellent novel, a bold and brave one, an engaging one, but it is also an important artefact of LGBTQ+ history.
This book has historical and social relevance and value, which makes it a worthwhile read. In it, we see the world and people through the eyes of the privileged son of a wealthy family. He's beholden to their past and future, feeling the limits of that future and his role in it quite keenly. At the same time, he struggles to allow himself to be truthful about his true desires, both for his life and his sexuality (he is homosexual within a culture (Southern American and American military in the 1950's) that sees this as an abomination. There's a lot of nuanced internal and external dialogue, as well as some social interactions and alterations that reveal his explorations and development as a person. An interesting read with several enjoyable parts, it certainly isn't plot driven or necessarily happy, despite the central character growing in a positive way toward acceptance and honesty.
It's 1946 and Phillip Froelich is about to face a Naval court martial for insubordination. He is shipped to Seattle to face the music, but along the way he meets Tim Danelaw and his carefully crafted future begins to crumble.
It's hard to like any of the characters here, and the couple's preoccupation with planning a double life so they can maintain their place in the closet--and in "society"--seems pretty foreign to a modern reader. The convoluted intellectual wrangling the characters engage in to justify their decisions also seems weirdly unnecessary. However, as a window into the world of mid-century America, this is an important and revealing novel, particularly vis-a-vis those in sexual minorities.
Considered the first novel to depict a homosexual relationship between two respected men in a positive manner, Quatrefoil is significant in many ways. It is a well-crafted and compelling love story - beautifully written with thoughtful, fully developed characters. I fell in love with Phillip and Tim. The last 80 or so pages contain thought provoking exchanges between the lovers, which surely helped readers process feelings about sexuality and feeling different. In this way, this book provides a blueprint on surviving when society isn’t/wasn’t ready to accept. Essential read for gay men…important read for anyone interested in our struggles…enjoyable read for any looking for a love story.
Although I’d rate this a bit below 4 stars, I’ll round up since it was fairly groundbreaking for the time. The first half was very fun, even if Phillip was a bit intolerable, but once they got to Nebraska and descended into endless intellectual conversations on the nature of their queerness, the story dragged. I could’ve used more interiority and passion. I enjoyed the last bit, which introduced, briefly, a bit of conflict. However, the last tragic beat was rushed. I think there are better books from this era (The Price of Salt and Giovanni’s Room come to mind), but if you like mid century queer literary fiction, I’d say this is still worth a read.
The story of how two men in a time at the end of WWII come to grips with homosexuality. One man is older and more sure of his feelings and beliefs. The younger man is far less secure and tied to expectations from family. The novel is not erotic. It is far more about morality at a time in American history when sexuality was based entirely upon some vague ideal of normality including how the two navy men cope with feelings, friends, and family. While the story is historically interesting, the text at time grows wordy. Overall, it provides a history of sexual differences.
The Quatrefoil Library in Minneapolis, a GLBT lending library, is named for this book. The founders believed it to be the first novel to depict gay men in a positive light. I volunteer at the library, so I figured I had to read it. Highly worth my time.
It's lively, thought-provoking, and an interesting look to what it was like to be a closeted gay man in the 1950s.
A good insight on what it was like to be Gay in 1946. The word Gay is not mentioned in the book. In 1951, gay appeared in the Oxford English Dictionary for the first time as slang for homosexual but was used in this way “underground” since 1920. The book was controversial because of the subject matter even though it did not contain sexual scenes.
Every American man should read this ground breaking book. It's more than a classic, it is a window into male relationships, whether it be gay, straight or bromance.
A classic groundbreaking gay novel telling the story of a love in a place and time. It also includes the mandatory tragic ending slapped on without which it wouldn't have been published, making it also the telling of gay fiction in a place and a time.
One of the first books I read, Quatrefoil is a classic and stereotypical of gay novels at the time it was written. If one was to design a list of novels to illustrate the evolution of the gay genre...and of the gay man, this is surely 1 of the novels which would be included.
Well written with a most likable MC, Quatrefoil relates the story of a man, who, as in the 100s of novels to follow in the ensuing decades, was searching for love. Quatrefoil is about love, that human emotion which is the common thread throughout the history of the gay man. At the time which this novel was written loving another man was not acceptable by society; however, that did not stop the determined 'homosexual' from seeking out one of the most basic of all human desires.