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I Look Divine
Like Dorian Gray, the exquisite Nicholas limned in this sleek and troubling novella may become a cult figure.
The self-absorbed, narcissistic young man feels he has been exceptional from the moment of his birth by Caesarian section; he was thus unmarked and more perfect than other babies. "There is no such thing as more perfect," corrects his mother. "Of course there is," says Nicholas. To avoid unsightly lines, he never smiles when photographed; to avoid even a trace of fat, he eats little: the obi of the kimono in which he often poses winds twice around his waist. The men he fancies bestow upon him rare enamels, ivory carvings, jewels because, he explains with apparent guilelessness to his older brother, who narrates the novel, it pleases them to do so.
But ointments and finery are helpless against the years. At 30 Nicholas the odalisque begins to resemble a tart; at 37 he is dead. His brother, summoned by Nicholas's landlady to collect the lapsed body and now-scarred valuables, looks back fondly, objectively and suggestively upon a life no longer valid once physical beauty is flawed.
Sensual, mocking and deadly serious, this first novel casts a long shadow.
The self-absorbed, narcissistic young man feels he has been exceptional from the moment of his birth by Caesarian section; he was thus unmarked and more perfect than other babies. "There is no such thing as more perfect," corrects his mother. "Of course there is," says Nicholas. To avoid unsightly lines, he never smiles when photographed; to avoid even a trace of fat, he eats little: the obi of the kimono in which he often poses winds twice around his waist. The men he fancies bestow upon him rare enamels, ivory carvings, jewels because, he explains with apparent guilelessness to his older brother, who narrates the novel, it pleases them to do so.
But ointments and finery are helpless against the years. At 30 Nicholas the odalisque begins to resemble a tart; at 37 he is dead. His brother, summoned by Nicholas's landlady to collect the lapsed body and now-scarred valuables, looks back fondly, objectively and suggestively upon a life no longer valid once physical beauty is flawed.
Sensual, mocking and deadly serious, this first novel casts a long shadow.
109 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1987
9 people are currently reading
583 people want to read
About the author
Christopher Coe
6 books13 followersChristopher Coe was born in Pennsylvania in 1953 and raised in Portland, Oregon. As an adult he lived in both New York City and Paris.
As well as a writer, Coe also worked as a photographer and cabaret singer. His first novel, I Look Divine, was published in 1987, his second, Such Times, in 1993.
Coe died of AIDS on 6 September 1994 at his home in Manhattan.
As well as a writer, Coe also worked as a photographer and cabaret singer. His first novel, I Look Divine, was published in 1987, his second, Such Times, in 1993.
Coe died of AIDS on 6 September 1994 at his home in Manhattan.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 46 reviews
October 5, 2012
Sometimes, when I am in a rut for reading material, I try to find a slim novel that helps purge my brain. That’s not to say that I look for fluff; this exercise merely allows me to read a novel quickly, not spend too much time with the story or the characters. Admittedly, most of these types of novels have been of the science fiction variety. Few have been “literary.”
So, the other night I was in one of these funks. I knew I was about to embark upon a reading experience with John Updike so my mind kept wandering toward my bookshelves, looking for a “quick read.” I have about 400 books I have not read in my collection…science fiction, mystery, literature, crime…but, for some reason, my eye caught I LOOK DIVINE by Christopher Coe. Nothing I did was going to dissuade me from reading this novel. It fit all my requirements: slim (109 pages), sparse/crisp writing, few creative acrobatics, and an easy reading style. Perfect.
Or, so I thought. You see, sometimes, these novels pack a heckofa left hook.
I LOOK DIVINE is the story of Nicolas, told through the memories of his unnamed older brother. Nicolas is a homosexual with a few eccentricities. Besides being a certified genius, he chooses phrases or words that represent him for that year, words like: élan, panache, de trop. He may not use them correctly to society’s standards, but in his world they work. Nicolas is also obsessed with his face. He refuses to even be photographed with a smile; those pictures that are taken when he is smiling he ruins. He requires that he be posing in a photograph, nothing is natural, uncensored. When talking to prospective partners, Nicolas reinvents his life. But, again, there is more to it than just that. You see, Nicolas will reinvent all parts of his story. For instance, when discussing his birth with a rich man at a bar in France, Nicolas not only makes up a story about how he was conceived in one of the rooms upstairs, he also makes up the date, the setting, the people involved. The only thing Nicolas never makes up his brother. For this reader, I was both appalled by Nicolas’s narcissism and vanity, and, strangely, enthralled and eager to read what lie he was going to say next. While reading, images and thoughts of Dorian Gray kept popping up in my head. But all of this is seemingly innocent. Unfortunately, Nicolas has a darker side. He is prone to make fun of people with his incredible knack of duplicating the person’s voice he is trying to make fun of. The more this happens in the book the darker and more malicious these acts become. Most noticeably, when Nicolas and his brother are in a piano bar, after having been in a seedy bar that Nicolas frequents to troll, Nicolas mocks the lounge singer after he convinces the piano player to play the same song that the singer previously sang. At first, I thought this was funny. But as the episode unfolded, Coe had an agenda. He wanted the reader to hate Nicolas. He wanted Nicolas to be despised. It worked. I did hate Nicolas for his outward cruelty. The only saving grace for Nicolas was his brother. Coe writes the seen so well:
I thought about the time, the practice, that Nicolas must have gone to, to teach himself to sing so exactly like the singer.
I asked him why he had not sung with his own voice, like himself.
Nicolas gave me a look that told me I had missed something.
“Why would I sing like myself?” my brother asked me. “I have never done anything like myself.”
SNAP! I finally got it. After reading 103 pages of a 109 page novella, I finally began to understand Nicolas. He wasn’t being malicious for malicious’ sake, he was being malicious because he can’t control what mask he wears. For Nicolas, the world is a big stage, he the star performer. Sometimes his roles are innocent, as when he was a child. But, as age closed in on him, and his looks faded, and money lost that fake luster of happiness, Nicolas was only good at roles that served the purpose of him one-upping another individual. Again, this may not seem as such an emotional impact, but once the reader realizes, and it is mentioned a few times obscurely throughout the text, that Nicolas was murdered by one of his lovers, does true empathy for Nicolas come out from the reader.
I LOOK DIVINE was Mr. Coe’s first novel. He only published one more before his own untimely death from AIDS at the age of 41. For my money, Coe is as a powerful writer as any that came out of the 1980’s New York scene; I’m looking at you Brett Easton Ellis, and, you too, Donna Tartt, and, though I hate to admit it, even you Jay McInerney.
In summation: The best way to leave you is with what the New York Times said of Mr. Coe’s novel I LOOK DIVINE: “a daring novel, with unflinchingly honest characters…[Coe] is about the truth of [his] character’s hearts.”
Not bad for a slim novel, eh?
HIGHEST POSSIBLE RECOMMENDATION
So, the other night I was in one of these funks. I knew I was about to embark upon a reading experience with John Updike so my mind kept wandering toward my bookshelves, looking for a “quick read.” I have about 400 books I have not read in my collection…science fiction, mystery, literature, crime…but, for some reason, my eye caught I LOOK DIVINE by Christopher Coe. Nothing I did was going to dissuade me from reading this novel. It fit all my requirements: slim (109 pages), sparse/crisp writing, few creative acrobatics, and an easy reading style. Perfect.
Or, so I thought. You see, sometimes, these novels pack a heckofa left hook.
I LOOK DIVINE is the story of Nicolas, told through the memories of his unnamed older brother. Nicolas is a homosexual with a few eccentricities. Besides being a certified genius, he chooses phrases or words that represent him for that year, words like: élan, panache, de trop. He may not use them correctly to society’s standards, but in his world they work. Nicolas is also obsessed with his face. He refuses to even be photographed with a smile; those pictures that are taken when he is smiling he ruins. He requires that he be posing in a photograph, nothing is natural, uncensored. When talking to prospective partners, Nicolas reinvents his life. But, again, there is more to it than just that. You see, Nicolas will reinvent all parts of his story. For instance, when discussing his birth with a rich man at a bar in France, Nicolas not only makes up a story about how he was conceived in one of the rooms upstairs, he also makes up the date, the setting, the people involved. The only thing Nicolas never makes up his brother. For this reader, I was both appalled by Nicolas’s narcissism and vanity, and, strangely, enthralled and eager to read what lie he was going to say next. While reading, images and thoughts of Dorian Gray kept popping up in my head. But all of this is seemingly innocent. Unfortunately, Nicolas has a darker side. He is prone to make fun of people with his incredible knack of duplicating the person’s voice he is trying to make fun of. The more this happens in the book the darker and more malicious these acts become. Most noticeably, when Nicolas and his brother are in a piano bar, after having been in a seedy bar that Nicolas frequents to troll, Nicolas mocks the lounge singer after he convinces the piano player to play the same song that the singer previously sang. At first, I thought this was funny. But as the episode unfolded, Coe had an agenda. He wanted the reader to hate Nicolas. He wanted Nicolas to be despised. It worked. I did hate Nicolas for his outward cruelty. The only saving grace for Nicolas was his brother. Coe writes the seen so well:
I thought about the time, the practice, that Nicolas must have gone to, to teach himself to sing so exactly like the singer.
I asked him why he had not sung with his own voice, like himself.
Nicolas gave me a look that told me I had missed something.
“Why would I sing like myself?” my brother asked me. “I have never done anything like myself.”
SNAP! I finally got it. After reading 103 pages of a 109 page novella, I finally began to understand Nicolas. He wasn’t being malicious for malicious’ sake, he was being malicious because he can’t control what mask he wears. For Nicolas, the world is a big stage, he the star performer. Sometimes his roles are innocent, as when he was a child. But, as age closed in on him, and his looks faded, and money lost that fake luster of happiness, Nicolas was only good at roles that served the purpose of him one-upping another individual. Again, this may not seem as such an emotional impact, but once the reader realizes, and it is mentioned a few times obscurely throughout the text, that Nicolas was murdered by one of his lovers, does true empathy for Nicolas come out from the reader.
I LOOK DIVINE was Mr. Coe’s first novel. He only published one more before his own untimely death from AIDS at the age of 41. For my money, Coe is as a powerful writer as any that came out of the 1980’s New York scene; I’m looking at you Brett Easton Ellis, and, you too, Donna Tartt, and, though I hate to admit it, even you Jay McInerney.
In summation: The best way to leave you is with what the New York Times said of Mr. Coe’s novel I LOOK DIVINE: “a daring novel, with unflinchingly honest characters…[Coe] is about the truth of [his] character’s hearts.”
Not bad for a slim novel, eh?
HIGHEST POSSIBLE RECOMMENDATION
March 26, 2010
Bitchy, funny, and coldly precise--- the narrator looks back over the life of his dead (murdered) younger brother, who built his life around being feted for his beauty. Call it a kind of Dorian Gray adjunct, and a cautionary tale about the cruelty of beauty and entitlement. And it does have deliciously wicked lines. When the narrator berates his teenaged brother for accepting gifts from older men,his brother dismisses the criticism by saying, "My dear, there is a difference between trade and tribute..." Perfect line, elegant book.
May 9, 2021
I Look Divine is simply divine.
My mother wrote in the baby book she kept for me that when I was 4 years old—“Dennis likes to watch the Muppets, color with crayons and he loves to look at himself in the mirror.” I often wonder what she wondered when she wrote that.
pg 31 ~
She said that no matter how rich or smart, boys had to be something. She said all boys had to...
“All right,” Nicholas went on.. “If I have to be something, I think I shall be captivating.”
My mother wrote in the baby book she kept for me that when I was 4 years old—“Dennis likes to watch the Muppets, color with crayons and he loves to look at himself in the mirror.” I often wonder what she wondered when she wrote that.
pg 31 ~
She said that no matter how rich or smart, boys had to be something. She said all boys had to...
“All right,” Nicholas went on.. “If I have to be something, I think I shall be captivating.”
September 13, 2021
This was just what I needed.
Something about “I Look Divine” reminded me a little bit of Caroline Blackwood's writing, maybe the first person narrator who doesn't tell you quite everything (but just enough), or the unlikable characters, sometimes funny, often insufferable, and the horrible things they say and do, or the fact of it being a shorter novel that truly packs a punch. I went in, probably because of the title, thinking the story would be told from Nicholas' point of view and instead was surprised to find how well it worked from his brother's. I suspect Nicholas would have been too unreliable a narrator and we wouldn't learn nearly as much about him. Since his character deals heavily with issues of identity and is constantly putting on acts, we as readers need some sort of outside perspective not only to show how obviously affected his persona is, but to spot the cracks in his facade, to catch him in his lies and fabrications and to see how others see him and respond to his antics. The odd (nearly incestual) relationship between Nicholas and his brother was also fascinating to read about, really every conversation they had, as well as the trips they took to Rome, Mexico, hotels, gay bars - all written in little snapshots. And though the novella length was perfect, I wish there were 200 more pages! Highly recommended.
I also learned the word "putrescent”, which for some reason makes me laugh.
Something about “I Look Divine” reminded me a little bit of Caroline Blackwood's writing, maybe the first person narrator who doesn't tell you quite everything (but just enough), or the unlikable characters, sometimes funny, often insufferable, and the horrible things they say and do, or the fact of it being a shorter novel that truly packs a punch. I went in, probably because of the title, thinking the story would be told from Nicholas' point of view and instead was surprised to find how well it worked from his brother's. I suspect Nicholas would have been too unreliable a narrator and we wouldn't learn nearly as much about him. Since his character deals heavily with issues of identity and is constantly putting on acts, we as readers need some sort of outside perspective not only to show how obviously affected his persona is, but to spot the cracks in his facade, to catch him in his lies and fabrications and to see how others see him and respond to his antics. The odd (nearly incestual) relationship between Nicholas and his brother was also fascinating to read about, really every conversation they had, as well as the trips they took to Rome, Mexico, hotels, gay bars - all written in little snapshots. And though the novella length was perfect, I wish there were 200 more pages! Highly recommended.
I also learned the word "putrescent”, which for some reason makes me laugh.
January 13, 2021
This was really good. I was sucked in and even though there’s no real plot to it I was pulled along as if it was structured like one of the most exciting thrillers or something. No action whatsoever, except going to a few bars and a pyramid. It’s an emotional thriller. The characters are all unlikeable and I enjoyed that. These two brothers are such compelling characters. I wish there was a few times in the book Nicolas was able to connect with people on a heart to heart level, but oh well, plenty of people can’t connect in real life. I’ll read this again
January 30, 2019
It reminded me a little bit of RAVELSTEIN in that a straight man narrates the story of a larger-than-life gay man with whom he is fascinated. Also like Bellow's novel, this book is brief, intense, and beautifully written. Ravelstein was Bellow's last novel, I believe, and I Look Divine was Coe's first...even so, the writing is breathtakingly confident. I really enjoyed reading it.
September 17, 2019
Christopher Coe's (1987) novel I Look Divine provides fleeting insight into the life of two brothers: Nicholas, a proclaimed narcissist of the highest degree, and the unnamed brother, a whimsical, perhaps audacious and incredulous, onlooker on the sudden life and death of lyrical beauty. A retrospective narrative, the brother reflects upon Nicholas's orientation toward the mirrored-edges that surround the Wildean portrait of his life. The novel ventures no further than Nicholas's apartment, though transports the reader through time and space, across the Western world, into the geographical possession and dreams of the cultural elite: that is, Rome, New York, Mexico City. It crescendos, as professor David Leavitt suggests, in the ultimate death of self-seduction. The excess of beauty (Nicholas as symbol) is overcome by its intimate ties with youth. Though we see indirectly the purpose and actualisation of his demise, we know too familiarly the demise of Dorian Gray, from which the book springs, and thus beg nothing of the author for post-mortem clarity.
Unlike the pensive, oft repetitive and lugubrious passages in his later novel Such Times, Coe's I Look Divine speedily ushers the reader through the passage of physical beauty so fundamental to gay-male life in the 1970s. Arguably, this portrait remains foundational to the coherence of gay-beauty standards today, which have tip-toed not an inch further from the mirrors that surround our desire to remain youthful even when threatened with the cultural construction of "gay death". Interestingly, David Leavitt alludes to the presence and prevalence of HIV/AIDS floating in the novel's margins. This at once periodises the novel whilst making it all the more timely for men who, remaining bound to the logics of biomedical realism (i.e. ARVs, PrEP), who seek cultural validation through sex and sexual desire. Far from the present as it may appear, I Look Divine reminds its readers of the lasting legacies of gayness, the intimate affairs and aspirations of capitalism bound up in physical attraction, and the image cultures we engender through the reification of youthful beauty above and beyond the narratives of sexual and romantic excess.
Unlike the pensive, oft repetitive and lugubrious passages in his later novel Such Times, Coe's I Look Divine speedily ushers the reader through the passage of physical beauty so fundamental to gay-male life in the 1970s. Arguably, this portrait remains foundational to the coherence of gay-beauty standards today, which have tip-toed not an inch further from the mirrors that surround our desire to remain youthful even when threatened with the cultural construction of "gay death". Interestingly, David Leavitt alludes to the presence and prevalence of HIV/AIDS floating in the novel's margins. This at once periodises the novel whilst making it all the more timely for men who, remaining bound to the logics of biomedical realism (i.e. ARVs, PrEP), who seek cultural validation through sex and sexual desire. Far from the present as it may appear, I Look Divine reminds its readers of the lasting legacies of gayness, the intimate affairs and aspirations of capitalism bound up in physical attraction, and the image cultures we engender through the reification of youthful beauty above and beyond the narratives of sexual and romantic excess.
March 20, 2020
Excellent of its kind, Christopher Coe's I Look Divine is one brother's remembrance of another. Coe, who died of AIDS in 1994, writes at times like Hemingway, I thought, though it's an odd comparison. I doubt the two would've gotten along well. It was the way Coe captured what it's like to be at a cafe in a foreign country at a certain time of your life at a certain period of history that made me think this.
I Look Divine's 109 pages go fast. It took me a few days to read it only because at the time I did—the middle of March of 2020—there was a lot going on in the world that distracted me.
I Look Divine's 109 pages go fast. It took me a few days to read it only because at the time I did—the middle of March of 2020—there was a lot going on in the world that distracted me.
"Seventeen years ago I sprang to life in this hotel," I remember hearing my brother tell a man from San Francisco, in the bar in the garden of the Hassler hotel, a few nights after he took the swim in the Tiber, in 1996.
We spent an amount of time in hotel bars. Nicholas was partial to hotel bars. I was, too. I cannot say that now and then I did not share his taste.
The man from San Francisco was with a woman, but Nicholas did not address himself to her. Nicholas seldom addressed himself to women. He tended to avoid conversations that did not hold at least a possibility of conquest. For Nicholas, when he traveled with me, conquest was mostly an unmessy affair, flirtation returned, although his flirtations themselves could get somewhat lubricious. For flirtations, they could get a little gamy.
September 2, 2024
(edited for clarity of expression September 2024).
This is a perfect book and the only greater pleasure I can recommend for anyone who has enjoyed, no, who has loved this book, is to read the story by Christopher Coe 'Anything you Want' in which the boy, surely has to be Nicholas at a younger age - but honestly more frightening then his grown up self. I hate to say that it is hard to imagine a character like Nicholas, because that makes it sound like the character or the book is dated, or of its time, well of course it is of its time, so is the Portrait of Dorian Gray. But comparisons to The Portrait of Dorian Gray is misleading - with all respect to the great Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wilde, Coe is a much better novelist and 'I look Divine' is a far better novel.
I Look Divine may never have the weight of metaphorical and philosophical meanings that other novels have ascribed to them, it may not attract the kneejerk approval of those who, though never having it feel confident in pronouncing its importance to them and the universe. But I Look Divine will still be a great, perfect and more beautiful novel. Coe's book is timeless, eternal and reading these 109 pages will tell you more about the fragility of art, how easily real talent is lost - AIDS, COVID, oppression, prisons, bombs, disinterest, a failure to be heard. How can our culture devote time and attention to pointless ramblings of minor royals when there are works like this to read?
This is a perfect book and the only greater pleasure I can recommend for anyone who has enjoyed, no, who has loved this book, is to read the story by Christopher Coe 'Anything you Want' in which the boy, surely has to be Nicholas at a younger age - but honestly more frightening then his grown up self. I hate to say that it is hard to imagine a character like Nicholas, because that makes it sound like the character or the book is dated, or of its time, well of course it is of its time, so is the Portrait of Dorian Gray. But comparisons to The Portrait of Dorian Gray is misleading - with all respect to the great Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wilde, Coe is a much better novelist and 'I look Divine' is a far better novel.
I Look Divine may never have the weight of metaphorical and philosophical meanings that other novels have ascribed to them, it may not attract the kneejerk approval of those who, though never having it feel confident in pronouncing its importance to them and the universe. But I Look Divine will still be a great, perfect and more beautiful novel. Coe's book is timeless, eternal and reading these 109 pages will tell you more about the fragility of art, how easily real talent is lost - AIDS, COVID, oppression, prisons, bombs, disinterest, a failure to be heard. How can our culture devote time and attention to pointless ramblings of minor royals when there are works like this to read?
December 22, 2016
I Look Divine is Christopher Coe’s first novel and is written in a terrifying and seductive prose. It is about a man who recalls his adventures together with his brother, Nicholas. Nicholas is a vain, clever, poetic, wealthy and extravagant who poses and flirts in the stylish bars throughout the world. His brother the narrator becomes his witness and victim enchanted and repelled by Nicholas’ antics. There is nothing shocking and terrifying that happen in the novel but the author’s narratives makes my eye bulge and my hands tremble with fear for how he narrates the story. How he makes the image of Nicholas to his readers to be original and scary in some way.
I Look Divine is a 109-page novel that I’ve read in no time. However, I really can’t shake-off Nicholas out of my mind and with the knowledge that the author of this great novel is dead, makes it harder for me to forget the novel. Not that I associated Mr. Christopher with Nicholas but I regret his passing that I am sure we will continue to receive more masterpieces if he was still alive.
Opening Sentence: My brother would not smile for a photograph.
Ending Sentence: I do not know if Nicholas remembered what he read to me in laughter, or if he knew, through all the years that he could see himself posed against it, framed in mirrors in this room, that the wall of skulls behind him was where the winners’ heads were laid.
I Look Divine is a 109-page novel that I’ve read in no time. However, I really can’t shake-off Nicholas out of my mind and with the knowledge that the author of this great novel is dead, makes it harder for me to forget the novel. Not that I associated Mr. Christopher with Nicholas but I regret his passing that I am sure we will continue to receive more masterpieces if he was still alive.
Opening Sentence: My brother would not smile for a photograph.
Ending Sentence: I do not know if Nicholas remembered what he read to me in laughter, or if he knew, through all the years that he could see himself posed against it, framed in mirrors in this room, that the wall of skulls behind him was where the winners’ heads were laid.
March 12, 2020
This is one of the best books I've ever read. Especially in regards to the Lish edited material. The torquing and swerving in this are exquisite, and in general, this book moved me very deeply. I know the brother, Nicholas, is a bit of self-centered asshole, but I was thoroughly entranced by him and the protagonist from the very first sentence. Both of these characters are rendered so compellingly that I have gone on a Christopher Coe hunt. Besides his other novel, I've had difficulty finding his published short stories. If any happens to have these or know where I could find them, please let me know.
RIP Christopher Coe. You are and were a beautiful writer.
RIP Christopher Coe. You are and were a beautiful writer.
January 21, 2016
A short yet near masterful and timeless character study of a beautiful and clever creature--Nicholas--destined and doomed from birth to soar near heaven for as long as good looks and witty banter and divine confidence can carry him. Told from his brother's perspective, the story also captures the intense and unspoken relationship between such a force and those travelling within close orbit. Coe deftly uses an economy of language to vividly paint the pain and pleasure which comes from striding through the world without a care. As Nicholas remarks, "Honey, it's only life."
December 2, 2018
Pure. Concise. Gay literature that does not translate itself for a heterosexual audience. The depiction of the sibling relationship is moving and charming and the main characters use of language is humorous and endearing.
February 9, 2019
I see the Lish thing going on here, which usually lands in my wheelhouse, but this instance, not really my cup of tea. Not an afternoon wasted, but one, unmemorable.
January 26, 2023
I really wanted to like this but it was so boring, omg. The synopsis made it sound v-lavish, v-fancy, v-full of life, but Nicholas is so unappealing and tiresome. Huge yawn, the cover art is so cute tho.
August 8, 2015
At our local library there are "quick choice" shelves, not just once happened for me to find little gems there. This is just one of them, a slim and fast to read novel yet your gears are constantly moving throughout all the 100 and a bit of pages.
We are presented with the "portrait" of Nicholas sketched by his brother. The flow of memories that contour Nicholas for us is rooted in grief and kept going by a picture, a life size picture of Nicholas in a Japanese robe in front of a wall of skulls found in Chichén Itzá. Is the picture staged to reflect Nicholas's own life? Was it just a coincidence to laugh upon or was it a life goal?
"it was the winner of the match, that it was not the loser, who gave up his life in sacrifice, and that men trained hard to win the honor.
[....]
I do not know if Nicholas remembered what he read to me in laughter, or if he knew, through all the years that he could see himself posed against it, framed in mirrors in this room, that the wall of skulls behind him was where the winners' heads were laid."
While Nicholas comes across as a vain person, very much concerned with his looks and always wanting attention, he is silently humanized: is capable of empathy (the dog incident, the whispering to babies and animals), he definitely cares about his brother, in a slightly distorted kind of way he even limits the gifts he receives from his lovers(I wouldn't accept something that I couldn't buy myself). In my view the interesting aspect is that we see this portrait from his brother point of view. A view distorted by jealousy; the negative aspects being enhanced by it or maybe just imagined, misinterpreted: "when Nicholas came, he was their miracle"; "Mine apparently was not"; "but that her younger son, the little one, was more brilliant"; he mention how Nicholas had beautiful hands, his hair had volume, he was a good looking child/man while there was a weak resemblance between them etc. I believe he was probably slightly obsessed with Nicholas, just like his face was reflected everywhere by the mirrors and the lacquer! And while Nicholas might have been indeed a vain, hollow person, his brother wants us to hate him, hate him with a vengeance just as he did.
We are presented with the "portrait" of Nicholas sketched by his brother. The flow of memories that contour Nicholas for us is rooted in grief and kept going by a picture, a life size picture of Nicholas in a Japanese robe in front of a wall of skulls found in Chichén Itzá. Is the picture staged to reflect Nicholas's own life? Was it just a coincidence to laugh upon or was it a life goal?
"it was the winner of the match, that it was not the loser, who gave up his life in sacrifice, and that men trained hard to win the honor.
[....]
I do not know if Nicholas remembered what he read to me in laughter, or if he knew, through all the years that he could see himself posed against it, framed in mirrors in this room, that the wall of skulls behind him was where the winners' heads were laid."
While Nicholas comes across as a vain person, very much concerned with his looks and always wanting attention, he is silently humanized: is capable of empathy (the dog incident, the whispering to babies and animals), he definitely cares about his brother, in a slightly distorted kind of way he even limits the gifts he receives from his lovers(I wouldn't accept something that I couldn't buy myself). In my view the interesting aspect is that we see this portrait from his brother point of view. A view distorted by jealousy; the negative aspects being enhanced by it or maybe just imagined, misinterpreted: "when Nicholas came, he was their miracle"; "Mine apparently was not"; "but that her younger son, the little one, was more brilliant"; he mention how Nicholas had beautiful hands, his hair had volume, he was a good looking child/man while there was a weak resemblance between them etc. I believe he was probably slightly obsessed with Nicholas, just like his face was reflected everywhere by the mirrors and the lacquer! And while Nicholas might have been indeed a vain, hollow person, his brother wants us to hate him, hate him with a vengeance just as he did.
January 16, 2014
A desultory life...except for mirror images
David Leavitt, a brilliant author himself, wrote the Introduction to this wondrously touching little book by Christopher Coe, and in many ways his introductory remarks are equal to the novel. Leavitt probes the life and influence and style of Coe and manages to relate moments from this brief at times rambling, almost disconnected story bringing clarity to the reader about to embark on the too brief journey of I LOOK DIVINE.
A word about Christopher Coe: born in Pennsylvania in 1953 and raised in Portland, Oregon, Coe was a nascent American novelist who spent his adult years in New York City and Paris, making his living as a cabaret singer, a photographer and an author. I LOOK DIVINE, his first novel, was published in 1987 and his second novel SUCH TIMES in 1993 was `a paean to life written in the valley of the shadow of death'. Coe died of AIDS in 1994 at his home in Manhattan.
The spare but eloquent prose of Coe's book is related by the older brother of Nicholas, a self-absorbed, narcissistic young man who feels he has been exceptional from the moment of his birth - Caesarean section with enough consequences to always dramatize the beginnings of a life of self indulgent narcissism. In so many ways it is the universal story of seeking to be noticed, worshiped, adored and desired by other men. The book starts at its end with the brother picking up the remaining fragments of his now dead younger Nicholas, who as with all but Dorian Gray gradually passed into the realm of aging.
The magic of the book lies partly in its origin - the work of an artist who died far too young in a time when death gathered beautiful young men under the dark cape of the plague. The reader is left with the longing that this author could have written more. As Leavitt states in his Introduction, `I LOOK DIVNE is a novel of self-evident authenticity, through the radiant surface of which a dark core of suffering burns.' It is good to have this new version published again, courtesy Bruno Gmünder.
Grady Harp
David Leavitt, a brilliant author himself, wrote the Introduction to this wondrously touching little book by Christopher Coe, and in many ways his introductory remarks are equal to the novel. Leavitt probes the life and influence and style of Coe and manages to relate moments from this brief at times rambling, almost disconnected story bringing clarity to the reader about to embark on the too brief journey of I LOOK DIVINE.
A word about Christopher Coe: born in Pennsylvania in 1953 and raised in Portland, Oregon, Coe was a nascent American novelist who spent his adult years in New York City and Paris, making his living as a cabaret singer, a photographer and an author. I LOOK DIVINE, his first novel, was published in 1987 and his second novel SUCH TIMES in 1993 was `a paean to life written in the valley of the shadow of death'. Coe died of AIDS in 1994 at his home in Manhattan.
The spare but eloquent prose of Coe's book is related by the older brother of Nicholas, a self-absorbed, narcissistic young man who feels he has been exceptional from the moment of his birth - Caesarean section with enough consequences to always dramatize the beginnings of a life of self indulgent narcissism. In so many ways it is the universal story of seeking to be noticed, worshiped, adored and desired by other men. The book starts at its end with the brother picking up the remaining fragments of his now dead younger Nicholas, who as with all but Dorian Gray gradually passed into the realm of aging.
The magic of the book lies partly in its origin - the work of an artist who died far too young in a time when death gathered beautiful young men under the dark cape of the plague. The reader is left with the longing that this author could have written more. As Leavitt states in his Introduction, `I LOOK DIVNE is a novel of self-evident authenticity, through the radiant surface of which a dark core of suffering burns.' It is good to have this new version published again, courtesy Bruno Gmünder.
Grady Harp
March 28, 2012
It takes a lot of skill to write a book with an unlikeable character that people still want to read. Austen did it with Emma and Bret Easton Ellis’ American Psycho also comes to mind. Nicholas who won’t be in photos and controls/manipulates all aspects of his image compulsively is not quite in the same league. This combined with a very tired ‘brother with the flashback’ structure make for a trying, if brief read.
This book contains way too much pointless jet setting and foreign culture references. Asia was quite in vogue in the 80s and one can’t help but cringe at how basic and shallow these references now seem. Jay Mcinerney’s Ransom is guilty of a similar indulgence but his wit and genuine passion for the culture redeems when read in context. Can’t say the same for Coe who drops way too kimono and netsuke references but also uses the unflattering terms ‘chink’ and Jap 6 and 4 times respectively on just one page (not just by the vain annoying brother either).
Where this book earns its two stars is in its reflections on the queer lifestyle. The side of Nicholas that I found interesting is how his life as a picture of beauty and constantly kept man gradually reversed with age until he finds himself paying for sex. The casual nitrate references and playful queer banter rang a lot truer than another Vintage Contemporary book I read: Dancing in the Dark although I liked that one more for its ambition and retro 80s feel. Coe’s physical descriptions of Nicholas somewhat remind me of Orlando Bloom as Legolas which is another interesting point you might like to reflect on before picking this up. It’s a shame he wasn’t able to make a more potent literary statement before his passing from Aids a few years after writing this.
This book contains way too much pointless jet setting and foreign culture references. Asia was quite in vogue in the 80s and one can’t help but cringe at how basic and shallow these references now seem. Jay Mcinerney’s Ransom is guilty of a similar indulgence but his wit and genuine passion for the culture redeems when read in context. Can’t say the same for Coe who drops way too kimono and netsuke references but also uses the unflattering terms ‘chink’ and Jap 6 and 4 times respectively on just one page (not just by the vain annoying brother either).
Where this book earns its two stars is in its reflections on the queer lifestyle. The side of Nicholas that I found interesting is how his life as a picture of beauty and constantly kept man gradually reversed with age until he finds himself paying for sex. The casual nitrate references and playful queer banter rang a lot truer than another Vintage Contemporary book I read: Dancing in the Dark although I liked that one more for its ambition and retro 80s feel. Coe’s physical descriptions of Nicholas somewhat remind me of Orlando Bloom as Legolas which is another interesting point you might like to reflect on before picking this up. It’s a shame he wasn’t able to make a more potent literary statement before his passing from Aids a few years after writing this.
January 12, 2018
Divine Dashing Nick holds his brother in sway
Brother – Narrator – adoring;
The reader can only get out of the way
As Nich’las fails to tickle us
He’s gorgeous! He’s rich! He’s so boring.
Read searching for wit
But alas, lazy lit.
Brother – Narrator – adoring;
The reader can only get out of the way
As Nich’las fails to tickle us
He’s gorgeous! He’s rich! He’s so boring.
Read searching for wit
But alas, lazy lit.
June 18, 2019
For Pride month I decided to read a little, slim, unknown novel (at least I have never heard of it) and I was very impressed. It was called I LOOK DIVINE by Christopher Coe. Written in 1987. It's a first-person narrator telling the story of his younger brother, Nicholas' life, as he's trying to clean up his deceased brother's apartment that's filled with lavish things and glamour photos of himself and mirrors everywhere and booze and gifts from many many men throughout his life. The brother recounts the times when Nicholas was young and had always been vain, self-absorbed, etc. This kind of way of life (of being too pretty even for one's own self) soon turns from funny to kind of sad and sickening as the narrator tells of his brother growing older as his looks start to fade and he ends up resorting to sad and pathetic means to keep whatever vanity and youth he always thought he would possess till the end of his life. Travels around the world and people the brother's meet are a huge part of this novel. It's not so much a novel with a plot as it is a great character study of an older brother looking back over his younger brother's way of life. Nicolas' approach to a very meaningless existence of life (because it is all based on physical appearance). I found it to be a very strong read, but very quick and accessible, too. Coming in at 109 pages, this little novel was Christopher Coe's first novel. He would only go on to write one more before his untimely death from AIDS-related ailments. It's funny how the gay community prides itself on looks so much. This novel surely addresses that issue and the backlash of placing so much importance on mere looks. In the novel, the brother Nicolas says that it's inner beauty that really counts, but outer beauty that really shows. All too true I believe in the community and I just thought this was a very interesting little novel that addresses an issue that so much of the community wishes not to address as a negative, but clearly is. So as Pride comes up, this novel, by Christopher Coe, who had something important to say and might be forgotten today, was to me the perfect book to read this month: a novel about the negatives of having so much pride in your vanity. I think this novel has been forgotten because it hits a truth that doesn't wish to be acknowledged, but it is real none-the-less and it was beautiful and honest to read. A modern Dorian Gray.
December 28, 2022
Another obscure treasure from the 25c friends-of-the-library sale. It looked unread which may be unsurprising given the themes explored (homosexuality, identity, possibly incestuous feelings between siblings?) and my current Midwest location.
This novella fell more towards the "interesting" and "captivating" (pun intended - a wink to the novel) end of the spectrum than the "pleasant". The narrator is nameless and we know very little about him and his life, his identity or his sexuality. No, it's all about his bigger-than-life younger brother Nicholas who is a mega narcissist and recently deceased.
If you've ever known someone similar to Nicholas, you'll know how difficult it is for them to cope with rejection and ageing, which often go hand in hand. Nicholas struggles and comes up with his own "solutions" but one is left wondering if he lived the life he wanted to lead. His choices towards the end of his life seemed in stark contrast to his 20s.
There are great quotes here and there and it was impressively well written for a debut novel.
This novella fell more towards the "interesting" and "captivating" (pun intended - a wink to the novel) end of the spectrum than the "pleasant". The narrator is nameless and we know very little about him and his life, his identity or his sexuality. No, it's all about his bigger-than-life younger brother Nicholas who is a mega narcissist and recently deceased.
If you've ever known someone similar to Nicholas, you'll know how difficult it is for them to cope with rejection and ageing, which often go hand in hand. Nicholas struggles and comes up with his own "solutions" but one is left wondering if he lived the life he wanted to lead. His choices towards the end of his life seemed in stark contrast to his 20s.
There are great quotes here and there and it was impressively well written for a debut novel.
February 11, 2018
I never realized that this book would be "lost" so soon. Nor did I know that it is supposed to be homoerotic novel while reading. I Look Divine by Christopher Coe is so much more than to be boxed in by categories. A hidden gem of a book that is well worth the trouble of finding a used copy. A great tale of one man's obsession with himself through his loving brother's eyes.
Edit : I think the book has come back into print since my original review. Lucky for everyone.
Edit : I think the book has come back into print since my original review. Lucky for everyone.
October 14, 2021
Obsessed with Nicholas he is all I want to be in life. I especially liked the bit at the start when the narrator describes their childhood together - it was so insidious but also super funny?? I also liked the resolution and the sadness at the end that Nicholas is not really himself, he copies those around him and the sadness he feels from aging and losing his beauty which he found to be his identity. I also liked that is was short like yass get to the point. anyway, a worthwhile read.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
December 18, 2022
There was a time when the very sight of the Vintage Contemporaries logo would make me swoon. And when the use of million-dollar vocabulary words would have made me ashamed to not know them. That time has passed for me, but I think I would have adored this book when it came out. At this stage I found it interesting and wonder if it is a seminal book in the gay community. If not perhaps it should be. Living Colour’s “Glamour Boys” in novel form.
September 6, 2025
Nicholas, the narrator's brother, is unforgettable! As is the author's description of a gay disco in Rome:
"The one wall not covered by mirrors was covered instead by a mural of opulently muscled, overgendered men, half or more undressed. The illustrator must have tried to capture how men might look if they could issue directly from each other in a womanless world, and in the mural the lewdly virile specimens, cartoon ideals, regarded each other with untender admiration."
"The one wall not covered by mirrors was covered instead by a mural of opulently muscled, overgendered men, half or more undressed. The illustrator must have tried to capture how men might look if they could issue directly from each other in a womanless world, and in the mural the lewdly virile specimens, cartoon ideals, regarded each other with untender admiration."
September 3, 2023
Very interesting book as a reflection on youth and beauty. Clean and striking prose, not much plot, but it certainly captivates with the almost alien character of Nicholas. Not exactly an uplifiting read but worthy of exploring for sure, accomplishes quite a bit in just over a hundred pages.
May 16, 2025
Frustrating and catty and in spite of that, ultimately compelling.
Reflections of reflections. Deceptively straightforward story on beauty, and self, and what aging means to queerness. It takes an incredibly strong writer to be this evocative and aware of the senses with such brevity.
Reflections of reflections. Deceptively straightforward story on beauty, and self, and what aging means to queerness. It takes an incredibly strong writer to be this evocative and aware of the senses with such brevity.
November 8, 2017
Well written but a sad story of selfishness
February 26, 2018
If there's a more beautiful, wry, understated book about narcissism and sibling love, I don't know it.
June 14, 2020
the picture of dorian gay
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