Between the conservative dystopia and the apocalypse with its rising waters there is still a zone of possibility where men trade in their cell phones for smiles and conversation.
When Cuban fisherman first spotted the Key West lighthouse floating in Florida waters, they called her Stella Maris, Star of the Sea. It’s a beacon that draws people from everywhere seeking the end-of-the-line bohemian oasis that can still be found amidst the condo share towers, chain stores, and Redneck Riviera clientele. And it’s a mecca for gay men and the women who love them. Sue Kaufman Prize- winning author Michael Carroll knows the territory intimately. His stories wind in and out of the bars and guesthouses and lives of this singular paradise: a memorial for a drag queen held at the vicar’s Victorian leads to uneasy encounters; two southern sisters on a cruise ship holiday are up against the ravages of alcohol, estrangement, and deadly weather. Newly divorced gay men (already a phenomenon) lick their wounds and bask in the island’s lasting social twilight. At the all-male, clothing-optional resort, guys of all ages fall into one another’s paths, enjoy themselves as they please, and surprise one another on their views and preconceptions. Stella Maris is about the verities of illness and death. The past and its prisoners, AIDS, the young and not so young man’s realization of his own mortality. It’s about the unpredictable nature of life, and of survival. It’s about new beginnings and final recognitions.
(corrections to spelling and grammar - July 2024).
Before anything else I find it amazing that in the first quarter of the 21st century the fact that there is sex in a literary work is a cause for comments other then whether it is described or dealt with well or badly. There has been descriptions of sex in literary novels since the immediate post WWII years, admittedly mostly, but not exclusively, heterosexual and certainly from the late 50's through the 60's and onto the great explosion of 'gay' literature from the 1970's onwards there has been no lack of good, bad or indifferent gay sex in novels. That it is still commented upon is not only bewildering but annoying.
Moving on, this is a fine selection of short stories by an author whose work I had long wanted to read 'in bulk' so to speak. I enjoyed the collection but have reservations, most particularly in the author's often over elaborate and confusing use of narrative voice. I have no problem with multiple or shifting narrative voices, but there were times in these stories I had to go back and try and track down which of the many narrative voices were being used and, at times, it appeared there was also an omniscient narrator or at least an unidentified narrator or observer adding insights and commentary. My failure to grasp or understand the author's stylistic methods may be a further example of the barriers erected between the aged and the not so aged - Michael Carroll is not exactly in youths first bloom.
The other matter is the interconnectedness, or not, of the stories. The same places in and around Key West along with characters, or certainly names, reoccur sufficiently often to leave one wondering have you missed something by not keeping track of the various events, places and characters more assiduously. Interlinked stories are best, in my experience, when they stand by themselves but occasionally refer to a character, situation, place or event in a previous story sufficiently for it to be recognised but not to inspire narrative confusion.
The stories also leave one confused about what is fictionalised observation of reality and what is fictionalised recounting of the author's own marital experience. I am not going to specify particular stories, if you know that the author is married to the writer Edmund White, and know anything about Mr. White, then it will be obvious which stories I am referring to. The chance that what I was reading was not simply the authorial use of experience to create fiction but the use of fiction to exorcise the author's own fears or problems within his marriage was distinctly uncomfortable.
Finally the stories in this novel are all set immediately after the defeat of Hillary Clinton and the election of Donald Trump and the various characters make continuous curmudgeonly complaints about this event. Hindsight may tell us that Trump was an awful president but the reactions of Carroll's characters reveals not the anger of a political engages but the smug condescension of the privileged and out of touch who have just seen peasants with the temerity to shit on their lawns. Rather than prefiguring the Trump presidency the complaints make clear why Hillary Clinton's loss was such a surprise to both her and her supporters. Also now that Trump has left office and is preparing to run again the whole thread is becoming obscure and outdated. Specificity is almost always the kiss of death in literature.
All the same Michael Carroll is a good writer, one worth reading and I hope we will see more work from, better work, that can break away from what could clearly degenerate into nothing more then journalistic 'state of times' colour pieces.
[Gays bustle about Key West, biking, ruing their Trump-voting Moms, and noshing on cheeks.]
A bit prolix. Reads like a bunch of starts and stops at writing the same novel. Not only are themes shared between stories, but major plot points and character types.
For an encapsulation of the collection, Primal Recognition is towards the front and not over-long. My personal selection is the Book About Perry, which is the most focused. It almost sticks with the same POV all the way through!
Loved these stories. I have a flair for Joy Williams so if you like her stuff you will love Michael's. I think the strongest stories are 'Funeral', the title story, and the opening story. I also think Michael writes best when he writes about the deviant and taboo, which there is plenty of. Someone else might say the sex is too explicit, but I think it is written about tastefully. If you like literary fiction with queer themes check this out! Thanks Michael for writing a beautiful book.
Key West is one of those magical, mysterious places - like Maui, Palm Springs, New Orleans or Vegas - that one has to visit to truly appreciate. Considering its exotic locale, the preponderance of artists in residence, and a culture that embraces decadence, I wonder why it isn't a more commonplace setting for films and television.
Prize-winning author Michael Carroll has crafted "Stella Maris: And Other Key West Stories," an alluring, unapologetically audacious collection of anecdotes, episodes and novellas that profile the thoughts and actions of individuals from every socioeconomic status, political affiliation, age group, and sexual orientation. Carroll calls just enough attention to each of these characters before they quickly disappear, leaving their fate and purpose to the reader's imagination.
All eight stories read like diary entries, dripping with tawdry innuendo, catty commentary, and lurid, painstaking detail. The first few entries are inexplicably brief, and reach their conclusion seemingly mid-sentence, yet arouse enough interest to at least give the reader pause and spark enough curiosity to continue reading.
A man of certain age, recently divorced, takes in the sights at a gay guest house during a cruise excursion, in "Sugar and Gold." Rick, the surviving half of a couple, remembers his late longtime partner, Gene, in "Primal Recognition," and a voyeuristic travel writer reflects upon life and love in "The Leisure Classless."
The proceeding stories increase in length and intensity, aforementioned characters reappear (as well as resounding themes, like the 2016 election and hurricanes Irma, Stella, and Wilma), and the author paints a more thorough, substantive picture of the narrators and respective subjects.
The complex, titular entry is narrated by the widowed Dale, grieving his marriage of convenience to Karen while vacationing at an all-male, clothing-optional establishment. (Anyone who has visited Key West will recognize the renowned, renamed "Fantasy House.") Sisters Dee and Jenny spend their last holiday aboard a cruise ship in "The Other Way Out," and Dee's gay son, Randy, has more than his share of relationship struggles.
A community reminiscent of Armistead Maupin's "Tales of the City" mourns a deceased drag queen in the delectable "Key West Funeral," and the equally delightful "Every Night, a Splendor" is a veritable soap opera featuring characters young and old, gay and straight.
The collection closes with the enlightening "The Book About Perry," a moving examination of an acclaimed novelist's husband and his attempt to write a memoir about their marriage.
Those familiar with Key West will especially appreciate the author's keen, spot-on observations, and strangers to the area will likely have discovered their next vacation destination. This is a colorful, candid collection of stories that amuses, provokes thought and takes its readers on an emotional journey.
Interesting characters and good stories. But the writing style is a little too fussy and distracting. Always going for an obscure "aren't-I-smart" adjective, when a simple, straight-forward one would do. Sentence structure was convoluted in places. Again, the sense you get from the book is that the author wants you to pay more attention to his writing style than to the stories themselves.
I have been in a two month reading rut and managed to dig myself out yet again by focusing on the short story.
Stella Maris refers to the old Cuban name for Key West, as described by Cuban fishermen when they spotted her light house, and this collection of short stories reads as a love story to Key West, usually from the perspective of aging Queer men, usually writerly and literary ones at that. One would think that this is a very specific demographic (it is), but it is also one which I enjoyed inhabiting, and one whose perspective was apropos especially for this moment. The undercurrent of rage and bafflement and despair - at their own aging bodies, at the current political environment (very explicitly discussed and very explicitly played out in the grounds of Florida), at their own internalized psyches, at the allure and disgust toward sex, at the many permutations of love and lust and relationships and loyalty, at what it means to live a fulfilled and meaningful life, especially in the context of art - the result was something that was deeply touching and elegiac.
I have never much connected with Key West, despite having visited a few times. It has always seed a little too kitsch and a little too brash for me. This helped me see more of its beauty.
I actually did not finish this book. Not because the writing wasn't good or the topic interesting, but I felt like I was getting snatches of thought as if flying past me on the Key West breeze. it seemed, to me, jerky and stream of consciousness, jumping back and forth and around and there was also a great deal of underlying pain seeping through. I usually finish a book come hell or high water, but my head felt muddied after each story.
STELLA MARIS, Michael Carroll's follow-up to his debut short story collection, LITTLE REEF, offers more tales set in the sex-drenched city of Key West, Fla. One story narrator sums up the city's appeal: "The town is full of strangers with their stories, all horny mostly. Key West is sexy-ish." Among the characters are aging gay men dealing with illness; young gay tourists bored with their surroundings and their choices for sexual partners; and the eternal war between waning and raging libidos.
Many of the same characters appear in several of Stella Maris's eight stories, creating a strong tapestry and community. One such character is Perry Knight, an esteemed gay writer with a rapidly dying readership. "His first crop of readers had died of AIDS a while ago," writes Scott, his younger husband. "Now old age was hacking away with scythe precision at their survivors, but only those who still read." Scott is trying to finish a memoir about their life together but fears revealing too much. In the story "Key West Funeral," numerous people attend the funeral of a former Marine and beloved drag queen and compare conflicting notes on the man they knew. In "Stella Maris, Star of the Sea," a man who has recently lost his wife starts to make tentative moves toward accepting his homosexuality and carnal drives.
Carroll's spare but evocative prose cast a haunting spell. Although death and dying is the uniting factor in all of these tales, there's still humor, passion and desire simmering below.
Carroll's second short story collection offers interconnected tales full of lust, longing and death.