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My Policeman: Storia di un amore impossibile
Marion e Patrick: così simili nella loro presunzione romantica di ottenere ciò che desiderano. Per entrambi, l'oggetto del desiderio si chiama Tom Burgess, un giovane uomo dal fascino irresistibile e imperscrutabile. Tom è il fratello maggiore della migliore amica di Marion. Si conoscono da adolescenti e per lei è amore a prima vista. Di lì a poco, Tom parte per il servizio militare e poi per l'accademia di polizia, ma Marion è decisa ad aspettarlo, a conquistarlo, sperando in una proposta di matrimonio. Quando finalmente arriva, lei è al settimo cielo, incurante dei segnali che dovrebbero metterla in guardia. Convinta che il suo amore basterà per entrambi. Ignara che Tom ha un'altra vita. Patrick è un artista e lavora come curatore al museo di Brighton. Anche per lui Tom è stato un colpo di fulmine, una folle beatitudine per cui sarebbe disposto a rischiare tutto. Ma nell'Inghilterra di fine anni Cinquanta, in cui l'omosessualità è condannata dalla società e dalla legge, il matrimonio resta per Tom un nascondiglio sicuro. E così, Marion e Patrick dovranno dividersi l'amore di Tom, fino a quando uno di loro non resisterà più. E le loro tre vite saranno spezzate.
353 pages, Kindle Edition
First published February 2, 2012
About the author
Bethan Roberts
13 books370 followersBethan Roberts was born in Abingdon. Her first novel 'The Pools' was published in 2007 and won a Jerwood/Arvon Young Writers’ Award. Her second novel 'The Good Plain Cook', published in 2008, was serialized on BBC Radio 4’s Book at Bedtime and was chosen as one of Time Out’s books of the year. 'My Policeman' was published by Chatto and Windus in February 2012 and was selected as that year's City Read for Brighton. Her latest novel, 'Mother Island', is longlisted for the Jerwood Fiction Uncovered Prize. She also writes short stories (in 2006 she was awarded the Olive Cook short story prize by the Society of Authors) and drama for BBC Radio 4. Bethan has worked as a television documentary researcher, writer and assistant producer, and has taught Creative Writing at Chichester University and Goldsmiths College, London. She lives in Brighton with her family.
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August 17, 2016Review contains spoilers. Because I am the worst type of person.
Omg, why I did read this? No, seriously why? I guess I wanted to read something queer that wasn’t explicitly m/m ... except I forgot a certain tendency (and this is an issue I have that is detached from the identity of the writer) in litfic about teh gays (see also A Little Life) around that there's a massive (I would argue, mostly straight) market for stories WHERE THEY MAKE US AS MISERABLE AS POSSIBLE. And while I have some patience for marginalised people writing tragedy for themselves for the sake of having a voice and finding catharsis, I have exactly none for non-marginalised people (or people marginalised along different axes) diddling themselves gleefully over the fact that marginalised people have shitty lives.
Anyway, what’s especially annoying about this book is that, in many ways, it is quite good. Except for the fact it’s awful. It’s set in 1950s Brighton, and evokes the period and the place really well. The writing is engaging and, at times, deeply compassionate, especially some of the sequences from Patrick’s diary. The story is, as I have indicated, queer-tragedy-by-numbers. The ‘my policeman’ of the title is Tom ... a policeman, who falls in love with a gay museum curator, but still marries a womanz (who is also in love with him).
There’s this slightly awkward framing device in which part of the book is written from the perspective of Marion, late in their lives, scribbling a confession to her husband about the events that took place earlier in their marriage. And the gaps are filled in by Patrick’s diary, written at the time, and later used as evidence in his trial for acts of gross indecency. Tom has no voice of his own at all, existing only in the eyes of his two lovers, which is both fitting and annoying. Fitting because his silence is kind of A THEME and annoying because it means, as a reader, there’s no way to access what these two people find so worth ruining their lives over in him.
I mean, probably that’s point. You can’t precisely point at what in a person creates love and maintains it—love is always alien from the outside (oh, y’see, ANOTHER THEME). But, hey, I’m a romance reader. At least have a go. And, more defensibly, I’m not a big fan of devices-for-the-sake-of-devices. Thematic/appropriate is not enough if it’s also emotionally disengaging. So say I, anyway.
There’s also this epic gap between the events and the frame. The frame being the future where Tom and Marion have been married for forty years, and presumably miserable, and Patrick has apparently had some kind of stroke, and Marion has insisted that she and Tom become his carer (for he has NOBODY because the gays, oh the gays, the lonely lives we lead) even though Tom won’t speak to him because of TEH TRAGEDEE and Marion was the woman who literally brought about said tragedy. The events being the time the past where Marion got Patrick sent to prison for indecency on account of his banging (being in love with) her husband. Which is sort of a difficult situation all round. And obviously we’re meant to blame SOCIETY, MAN, SOCIETY because if not for SOCIETY, MAN, SOCIETY than Tom would have been able to be with Patrick openly so he wouldn’t have married a woman he didn’t love and nobody would have been sent to prison for gross indecency.
On principle I didn’t want to condemn Marion even though she does a terrible, terrible thing (and knows she did) because Evil Woman Destroys Beautiful Gays is a cliché I despise almost as intensely as Gays Are For Tragedy.
Anyway, what’s really jarring is that Tragedy Happens and we last leave Patrick being horribly beaten up in prison for, yep, you guessed it being a gay. And then we’re blah years in the future and Patrick has had a terrible stroke and Marion is consumed by guilt for what she did to him. But ... what the fuck happened in between? I mean, I realise it’s a book about an incident – the events leading directly up to it and the far-reaching emotional consequences. And it couldn’t exactly detail The Fully Well Rounded And Satisfying Life Patrick Lived After Being Released From Prison Before Incidentally Having A Stroke because that would a) be very long b) outside the scope of the book and c) destroy the deep terrible tragedy of the gays.
But it does sort of feel like one the tragedy has happened, the author couldn’t be arsed any more. Except to swoop in and beat on a gay a bit more. I mean, yes, the man lost everything. Let’s give him a stroke too! Why not!
Anyway, here is a bit of Patrick thinking about his relationship with his ex-lover, Michael. And nicely indicates why this book infuriated me to the degree it did, because it’s quietly beautiful and very sad and sort of indicates that you can discuss this stuff without a drama klaxon.
We used to dance, Michael and I. Every Wednesday night. I’d make everything right. Fire laid. Dinner made (he loved anything with cream and butter. All those French sauces – sole au vin blanc, poulet au gratin à la crème landaise – and, to finish, if I’d had time, Saint Émilion au chocolat). A bottle of claret. The sheets fresh and clean, a towel laid out. A newly pressed suit. And music. All the sentimental magic that he loved. Caruso to start (I’ve always hated him, but for Michael I endured it). Then Sarah Vaughan singing ‘The Nearness of You’. We’d cling to each other for hours, shuffle round on the rug like a couple of marrieds, his cheek burning against mine. Wednesdays were an indulgence, I know that. For him and for me. I made him his favourite butter-rich foods (which played havoc with my stomach), hummed along to ‘Danny Boy’, and, in return, he danced in my arms. Only when the records were all played, the candles burned down to pools of wax, would I slowly undress him, here in my sitting room, and we’d dance again, naked, in absolute silence, save for our quickening breaths.
PS – Michael is blackmailed for his gayness and kills himself.
[This review brought to you by GR's insistence that I read 12 books this year in a public way]
Edit: from the semi-regular comments I STILL get on this review (despite the fact I wrote it in 2016) this is one of my most contentious GR reviews. Listen, if you liked this book, that’s cool. You can even tell me why it worked for you, when it didn’t work for me, if you want.
What is a completely pointless waste of your time, however, is swinging by to tell me what I felt about the book is wrong. Looking back, was I bit uncharitable? Y’know, probably. Have I taken the time to try to understand where the book was coming from and acknowledge its strengths: yes. Does the book for me: still no.
And that is okay. This is a critically acclaimed book published by a high profile author, who has recently secured a film deal on it. Believe me, she is fine. She does not need to be defended from a non-glowing GR review by someone utterly irrelevant to her.
And, yes, yes, you can still come to complain at me because you liked the book and I didn’t. Just don’t expect me to care?
Edit from 2026. Because people are still coming for me over the fact I didn't like this book, let me clarify a few things:
1. I'm British so I'm aware of the history of queer people in Britain thanks. Given a lot of the people whinging in the comments are not British, I suspect I know a fair bit more about the history of queer rights in Britain than you do. So step down.
2. If you make assumptions about my genitals, gender identity, life experiences and sexuality you're going to end up looking stupid. If you want to look stupid, that's fine. But maybe try not to? It's not good to be stupid. It's not good to be ignorant. It's also not good to make assumptions.
3. I'm aware the book is set in the 1950s and things were Bad TM for queer people (gay men especially back then). HOWEVER, this is still a book written in modern times for a modern audience, which means the author made specific creative choices about how she chose to portray a queer man living in the 1950s. My Policeman is like a checklist of homophobic events: former boyfriend dead due to blackmail, current boyfriend a closeted policeman, mistreated by boyfriend's cishet female partner, ended up in jail for homosexuality, beaten up in jail, has a stroke. The sheer excess of homophobic misery (cf. A Little Life) that is inflicted on her central protagonist feels actively vindictive to me, even for a man living in the 1950s. There is a view that many people hold (most of them not themselves queer, although I am aware this author is) that queer identity is validated through suffering and misery. That our history is a history of pain and that we exist to be pitied by those who other us relative to themselves. In case I'm not being direct enough, this is an inherently queerphobic view of queer people and queer history. For whatever reason, cishet folks seem to get all wet and sticky for queer tragedy. I think that's something you should examine instead of yelling at me because I didn't like a book.
4. If you would like to read a book that explores the deep psychological wounds left on queer men pre-Wolfenden (if you don't know about Wolfenden you really shouldn't be commenting on this review btw) I recommend Skin Lane by Neil Bartlett.
That is fucking all.
Omg, why I did read this? No, seriously why? I guess I wanted to read something queer that wasn’t explicitly m/m ... except I forgot a certain tendency (and this is an issue I have that is detached from the identity of the writer) in litfic about teh gays (see also A Little Life) around that there's a massive (I would argue, mostly straight) market for stories WHERE THEY MAKE US AS MISERABLE AS POSSIBLE. And while I have some patience for marginalised people writing tragedy for themselves for the sake of having a voice and finding catharsis, I have exactly none for non-marginalised people (or people marginalised along different axes) diddling themselves gleefully over the fact that marginalised people have shitty lives.
Anyway, what’s especially annoying about this book is that, in many ways, it is quite good. Except for the fact it’s awful. It’s set in 1950s Brighton, and evokes the period and the place really well. The writing is engaging and, at times, deeply compassionate, especially some of the sequences from Patrick’s diary. The story is, as I have indicated, queer-tragedy-by-numbers. The ‘my policeman’ of the title is Tom ... a policeman, who falls in love with a gay museum curator, but still marries a womanz (who is also in love with him).
There’s this slightly awkward framing device in which part of the book is written from the perspective of Marion, late in their lives, scribbling a confession to her husband about the events that took place earlier in their marriage. And the gaps are filled in by Patrick’s diary, written at the time, and later used as evidence in his trial for acts of gross indecency. Tom has no voice of his own at all, existing only in the eyes of his two lovers, which is both fitting and annoying. Fitting because his silence is kind of A THEME and annoying because it means, as a reader, there’s no way to access what these two people find so worth ruining their lives over in him.
I mean, probably that’s point. You can’t precisely point at what in a person creates love and maintains it—love is always alien from the outside (oh, y’see, ANOTHER THEME). But, hey, I’m a romance reader. At least have a go. And, more defensibly, I’m not a big fan of devices-for-the-sake-of-devices. Thematic/appropriate is not enough if it’s also emotionally disengaging. So say I, anyway.
There’s also this epic gap between the events and the frame. The frame being the future where Tom and Marion have been married for forty years, and presumably miserable, and Patrick has apparently had some kind of stroke, and Marion has insisted that she and Tom become his carer (for he has NOBODY because the gays, oh the gays, the lonely lives we lead) even though Tom won’t speak to him because of TEH TRAGEDEE and Marion was the woman who literally brought about said tragedy. The events being the time the past where Marion got Patrick sent to prison for indecency on account of his banging (being in love with) her husband. Which is sort of a difficult situation all round. And obviously we’re meant to blame SOCIETY, MAN, SOCIETY because if not for SOCIETY, MAN, SOCIETY than Tom would have been able to be with Patrick openly so he wouldn’t have married a woman he didn’t love and nobody would have been sent to prison for gross indecency.
On principle I didn’t want to condemn Marion even though she does a terrible, terrible thing (and knows she did) because Evil Woman Destroys Beautiful Gays is a cliché I despise almost as intensely as Gays Are For Tragedy.
Anyway, what’s really jarring is that Tragedy Happens and we last leave Patrick being horribly beaten up in prison for, yep, you guessed it being a gay. And then we’re blah years in the future and Patrick has had a terrible stroke and Marion is consumed by guilt for what she did to him. But ... what the fuck happened in between? I mean, I realise it’s a book about an incident – the events leading directly up to it and the far-reaching emotional consequences. And it couldn’t exactly detail The Fully Well Rounded And Satisfying Life Patrick Lived After Being Released From Prison Before Incidentally Having A Stroke because that would a) be very long b) outside the scope of the book and c) destroy the deep terrible tragedy of the gays.
But it does sort of feel like one the tragedy has happened, the author couldn’t be arsed any more. Except to swoop in and beat on a gay a bit more. I mean, yes, the man lost everything. Let’s give him a stroke too! Why not!
Anyway, here is a bit of Patrick thinking about his relationship with his ex-lover, Michael. And nicely indicates why this book infuriated me to the degree it did, because it’s quietly beautiful and very sad and sort of indicates that you can discuss this stuff without a drama klaxon.
We used to dance, Michael and I. Every Wednesday night. I’d make everything right. Fire laid. Dinner made (he loved anything with cream and butter. All those French sauces – sole au vin blanc, poulet au gratin à la crème landaise – and, to finish, if I’d had time, Saint Émilion au chocolat). A bottle of claret. The sheets fresh and clean, a towel laid out. A newly pressed suit. And music. All the sentimental magic that he loved. Caruso to start (I’ve always hated him, but for Michael I endured it). Then Sarah Vaughan singing ‘The Nearness of You’. We’d cling to each other for hours, shuffle round on the rug like a couple of marrieds, his cheek burning against mine. Wednesdays were an indulgence, I know that. For him and for me. I made him his favourite butter-rich foods (which played havoc with my stomach), hummed along to ‘Danny Boy’, and, in return, he danced in my arms. Only when the records were all played, the candles burned down to pools of wax, would I slowly undress him, here in my sitting room, and we’d dance again, naked, in absolute silence, save for our quickening breaths.
PS – Michael is blackmailed for his gayness and kills himself.
[This review brought to you by GR's insistence that I read 12 books this year in a public way]
Edit: from the semi-regular comments I STILL get on this review (despite the fact I wrote it in 2016) this is one of my most contentious GR reviews. Listen, if you liked this book, that’s cool. You can even tell me why it worked for you, when it didn’t work for me, if you want.
What is a completely pointless waste of your time, however, is swinging by to tell me what I felt about the book is wrong. Looking back, was I bit uncharitable? Y’know, probably. Have I taken the time to try to understand where the book was coming from and acknowledge its strengths: yes. Does the book for me: still no.
And that is okay. This is a critically acclaimed book published by a high profile author, who has recently secured a film deal on it. Believe me, she is fine. She does not need to be defended from a non-glowing GR review by someone utterly irrelevant to her.
And, yes, yes, you can still come to complain at me because you liked the book and I didn’t. Just don’t expect me to care?
Edit from 2026. Because people are still coming for me over the fact I didn't like this book, let me clarify a few things:
1. I'm British so I'm aware of the history of queer people in Britain thanks. Given a lot of the people whinging in the comments are not British, I suspect I know a fair bit more about the history of queer rights in Britain than you do. So step down.
2. If you make assumptions about my genitals, gender identity, life experiences and sexuality you're going to end up looking stupid. If you want to look stupid, that's fine. But maybe try not to? It's not good to be stupid. It's not good to be ignorant. It's also not good to make assumptions.
3. I'm aware the book is set in the 1950s and things were Bad TM for queer people (gay men especially back then). HOWEVER, this is still a book written in modern times for a modern audience, which means the author made specific creative choices about how she chose to portray a queer man living in the 1950s. My Policeman is like a checklist of homophobic events: former boyfriend dead due to blackmail, current boyfriend a closeted policeman, mistreated by boyfriend's cishet female partner, ended up in jail for homosexuality, beaten up in jail, has a stroke. The sheer excess of homophobic misery (cf. A Little Life) that is inflicted on her central protagonist feels actively vindictive to me, even for a man living in the 1950s. There is a view that many people hold (most of them not themselves queer, although I am aware this author is) that queer identity is validated through suffering and misery. That our history is a history of pain and that we exist to be pitied by those who other us relative to themselves. In case I'm not being direct enough, this is an inherently queerphobic view of queer people and queer history. For whatever reason, cishet folks seem to get all wet and sticky for queer tragedy. I think that's something you should examine instead of yelling at me because I didn't like a book.
4. If you would like to read a book that explores the deep psychological wounds left on queer men pre-Wolfenden (if you don't know about Wolfenden you really shouldn't be commenting on this review btw) I recommend Skin Lane by Neil Bartlett.
That is fucking all.
March 26, 2021
Goodreads needs to get their shit together and make half stars an option
September 14, 2022
my favorite thing about the book is that it feels like a book. it feels like a real like, you know, go to the bookstore, novel, book
October 9, 2020
the fact that harry styles is playing tom... like pls yes thank u.
April 30, 2021
I cut 2 stars because the author gave major spoilers on "Anna Karenina" which I was gonna read. Yes, I'm a stubborn bitch like that.
February 14, 2014
Edit October 2022: wow, lots of people found this review, huh? I haven't replied individually because tbh, it's more than 8 years since I read the book and my memories of it are sketchy, although I do remember wanting to throw it across the room. If you loved it, that's great! I'm happy for you :) I'll bet there's other stuff that I've read and loved that you hated. Maybe the film will make me feel differently, or maybe not. Either way, I stand by my review.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I was both fascinated and immensely annoyed by this book. The blurb describes it as a tragic love story, of a man and a woman both in love with the same man in a time (the 1950s) when it is safer for him to marry the woman and maintain a front of respectability. As a longtime reader of LGBT fiction, it sounded like exactly the sort of book I would love.
I didn't. In the spirit of fairness, I should list its good points: 1950s Brighton is beautifully vivid, and the prevailing attitudes of the time are well-captured. Patrick and his mother are wonderful characters, Julia (a relatively minor character, yet an important one) is great, and the relationship between Tom and Patrick feels era-appropriately dangerous.
However, Marion - the main protagonist - is an out and out bitch. I don't use that word lightly, but honestly, I don't think I've hated a female character this much since Mary-Anne in the Tales of the City series. I think we're supposed to empathise with her plight - she's young and unworldly, living in a time when homosexuality just wasn't talked about, so when she announces that she's in love with Tom and is warned by his sister, no less, that he's 'not like that' she's naively (or willfully) unaware of what that means.
I wanted to punch her then, and I didn't shift much on that opinion throughout the rest of the book. If anything, my loathing deepened as it became clear exactly what she'd done to dispose of her opposition. She loses a good fried - Julia - in her refusal to accept her husband's 'perversions', loses her husband his career, and destroys Patrick's life. And all so she can 'win' Tom, a plot which (thankfully) backfires spectacularly, leading to a loveless, sexless, forty year marriage. (What is never made clear is why Tom would choose to stay with this awful human being in later years when divorce and homosexuality both became more socially acceptable. Another big failing from my perspective is that Marion's point of view is so dominant, there isn't room for Tom to speak for himself.)
The ending is heartbreaking. Marion finally does the right thing and tells Tom and the ailing Patrick what she did, and true to form, disappears to leave them to deal with it. I was so angry with her by this point that I didn't even care that the ending was a bit cliched and unnecessarily dramatic.
In short, this isn't a gay romance, nor an exploration of the difficulties of maintaining a public face and an illegal private love. It's a straight woman's vision of those things, written for other straight women, and as I don't fall into that category I found it incredibly insulting and annoying. In the hands of a different writer I believe it could have been far more sensitively handled, and Marion could have even become less loathsome. As it is, for all its good points, it remains horrible.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I was both fascinated and immensely annoyed by this book. The blurb describes it as a tragic love story, of a man and a woman both in love with the same man in a time (the 1950s) when it is safer for him to marry the woman and maintain a front of respectability. As a longtime reader of LGBT fiction, it sounded like exactly the sort of book I would love.
I didn't. In the spirit of fairness, I should list its good points: 1950s Brighton is beautifully vivid, and the prevailing attitudes of the time are well-captured. Patrick and his mother are wonderful characters, Julia (a relatively minor character, yet an important one) is great, and the relationship between Tom and Patrick feels era-appropriately dangerous.
However, Marion - the main protagonist - is an out and out bitch. I don't use that word lightly, but honestly, I don't think I've hated a female character this much since Mary-Anne in the Tales of the City series. I think we're supposed to empathise with her plight - she's young and unworldly, living in a time when homosexuality just wasn't talked about, so when she announces that she's in love with Tom and is warned by his sister, no less, that he's 'not like that' she's naively (or willfully) unaware of what that means.
I wanted to punch her then, and I didn't shift much on that opinion throughout the rest of the book. If anything, my loathing deepened as it became clear exactly what she'd done to dispose of her opposition. She loses a good fried - Julia - in her refusal to accept her husband's 'perversions', loses her husband his career, and destroys Patrick's life. And all so she can 'win' Tom, a plot which (thankfully) backfires spectacularly, leading to a loveless, sexless, forty year marriage. (What is never made clear is why Tom would choose to stay with this awful human being in later years when divorce and homosexuality both became more socially acceptable. Another big failing from my perspective is that Marion's point of view is so dominant, there isn't room for Tom to speak for himself.)
The ending is heartbreaking. Marion finally does the right thing and tells Tom and the ailing Patrick what she did, and true to form, disappears to leave them to deal with it. I was so angry with her by this point that I didn't even care that the ending was a bit cliched and unnecessarily dramatic.
In short, this isn't a gay romance, nor an exploration of the difficulties of maintaining a public face and an illegal private love. It's a straight woman's vision of those things, written for other straight women, and as I don't fall into that category I found it incredibly insulting and annoying. In the hands of a different writer I believe it could have been far more sensitively handled, and Marion could have even become less loathsome. As it is, for all its good points, it remains horrible.
June 18, 2022
your honor harry styles made me do it
February 24, 2021
4.5
“For a policeman, you’re very romantic” “For an artist, you’re very afraid.”
“For a policeman, you’re very romantic” “For an artist, you’re very afraid.”
April 29, 2021
I'll start by saying that, having read the book's summary, I was fully prepared for some gay trauma porn. I, however, expected something to come out of it, as I'm not opposed to tragic love-stories.
The thing is, though, this isn't a queer love-story. This is told from the perspectives of Tom's wife and Tom's lover, and I though it might create an interesting take on how an object of desire, unattainable at the time (be it because of social conventions, or because of a lack of sexual attraction), is described within the stories of those who retell it. And sadly, the dominant perspective is Marion's. At some point, I thought it was a bit of a shame that we're stuck with schoolteaching stories (and I'm a teacher trainee) when we could be reading the other, more interesting, side of the story, but I presumed it was a revindication of sorts, the reclaiming of one's life story when one has lived through it as an spectator. I could empathize with Marion's naive struggle, however misguided and restrictive it was.
So you can imagine my surprise when I find out that I've been reading the ramblings of this pitiful old woman for about 300 pages just to realize that she's not naive, or misguided. She's downright evil. And believe me, I don't say this lightly. It is one thing to have to connect the dots through the words of a third party, leaving our doomed lover to narrate only the pain. It is a very different one to find out our narrator has caused this pain and, in her dellusion, continues to do so.
Marion willingly enters a marriage she knows isn't corresponded. Sticks with it for no other reason than her obsessions for a man that she knows won't ever love her. Outs a gay man in a time when it was a crime, costing him his job, his freedom, and his love (and this is important, however angry she was at Patrick for his affair with Tom, he didn't take him away from her, he never was hers; they loved each other, she is the misplaced piece here). Then she finds him, two strokes after and drags him to their house so her husband can see the consequences of the one good thing he had and shared with him, decades ago. So there's no memory of the man he use to know, just the shadow of him, twisted and decrepit; dying. So the man he betrayed has to depend on her care, the evil RAT who outed him. It is downright cruel. It's, as Tom puts it, her final revenge. And the idea that they'll read her misguided words, hand in hand, as if lovingly unburdened by the truth is so out of the realm of sanity that I want to slap her until she gets the sense she clearly lacks knocked into her.
But we won't know how they'll react, do we? Because Marion (and, by extension, the author) isn't worried about that. That's why I say this isn't a love story. This is Marion's story, who cannibalizes someone else's to give gravitas to her own. The fucking vulture. But what do we really know about that love story? We know about the cravings of a man that's written delusional and sad. I know this is the 50s, but Patrick is the very painting of a man who knows his existence and desires are a crime, there's no room for hope here, from either him or Tom. No contained happiness that lasts more than some brief moments. There's a craving met with acceptance, but we don't read, on the page, the joy that followed that, only the sneaking around. Patrick never gets to claim anything, even if temporarily. Then we jump into the future to be subjected to a passage on his prison time that felt like torture. That's it. The three decades between his short time in prison and his stroke are of no importance. The visit to Venice is barely there, whereas we spend pages on Marion's schooltrip just so it can be the groundwork for more betrayal: Julia. A secondary, but rich, character. And one I would've wanted to hear more from, instead of our ever-droning ingenué, who also gets the short end of the stick by a woman who wishes herself to be modern and progressive, but is an ignorant bigot. Even Tom's sister shows up to trap a man with a fake pregnancy and agreingly nod at her brother's wife sabotaging his entire life.
I foolishly expected to hear from Tom, in the end. To contrast both of those perspective's, finally, as he took central stage. He doesn't. We're instead tortured by another round of delusion as Marion continues to place herself as some misguided heroine, finally righting her wrongs. As if she ever could. And to top it off, she lets us know she'll pay a visit to Julia. Let that poor woman alone, you crone. This is your doing. No one asked you to stick around, but you burdened everyone (characters in the book and reader) with your presence and then threw a tantrum when you realized you were a fool.
The author's style is good, the book is very readable, but not only is it a wasted opportunity to spend this much time away from the real story it supposedly wants to tell; by the time you reach the twist, you realize it never was something the author was interested in. She uses Tom and Patrick for setting, then spends the entire book on this romantic heroine-wannabe with delusions of grandeur. A straight woman talking about a straight woman, and one that's never truly condemned by the author for what she does, excused by the times, now atoning. This is some Briony bullshit. But Briony was a child, and atones with a fictional happy ending; Marion is an adult woman, and all she does is force her husband and his lover to relive more pain. Fucking c***.
Tom and Patrick's love story barely has any interest to Roberts, outside of the thrilling feeling of unlawfulness she seems so interested in. And we know all this because we don't get to read the ending to it. The second Marion's out the door, it's over.
The thing is, though, this isn't a queer love-story. This is told from the perspectives of Tom's wife and Tom's lover, and I though it might create an interesting take on how an object of desire, unattainable at the time (be it because of social conventions, or because of a lack of sexual attraction), is described within the stories of those who retell it. And sadly, the dominant perspective is Marion's. At some point, I thought it was a bit of a shame that we're stuck with schoolteaching stories (and I'm a teacher trainee) when we could be reading the other, more interesting, side of the story, but I presumed it was a revindication of sorts, the reclaiming of one's life story when one has lived through it as an spectator. I could empathize with Marion's naive struggle, however misguided and restrictive it was.
So you can imagine my surprise when I find out that I've been reading the ramblings of this pitiful old woman for about 300 pages just to realize that she's not naive, or misguided. She's downright evil. And believe me, I don't say this lightly. It is one thing to have to connect the dots through the words of a third party, leaving our doomed lover to narrate only the pain. It is a very different one to find out our narrator has caused this pain and, in her dellusion, continues to do so.
Marion willingly enters a marriage she knows isn't corresponded. Sticks with it for no other reason than her obsessions for a man that she knows won't ever love her. Outs a gay man in a time when it was a crime, costing him his job, his freedom, and his love (and this is important, however angry she was at Patrick for his affair with Tom, he didn't take him away from her, he never was hers; they loved each other, she is the misplaced piece here). Then she finds him, two strokes after and drags him to their house so her husband can see the consequences of the one good thing he had and shared with him, decades ago. So there's no memory of the man he use to know, just the shadow of him, twisted and decrepit; dying. So the man he betrayed has to depend on her care, the evil RAT who outed him. It is downright cruel. It's, as Tom puts it, her final revenge. And the idea that they'll read her misguided words, hand in hand, as if lovingly unburdened by the truth is so out of the realm of sanity that I want to slap her until she gets the sense she clearly lacks knocked into her.
But we won't know how they'll react, do we? Because Marion (and, by extension, the author) isn't worried about that. That's why I say this isn't a love story. This is Marion's story, who cannibalizes someone else's to give gravitas to her own. The fucking vulture. But what do we really know about that love story? We know about the cravings of a man that's written delusional and sad. I know this is the 50s, but Patrick is the very painting of a man who knows his existence and desires are a crime, there's no room for hope here, from either him or Tom. No contained happiness that lasts more than some brief moments. There's a craving met with acceptance, but we don't read, on the page, the joy that followed that, only the sneaking around. Patrick never gets to claim anything, even if temporarily. Then we jump into the future to be subjected to a passage on his prison time that felt like torture. That's it. The three decades between his short time in prison and his stroke are of no importance. The visit to Venice is barely there, whereas we spend pages on Marion's schooltrip just so it can be the groundwork for more betrayal: Julia. A secondary, but rich, character. And one I would've wanted to hear more from, instead of our ever-droning ingenué, who also gets the short end of the stick by a woman who wishes herself to be modern and progressive, but is an ignorant bigot. Even Tom's sister shows up to trap a man with a fake pregnancy and agreingly nod at her brother's wife sabotaging his entire life.
I foolishly expected to hear from Tom, in the end. To contrast both of those perspective's, finally, as he took central stage. He doesn't. We're instead tortured by another round of delusion as Marion continues to place herself as some misguided heroine, finally righting her wrongs. As if she ever could. And to top it off, she lets us know she'll pay a visit to Julia. Let that poor woman alone, you crone. This is your doing. No one asked you to stick around, but you burdened everyone (characters in the book and reader) with your presence and then threw a tantrum when you realized you were a fool.
The author's style is good, the book is very readable, but not only is it a wasted opportunity to spend this much time away from the real story it supposedly wants to tell; by the time you reach the twist, you realize it never was something the author was interested in. She uses Tom and Patrick for setting, then spends the entire book on this romantic heroine-wannabe with delusions of grandeur. A straight woman talking about a straight woman, and one that's never truly condemned by the author for what she does, excused by the times, now atoning. This is some Briony bullshit. But Briony was a child, and atones with a fictional happy ending; Marion is an adult woman, and all she does is force her husband and his lover to relive more pain. Fucking c***.
Tom and Patrick's love story barely has any interest to Roberts, outside of the thrilling feeling of unlawfulness she seems so interested in. And we know all this because we don't get to read the ending to it. The second Marion's out the door, it's over.
July 24, 2015
5/5
My level of coherency right now: holyfuckingshit. That's about the only intelligent thing my brain's able to produce right now (which admittedly also could be because One Direction dropped a new tune out of nowhere but also because this book was awesome!!).
This book is basically a tragic tale of three souls unfortunately tangled together. I don't think you were supposed to hate anyone, I sure as hell don't. At times I was so angry with Marion but at the same time I could sort of see her feelings, too? Like wow, she must have felt so massively betrayed by the person she loved the most...who didn't ever love her back but pretended to, because it was the easiest. Like straight up from the beginning you could see that someone was bound to get hurt. I was wrong; it wasn't someone. It was everyone. Sometimes the inevitability of it all made me frustrated to the point where I actually wanted to tear my hair out.
Everything about this book was literally perfect. I loved the characterizations. Admittedly I don't know a lot about the 1950's (I'm more up to date with the 1940s and also with the 1980s and onwards) but I loved the atmosphere of this book.
What's the most fucked up for me though is that PEOPLE WENT TO PRISON BECAUSE OF WHO THEY WERE LIKE FIFTY YEARS AGO????????????????? How????? fucked???? up?????? is????? that?!?!?!?!?!?! I mean. How could someone's sexuality ever be wrong. I can be open with who I am and no one ever bats an eye but fifty years ago, I could have been forced to go to prison. That's a scary thought. Also, I can't help but think that if this book had taken place in 2015, no one would have gotten hurt because you wouldn't have to hide now. You don't anymore, not in England at least.
My level of coherency right now: holyfuckingshit. That's about the only intelligent thing my brain's able to produce right now (which admittedly also could be because One Direction dropped a new tune out of nowhere but also because this book was awesome!!).
This book is basically a tragic tale of three souls unfortunately tangled together. I don't think you were supposed to hate anyone, I sure as hell don't. At times I was so angry with Marion but at the same time I could sort of see her feelings, too? Like wow, she must have felt so massively betrayed by the person she loved the most...who didn't ever love her back but pretended to, because it was the easiest. Like straight up from the beginning you could see that someone was bound to get hurt. I was wrong; it wasn't someone. It was everyone. Sometimes the inevitability of it all made me frustrated to the point where I actually wanted to tear my hair out.
Everything about this book was literally perfect. I loved the characterizations. Admittedly I don't know a lot about the 1950's (I'm more up to date with the 1940s and also with the 1980s and onwards) but I loved the atmosphere of this book.
What's the most fucked up for me though is that PEOPLE WENT TO PRISON BECAUSE OF WHO THEY WERE LIKE FIFTY YEARS AGO????????????????? How????? fucked???? up?????? is????? that?!?!?!?!?!?! I mean. How could someone's sexuality ever be wrong. I can be open with who I am and no one ever bats an eye but fifty years ago, I could have been forced to go to prison. That's a scary thought. Also, I can't help but think that if this book had taken place in 2015, no one would have gotten hurt because you wouldn't have to hide now. You don't anymore, not in England at least.
June 24, 2022
I have a lot of feelings about this book, but all I have to say is Patrick deserved better.
April 29, 2021
Harry Styles tricked me into reading this book. It is okayish, but I found some parts quite boresome. Meh. I’ll still watch the film because of “reasons” though.
PS: come on, Goodreads, bring us some half stars, these ratings aren’t accurate.
PS: come on, Goodreads, bring us some half stars, these ratings aren’t accurate.
October 5, 2020
"He doesn’t know you, either, does he?"
Beautifully written and incredibly sad. Reading this was like waiting for a train wreck to happen. It's heartbreaking to see how intolerance can literally ruin so many lives and to know that it could be a crime just to exist.
I would have enjoyed this story if it was more of a love story, but it was too focused on Marion's selfishness. At first I sympathized with her but I couldn't quite find myself to feel any compassion with her toward the end... I didn't find any of the characters to be particularly likeable (besides Julia?). Although their circumstances were of course difficult, I couldn't quite connect with them. I wished this book included a section with Tom's POV, it would have added some depth and layers of humanization to both Marion and Patrick.
Overall this was definitely a sad, moving story about betrayal and regret. But I think I just expected it to be something more.
Beautifully written and incredibly sad. Reading this was like waiting for a train wreck to happen. It's heartbreaking to see how intolerance can literally ruin so many lives and to know that it could be a crime just to exist.
I would have enjoyed this story if it was more of a love story, but it was too focused on Marion's selfishness. At first I sympathized with her but I couldn't quite find myself to feel any compassion with her toward the end... I didn't find any of the characters to be particularly likeable (besides Julia?). Although their circumstances were of course difficult, I couldn't quite connect with them. I wished this book included a section with Tom's POV, it would have added some depth and layers of humanization to both Marion and Patrick.
Overall this was definitely a sad, moving story about betrayal and regret. But I think I just expected it to be something more.
August 9, 2021
Audiobook…narrated by Piers Hampton, and Emma Powell
…..10 hours and 10 minutes
“My Policeman”, inspired by the life of E.M. Forester’s long term relationship with a police officer, Bob Buckingham, is one of my favorite types of books to indulge in. It’s a lushly woven tapestry of ‘desire’….
with imperfect situations and imperfect characters…The storytelling is sultry….intimate….dangerous…captivating….shrewd….and a little intoxicating magnetic.
…We meet Patrick Hazelwood, ( wealthy, gay, educated, a museum curator)…..He falls in love with Tom.
…We meet Tom Burgess, ( gorgeous, gay, broad-shouldered, policeman) …He falls in love with Patrick
…We meet Marion, (Tom’s wife), she is a school teacher, more the outsider than the men. Marion fell in love with Tom knowing he was gay.
The personal effects of a heterosexual marriage with a gay spouse….
is a story that’s been around since the beginning of time.
I could tell several ‘true’ stories myself….from the friends I know who have lived in such marriages. Each with different solutions and outcomes.
But…..
being familiar with this topic - I felt loving affection for all the characters, their struggles, and their relationship complexities.
The story was as engaging as could be ….with elegant effortless prose.
I was hooked from beginning to end.
I haven’t seen the film, but I’d like to.
…..10 hours and 10 minutes
“My Policeman”, inspired by the life of E.M. Forester’s long term relationship with a police officer, Bob Buckingham, is one of my favorite types of books to indulge in. It’s a lushly woven tapestry of ‘desire’….
with imperfect situations and imperfect characters…The storytelling is sultry….intimate….dangerous…captivating….shrewd….and a little intoxicating magnetic.
…We meet Patrick Hazelwood, ( wealthy, gay, educated, a museum curator)…..He falls in love with Tom.
…We meet Tom Burgess, ( gorgeous, gay, broad-shouldered, policeman) …He falls in love with Patrick
…We meet Marion, (Tom’s wife), she is a school teacher, more the outsider than the men. Marion fell in love with Tom knowing he was gay.
The personal effects of a heterosexual marriage with a gay spouse….
is a story that’s been around since the beginning of time.
I could tell several ‘true’ stories myself….from the friends I know who have lived in such marriages. Each with different solutions and outcomes.
But…..
being familiar with this topic - I felt loving affection for all the characters, their struggles, and their relationship complexities.
The story was as engaging as could be ….with elegant effortless prose.
I was hooked from beginning to end.
I haven’t seen the film, but I’d like to.
March 24, 2021
3.5/5 ish
"i could almost feel him listening, he was so eager to hear what i had to say. of course, that’s the greatest flattery: a willing ear."
the plot is laid bare in the description and while we know of the psychosocial consequences of the bury your gays trope, the book makes it very clear in the very first few pages that our queer characters have suffered all their lives. this could have been shorter, for there is an almost constant, lingering dullness, but it is also fairly well-written and is definitely one of the much better ones in the historical fiction genre. the setting is vivid and so well done, as are the dual narratives of marion and patrick, set forty years apart — very interesting (and heartbreaking) given their different motivations, expectations and experiences about their shared lover tom, whose point of view is never shared, sidelining him in his own story.
"i could almost feel him listening, he was so eager to hear what i had to say. of course, that’s the greatest flattery: a willing ear."
the plot is laid bare in the description and while we know of the psychosocial consequences of the bury your gays trope, the book makes it very clear in the very first few pages that our queer characters have suffered all their lives. this could have been shorter, for there is an almost constant, lingering dullness, but it is also fairly well-written and is definitely one of the much better ones in the historical fiction genre. the setting is vivid and so well done, as are the dual narratives of marion and patrick, set forty years apart — very interesting (and heartbreaking) given their different motivations, expectations and experiences about their shared lover tom, whose point of view is never shared, sidelining him in his own story.
May 13, 2021
Well, this one's left me feeling conflicted.
First off, I'd like to say that - generally speaking - I do think the book achieved what (I hope) it was trying to do. Offering us the perspectives of Marion and Patrick but leaving Tom an outsider to his own narrative, these journal entries created a version of Tom that could only ever be shrouded in secrecy. He was a guest, a constant but distant subject of desire, in these two narrators' lives, making the reader get a grasp on his lack of agency.
Though presented as the main narrator, Marion's lack of positive traits makes it difficult to relate to or sympathise with her. I feel for her struggle in the sense that she was so obsessed with the idea of a man to relieve her of societal pressures that she closed herself off to the signs of his disinterest and, sometimes, disdain. She was deceived - but her feelings of betrayal do not justify her choices. I cannot and will not pretend that her narrative was brought to a satisfying ending. I did not expect one, don't get me wrong, but her final act of attempting to rectify her mistakes reeked of nothing but self-grandeur and a need to have the last word. She was a meddler, in every part of this story, and that's what made me dread each time the book returned to her entries. In the end, I hoped that Julia would leave her standing in the rain, abandoned. That's not a good way to feel about a protagonist's final send-off. If all of this was intentional, I commend the author - if not, I'm left unsettled.
Regarding Patrick, I feel conflicted as well. I quite enjoyed the tonal shift, the obvious way in which Patrick had a much more realistic grasp on the world around him than Marion did. He was direct in his thoughts and feelings, a bit crass at times, and I felt a sense of kinship with him. Describing Tom, he veered into the same territory as Marion - obsessive, demanding, deceiving. But I felt like his love and his need for Tom's presence in his life were genuine. Reading his journals, I thought: Jesus fucking Christ, Tom must have the most intoxicating presence of anyone on this planet - with the way in which he made Patrick risk his own safety (and life) occasionally. I felt intrigued, because Tom sounded like more of an intriguing person through his eyes. With the way in which he acted around Patrick, I could understand why Patrick fell for him hard, and fast.
Tom - well. As I said earlier, Tom exists only as a culmination of whatever Marion and Patrick deemed worthy to point out about him. Humorous, shy, beautiful, interested in the world around him. Pained and paranoid and yet, somehow, reckless in his need for affection. I fell in love with him a little, reading these descriptions of him. His hurt and anger and apprehension, as well as his elation and joy, felt real. And yet, he seemed fickle. Disappearing and reappearing, giving people what he thought they wanted, staying quiet. Settling. I wonder whether I'd have minded his selfishness more, had his wife been someone other than Marion. Who knows.
All that being said, what made me pause the most was the way in which the story progressed after Venice. I won't go into detail but I've got to say that I feel like the stakes either weren't established correctly or that the pacing was off. We had years, decades even, that weren't addressed. Consequences to revalations that weren't explored. Tom's fate after the court testimonies, aside from his change in profession, was a footnote. Patrick doesn't exist until Marion decides that he should - and he's been dealt yet another painful, searing fate that Marion can't help but make entirely about herself. Tom's change in priorities and feelings goes largely unaddressed, aside from a quick mention of the men he fucks on the side.
The glimmer of hope I felt, reading about Tom wanting to reconnect with Patrick after Marion's lied to him about his condition, was soured by Marion's need for control once more. She couldn't help it - she had to make the resolution to decades of loss and pain and fear about her own guilt and redemption. I genuinely wished that Tom would abandon her letters and approach Patrick without them. Tell his own story, maybe, because it'd been lacking in Marion's and Patrick's.
Like Marion mentioned - all Patrick ever wanted was for Tom to be there. He needed him, either to recover or to let go. What Tom wanted, we don't really know. What Marion wanted, the voice in my head wanted to deny her.
My rating for this book is so ambivalent because I cannot for the life of me figure out whether my feelings of dissatisfaction and frustration were aimed for by the author or not. If they were - well played, I very much dislike where this story has placed its focus. I enjoyed the writing itself for the most part, aside from a handful of moments that made me cringe with second-hand embarrassment, but I feel like there's heaps of unexplored potential here.
I'm interested to see whether the film adaptation will finally grant Tom some agency of his own.
First off, I'd like to say that - generally speaking - I do think the book achieved what (I hope) it was trying to do. Offering us the perspectives of Marion and Patrick but leaving Tom an outsider to his own narrative, these journal entries created a version of Tom that could only ever be shrouded in secrecy. He was a guest, a constant but distant subject of desire, in these two narrators' lives, making the reader get a grasp on his lack of agency.
Though presented as the main narrator, Marion's lack of positive traits makes it difficult to relate to or sympathise with her. I feel for her struggle in the sense that she was so obsessed with the idea of a man to relieve her of societal pressures that she closed herself off to the signs of his disinterest and, sometimes, disdain. She was deceived - but her feelings of betrayal do not justify her choices. I cannot and will not pretend that her narrative was brought to a satisfying ending. I did not expect one, don't get me wrong, but her final act of attempting to rectify her mistakes reeked of nothing but self-grandeur and a need to have the last word. She was a meddler, in every part of this story, and that's what made me dread each time the book returned to her entries. In the end, I hoped that Julia would leave her standing in the rain, abandoned. That's not a good way to feel about a protagonist's final send-off. If all of this was intentional, I commend the author - if not, I'm left unsettled.
Regarding Patrick, I feel conflicted as well. I quite enjoyed the tonal shift, the obvious way in which Patrick had a much more realistic grasp on the world around him than Marion did. He was direct in his thoughts and feelings, a bit crass at times, and I felt a sense of kinship with him. Describing Tom, he veered into the same territory as Marion - obsessive, demanding, deceiving. But I felt like his love and his need for Tom's presence in his life were genuine. Reading his journals, I thought: Jesus fucking Christ, Tom must have the most intoxicating presence of anyone on this planet - with the way in which he made Patrick risk his own safety (and life) occasionally. I felt intrigued, because Tom sounded like more of an intriguing person through his eyes. With the way in which he acted around Patrick, I could understand why Patrick fell for him hard, and fast.
Tom - well. As I said earlier, Tom exists only as a culmination of whatever Marion and Patrick deemed worthy to point out about him. Humorous, shy, beautiful, interested in the world around him. Pained and paranoid and yet, somehow, reckless in his need for affection. I fell in love with him a little, reading these descriptions of him. His hurt and anger and apprehension, as well as his elation and joy, felt real. And yet, he seemed fickle. Disappearing and reappearing, giving people what he thought they wanted, staying quiet. Settling. I wonder whether I'd have minded his selfishness more, had his wife been someone other than Marion. Who knows.
All that being said, what made me pause the most was the way in which the story progressed after Venice. I won't go into detail but I've got to say that I feel like the stakes either weren't established correctly or that the pacing was off. We had years, decades even, that weren't addressed. Consequences to revalations that weren't explored. Tom's fate after the court testimonies, aside from his change in profession, was a footnote. Patrick doesn't exist until Marion decides that he should - and he's been dealt yet another painful, searing fate that Marion can't help but make entirely about herself. Tom's change in priorities and feelings goes largely unaddressed, aside from a quick mention of the men he fucks on the side.
The glimmer of hope I felt, reading about Tom wanting to reconnect with Patrick after Marion's lied to him about his condition, was soured by Marion's need for control once more. She couldn't help it - she had to make the resolution to decades of loss and pain and fear about her own guilt and redemption. I genuinely wished that Tom would abandon her letters and approach Patrick without them. Tell his own story, maybe, because it'd been lacking in Marion's and Patrick's.
Like Marion mentioned - all Patrick ever wanted was for Tom to be there. He needed him, either to recover or to let go. What Tom wanted, we don't really know. What Marion wanted, the voice in my head wanted to deny her.
My rating for this book is so ambivalent because I cannot for the life of me figure out whether my feelings of dissatisfaction and frustration were aimed for by the author or not. If they were - well played, I very much dislike where this story has placed its focus. I enjoyed the writing itself for the most part, aside from a handful of moments that made me cringe with second-hand embarrassment, but I feel like there's heaps of unexplored potential here.
I'm interested to see whether the film adaptation will finally grant Tom some agency of his own.
January 31, 2013
beautifully written and incredibly sad. set in the 1950s when homosexuality was still illegal in great britain, a woman and man recount their lives being in love with the same man ...
i found myself wondering/growing increasingly frustrated with certain elements of the story, such as - .
i also wish we'd been able to hear some of the story from tom's side but since he is supposed to be this kind of idol/enigmatic character i understand why the author chose not to go there ...
patrick was my favourite and everytime it switched back to marion i was impatient to get back to him! i found it hard to sympathise with her, even if
i also liked the way the story went back and forth in time, it was done really well. when it was over i really felt like i knew patrick and marion. oh and julia was amazing, i wish she'd been in it more! can she please have a spin-off? haha
i found myself wondering/growing increasingly frustrated with certain elements of the story, such as - .
i also wish we'd been able to hear some of the story from tom's side but since he is supposed to be this kind of idol/enigmatic character i understand why the author chose not to go there ...
patrick was my favourite and everytime it switched back to marion i was impatient to get back to him! i found it hard to sympathise with her, even if
i also liked the way the story went back and forth in time, it was done really well. when it was over i really felt like i knew patrick and marion. oh and julia was amazing, i wish she'd been in it more! can she please have a spin-off? haha
August 1, 2022
4.5***
This was BRILLIANT!!!
“You were looking at Tom without smiling, with an expression of deep absorption. You considered him, in the same way that others in the room were considering the displays.”
❤️
The deep emotions captures between the characters of this story remind me a lot of the complex relationships in the novels of E. M. Forster.
Forster is even mentioned in “My Policeman” as one of the forward thinking creatives who is striving for change.
What’s even more fascinating, as a huge fan of Forster myself, is that this story is based off of Forster’s relationship with policeman Robert Buckingham.
❤️
One of my favorite things to do after reading and falling in love with an authors works is to research and learn about their lives. It’s evident in this stunning novel that Bethan Roberts did this as well! The fact that the poetic words of one writer can influence and produce more poetic words from another writer is magic!
❤️
“DUM-de, went my trochaic heart.”
This was BRILLIANT!!!
“You were looking at Tom without smiling, with an expression of deep absorption. You considered him, in the same way that others in the room were considering the displays.”
❤️
The deep emotions captures between the characters of this story remind me a lot of the complex relationships in the novels of E. M. Forster.
Forster is even mentioned in “My Policeman” as one of the forward thinking creatives who is striving for change.
What’s even more fascinating, as a huge fan of Forster myself, is that this story is based off of Forster’s relationship with policeman Robert Buckingham.
❤️
One of my favorite things to do after reading and falling in love with an authors works is to research and learn about their lives. It’s evident in this stunning novel that Bethan Roberts did this as well! The fact that the poetic words of one writer can influence and produce more poetic words from another writer is magic!
❤️
“DUM-de, went my trochaic heart.”
October 6, 2022
I would like to thank the person who cast Harry Styles as Tom because otherwise, I wouldn't have read this ABSOLUTE GEM of a book. Will forever recommend this, I loved it so much. Bethan Roberts' writing is absolutely immaculate and it will make you empathize with the characters on an astronomical level.
September 27, 2022
For the love of all the gods.
The eye-watering was real.
I don't cry while reading ok? Like ever. I've fought back tears before, but it's a rare occurrence.
I don't think I've ever been so on the verge of crying as I was for this book.
It was so beautiful.
The VERY FIRST thing I want to address is this phrase: gay porn. I saw it in a couple of reviews for this book and I was surprised. Said reviews were mostly complaining about how much there is of it. Of how much GAY PORN there is in this book. To this, I have 2 things to say:
1. What's the problem with gay porn? Is it about the porn or about the gay or both? If you don't like smut don't fucking read smut. Okay, bestie?
2. There is zero smut in this book. Literally zero. Not one sex scene. So... where the fuck is all this gay porn??? I would've loved to see it honestly. It's funny how a deterrent for some can be an incentive for others huh?
There are scenes that have the potential to become sexual, but everything is pretty much left to your imagination. Closed-door romance, if you will. I’ve read a lot of smutty romance, a lot of MM romance, and believe me, this is nothing. So, for the angry Karen who's angrily typing away, trying to find something wrong with this book, please find a better excuse.
I'll even help you out 😉:
This book needed to be longer. The ending felt rushed and incomplete. It didn't affect my enjoyment of the book though. On the contrary, I was checking how few pages I had left and it gave me anxiety. I had so many loose ties and ten fucking pages left. The horror.
I could've used a bit more information about Tom. During the whole book, he felt like this otherworldly creature rather than a real person.
I would've loved a bit more melodrama as well (and more gay porn)🤣.
There. See? Easy criticism.
Ok I’ll stop being an angry Karen myself🤣
On a serious note though, I think the Tom thing was on purpose. We only see Tom through the perspective of others. What other people think of him, how they feel about him, and what they think he wants or feels. We never know his truth. He could hate both protagonists for all we know. I found that simply brilliant.
This book is told in a very clever way. The back and forth from perspectives and timelines was not tiring. Even in all that mess, the story was easy to follow. I loved how it required me to think, how I wasn’t told everything at every given point (which, let's face it, made for a pretty good ending overall). I loved how the story starts to fit together slowly, like a puzzle. The characters’ voices were distinct from each other and I liked both perspectives. The angst in this book is strong. So many times I felt a knot in my throat.
Loved it.
The eye-watering was real.
I don't cry while reading ok? Like ever. I've fought back tears before, but it's a rare occurrence.
I don't think I've ever been so on the verge of crying as I was for this book.
It was so beautiful.
The VERY FIRST thing I want to address is this phrase: gay porn. I saw it in a couple of reviews for this book and I was surprised. Said reviews were mostly complaining about how much there is of it. Of how much GAY PORN there is in this book. To this, I have 2 things to say:
1. What's the problem with gay porn? Is it about the porn or about the gay or both? If you don't like smut don't fucking read smut. Okay, bestie?
2. There is zero smut in this book. Literally zero. Not one sex scene. So... where the fuck is all this gay porn??? I would've loved to see it honestly. It's funny how a deterrent for some can be an incentive for others huh?
There are scenes that have the potential to become sexual, but everything is pretty much left to your imagination. Closed-door romance, if you will. I’ve read a lot of smutty romance, a lot of MM romance, and believe me, this is nothing. So, for the angry Karen who's angrily typing away, trying to find something wrong with this book, please find a better excuse.
I'll even help you out 😉:
This book needed to be longer. The ending felt rushed and incomplete. It didn't affect my enjoyment of the book though. On the contrary, I was checking how few pages I had left and it gave me anxiety. I had so many loose ties and ten fucking pages left. The horror.
I could've used a bit more information about Tom. During the whole book, he felt like this otherworldly creature rather than a real person.
I would've loved a bit more melodrama as well (and more gay porn)🤣.
There. See? Easy criticism.
Ok I’ll stop being an angry Karen myself🤣
On a serious note though, I think the Tom thing was on purpose. We only see Tom through the perspective of others. What other people think of him, how they feel about him, and what they think he wants or feels. We never know his truth. He could hate both protagonists for all we know. I found that simply brilliant.
This book is told in a very clever way. The back and forth from perspectives and timelines was not tiring. Even in all that mess, the story was easy to follow. I loved how it required me to think, how I wasn’t told everything at every given point (which, let's face it, made for a pretty good ending overall). I loved how the story starts to fit together slowly, like a puzzle. The characters’ voices were distinct from each other and I liked both perspectives. The angst in this book is strong. So many times I felt a knot in my throat.
Loved it.
September 30, 2021
5/5
Kai atėjau į knygų leidybą, turėjau labai daug jaunatvinio maksimalizmo. Versim, darysim, pamatysit! Bet reikia daug visokių detalių ir dėlionės gabaliukų perstumdyti, kad kitokioms knygoms rastume laiko, o ypač pinigų. O svarbiausia, kad rastume pasitikėjimo – tiek savimi, tiek skaitytojais. Išmėginę vandenis su „Kerol“, tik įmerkę pirštų galiukus, su „My Policeman“ nėrėm į tokį gilų skausmo vandenyną, apie kurio egzistavimą vis dar daugelis nebent nujaučia. Ši knyga buvo man padovanota – leista išsirinkti viena, kurią leisiu tiek savo nuožiūra, kiek leidžia leidyklos ribos. Jaučiuosi rami – geresnės komandos nei vertėja Jūratė Žeimantienė, redaktorė Vaiva Markevičiūtė, korektorė Gabrielė Šilobritaitė ir menininkė, kūrėja Kotryna Šeibokaitė-Ša aš nebūčiau galėjusi net susapnuoti.
Ir tikrai, ši knyga yra verta visų į ją sudėtų pastangų. Pradžia daug kam pasirodys lėtoka. Per ilga. Nereikalinga? Visgi, su kiekvienu skyriumi, kiekviena knygos dalimi virvė ant kaklo gniaužiasi vis stipriau. Turbūt užkimčiau besiginčydama su tais, kurie sakys, kad joje niekas nevyksta. Vyksta gyvenimas. Ir jame nėra laimėtojų. Nėra nei juodų, nei baltų – viskas tokiuose atspalviuose, tokiose sodriose spalvose, tokiame veikėjų pažinime, kad nei vienas neatrodo nereikšmingas, nei vienas nepasirodo nepelnytai pamirštas. Daug knygoje apgalvoto atmestinumo – jį galite dažnai išgirsti ir gyvenime, kai žmonės prisimena skausmingiausias patirtis, po visko primindami: „ai, bet kaip seniai tas buvo“. Bet tik per tokią istorinę atmintį galime mokytis vaikščioti – kaip visuomenė, o galiausiai ir kaip tiesiog empatiški žmonės – kiekvienas po vieną. Galiausiai, čia tiesiog nuostabiai, nepamirštamai reikalinga meilės istorija. Turbūt reklamščikė manyje turėtų sakyti, kad „meilės trikampis“, bet nenoriu visko nupiginti. Kampų ir tiesių, nesusikertančių niekada, arba supainiotų visiems laikams, čia tiek daug, kad pati mintyse raizgysiu dar ilgai. Linkiu raizgyti ir jums – čia toks meilės laiškas, kurio reikalingumu nė akimirkai nesudvejočiau.
Kai atėjau į knygų leidybą, turėjau labai daug jaunatvinio maksimalizmo. Versim, darysim, pamatysit! Bet reikia daug visokių detalių ir dėlionės gabaliukų perstumdyti, kad kitokioms knygoms rastume laiko, o ypač pinigų. O svarbiausia, kad rastume pasitikėjimo – tiek savimi, tiek skaitytojais. Išmėginę vandenis su „Kerol“, tik įmerkę pirštų galiukus, su „My Policeman“ nėrėm į tokį gilų skausmo vandenyną, apie kurio egzistavimą vis dar daugelis nebent nujaučia. Ši knyga buvo man padovanota – leista išsirinkti viena, kurią leisiu tiek savo nuožiūra, kiek leidžia leidyklos ribos. Jaučiuosi rami – geresnės komandos nei vertėja Jūratė Žeimantienė, redaktorė Vaiva Markevičiūtė, korektorė Gabrielė Šilobritaitė ir menininkė, kūrėja Kotryna Šeibokaitė-Ša aš nebūčiau galėjusi net susapnuoti.
Ir tikrai, ši knyga yra verta visų į ją sudėtų pastangų. Pradžia daug kam pasirodys lėtoka. Per ilga. Nereikalinga? Visgi, su kiekvienu skyriumi, kiekviena knygos dalimi virvė ant kaklo gniaužiasi vis stipriau. Turbūt užkimčiau besiginčydama su tais, kurie sakys, kad joje niekas nevyksta. Vyksta gyvenimas. Ir jame nėra laimėtojų. Nėra nei juodų, nei baltų – viskas tokiuose atspalviuose, tokiose sodriose spalvose, tokiame veikėjų pažinime, kad nei vienas neatrodo nereikšmingas, nei vienas nepasirodo nepelnytai pamirštas. Daug knygoje apgalvoto atmestinumo – jį galite dažnai išgirsti ir gyvenime, kai žmonės prisimena skausmingiausias patirtis, po visko primindami: „ai, bet kaip seniai tas buvo“. Bet tik per tokią istorinę atmintį galime mokytis vaikščioti – kaip visuomenė, o galiausiai ir kaip tiesiog empatiški žmonės – kiekvienas po vieną. Galiausiai, čia tiesiog nuostabiai, nepamirštamai reikalinga meilės istorija. Turbūt reklamščikė manyje turėtų sakyti, kad „meilės trikampis“, bet nenoriu visko nupiginti. Kampų ir tiesių, nesusikertančių niekada, arba supainiotų visiems laikams, čia tiek daug, kad pati mintyse raizgysiu dar ilgai. Linkiu raizgyti ir jums – čia toks meilės laiškas, kurio reikalingumu nė akimirkai nesudvejočiau.
August 15, 2021
Audio - 5 Stars
Story - 4.5 Stars
I'll never understand why the people sharing the one person in a love triangle give that person so much freedom and power over them. Why do they love that person so much??
Story - 4.5 Stars
I'll never understand why the people sharing the one person in a love triangle give that person so much freedom and power over them. Why do they love that person so much??
September 27, 2022
Una buena historia. A secas.
Es un libro entretenido y poco más. No hay nada diferente en él más allá de mostrar las relaciones que entablan los personajes principales y darles un tono profundamente melancólico y triste en la medida en que vamos conociendo los puntos de vista de Marion y Patrick. Es un relato testimonial de dos personajes girando siempre alrededor del mismo hombre de manera patética y con los que no pude empatizar en lo más mínimo porque la voz narrativa me parecía muy poco profunda y no dejaba entrever del todo las emociones de ellos. Y es que precisamente no es ni la mitad de emocional que debería ser pero admito que se lee rápido y eso le suma puntos, al menos no hay que invertirle tanto tiempo.
Lo que yo resaltaría de esta lectura es el buen reflejo que hace de una sociedad donde abunda de manera exorbitante la misoginia, el machismo, el sexismo y por supuesto la homofobia. Tampoco es que las cosas hayan cambiado de manera abismal a día de hoy pero como retrato de sociedad sirve mucho. Está bien logrado. Ahora, si eres de los que no les va historias con mucha carga dramática que gira en torno a intereses amorosos y encima protagonizada por un trío de personajes poco empáticos los unos con los otros, además de egoístas, patéticos y rozando ya la vergüenza ajena, pues no lo leas. Definitivamente.
Me ha gustado el concepto de matrimonio y como refleja el estado de cada uno de ellos y su propia concepción del tema. Por un lado, Marion se aferra con fuerza a la idea de casarse lo más pronto posible, porque vamos, no vaya a ser que se quede como la típica señora que vive sola en la casa con más de cuatro gatos haciéndole compañía. Sería una desgracia y más para la edad que tiene y la presión social sobre ella. Tom busca el matrimonio por presión también (culpa del mismo machismo instaurado en la sociedad), solo que lo suyo es como un contrato, ya que el matrimonio solo es un disfraz para ocultar su homosexualidad. Y por último Patrick, que si bien no se adapta o acepta ese tipo de convenciones sociales sufre muchísimo al contentarse con migajas y no poder estar al lado de la persona que podría ser el amor de su vida.
Me gusta además que el mismo Patrick admita en cierto punto estar en modo depredador, cazando una nueva presa porque muestra un poco lo me hace sentir y pensar de muchas de las relaciones con diferencia de edad. Donde uno de los implicados es joven, sensible y obviamente más inexperto ante el otro, que admite casi inconsciente su abuso de poder ya que sabe cuando hablar, cuando callar, cuando hacerle sentir en confianza. En fin, que sabe medir cada uno de sus pasos para poder conocerlo a fondo y no espantarlo.
Y Marion, un personaje que edulcora en extremo su alrededor y se niega a ver las cosas a tiempo por vivir en una burbuja que de la nada puede explotar terriblemente. Marion es el reflejo de una mujer que romantiza la idea romántica del amor, alguien que endiosa su muy posible interés amoroso y al que se niega verle algún defecto, además de creer que lo conoce de pe a pa y concentrarlo en un estado de perfección absoluta. Además de que hace cosas moralmente cuestionables cosa que la hace aún más compleja.
El último es Tom, que sirve más como el objeto de deseo y conflicto central que hace sucumbir a Marion y Patrick, además de que en vez de ser humanizado por estos se ve en un estado de completa adoración y perfeccionismo al que obviamente no pertenece. En fin, que hasta yo lo odié un poquito más que a los otros dos, y eso que también dejan mucho que desear.
P. D.: este es el segundo libro que me destripa cruelmente el final de Anna Karenina, así que si alguien pretende leer ese libro que sepa de antemano el spoiler importante que se puede llevar.
Es un libro entretenido y poco más. No hay nada diferente en él más allá de mostrar las relaciones que entablan los personajes principales y darles un tono profundamente melancólico y triste en la medida en que vamos conociendo los puntos de vista de Marion y Patrick. Es un relato testimonial de dos personajes girando siempre alrededor del mismo hombre de manera patética y con los que no pude empatizar en lo más mínimo porque la voz narrativa me parecía muy poco profunda y no dejaba entrever del todo las emociones de ellos. Y es que precisamente no es ni la mitad de emocional que debería ser pero admito que se lee rápido y eso le suma puntos, al menos no hay que invertirle tanto tiempo.
Lo que yo resaltaría de esta lectura es el buen reflejo que hace de una sociedad donde abunda de manera exorbitante la misoginia, el machismo, el sexismo y por supuesto la homofobia. Tampoco es que las cosas hayan cambiado de manera abismal a día de hoy pero como retrato de sociedad sirve mucho. Está bien logrado. Ahora, si eres de los que no les va historias con mucha carga dramática que gira en torno a intereses amorosos y encima protagonizada por un trío de personajes poco empáticos los unos con los otros, además de egoístas, patéticos y rozando ya la vergüenza ajena, pues no lo leas. Definitivamente.
Me ha gustado el concepto de matrimonio y como refleja el estado de cada uno de ellos y su propia concepción del tema. Por un lado, Marion se aferra con fuerza a la idea de casarse lo más pronto posible, porque vamos, no vaya a ser que se quede como la típica señora que vive sola en la casa con más de cuatro gatos haciéndole compañía. Sería una desgracia y más para la edad que tiene y la presión social sobre ella. Tom busca el matrimonio por presión también (culpa del mismo machismo instaurado en la sociedad), solo que lo suyo es como un contrato, ya que el matrimonio solo es un disfraz para ocultar su homosexualidad. Y por último Patrick, que si bien no se adapta o acepta ese tipo de convenciones sociales sufre muchísimo al contentarse con migajas y no poder estar al lado de la persona que podría ser el amor de su vida.
Me gusta además que el mismo Patrick admita en cierto punto estar en modo depredador, cazando una nueva presa porque muestra un poco lo me hace sentir y pensar de muchas de las relaciones con diferencia de edad. Donde uno de los implicados es joven, sensible y obviamente más inexperto ante el otro, que admite casi inconsciente su abuso de poder ya que sabe cuando hablar, cuando callar, cuando hacerle sentir en confianza. En fin, que sabe medir cada uno de sus pasos para poder conocerlo a fondo y no espantarlo.
Y Marion, un personaje que edulcora en extremo su alrededor y se niega a ver las cosas a tiempo por vivir en una burbuja que de la nada puede explotar terriblemente. Marion es el reflejo de una mujer que romantiza la idea romántica del amor, alguien que endiosa su muy posible interés amoroso y al que se niega verle algún defecto, además de creer que lo conoce de pe a pa y concentrarlo en un estado de perfección absoluta. Además de que hace cosas moralmente cuestionables cosa que la hace aún más compleja.
El último es Tom, que sirve más como el objeto de deseo y conflicto central que hace sucumbir a Marion y Patrick, además de que en vez de ser humanizado por estos se ve en un estado de completa adoración y perfeccionismo al que obviamente no pertenece. En fin, que hasta yo lo odié un poquito más que a los otros dos, y eso que también dejan mucho que desear.
P. D.: este es el segundo libro que me destripa cruelmente el final de Anna Karenina, así que si alguien pretende leer ese libro que sepa de antemano el spoiler importante que se puede llevar.
April 11, 2021
it was amazing!! at first, i wasn't liking it as much cuz it wasn't too exciting, but then i realized that it didn't have to be exciting, and the ending really tied up all the loose ends. my only problem would probably be that it wasn't specified as to who was narrating, and in the beginning I'd be reading from one person's perspective and find out it was another person, but I got used to the switches. it would've been helpful to title the chapters with 'Marion' or 'Patrick'.
the book all in all is a solid 4.5 stars
want to read this for reasons known as ✨harry styles✨
the book all in all is a solid 4.5 stars
want to read this for reasons known as ✨harry styles✨
May 8, 2021
DNF
others have said it better than i could, but this is a novel written by a straight woman for straight women to voyeuristically revel in gay men’s trauma. so much of it, i quickly realized, reads like fanfiction, and that probably isn’t a coincidence. the only interest this author has in her gay characters is how sexy she seems to find “forbidden romance” — that is, of course, until she decides to narratively punish her gay characters for that very same romance she finds so alluring.
i gave up with about sixty pages to go, but i know the ending and it isn’t worth it to continue. this is the kind of novel straight people will pat themselves on the back for having read, but for gay people it’s just disappointing and re-traumatizing. it couldn’t be more clear who the intended audience for this is once you realize the only lesbian in the novel is a vaguely-defined “fun friend” who wears pants and only exists to teach marion a very important lesson about homophobia before completely vanishing from the plot. the fact that tom and patrick’s trip to venice, the only moment of calm and happiness they get to share together, is barely mentioned at all, and that the author decides to show us scenes of attempted conversion therapy and gay bashing instead should be very telling. this novel is interested in gay people only as props, or as fetishistic objects of desire.
it’s 2021. we can do better than this.
others have said it better than i could, but this is a novel written by a straight woman for straight women to voyeuristically revel in gay men’s trauma. so much of it, i quickly realized, reads like fanfiction, and that probably isn’t a coincidence. the only interest this author has in her gay characters is how sexy she seems to find “forbidden romance” — that is, of course, until she decides to narratively punish her gay characters for that very same romance she finds so alluring.
i gave up with about sixty pages to go, but i know the ending and it isn’t worth it to continue. this is the kind of novel straight people will pat themselves on the back for having read, but for gay people it’s just disappointing and re-traumatizing. it couldn’t be more clear who the intended audience for this is once you realize the only lesbian in the novel is a vaguely-defined “fun friend” who wears pants and only exists to teach marion a very important lesson about homophobia before completely vanishing from the plot. the fact that tom and patrick’s trip to venice, the only moment of calm and happiness they get to share together, is barely mentioned at all, and that the author decides to show us scenes of attempted conversion therapy and gay bashing instead should be very telling. this novel is interested in gay people only as props, or as fetishistic objects of desire.
it’s 2021. we can do better than this.
November 26, 2022
5 Stars
November 3, 2021
New review, 11/22:
Rating upped to a full 5 stars.
Even though I only read this a year ago, I wanted to reread it after seeing the terrific film adaptation. I needn't have worried about my final query in the original review - the film more than does the book justice, and in fact, might be one of those rare cases when the film is slightly even better. Oddly, the film follows the story rather closely, but there are only a few scenes taken verbatim from the book. What's missing from the film is the dual perspectives of the two narrators, but that is more than made up for by the uniformly excellent characterizations by virtually the entire cast (yes, even Mr. Styles), in particular Gina McKee as the older Marion. Now that I've reread the book, I'll have to go back and watch the film again also!
Original review, 11/21
4.5, rounded up.
Yes, I only become aware of this due to its 'Soon to be a Major Motion Picture' status [sidenote: has any book ever claimed it was soon to be a MINOR m.p.?], but it was the plotline that drew me in, NOT Mr. Styles (who I don't think I have ever seen perform - if I HAVE, he was totally forgettable). Regardless, I found the book to be an extremely well-done character study - with just the precise amount of period detail and psychological acuity. The book alternates between sections narrated by the two paramours of the titular character - his wife Marion and his male lover Patrick, and Roberts does an excellent job of providing two entirely different styles for each - something that seems to elude most authors who try that methodology. I was invested from the start, and must admit to getting a bit misty eyed at the ending, sentimental fool that I am. Hope the film does it justice.
Rating upped to a full 5 stars.
Even though I only read this a year ago, I wanted to reread it after seeing the terrific film adaptation. I needn't have worried about my final query in the original review - the film more than does the book justice, and in fact, might be one of those rare cases when the film is slightly even better. Oddly, the film follows the story rather closely, but there are only a few scenes taken verbatim from the book. What's missing from the film is the dual perspectives of the two narrators, but that is more than made up for by the uniformly excellent characterizations by virtually the entire cast (yes, even Mr. Styles), in particular Gina McKee as the older Marion. Now that I've reread the book, I'll have to go back and watch the film again also!
Original review, 11/21
4.5, rounded up.
Yes, I only become aware of this due to its 'Soon to be a Major Motion Picture' status [sidenote: has any book ever claimed it was soon to be a MINOR m.p.?], but it was the plotline that drew me in, NOT Mr. Styles (who I don't think I have ever seen perform - if I HAVE, he was totally forgettable). Regardless, I found the book to be an extremely well-done character study - with just the precise amount of period detail and psychological acuity. The book alternates between sections narrated by the two paramours of the titular character - his wife Marion and his male lover Patrick, and Roberts does an excellent job of providing two entirely different styles for each - something that seems to elude most authors who try that methodology. I was invested from the start, and must admit to getting a bit misty eyed at the ending, sentimental fool that I am. Hope the film does it justice.
November 14, 2022
Marion zasługiwała na więcej
March 27, 2014
This book seemed to promise a lot but ended up being merely the same old rehash of themes raised in movies such as 'Making Love'. The policeman (deeply closeted with internalised homophobia' was supposed to be the great love object for the woman and the older gay man - but his character was so unlikeable to me that I could not work out why in heaven's were these two so obsessed by him anyways (apart from his physical assets of course). Of greater reading interest was the dynamic between the wife and the lover ... which was done fairly well but could have been explored so much more - in the end, I felt the policeman himself was almost unnecessary. This book had glowing reviews too - but as a gay reader, I was quite disappointed.
April 28, 2021
4.8/5
READ BY HARRY STYLES
In Bethan Roberts's latest novel, 'my' is the most important word. Possessive, nigh-obsessive, her narrative constantly questions the notion of having anyone. Told through Marion's marriage to Tom, Roberts's story deftly unfolds the contradictions and hypocrisies of pre-Wolfenden Britain. But what starts out as a bitter memoir becomes a truly insightful tale.
“It's easy to become very focused, I've found, on such small things. Especially when every day is the same”
Set in Brighton in the late 1950s, it's hard to believe how much attitudes towards the LGBTQ+ community have changed for the better. It's physically painful to read. Marion, a young teacher falls in love with Tom, her best friend's handsome older brother. When he asks her to marry him she is overjoyed, despite hints that he is "not like that" and his close friendship with Patrick, a cultured museum curator.
“You were looking at Tom without smiling, with an expression of deep absorption. You considered him, in the same way, that others in the room considering the displays”
Roberts's attention to detail of period and place creates a beautiful picture of mid-20th century Brighton, full of allusions that are instantly recognizable to anyone who's lived there or visited. This merely adds to the pleasure of this novel. The narrative alternates between the voices of Marion and Patrick and gives a real sense of the excitement and pain involved in falling in love, especially love which is forbidden. At times Marion's obliviousness seems unbelievable, but her dawning realization of the truth and her reactions to this feel gut-wrenchingly true to life.
"Because Tom and the older man loved each other very much...They loved each other. Tom's pride and his fear stopped him from ever seeing the man again. Despite this, the man went on loving him. He will always love him...He will always love him."
READ BY HARRY STYLES
In Bethan Roberts's latest novel, 'my' is the most important word. Possessive, nigh-obsessive, her narrative constantly questions the notion of having anyone. Told through Marion's marriage to Tom, Roberts's story deftly unfolds the contradictions and hypocrisies of pre-Wolfenden Britain. But what starts out as a bitter memoir becomes a truly insightful tale.
“It's easy to become very focused, I've found, on such small things. Especially when every day is the same”
Set in Brighton in the late 1950s, it's hard to believe how much attitudes towards the LGBTQ+ community have changed for the better. It's physically painful to read. Marion, a young teacher falls in love with Tom, her best friend's handsome older brother. When he asks her to marry him she is overjoyed, despite hints that he is "not like that" and his close friendship with Patrick, a cultured museum curator.
“You were looking at Tom without smiling, with an expression of deep absorption. You considered him, in the same way, that others in the room considering the displays”
Roberts's attention to detail of period and place creates a beautiful picture of mid-20th century Brighton, full of allusions that are instantly recognizable to anyone who's lived there or visited. This merely adds to the pleasure of this novel. The narrative alternates between the voices of Marion and Patrick and gives a real sense of the excitement and pain involved in falling in love, especially love which is forbidden. At times Marion's obliviousness seems unbelievable, but her dawning realization of the truth and her reactions to this feel gut-wrenchingly true to life.
"Because Tom and the older man loved each other very much...They loved each other. Tom's pride and his fear stopped him from ever seeing the man again. Despite this, the man went on loving him. He will always love him...He will always love him."
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