“Sometimes we are so consumed by the flame, burning so painfully in its heat, that we can’t see the utter gorgeousness of the fire.” This final line of Rakesh Satyal’s shimmering coming of age story, Blue Boy, captures the experience of reading the book in beautiful shorthand. The book chronicles the life of twelve-year-old Kirtan as he struggles with his Indian-American identity, gender expression, and burgeoning sexuality. In some ways the book is an odd mix of genres; at times it feels like a sweet, sassy young adult book, at other times it sits squarely in the adult gay fiction world. Somehow this ends up contributing to the narrative arc of the tale, however, since Kirtan himself see-saws between playing with his beloved Strawberry Shortcake doll, experimenting with his mother’s makeup and clothes, and stealing a Penthouse magazine while shopping with his mother at the mall. This is a story about a gay boy who is thrown into the fire of adolescence with few resources to help him through it all but his own wit, style, and gorgeous flamboyance.
The story is set in Suburban Ohio in the 1990s. Kirtan lives a rather schizophrenic life, alternating between weekdays spent at his mostly non-Indian school and weekends spent with his parents and their extended community of Indian immigrants. Both cultures have their own rigid ways of enforcing gender roles and sexuality, and neither knows quite what to do with a flaming, smart boy who is slow to self-censure. As the story progresses, Kirtan increasingly identifies with Lord Krishna, the elegant, blue, shining incarnation of Vishnu. This connection to something uniquely Indian helps him survive the cruelty and fickleness of the few friends he has at school. As the story works up to the dramatic denouement – the school talent show – Kirtan literally begins to see himself as a reincarnation of the Blue God, with tragic, but ultimately redemptive consequences. His hubris pushes him to burn hotter, be utterly himself, and ultimately renounce any claim to “normalcy.” By the last page of the book, it is clear that this is an absolutely necessary, right, and liberating moment in his young life.
There are some vividly rendered scenes in this book, the kind that stay with you for days and seem more like scenes from a big screen movie than echoes of words on a page. “Bollywood Noir,” if I had to name the genre. There is the scene in the park when Kirtan inadvertently stumbles upon three teenagers having raunchy sex, the weekend party at the home of family friends when Kirtan is outed in front of everyone for playing with makeup, and the climactic talent show scene. These, and many other smaller moments in the story leave a lasting impression, so well are they rendered by Satyal’s prose.
There are a few aspects of the book that I found challenging. Kirtan narrates the story, but the voice is not particularly believable as that of even the most precocious, gifted twelve-year-old. His command of language, wisdom about life, and subtle wit are clearly those of a much older narrator. This distraction is easy to ignore, however, given the sheer pleasure of the tale and how expertly the plot pulls you in and keeps you engaged. The other part of the story that I struggled with is the role of the somewhat shady Rodney, a park ranger who makes cameo appearances in a few key moments in the story. Rodney is clearly a part of Kirtan’s sexual awakening – but the way the narrative is constructed it is impossible to know what, if anything, actually happened between the man and the boy. For obvious reasons, this is disturbing. By the end of the book, however, I was willing to assume that he was there largely as a cipher – a sexy, older, deep-voiced grown-up on whom Kirtan was able to project his emerging desires. As such, he is a sympathetic and beautiful addition to this shimmering story of a boy learning how to not only accept who he is, but glory in his many, fabulous gifts.