The Backlot Gay Book Forum discussion

The Music of What Happens
By Bill Konigsberg
Arthur A. Levine Books, 2019
Five stars

“The Music of What Happens” is a tiny epic, exquisitely crafted, covering only a month in the life of Max Morrison and Jordan Edwards, two very different gay boys, one hot Arizona summer.

The classic YA trope is that Max is a jock, big and muscular, while Jordan is slender and graceful. The reversal of this trope is that both boys are out to their best friends – two other baseball players for Max, two snarky girls for Jordan. Coming out is not the issue here; coping with life is. These boys and their friends are a racially mixed crew, which allows the author to explore those realities in clever and meaningful ways through the kids’ often hilarious banter. These two triads of teenagers are miniature Greek choruses, giving Jordan and Max both sounding boards and sources for their personal pain.

The central plot arc is a grimy food truck that Jordan’s widowed mother Lydia is trying to resurrect in order to stave off losing their house. Max decides to sign on as a helper when he happens across the food truck while avoiding his mother, Rosa, who is on the warpath because of his staying out overnight the night before. Max sees working on a food truck as an escape from the tedious clerical job his mother has assigned him as punishment for his behavior; but he also is fascinated by Jordan, and hopes to get to know this creative, quiet kid better.

Parents are critical in this story, something I especially appreciate in YA fiction. That doesn’t mean that the parents are saintly or wise. Parental failure is key here, as well as parental love. Love is not a solution in this world. It is necessary, for sure, but it guarantees nothing.

Very early in the book Max narrates: “I came away realizing I had powers I didn’t know I had: I was a freakin’ warrior.” For all that this seems like an affirmation, the author and the narrative gradually bring us to the realization that this is a fallacy, a smokescreen designed to deny feelings that themselves would reveal something profoundly damaging. Both Max and Jordan are in denial, and neither one of them understands it. Being strong is what boys – even gay boys – are taught, and that gets in the way of self-understanding.

Jordan and Max are attracted to each other, but also see each other as alien creatures that they don’t understand and don’t know how to deal with. For much of the story, the boys circle each other, trying to figure out what they’re dealing with. This is handled charmingly and with great humor, as each boy brings his puzzlement back to his best friends for discussion and judgment. By the time any sort of overt physical interaction happens, they’ve already gone past their basic attraction to each other. I don’t mean it’s over, but that their friendship has evolved to the point where they are able to truly see each other. This, in the end, makes all the difference, and transforms Konigsberg’s book from a teen romance to a coming of age story that seems quietly Wagnerian in its emotional power.

No spoilers, but the first 80 percent of the book is the build up to a crescendo that brings both Jordan and Max’s back stories to a head. This is where the book’s title comes into play, weaving a line from a poem into a complex and poignant finale.