A Report from Winter by Wayne Courtois

TITLE: A Report from Winter
AUTHOR: Wayne Courtois
PUBLISHER: Lethe Press
LENGTH: Novel (roughly 54k)
GENRE: Gay memoir
COST: $15.00

In January 1998, Wayne Courtois returned to Portland, Maine, the home of his youth, after a ten-year absence to sit at the bedside of his dying mother in the last week of her life. This is the account of that last week…

NOTE: This is a review originally written for The Electric Elephant. Due to the nature of the book, I didn't do my usual scoring rubric, though in comparison to other books I've reviewed, I'd place it firmly in the upper end of the 41-45 range.

Memoirs are sometimes difficult things to read. When done well, they can often cut too close to the bone, creating a schism amongst a reader’s reactions. When done poorly, they are just like any other genre and end up getting dismissed as self-indulgent, or a waste of reading time. A Report from Winter falls into the former category, and while the subject matter of a parent’s death might not necessarily lend itself to casual reading, the writer’s keen, stark prose and decidedly unidealistic approach to the people in his life more than make it worthwhile.

In a lot of ways, Wayne is everyman. He’s not good-looking, he comfort eats, he’s insecure. He avoids problems and confrontations as long as he can, and though his aunt and brother have been saying for a while that he really needs to come see his mother since her health is failing, he keeps finding excuses not to go. Until it’s almost too late. He arrives in Portland in the middle of a storm, and struggles to find the B&B he’s booked for himself. From there, his journey of the next week begins. He has to face his mother who no longer can communicate except in wordless sounds nobody can make out, his aunt who was once his favorite relative and is now a reminder of what he left behind, and his brother who he never really liked but whose approval he always craved. It’s family, like so many families found in real life, not the plasticine presentations often found in fiction. These people can be cold and mean, selfish and bitter, as well as display the occasional flash of sympathy and ungrudging affection. Including Wayne.

That’s not to imply that the book is mean-spirited. It’s evident from the start, even when Wayne is detailing his family’s flaws, that there is an undercurrent of love, a wish for some kind of connection with them that he’s never really been able to make. Part of that stems from being a gay man in a family where it was never brought up, though his uneasy relationship with his brother – who is also gay – has its own causes. Still, even when he presents them in less than flattering light, there is no denying his attempts to try and keep it balanced. He doesn’t play favorites. His presentation of self is just as unfanciful, and it’s this honesty, combined with his careful, insightful descriptions, that draws the reader in.

Courtois succeeds where other authors might falter due to his discerning prose. Details are glorious. He depicts the Portland winter in vivid clarity, making it impossible not to feel the icy chill even when you’re sitting in the middle of a heat wave in California. He paints his time with his mother in sensitive, though painful, colors. It’s evocative passages like this that make it impossible to put down: Later in the afternoon, after Louise had gone home to rest and I was alone with my mother, she started trying to speak again. It was like helplessly watching a drowning person fail to reach the surface. Her discolored eyes were open, staring straight upward; she choked on vowels, her lips stretched as wide as her toothless mouth would allow. I held her hand, barely touching the bruised flesh, and stroked her hair, patted her forehead – none of it having any effect, as if we were in separate scenes superimposed on each other. Later, after he’s finally broken down and called his partner Ralph back in Kansas City to ask him to come, we get to see a different side to it all, a healthier perspective on his life and approach to his family. Much of that credit goes to Ralph, and the balance he brings to Wayne’s life. Their relationship is flawed, much like everybody’s is, but there’s genuine love and respect there that provides hope when it might be lacking elsewhere.

But in the end, this isn’t about Ralph, or his mother, or his aunt or brother. This is about Wayne, and the path he travels that last week before his mother dies. It isn’t all neatly tied up in a bow, but then again, life isn’t. It does, however, offer a humane, poignant presentation of a man simply trying to get through each day as best he can. The obvious metaphor of the bleak winter with his childhood doesn’t hold it back. It makes it richer, by reminding us that part of suffering the winter is the comfort we get by seeking out warmth, especially with others.

The Phoenix by Ruth Sims

TITLE: The Phoenix
AUTHOR: Ruth Sims
PUBLISHER: Lethe Press
LENGTH: Novel (roughly 125k)
GENRE: Gay historical romance
COST: $18.00 (print), $9.00 (e-book from ARe)

Kit St. Denys wasn’t born with a silver spoon in his mouth, but from the time he turns on his abusive father, all he wants to do is escape his past. He forges a new existence in the theater, becoming one of the most celebrated actors in London. It’s there he catches the eye of a young Puritan doctor. The relationship Nick and Kit share spans years, continents, lifetimes. It’s never easy, but for them, it’s always worth it…

As the title suggests, this is a story of rebirth, not just of the obvious primary character of Kit, but of his lover and sometime companion Nick. Rich with historical detail, it spans both their lifetimes, opening in the slums of London and Kit – then Jack Rourke – as he struggles to balance his dreams with his reality. The situation gets forced when his abusive father goes too far, and his subsequent “adoption” by the stage actress he’s befriended is just the first of his many transformations. Nick’s aren’t quite as dramatic. He is born in the country, to a country doctor, and told early on he will be following in his father’s footsteps. A natural healer, Nick has no problems with that, except for the fact that he’s not content to cater to their small community, complete with veterinary requirements. He wants more – more education, more chances to help – and his escape to London is the first major change he enacts upon his life.

This theme of constantly reinventing themselves hangs over the entire novel. Every time something crucial occurs in their lives, Nick or Kit takes a radical left turn. This makes for a lot of twists and turns, some of them quite melodramatic, more than one a tad over the top. While they fit with the way the characters are painted, after a while, it becomes a tad too much, especially when some of the choices don’t necessarily help me like the characters any more. Kit, especially, suffers from this. While I never doubted the realization of the character for a second, I can’t say that I actually liked him very much once he hit his late teens. Some of the selfishness of his choices, and his egocentricity, while appropriate both for the fact that he’s an actor and learned at an early age to fend for himself, don’t necessarily endear him to me, especially since I cared for Nick so much more. When Kit behaves badly and then turns on Nick when Nick dares to be upset by it, I was ready for Nick to walk out for good. The fact that that happened only a third into the story, however, meant they still had a very long road ahead of them.

The novel is written in 3^rd person omniscient, which has the unfortunate effect of distancing me emotionally from the characters. This is a trait specific to me; I know of plenty of readers who have little problem engaging in this perspective. For me, however, the constant shift of headspace – to minor characters as well as the two primaries – yanks me out of the moment, and reminds me that I’m reading a story rather than experiencing it. While I still felt for what was happening within the context of the novel, I was never immersed in it, which is one of the biggest things that separate good reads from great ones for me.

What I did get immersed in, though, was the setting. Every place in this is gorgeously drawn, whether it’s dark and ugly or bright and shiny. It contributes to the saga feel of the story, and broadens the scope of its appeal. There’s never any question of where I am, or when, and that helps to root me within the story when sometimes the characters frustrated me. It’s a rich reading experience. Readers who enjoy historicals, especially long, involved ones, will likely love it.

Readability	8/10 – 3rd person omniscient is not my favorite narrative form, and while there was a definite flow, it often pulled me from immersing with the characters and emotions
Hero #1	6/10 – Selfish, even though he’s fully realized
Hero #2	7/10 – I empathized more with Nick from the moment he was introduced
Entertainment value	7/10 – In spite of sometimes being annoyed by the selfish behavior and some of the melodramatic twists, I was engaged
World building	10/10 – A lot of very believable detail that leaves no doubt of any of the worlds the characters inhabit
TOTAL:	38/50

Whistling in the Dark by Tamara Allen

TITLE: Whistling in the Dark
AUTHOR: Tamara Allen
PUBLISHER: Lethe Press
LENGTH: Novel (roughly 106k)
GENRE: Gay historical romance
COST: $8.00 (ebook at AllRomance eBooks), $14.58 print

Sutton Albright searches for a new life for himself in New York City. Getting wounded in battle cost him his future in music, then getting discovered as a homosexual cost him his college career. He’s at the end of his limits when he stumbles upon a job as an errand boy for a small diner, but the world in which he finds himself thrust offers new hope, new life, new choices. Jack Bailey is at the center of that new world order – gregarious, charming, quicksilver. On the surface, they don’t have much in common, but the world is changing, and unsurprisingly, so are they…

I’m the first to admit that historicals are not my preferred genre, but if I had to pick an era/place that does tend to work for me more often than not, it’s the first half of the 20^th century in the US. I usually gravitate toward forties noir-type stories, but earlier periods work, too. Simply put, Whistling in the Dark is one of the best examples of historical romance that works for me that I’ve yet to find in ebooks.

There is a melancholy nostalgia to the story, in the pacing, in the prose, in the plot. Like the world the story depicts, the lives of the characters stand on the brink of change, propelled forward by passions they can’t contain and desires they don’t wish to ignore. Sutton grieves for his music, and when he is given the opportunity to play again, there is an innocent joy about his newfound fervor that is in a lot of ways representative of the period. Jack is the more jaded of the two, but he, too, has an innocence to him that would be impossible to realistically find in modern settings. Together, they dance along, trying not to miss a step. The fusion of their lives creates something new and wondrous, and it’s a credit to the author that it’s as seamless as it is.

Surrounding Jack and Sutton is a wealth of memorable characters, from the adorable Ox to the irrepressible Theo. Part of the reason I’m sure I got swept up in this is how easily I believed almost every personality. When Jack and his buddies swing through their nights in search of a few moments of fun, I joined them, totally and utterly. It was a completely immersive read; half the time, I felt I was sitting next to Theo, watching and joking with him as the events unfolded.

There is nothing graphic in the romance, so anyone looking for eroticism will be disappointed. What there is, however, is plenty of genuine emotion. Friendship. Camaraderie. Need. Hurt. It’s never too heavy, never too histrionic. Jack is all about false fronts when the story opens, laughing and joking his way through life and its problems, so it takes a little bit longer to get a true feel for him than it does Sutton. But when you do, it’s just as rich and satisfying. His growth in the latter half of the story made it impossible for me to put the book down. I absolutely had to sit and find out just what each of these young men were going to do for each other, how they were going to be made more simply through their association.

The hardest part about finishing this story was being jerked back into the present. I was that absorbed into the setting. It’s a heartwarming, endearing read, reminiscent of innocence long gone, and sets the bar high for others in its genre. Correction. In any genre.

Readability	9/10 – With the exception of the ending going on too long, it still amazes me that this was over 100k for as immersed as I got into it.
Hero	9/10 – The romantic in me wants to hold Sutton close and keep him safe
Hero	8/10 – It takes a little bit longer to get a real bead on Jack, but when you do, it sticks.
Entertainment value	9/10 – Until the ending that seemed to go too long, I was lost in this world and these men’s lives.
World building	10/10 – This is how I like my historical writing – deft, immersive, so unobtrusive you don’t even realize you’ve disappeared into the scene until you have to re-emerge
TOTAL:	45/50