My Semi-Fictional Life #113 (Giovanni’s Room Didn’t Make Me Gay)

I’m disappointed. This book failed to deliver.

Buh-buh-but E.! You gave it five stars.

Shuddup, random person on the internet. You have no power here!

But how can you give it five stars if it failed?

Because it didn’t make me gay.

Oh, okay. Wait… what?

It failed in making me gay. Homosexual, if you will. I do not, after having read this book, find men sexually attractive. Well, there is Johnny Depp. That’s one pretty man. But, overall, I’m still, like, 99.9% straight.

What the fuck are you talking about?

Even after having read this book, I cannot, for the life of me, choose to be gay. And who wouldn’t want to be gay. Come on! But it’s not working. I mean, I should be just jonesing for penis right now, right?

That’s… that’s not how it works…

Here, random person possibly growing more and more offended with every line of this false dialogue (psssst… it’s actually just me talking to myself. I bet you’re shocked. I know, right!), let me explain.

Whiny bitches from a bygone age found this book disgusting and felt sure that it would spread the GAY AGENDA! Some felt that, just by reading this novel, you’d fall into a nest of vipers and partake in lurid booty sex with all the mens. Just reading this text could brainwash you into needing the D, especially if you, yourself, were in possession of some D. What was the general public to do?

I keep hearing how whiny and triggered this new generation is today, but when you look back at the “good ol’ days”, you find that previous generations were scared of fucking EVERYTHING: gay people and women and commies and invisible men. Hell, some of these fools are still scared of all that. And Tom Cruise forbid your skin color is darker than Elmer’s glue. How can old folks have been so terrified of such silly misconceptions but then turn around and call today’s young people “too sensitive”? Get the fuck outta here, ya muppets.

Giovanni’s Room is a terrific novel that follows an American in France. Our narrator’s fiance has gone off to find herself and left him behind. He falls into a crowd of eccentrics, and ends up having a love affair with a man named Giovanni. The book is beautifully written. Some of the best, if not the best writing I’ve come across. Every word builds on the next, changing prose into music. Absolutely gorgeous. The level of word mastery on display here is awe inspiring. It will be a pleasure, I have no doubt, going through this author’s back catalog.

The only complaint I have are some ideas used that devalue women. Hella (the narrator’s fiance) says at one point that all women are good for is getting pregnant and the narrator agrees. Giovanni and the narrator also have discussions on the uselessness of women. Didn’t much care for that, but I couldn’t tell if it was author intrusion or the character’s personal beliefs. Because it wasn’t obvious which, I’m not deducting any stars.

Also, I call this guy “the narrator” because he’s called both David and Butch in the book. Butch could’ve been a nickname, though, because only his father called him that. Unless I missed something. If that’s the case, let me know in the comments.

In summation: Giovanni’s Room won’t make you gay, but it will break your heart. If you love beautiful writing and touching stories, give it a try. My highest possible recommendation.

Final Judgment: More James Baldwin now, please.

 

See you tomorrow,

E.

Pic of the Day

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One thought on “My Semi-Fictional Life #113 (Giovanni’s Room Didn’t Make Me Gay)

  1. As a decidedly gay guy, sounds like I need to check this one out pronto. Thanks for the excellent review. ๐Ÿ™‚

    Might I recommend A SINGLE MAN by Christopher Isherwood? It also explores the LGBT lifestyle and was certainly ahead of its time. It was one of my favorite reads of 2016.

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