First, an apology. I have unknowingly mischaracterized some books in my reviews. Specifically, I referred to The Night Listener and Allan Stein as books that dwelled in pedophilia. In fact, they are books that dwell in pederasty. The difference is a question of age; the younger of a pederast encounter is pubescent, probably sex-aware, not necessarily a virgin, and certainly in this case, capable of initiating the encounter himself. Since legalese prefers black and white over shades of gray, the law must draw a line in the sand somewhere. Ostensibly, the degree to which a person below the age of majority can be abused by sex with an adult ought to decline as one reaches 18. This assumes, of course, that the same encounter, played out between two adults, would be considered healthy.
That said, the question that lingers at the end of this book is, is the 15-year-old Noah abused by his relationship with the 25-year-old Tracy? I don’t believe so. I believe that Noah is far more scarred from his upbringing at the hands of his father, a very what-you-see-is-what-you-get business tycoon.
The Coming Storm is a great deal more than a book that dwells in pederasty. It really is about the way humans interact with each other along a spectrum of perception, expectation, and revelation. The 4 mains in this book are so good at projecting a different image of themselves that you wonder how it is that they take everyone else at face value. For example, the first chapter is written from Louis’ point of view; the second is from Claire’s. They both have a lot of interaction with their freshly-hired teacher, Tracy, but after the first two chapters, the reader is worried that this will not be, in fact, a gay book. Not until Tracy’s point of view arrives in chapter 3 do we see just how effectively Tracy hides in his closet.
The structure of the book is stunning in its delicacy. Each of the mains takes his turn being the story teller, interpreting what is seen; what is said. It’s a rotating third-person personal format in which the order never wavers: Louis, Claire, Tracy, Noah, and around again, 5 times each throughout the book’s run. Although the storyline is richly detailed with flashbacks to points several years removed from the plot, the main plotline itself moves inexorably forward. That the story “feels” right being told by the character who’s turn it is must have taken quite a bit of planning.
Louis is the most finely-wrought character in this book. At 65, the final spark of life outside of his daily routine is a binder of material that he’s trying to write into a tome. The binder is a collection of notes, ideas, clippings, and sketches that he has been unable to coalesce into a finished manuscript despite years of thought and work. The subject centers about Death in Venice, and Louis finds himself utterly captivated by the young Tadzio (not unlike the way Aschenbach was). Although this provides some obvious and important linkage to Tracy’s predicament, I found myself mesmerized by a much more subtle linkage: Louis cries when he listens to the Bruckner Ninth Symphony. Although this may appear to be a throwaway detail, it’s not: Bruckner never finished the Ninth. Three movements were completed, but the fourth, the one that would carry the music to God, as he faithfully did in the other eight symphonies, remained an incomprehensible mess of notes, ideas, and sketches. Today, and forever more, the Ninth closes with a profound sense of something missing, and the parallel tears Louis apart. Beautiful.
Not everything is so subtle. Possibly the best sex scene ever penned to paper is the fateful first encounter between Tracy and Noah, and not just because Russell doesn’t fade to black or go to commercial when things heat up. This scene is written from Noah’s point of view, where he almost scientifically compares the differences between years of fantasy and the real thing. The somewhat cold ending feels absolutely right, too.
There’s only one thing I would have recommended to Russell if I were a beta tester for his manuscript. I would ask him to add a fifth voice to the chorus, that of Brill. I think that his Christian-right point of view might have made for some interesting counter balance. Still, great read.