This is the first book I’ve read by Jay Quinn. It is fiction and it is much easier to read than the interminable Motion of Light in Water from last month. Unfortunately, fast does not always mean good. I very seriously wonder whether Quinn is a nom de plume for Michael Thomas Ford, since Quinn’s writing style bears more than a passing resemblance to Ford’s in Last Summer. George quipped that it was “Last Summer with Goldie Hawn.”
Back Where He Started is told from the main character’s point of view. Chris Thayer’s gender-ambiguous name is a curious selection. Given the character that Quinn is molding for us in this story, I would have expected something a little more male. The plot is one of the most self-congratulatory that I’ve ever read, but a very minor edit in just a few places would yield a genuine heterosexual story, unfolding realistically. As such, the overall theme seemed more akin to women’s issues than gay men’s issues.
The first chapter is the best in the book, opening with all the bombast and promise of Haydn’s Creation but fizzling into background music, so like Haydn. Chris was raised in the rough and poor side of town. He had a 60s-esque free-love exploratory period in his youth, and then blam! He meets Zach, they get serious, and then Zach drops a bomb: He’s the father of 3 young children and he’s on his own. Turns out, Chris has wanted to be a kept wife and he didn’t even know it.
Fast forward 22 years in the same chapter and blam! Zach’s drops another bomb, announcing that he’s moving out and getting married to a woman. Off he goes in a car that purrs. Chris spends the remainder of the book according to its title, pondering the big questions. Did I do the best I could? Did I sacrifice myself enough for the kids? Was I a good mother? Did I buy enough goodies using my (breakup) tax refund? How well does this garment accentuate my ass? Chris endures all of the ills that gay men everywhere endure: He has a string of arduous, painful job interviews that go poorly because he’s 48 and aflame; He’s thrown out of his beloved Catholic church by his ears; He struggles with the isolation and despair that comes when you arrive in a new community and fail to qualify as “fresh meat.”
Ha ha! I had you there. Of course our Chris didn’t endure such things. Quinn=Ford, remember? Instead, Chris is hired on his first real attempt to get a job, he is personally welcomed by his new priest, and he never has a moment for isolation, what with his family always dropping by and the new gay network, provided by the gay vet, who ultimately leads Chris to his Mr. Man.
That would be Steve, the ruffian top who will only use a condom until he can prove he’s negative, the six-month viral gestation be damned. I found that Steve fit the pattern of Chris’ prior lovers pretty well. Luckily, the book ends before things go badly as you know they will.
The kids get plenty of development in the story, but each is mostly forgettable. Trey, the eldest, is very good with money and proves invaluable to Chris who doesn’t want to think about it. Andrea is a mess, enough said. Schooner, named for the boat Zach wished he’d gotten instead of a 3rd kid, is gay and has all of the usual problems of youth: rage, jealousy, and drinking from the carton.
It’s not a good sign when you are begging for bad things to happen. Without them, the characters don’t evolve and the book doesn’t teach. You may be far from the end of the book but you are never far from the sense of a big happy ending. Yuck. The only real surprise was the scene in which Chris sends Schooner off to Massachusetts to be married but never regrets not being there. Are you kidding me? Chris Thayer is the incessant Supermom. He’s going to let the baby of his family get married with no plan for a family-wide ceremony and/or reception? Did Quinn just forget this detail?
Those of you who really liked Last Summer will probably like this. The rest of you are free to pursue something better. Footnote: George promises me that Ford is maturing, and that he’s written an incredible piece in Midnight Thirsts. I’ll be the judge of that! Perhaps in December…