A Single Man – Christopher Isherwood
Expectation: A queer classic focused on a middle aged man trying to find connection with one of his students.
Reality: The day-in-the-life structure is as tedious as it is engrossing, but this rightly deserves to be in the canon of exceptional queer literature.
My Take:
For many people, U.S. queer history began with the first brick at the Stonewall Inn in 1969, but only focusing on post-liberation stories deprives readers of understanding how our queer ancestors lived, oftentimes, deeply in the closet.
The American postwar boom era of the 1950s and 1960s has become one of my favorite queer literary subgenres, and thankfully we have phenomenal writers, like James Baldwin, Patricia Highsmith and Christopher Isherwood to revisit.
What fascinates me about these two decades is the seismic shift in expectations and beliefs. The conservative conformity pushed in the mainstream was challenged and protested on multiple fronts, but behind each monumental moment were people — in towns big and small — trying to be happy.
As we’ve learned from Giovanni, Rufus, Carol and George, life in the margins eventually takes its toll.
Which brings me to “A Single Man,” Isherwood’s day-in-the-life portrayal of George, a middle aged British ex-pat professor in Southern California struggling with the lack of closure after the death of his long-time partner.
Throughout what is essentially a plus-sized novella, we see George struggling not only with grief but also the fundamental lack of connection to his community. He is constantly code-switching, questioning how people perceive him and wondering why he tries so hard to fit in.
As he goes through the motions of his job and social engagements, I saw George as a put upon people-pleaser who felt, whether out of upbringing or expectations, the need to present as the perfect man in order to not raise suspicion of what happens behind his closed doors.
His life is painful, not because of a single situation, but because the burdens of being semi-closeted have led him to near complete isolation while craving meaningful and reciprocal love and respect.
Isherwood presents a story that is alternately boring (it truly is George experiencing the mundane moments of life) and highly reflective thanks to its introspective POV that provides context to the sociopolitical events of the early 1960s.
Readers will leave “Man” seeing George as either tragic or fortunate. I’m in the tragedy camp as it appeared George would never be able to find happiness, but I can also see how people see resolve and hope in the actions on his [spoiler alert] final day.
This was my first Isherwood read, and it was a great introduction to his work. While sometimes it felt unfocused and a tad pretentious, he brought George and the era to life in vivid detail with true emotion. I’m curious to read his memoir “Christopher and His Kind,” next.
Two final notes: first, the audiobook was narrated by Simon Prebble who provided George with a perfect, disaffected performance. He had fun voicing the assorted people George encountered throughout the day, but I found his portrayal of Charlotte a bit shrill. Second, I’m curious to revisit Tom Ford’s 2009 film adaptation. I saw this soon after it was released, but I feel like many of the themes were lost on me. In hindsight, Colin Firth is absolutely perfect casting for George.
Rating (story): 4/5 stars
Rating (narration): 4/5 stars
Format: Audiobook (library loan)
Dates read: June 25 – June 27, 2023
Multi-tasking: Okay. The narrative is rather stream of consciousness, so it does require concentration to keep track of the little details.
