In one story from Brontez Purnell's collection “100 Boyfriends” a character sits in an STD clinic thinking “I could say I deserve better than this – but do I? Really?” That tragic ambivalence and tottering self-esteem is common to many of the characters in these stories where casual sexual encounters are vigorously pursued without caution or care for the consequences. Some lead to more tender feelings, emotional connections or regular satisfying sex. Others are so fleeting it feels like a routine function. Some encounters are so hot it becomes a “squirting epic semen battle” and others are dissatisfying and all the more shameful because the narrator knows he will go back for more. There's an acknowledgement that the expectation is often better than the sex itself. We learn some of these men's names and others remain anonymous as we follow an enormous amount of gay hookups. Like the experiences themselves, the result is that the reader's memory becomes crowded with a plethora of indistinct vaguely-recalled male faces, bodies and details. It's brilliant how this gives a true sense of what that compulsive pursuit is like for some men who have sex with men.
Sometimes it feels like we get just the tip of a fascinating backstory about an individual only for the narrator to move onto another hookup or the story itself ends. Of course, this is somewhat frustrating for me as a reader as I'd naturally like to know more about some of these characters but it's entirely logical as these fleeting encounters seldom lead to a sustained relationship where sexual partners gain a deeper understanding of each other. The stories are often anecdotal in a way which isn't necessarily gossipy but conveys simple truths about the messiness of casual gay sex. The writing also frequently takes a surprising tone. An encounter with a Satanist which should be horrifying as he details the violent sex which ensues is described in a way which is comic and swerves around whether there is a more ponderous meaning to this experience. What's poignant is how little the narrator values his body and himself, but also how the brutal sexual exchange isn't coded with the same importance that the larger heterosexual society would likely ascribe to it.
Something really refreshing about these stories is that men's bodies are described in a highly realistic way with bellies, scars and variously sized genitals. In so much of gay fiction men's physicality is detailed in a ludicrously idealized way, but in Purnell's stories what might normally be viewed as imperfections aren't shamefully hidden or a turn off. They are simply who we are and there is something very liberating about this. The author also gets at how there's an abiding sense of loneliness which comes with gay life where intimacy might only be fleeting. This experience is encapsulated in the story 'Ed's Name Written in Pencil' which describes the experience of a 7 year old bullied by one older boy and befriended by another, but in the end he loses them both and it's the importance of contact (positive or negative as if to stave off loneliness) that matters more than the quality of that contact. Some gay readers might bristle at how these stories could be interpreted as a negative representation of gay life, but I admire the bold honesty of how these tales describe the filthy experience of some men. There are no pristine white bedsheets in these stories; they are stained with our bodies and this should not be concealed with a blanket. We're at a point where gay fiction from authors such as Bryan Washington and Garth Greenwell can get beyond a pointed political agenda to lay out the complex nuances of homo desire and gay life. I really fell for these highly-sexed wickedly-entertaining tales which are all about fucking around, fucking up and not giving a fuck.
