Sweet Vidalia by Lisa Sandlin

It's terrifying to consider how a person can lose everything in an instant. Not only that but the people closest to us might be hiding terrible secrets. No one should live in paranoia, but it's sobering to contemplate how resilient you might be if the worst were to happen. “Sweet Vidalia” begins with an arresting moment of crisis for Eliza, a middle-aged woman in 1960s Texas. She's been married for three decades and has two adult children. Her world isn't only turned upside down but inside out as she suddenly finds herself on the brink of destitution and must start over again at this unusual stage of life. Eliza seeks to get a business education and job while moving into a motel called Sweet Vidalia with her old dog. There she encounters a number of curious individuals and forms new connections. The grinding indignity and humility of her situation is tempered by a tonally-light and humour-leaning narrative. However, this book doesn't shy away from the emotional shock or physical challenges of Eliza's situation. There's a serious impediment preventing her from accessing the few assets she still possesses, she suffers from arthritis in her hands and her children don't have enough resources to support her. Nevertheless, she discovers opportunities in the most unexpected places.

The wide range of characters that Eliza meets are interesting, but the novel comes to feel a little too cluttered with all their stories. Many of them have their own idiosyncrasies which are touched upon such as a man who feels closer to dogs than people, a strong-willed artistically-gifted classmate and a gay man who struggles to find employment in clerical roles usually taken by women. However, many of their lives never come to feel entirely filled out. But Eliza herself is a sensitive and empathetic character whose complexity beautifully deepens over the course of the story as she discovers an inner strength and talents that she never previously knew she possessed. At one point she reflects “Nobody now on earth, including my children, knows who I am. Not a wife, a mother whose kids are grown, with no neighborhood friend, no job to tell me what I am. Just a kind of in-between person who lives in a temporary place with people who live near her temporarily.” This sudden sense of anonymity may crush some people. But it's heartening how in this desperate situation Eliza learns to envision a new sense of self that's free from the expectations of those she's lived amongst for her entire life and establish her autonomy. I also found it touching how she recalls her own parents' economic struggles when she was young and feels a new connection with them because of her own plight. These factors mean that the novel comes to feel hopeful even amidst such a dire situation caused by a terrible betrayal.

Lisa Sandlin's writing has understandably been compared to that of Anne Tyler and Elizabeth Strout. Like these wonderful authors, her fiction is a pleasure to read with its naturally flowing prose which are layered with great depths of emotion.

The Edges by Angelo Tijssens (translated by Michele Hutchison)

A physically and emotionally scarred man returns to his hometown after many years of having lived away in the city. His mother has died and he's there to clean out her home. He also reunites with his first lover, a man who has stagnated rather than thrived in this town. There is so much tender feeling packed into this slim melancholy novella which describes the actions of his days. The tenderness is primarily sore, but it's also warm and sensual. How is it possible to describe the rollicking mixture of emotions for someone who escaped a violent childhood and has now returned to this location packed with personal significance? How can someone feel nostalgic and long to return to somewhere that was the wellspring of fathomless hurt? The narrative moves between his second and first person account as memories invade his present day experiences. There's a moving familiarity he shares with his old lover but also the strangeness of time that has passed while separated and the acknowledgement that their sexual reunion won't lead to a renewed relationship. Tijssens admirably lets the reality of the situation speak for itself and the bittersweet truth of life gradually emerges. The author is also a filmmaker and I great admired the movie 'Close' which he co-wrote. His narratives resist the impulse for confession and instead subtly present ambiguous relationships and conflicted human experiences.

Confessions of a Mask by Yukio Mishima (translated by Meredith Weatherby)

This month marks the centenary of Mishima's birth so it felt like a good time to read his gay coming-of-age modern classic first published in 1949. Reading anything by this controversial author feels tricky when knowing about his extreme political views and dramatic death committing ritual suicide after engaging in a failed coup. That certainly cast a shadow over my experience of this book as the draw towards death is often openly discussed “I somehow looked forward to death impatiently, with sweet expectation.” Yet, I also tried to read this autobiographical novel on its own terms as the author wrote it while he was still in his early twenties. In some ways its shockingly confessional in its male protagonist's raw desire for other men and in other ways he comes across as oddly lacking in self-awareness.

The book presents the tortured musings and philosophical reflections of a young man named Kochan. He feels increasingly alienated and isolated from the society around him to the point where his entire life becomes a performance. Throughout his youth he both desires muscular men and wishes to become them. However, as a boy frequently beset by illness who lives in a society where homosexuality isn't publicly acceptable his desire morphs into violent fantasies and repression. So he learns to present an artificial front to other people: “what people regarded as a pose on my part was actually an expression of my need to assert my true nature, and that it was precisely what people regarded as my true self which was a masquerade.” It's moving how the author describes the process of suppressing same-sex desire and a naturally flamboyant personality which is something many gay people feel pressured to do from an early age. Instead of embracing his nature Kochan becomes fixated on trying to desire and love women. The later part of the novel concerns his relationship with a friend's sister named Sonoko. Unsurprisingly, this doesn't result in a fulfilling romance.

Perhaps if I read this novel when I was younger I would have been more drawn to its often circular thought patterns, convoluted logic and relentless self-absorption. It's only natural that this young man should be so focused on his own preoccupations and desperate desire to understand himself. But a lot of his thought process came to feel repetitive and tiring. Since he's coming of age in Japan during WWII this naturally looms large yet it's something that's infrequently commented upon. Perhaps because he was living through it he wasn't compelled to describe it and life just carried on as normal until points of crisis. Nevertheless, his almost complete lack of interest for these larger events or the welfare of his schoolmates and family comes across as irritatingly callous. At one point it's mentions that his sister dies but this only prompts him to melodramatically reflect “I derived a superficial peace-of-mind from the discovery that even I could shed tears.” I longed to get more insight into his family and the precarious position of Sonoko after she goes on to get married. But, since the narrative doesn't extend any empathy outside the concerns of its protagonist, it was difficult for me to get past the growing frustration I felt towards this inward-gazing conflicted young man.

The Lion's Den by Iris Mwanza

This is a gripping legal drama set in the early 1990s as a young lawyer named Grace takes on a pro-bono case for her law firm in Zambia concerning a young individual named Bessy who is persecuted for his homosexuality and wearing women's clothing. Bessy is beaten by the police, his family visits the station every day but aren't allowed to see him and the police don't follow the proper procedures for processing Bessy's case making it impossible for Grace to help him. Nevertheless, she's determinedly seeks justice. Bessy himself appears only briefly in the story. However, through Grace's investigation and interviews with people who know him, there's a strong sense of his life as a sensitive and romantic individual who longs for love and wishes to move somewhere he can live openly.

Grace also emerges as a spirited and determined individual born into very humble circumstances and whose mother who tried to sell her into marriage. Instead of capitulating she flees her village in order to earn a law degree and live independently. Though she's ambitious she has a strong sense of justice – especially for those who are marginalised because she's very close to her late father's gay best friend. I appreciated how the story contrasts the sharp division between the rich and poor. Grace encounters some privileged individuals at her university and through her law firm who are accustomed to plentiful amounts of fine food. But Grace grew up literally starving at some points so has a persistent appetite and grateful appreciation for any food available. Equally she must become accustomed to the dress and manners of a society far from the village she grew up in. I also found it moving how Grace retains a strong connection to the spirits of her ancestors and how her religious identity works alongside widespread Christian practices.

At this time in the 90s and still today in Zambia, same-sex sexual activity is illegal for men and women. More than the laws there's a terrible social stigma for anyone who is LGBT. These notions are partly the result of legal and religious systems of belief which arrived with colonization. Of course, this means that many gay or trans individuals feel compelled to conceal their identity and risk being blackmailed. Anyone who bravely lives openly faces alienation, threats, longterm imprisonment or death. I'm glad this story encouraged me to read more about the historic and current state of queer life in Zambia to make me more aware of this ongoing struggle. Though it wasn't easy growing up gay in a relatively rural area of America in the 1990s, it would have been much more challenging to have grown up in Zambia at this time.

The novel had a powerful impact for this reason but it was also gripping to follow the developments of this case and Grace's journey. This story is a testament to the bravery of people who stand up for what's right against nearly insurmountable odds. But it also shows the complexity of trying to enact substantial change and achieve justice for marginalised individuals when causes gets swept up into party politics.