The Line of Beauty by Alan Hollinghurst
This book reminded me of an English garden—a meticulously, artfully, and seductively controlled presentation of nature. There is beauty in abundance—beauty of form, beauty of line, beauty of attention, and, dear god, so many, many beautiful sentences. AND there is a plot! Its very traditional approach—focused on characters and what happens to them, with a big crash of action at the end—makes plain that form is well and good, but what’s essential for novelistic greatness (and all greatness is radical) is astute attention, inimitable skill, and having something meaningful to illuminate. (Just that, ha!) This is a story in three acts, set in the Thatcherite England of 1983, 1986, and 1987. Nick Guest—a young gay aesthete with a thing for Henry James fresh out of college—is enmeshed with the Fedden family through his friendship (and crush) on Toby, their golden son, and his protective relationship with Catherine, their troubled daughter. The Feddens move in rarified social circles—there’s a house in Notting Hill; Gerald, the father, is an ambitious and opportunistic Conservative member of Parliament in emotional thrall to Thatcher, and Rachel, the mother, is part of an extravagantly wealthy, titled Jewish family. True to his name, Nick is a guest in the Feddens’ world, occupying a permanent-seeming yet precarious position that depends on his discretion and utility. His sexuality is accepted as long as it is unstated and unseen, but when his personal life collides with the Feddens, disaster ensues. As someone whose childhood and youth happened during the evolving terror of the AIDS epidemic, I had horror in my heart almost from page one because the reader experiences Nick’s developing sexuality and sensual freedom knowing the future he doesn’t see coming. It’s the rare book I finished and wished I could read again and again, but each time told from the perspective of a different character, because they are all that compelling. If you are looking for a subtle, satisfying, mesmerizing read, this is it.
