Edward O. Phillips, Master Bon-mot-ist
Reviewer: Bob-O-Link
Rating: 5 stars out of 5
Despite the rampant hubris in much of today’s gay society, after God rested on the seventh day many of us did not promptly march down Christopher Street well-armed with banners and attitude. So, though old enough when Sunday’s Child was first published in 1981, either I missed reading it, or there wasn’t sufficient light in my closet permitting me to do so.
This marvelous novel is easily capable of taking us back 50 years into history (a gay life time!), when we suffered antediluvian prejudices and spoke to each other with effeminate terms (“Get you, Mary”) and so many gays still pretentiously emulated the “Queen’s” English. This novel is, as they might have said, quite a hoot!
So much elan as Sunday’s Child, with its constant, brilliant repartee and the sparkling aphorisms that quite perfectly fit the contexts.
And then the book’s the tone acutely changes, and we find ourselves into a detailed chapter in which Geoffry ended of his long-term affair with married Christopher. Much as the author has intimately familiarized us with our hero, we now have a deeper and more touching reveals of a genuine person. Those same dabs of a witticism become throw cloths to disguise his impending loss and pain.
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