AT THE LIBRARY
“Night Soil” by Dale Peck (Soho Press, 2018; 244 pages)
Despite the lilac hue that frames a mysterious railway tunnel, and a title evoking moonlit gardens, the gorgeous cover of “Night Soil” is chock full of veiled references to the dark side of humanity.
“Night soil” is a euphemism for human feces collected by servants at night, and what appears to be a tunnel is actually a dark mine, one that served to extract coal in the 19th century, create a family fortune, and kill over a thousand black slaves in the process.
Judas and Dixie are the inheritors of the Stammers’ family fortune — and its shame. Judas was born with a winding birthmark across his face and body that causes multiple medical problems that he has to navigate, along with his budding sexual identity.
His mother Dixie becomes a sudden art star due to the uncanny uniformity of her pots. Judas inherits a large fortune, and the two move into the artificially constructed utopia of their ancestors’ making.
“Night Soil” is a haunting and gorgeously written queer coming-of-age story. Peck uses language like a painter uses a palette to fulfil his vision, using every pigment at his disposal (note the use of gazunder, maieutic and chivaree, for instance). Despite the obscure language and labyrinthine sentence structure, it’s a pleasure to read and become enveloped in the Stammers’ world.