All of the beautiful boys
A male model and his many loves people this funny, tragic novel, says David Herkt.
Edmund White’s latest novel, Our Young Man, follows a French male model on a picaresque journey through the men and bars of gay New York from the late 1970s and into a new century.
Well known as one of the founding writers of contemporary gay literature, 76-year-old White takes aspects of Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray and updates that story of ageless beauty for a more pleasureseeking time.
Born in an industrial city in the heart of France, Guy is favoured with perfect photographic good looks.
His height, weight, cheekbones, small ears, and flawless skin make him a valued clothing model, but while he may be physically beautiful, he isn’t the brightest boy on the catwalk.
White manages Guy’s bourgeoisie mercenary dumbness with aplomb and humour. The distinction between the world of haute-couture and a model’s bank account is perfectly pitched.
So too are White’s observations of the stock characters of recent gay history.
Guy finds a manager, PierreGeorges, who is adept at placing his client but prefers rougher men himself.
An early misstep into the world of erotic photography is soon forgotten, but Pierre-Georges introduces Guy to New York — and its men — at the peak of the Studio 54 and Mineshaft era.
There is the Baron, an aristocrat with distinctive erotic tastes who attempts to sculpt Guy into the person of his desires.
Then there is Fred, a producer of blaxploitation movies and father of two, who begins to explore his homosexuality with the aid of plastic surgery and a Fire Island beach house.
Andre, a handsome art student with a sideline in forging Dali lithographs, is next in line.
White outlines the complex relationship with skill and sympathy.
Finally, and filling the gap in the now wealthy Guy’s life, is Kevin, one of a pair of blond identical twins, and the possessor of some breathtakingly unselfconscious American presumptions.
White’s tone as he sketches his gallery of characters is indulgent.
Our Young Man is a book of classical grace and attitude, counter-pointed by erotic turmoil.
White’s sexual descriptions are frank and his delivery is perfectly deadpan, straddling worldly wisdom and sophisticated humour.
He has evoked the era of HIV/ AIDs in both his autobiographical works and his novels, but never as deftly as this.
Tragedy and comedy of manners are blended audaciously.
From A Boy’s Own Story in 1980 to the magisterial The Farewell Symphony in 1997, White’s novels have created and curated a contemporary gay sensibility.
Amidst these, Our Young Man resembles a fascinating late Mozart opera as it consummately plays with subjects of great seriousness.