Blind Prophecy

I recently finished reading The Line of Beauty by Alan Hollinghurt. I’ll admit that I had trouble loving the novel at first, but somewhere near the midpoint, it became an absolute page-turner that I didn’t want to put down after my work breaks or for sleep. Nick Guest, a young man of modest background, has come to live at the home of the Feddens, a rich family headed by the patriach Gerald (a Tory MP in Margaret Thatcher’s parliament). Nick is experiencing his own sexual awakening and is on a quest to find things of inherent beauty–things that his relationship with the Feddens can put him into contact with.

Nick, however, remains politically naive and blind throughout much of the book, remaining uninterested in deeper political movements, basing his loyalties and alliances more upon the glamours and connections that they afford rather than what they actually mean to him, his family, or his friends.

As the plot barrels through the 1980s, Nick has trouble sustaining the detached privilege of those he surrounds himself with. The Feddens’ daughter, Catherine, a bipolar wild child begins speaking the truth that no one wants to hear. When her beloved godfather dies of AIDS, she demands that the family ackowledge it openly, because to cover it up seems even more terrible to her. This leads to Nick outing himself to a pair of deeply homophobic family friends and revealing his secret relationship with the wealthy Lebanese Wani (full of Coke and threesomes) to Catherine.

But these two acts of taking a stand, no matter how small, ultimately become the tragic downfall at the end of the novel. When Nick’s secrets come out, he finds that his friends are quick to turn their backs on him despite their own hypocricy. In fact, the Feddens live lives full of tawdry affairs, endless parties and their own drugs. Still, the public fall-out is almost all hoisted on the homosexual, who is expected to disappear with his tail tucked between his legs.

I’m sure that every reader will find his or her own messages in the reading of this book, but for me, it appeals as a morality play. The young homosexual who aligns himself with power and beauty and superficial connections without giving thought to the political, cultural and social fallout of such support risks finding himself with nothing but memories in the end. Nick’s life is built on empty relationships, and with the impending death of Wani, he may not have to worry about money, but he’s lost the close relationships of friends, family and lovers–if he ever had them to begin with.

I’ll take it on faith that the book imitates Henry James in style and themes, I haven’t yet read much of James beyond a few random class assignments (e.g., “Daisy Miller”). What I do know is that the long descriptions that put me off at first became exciting and intense as I fell in love with the novel. I’m not ashamed to say that the book had me circling words to look up in the dictionary later (a practice I haven’t had much need for since high school), and introduced me to new concepts and ideas in such a casual way as to be almost unnoticed.

The Line of Beauty is being moved to the pile of books that I intend to re-read with a few months break. A little perspective and time to let first impressions settle will be necessary to a full understanding and appreciation of the novel. Besides, it was a joy to read and it will be a joy to read again.

Filed under: books by Jere Keys