“ ‘It’s both of us.’ There was a crack of desperation in his voice. ‘It’s always been both of us, it’s mutually assured destruction, that was the entire point. And it didn’t do me a damn bit of good, did it?’ ”
Listen, I’m always down for queer people who are so obsessed with each other that they commit act(s) of violence as some kind of metaphor or something (it always ends well!), and this is so much that in such a deliciously beautiful, heart wrenching way. was literally shaking during parts of this book, it was all I could think about when I had to put it down. I was buzzing. And going through my notes made me see just how much foreshadowing and symbolism was present in this book. I won’t touch on most of it because, you know, spoilers. However, this book is so primarily focused on emotions and connection rather than the plot so I’m hoping that my emotions about how much I adored it get through to y’all and you decide to pick it up. It’s been weeks and every time I think about this book, I want to slam my head against a wall (compliment).
“He would have done anything, anything at all, if it meant Julian would look at him this way a moment longer. The green of his eyes, like white winter light vectored through the crest of a wave; the ravenous grasping for evidence that Paul loved him, and the relief and terror at finding it.”
It’s a college in Pittsburg in the 70s, two boys meet in an intro ethics class and appreciate the responses that each of them have when the teacher asks them questions. Friendship blooms quickly, then moves into obsession and love, then a sprinkle of violence occurs. It’s a tale as old as time, really. Paul and Julian are apt names for a very loosely inspired, gender-bent story of Pauline Parker and Juliet Hulme from the movie, Heavenly Creatures, and therefore the Australian - the Parker Hulme murder case.
“It’s the two of us, contra mundum, looking down into the machinery. All I’ve ever learned to do is survive it, and that just barely. I’ve always admired your ardor in wanting to smash the gears. What a lonely, dreary thing it is to know the truth. What a relief it is that neither of us has to be alone in knowing.”
No matter what, once they join together it is always Paul and Julian against the world. Even when the pain comes from each other, instead of the outside world, it only brings them closer together. Inside their little bubble, they feed on each other—the enabler and the abuser. Through their separate past trauma, the tumultuousness of their relationship, and the reality of being gay in a homophobic world (and most importantly, with homophobic parents), they find solace in each other, drifting on an island alone together. It’s beautiful in a messed-up sort of way.
“I want to go far away, start over, pretend we can wake up from this. To stop hurting you, and to hurt you so badly the scars will never fade. Never to see you again. Never to see anything but you.”
There is such a thin line drawn between love and hate and violence. Maybe both of them view love as an act of violence. Or one sees love as violence and the other sees love as a sacrifice and believes that giving every single thing to another is the only way that they will love you. The sociopath x enabler ship sails on. And there is such a desperation on both sides. A desperation to not find joy in pain. A desperation to bring your love joy even if that means him causing you pain. (I never said this was a good relationship).
“I hope you looked west while I was looking east, and that for a moment you met my eyes without knowing it. I know you never look away, even when your eyes are closed, but I’m never certain you can see what’s really there.”
The real bottom line, my real obsession with this book, is that the only thing that sustains me is queer people finding the most pretentious, violent, and tragic ways to express their love for each other and Paul and Julian tick all those boxes. The writing is exquisite, so desperate and beautiful that I was debating just leaving y’all with some quotes and calling it a day. Alas, you have to read my thoughts instead.
“There was no revering him anymore. Only love remained, and it was a fragile thing that Paul had been desperate not to see. He couldn’t stand to look at the truth, even now. All they were—all they had ever been—was a pair of sunflowers who each believed the other was the sun.”
Having this be in Paul’s point of view effectively warps parts of the story in intriguing ways. There is so much self-hatred that he may not be completely aware of that shapes his views so completely and give the reader a warped view of what’s going on, even if all of the objective facts are correct. There are so many questions I still have about what was really going on with him (repressed? trauma?), but the end result was the same: a failure to understand that anyone could love him and simply just love him and a refusal to believe that anyone would choose him just to have him. There is such a desperation in him, or maybe a belief that love will never be enough, that all it does will cause pain, that there is a physical response of disgust whenever he feels as though he is shown pure love with no intention or game behind it. It makes for a very intriguing read.
“ ‘Just tell me there’s a girl—I won’t get angry. If you two are out there chasing shiksas, you wouldn’t be the first, just tell me so I’ll know at least you’re a normal boy—’ ”
Surprise! There’s homophobia in Pittsburg in the 70s! Bet you didn’t see that one coming. I’d say it’s about what you’d expect from a book set in the 70s, and I’m not going to discuss it for too long because it is quite expected, but I did think it was incredibly important and indicative of both boys to see how their families (both homophobic) reacted to the knowledge (or guess) that their son is gay and how. . . different the reactions and resulting actions were because of that. I want to also touch on the fact that there a brief moments of antisemitism against Paul throughout this book as well, just for people who would like to be warned about it.
“ ‘I kill them [butterflies] because they’re beautiful, and it’s the only way I can keep them.’ ”
There’s a lot of foreshadowing here in a way that is very focused on both Julian’s hobby—chess—and Paul’s hobby—catching butterflies—that feels a bit blatant, but I really do love it especially because of how well they portray the ways that Paul and Julian view the world, especially regarding to love and relationships. The butterflies were one of the most impactful parts of the stories to me as we see how Paul treats beautiful things and the lengths he will go to keep them, his twisted view of love, the lengths he will go to preserve a beautiful thing. The only cover of this book that has butterflies (that I could find) was the Bulgarian cover which is a real shame because there is so much that could’ve been done with this book and butterflies on the cover.
While the butterflies and chess talk foreshadows, Paul’s waxing and waning desire to be seen serves as a bit of reflection of things that have just passed. “Paul wasn’t sure he would ever grow used to it—this precipitous thrill of being seen and known and understood,” when the relationship between him and Julian is first budding and he feels he is both seen and able to show himself with a mask for the first in his life. A little further along, when he is convinced that he is fully known but Julian isn’t, he laments, “For all the pains Paul was taking to hold his unhappiness below the surface, some part of him was grateful to be seen.” As he grows more and more in his relationship with Julian and they learn the more monstrous parts of each other, both still holding tight and loving each other in spite of, or maybe because of, these violent delights, he thinks, “It was a relief and a horror to be known so perfectly.” A part of this seems to be mirroring his thoughts about loving someone, especially a man in 1970s Pittsburg—a relief and a horror. There is never peace in this relationship, but can there be peace? Or will there always be something violent about the way they love where their relationship cannot be anything but tumultuous and violent? Finally, at the end Paul thinks of his sister, “When she met Paul’s eyes, it was as if she were seeing him for the first time. He couldn’t remember why he’d ever wanted to be seen,” and there are so many ways that can be read and they are all probably a little true and more than a little heartbreaking.
“His fear was so absolute that Paul knew it would be there forever. There was something absent in his eyes; Paul couldn’t remember what they had looked like before. He’d never told Julian how beautiful they were, because he had thought it self-evident. He’d believed that of far too many things.”
There was a point in this book where I was worried the book wouldn’t hit hard for me, or I should say that there was a point in this book where the action started and I no longer felt like I was being consumed by the story. It’s a little odd when you think about it. What is assumed to be the climax is revealed fairly early in the book so the reader knows what the story is leading up to the whole book, but I couldn’t help but feel a bit sad when the lens into these two messed up boys’ lives and their messed up relationship was shifted into an actual plot, if even for a little bit. I was dying to keep the focus on Julian and Paul, becoming as obsessed with them as they were with each other, getting frustrated with any distraction. However, the book shifts back to the real “plot” (the relationship between Paul and Julian) and ends in a way that had my mouth hanging open. It’s violent and satisfying in the way that it isn’t violent enough to compare to the rest of their relationship and it isn’t satisfying enough to be able to stop me from obsessing over what happened next. It’s violently ripped out from you and is reduced to a simmer. It’s the perfect ending for this book.
“ ‘It was your fucking delusion that if you just made yourself strong and cold and heartless and everything you aren’t—if you could just make yourself ‘better,’ if you could destroy every part of you that’s worth loving, then you wouldn’t ever have to be afraid again. That was what you needed me to do, and I would have done anything, god help me, I would have done anything for you. I thought you’d finally trust me if you knew I’d kill for you, and it still isn’t enough. I don’t know why I thought it ever could be enough, nothing ever will be. . . I thought I’d finally found a way to love you and have you even notice I was doing it. How sick is that? I’m just as much of a monster as you are.’ ”
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