At Certain Points We Touch

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And now this sounds really negative just because I can’t be arsed with toxic gay boys imbued with fictional glamour but … err … I actually really loved this.

Thank you to the publisher for providing me an advanced e-copy via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. In classic bildungsroman fashion, we follow the narrator from San Francisco back to London, then into New York City’s demimonde — a high-wire life subsidized, barely, by table dancing — and then to London again. They travel the trash/queer underground circuit from London to San Francisco to New York, Berlin and Mexico City with a crew of equally engaged marginalized survivors who read the best books and meet the best people, while go-go dancing, tricking, eating the most romantic cheap French fries and looking for their places in the world. We first meet the young, red-haired, green-eyed narrator, who has inherited their love of words, like their tendency towards depression, from their mother, in London.Her prose is tender and lyrical, yet also raw and unflinching as it jumps between love and pain, living and grieving, memory and the fleeting nature of time. There's way too much detail (and nasty at that) to the point you don't care about the story anymore. I couldn’t bring myself to sit down and get to work on it though, for almost a decade, it felt vulgar and obscene,' the author tells Tatler.

Ten years earlier, and our young narrator and a boy named Thomas James fall into bed with one another over the summer of their graduation. To that end I need to emphasize that this book achieves in that special way that only rare books can: it changed me. And without it, you just get the quite long-winded tale of a terrible person who you’re literally waiting to die.all gorgeously hedonistic and glittering cities and swirling snowstorms and swims in the sparkling blue ocean.