When Ernest Hemingway said 'write what you know' I am certain he did not mean to dismiss 'imaginative literature' as John Irving likes to claim. The proof of that pudding is in Edmund White's evocation of longing in his most recent book Jack Holmes and His Friend. It is comforting to know that such chroniclers of life exist; that the novel as a literary device still attempts to crystallize life's many ambiguities. And above all, that exploration of the human condition requires one to have lived a life and not necessarily attend an MFA program.
Jack Holmes is a complex man. He is endearing in his obsessive love for one man, cold in his indifferent handling of others' longing for him. But such is the depth of his internal struggle that the reader wants to be the object of his obsessive infatuation. The kind of human complexity that makes one realize sexuality is an artificial construct. Edmund White's treatment of the straight man is a lot less compelling. Is it because he lives the Hemingway maxim too well or was it an intended juxtaposition is something I have not been able to understand.
This is a very good novel. Please read it.
