Publisher's Weekly Review
TV writer and producer Newson debuts with a crisp fictitious memoir of a gay Black man's coming-of-age in mid-1980s New York City. Earl "Trey" Singleton III spurns his wealthy Indianapolis family to move to Manhattan at age 17 in 1985. He struggles to find a job or a place to live, and becomes a regular at Mt. Morris, one of the last remaining bathhouses. There, between his frequent sexual encounters, he befriends civil rights leader Bayard Rustin. At Rustin's urging that Trey become politically involved, Trey wins a Pyrrhic victory against his negligent landlord, Fred Trump. Trey then begins volunteering at an AIDS hospice and joins the direct-action group ACT UP. Later, Trey's will is tested after he's arrested at a mostly white protest against the FDA, then hears shocking news about a friend. Though the choice to frame this as a memoir remains a bit curious, as doing so doesn't add much to the narrative, Newson can turn a sharp phrase (a job loss teaches Trey that "affection never outlasted need"), and his footnotes to historic figures provide context and nuance ("A list of his undeniable accomplishments could only be rivaled in length by a list of the names of other LGBTQ+ activists with whom he clashed, offended, and rebuked," he writes of Larry Kramer). It adds up to an eloquent story of the struggle for gay liberation. (Aug.)
Kirkus Review
A gay Black man's personal transformation and political awakening in mid-1980s New York City. In his engrossing debut, Newson, television writer and producer of Narcos and Bel-Air, introduces readers to Earl "Trey" Singleton III, a young Black man born into an affluent family of political speechwriters in Indianapolis. Stifled by his parents' lofty expectations and the narrow-mindedness of his community, Trey flees to New York City at 17 with $2,327 that doesn't last long. The year is 1985, and New York is rife with tension: Jobs are few, racism and homophobia rampant, and corruption unbridled. Struggling to find work and housing, Trey meets Gregory, who makes ends meet by catering to the needs of a host of older White (usually closeted) men (or daddies, as Trey calls them). Together, Trey and Gregory rent a derelict studio apartment and wander through Mt. Morris in Harlem, one of the few remaining gay bathhouses, where Trey finally finds some form of queer community. "Mt. Morris wasn't only about sex," says Trey, as he develops a close friendship with activist and social justice advocate Bayard Rustin, who attempts to politicize the young man. Rustin's mentorship becomes critical to Trey as he organizes a strike against his negligent landlord, Fred Trump, and becomes increasingly involved in AIDS activism, volunteering at an AIDS home hospice and becoming an active member of ACT UP. A fictional memoir, the novel is divided into chapters titled after a lesson Trey learns within ("Lesson #6: Romantic Notions Are Delusions"). The chapters often conclude with an explanation of their thematic content, which, while an interesting device, is frequently too on-the-nose. Nevertheless, footnotes provide context and compelling detail for readers who are not familiar with queer history. Delightful and fast-paced, a fascinating narrative of queer activism during the AIDS epidemic. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Library Journal Review
DEBUT A young gay man's life in 1980s New York City is the subject of this novel, both a coming-of-age tale and homage to the civil and gay rights movements. Earl "Trey" Singleton is an upper-middle class Black man whose family life in Indianapolis was shattered by the violent death of his younger brother. Moving to New York at 18, just as the AIDS epidemic arrived, Trey is caught between worlds, hanging around the bathhouses, while volunteering at an illegal hospice taking care of dying AIDS patients. He makes his first foray into politics by organizing a successful rent strike against his landlord, Fred Trump, and eventually finds his way into the militant wing of the gay rights movement. A historical work seemingly written with an eye toward the future, this copiously footnoted novel numbers prominent figures of the time among its characters and namechecks others. But while useful when referencing more obscure figures, are footnotes telling readers who Ronald Reagan and Prince were really necessary? VERDICT Unfortunately, the raw, powerful immediacy of the novel is too often interrupted by a didactic distraction that mostly functions to distance the reader from the action, but Newson's reputation as a TV writer/showrunner (Bel-Air) will attract attention.--Lawrence Rungren
