A Single Man
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Buy Now for $13.32
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Narrated by:
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Simon Prebble
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Written by:
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Christopher Isherwood
When A Single Man was originally published, it shocked many with its frank, sympathetic, and moving portrayal of a gay man in midlife. George, the protagonist, is adjusting to life on his own after the sudden death of his partner, and determines to persist in the routines of his daily life. The course of A Single Man spans 24 hours in an ordinary day.
An Englishman and a professor living in suburban Southern California, he is an outsider in every way, and his internal reflections and interactions with others reveal a man who loves being alive despite everyday injustices and loneliness.
Wry, suddenly manic, constantly funny, surprisingly sad, this novel catches the texture of life itself.
©1992 Don Bachardy (P)2009 HighBridge CompanyWhat the critics say
Good
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What atrracted me to this book was my slight knowledge of the author's life, and the image of actor Colin Firth. The only other work I have read by this author is 'Meeting by the River', although that was years ago. My background, like Isherwood is also in Vedantic Hindu philosophy and yoga. I was a university teacher like the character. Like the author I am a member of a minority that is silent, not out of choice, but for survival. Very recently I experienced the death of someone dear to me. Even our ages, weights and mood are so close it is scary. So this telling was a mirror, the delicious familiarity of a stranger.
In several places in the book we learn that the protaganist has an erotic appreciation for youths, and despite my not being homosexual he paints his feelings so sympathetically and sensitively that I felt 'in the character's shoes'. Likewise, despite the protaganist sounding rather disgusted by women in general (and not just sexually) his description of his lonely middle-age neighbour woman is compassionate even though I get the impression that he not trying to be. The society and sex that he says he hates pays his salary and is kind to him respectively.
Prebble is a superb narrator. It was as if he became 'Charlie'. He carries the meloncholy of middle age, the sneering at conventional social norms, grief at the loss of the beloved, frustration at being tolerated, and exilharation of bodily joy so authentically.
I admit that I fell asleep for a few minutes near the end (entirely from my side, no fault of the book) so I am left with a question: why does the protaganist sound so desperate? I will have to listen again to see why he ends so passionate. Was it anger, despair, or bitter observation? Was he was spurned by his young student friend?
Excellent beginning and end, empathetic middle
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