Mr. Loverman (2013 UK, 2014 US) By Bernardine Evaristo

I think I’m in love. His name is Barrington Jedidiah Walker, and he’s the title character in the novel Mr. Loverman by Bernardine Evaristo. He’s the most original, most memorable, and definitely the most interesting and sometimes charming new character in literature since Tales of the City gave us Mrs. Madrigal.

Mr. Walker, Barry, is 74. He was an immigrant to Britain from Antigua in the Caribbean, and has made a comfortable life in London’s Borough of Hackney. He’s been married for 50 years and has two polar opposite daughters. His good friend Morris also immigrated from Antigua decades ago. They went to school together back on the island and have remained close all their adult lives. Morris was once married. However, a happy marriage was never in the cards for either of them, but getting married is what one did if one was gay in the 1950s & 60s, in Antigua, or the United Kingdom (or the United States).

Twenty-five years ago, Morris raised the subject of moving in together.  

“This is 1980s London, Barry,” Morris said, sitting up and facing me. “Not 1950s St. John’s. Why we acting so backward? It is legal. We are legal. Nobody goin’ arrest us. Tis we own blasted business what we do, and everybody else can keep their small-minded noses out of it.” He put his hand on my wrist. I didn’t realize it was shaking.

“This is some heavy crap we dealing with, Morris. You asking me to turn my life upside down. I don’t know if I can take the upheaval.”

The subject was then dropped until 2012 when, with Barry’s marriage in shambles, and Morris’ long over, he brings it up again. Yet, Barry is still not ready to take the next step, disappointing and angering Morris.

The author, Bernardine Evaristo, handles this story expertly, accurately portraying the character of a gay man. She is also able to capture Barry’s other characteristics: his status as a black Caribbean immigrant, a father, an older but wiser curmudgeon, and even as a husband. Her writing style is superb, skillfully narrating both what Barry is saying, and what he’s thinking, which is not always the same thing. Her ability to tell, and care about, the underlying love story in this book is refreshing and appreciated.

Through her writing Evaristo also expertly captures one of new challenges facing the gay community as a byproduct of the movement’s breathtaking advances, the development of a monumental generation gap.

Barry & Morris are of a generation in which being gay was often a death sentence, either through acts of violence, “cures” like electro shock therapy, or suicide. I (at age 61) am of a generation when it meant bar raids, employment discrimination, political warfare, and AIDS. The younger members of today’s LGBTQ community -- while still far from living in a perfect world -- have never experienced gay invisibility or faced the “am I the only one” personal crisis. They realize marriage equality in all 50 states is only a matter of months away from a probable favorable Supreme Court ruling in the U.S., and is already the law in Great Britain (March 2014). The chronological difference between 74 year-old Barry and today’s “gay kids” is only fifty years, but culturally speaking it’s a millennium. We have much to learn from each other.

Yes, the book has a happy ending, but it is not a piece of so-called gay propaganda.  Gay people weren’t the only people hurt by this history, so were the people they married and the families and friends they often had to deceive to survive in the larger community. This book does not sugar-coat anything, it does though put it in perspective.

  

Recommendation: read it for its history, and definitely read it for its entertainment value.  Barry is a keeper.