War Against the Animals

I had been eagerly awaiting the release of Paul Russell's latest novel, War Against the Animals - and I was not disappointed. Russell's novels are always engaging, usually revolving around characters who are coping with loss. In this novel, both characters are coping with the loss of adolescent innocence that comes with the acceptance of one's sexuality. Cameron Barnes, one of the main characters, is living out the end of his life looking back at his youth - haunted by memories of the boy he loved (before he could name it that), the boy who abused him, and the boy who eventually became the love of his life. These memories render him open to the companionship of Jesse Vanderhof, the other main character. He is a young "redneck," who initially befriends Cameron in order to bilk him for money. But along the way, Jesse undergoes an awakening that parellels the memory-life Cameron is re-living. Russell pairs these twin stories of lost innocence with a motif of gardens. The gardens represent an interesting counterpoint to the characters, and help to symbolically tie them and their experiences together. I was struck by Cameron's character - he is surrounded by friends who love and cherish him, but his loneliness is palpable, especially as he realizes that Max, his oldest and dearest friend, doesn't really "know" him at all. An excellent novel. I can also highly recommend Russell's other novels - especially "The Coming Storm."

We've anxiously waited three years for another Paul Russell novel, and luckily he doesn't disappoint. Just as The Coming Storm addressed the controversial issues of underage gay sex, War Against the Animals also addresses the similar theme of the kind of relationships older gay men can have with younger men who are struggling to come out. Both novels are such wonderful and intricate studies of modern gay America, that readers will be wondering just what Russell will come up with next! War against the Animals is indeed worth waiting for, as it's an astounding piece of work and a fine literary achievement. Russell writes with a mature, and serious voice - a voice that is really needed and rarely found within the current dearth of quality fiction for gay men.The story shifts so dramatically between the two main protagonists, Cameron Barnes and Jesse Vanderhof and the story moves so explicitly towards its inevitable climax, that the reader is left feeling emotionally exhausted. Russell does a wonderful job of addressing the needs and issues of older HIV positive gay men; Cameron is lonely, wealthy, and solitary, and wistful of his life spent with his one true love, who has died of AIDS. He meets Jessie - young, confused, rebellious, and a "red neck" - they develop a tender, kind of mismatched friendship, which seems to flourish against all odds. Russell does a great job of telling the story from each character's perspective, and many of the secondary characters are startlingly realistic. There's Perry - young, sexy and provocative; Jesse's brother Kyle - rough, suspicious of Jesse's sexuality and resentful of the changes taking place around him, and Cameron's friend Max - ambitious, politically active in local government, with a drive to change the community for the better. War against the Animals also has some astute familial observations, and I was amazed that even though her husband had just died, Jesse and Kyle's mother was so detached and unaware of her sons' problems.War against the Animals is not just a story of unintended friendship and a young under-educated man trying to find his way in a hostile and confused world. It is also a story of a "war": a war of class, education and money - a war of different worldviews, and a war over sexuality. The politics of small town life is one of the wider themes of the novel. Older communities are changing and the disparate poorer people are being pushed out as the wealthy, many of them young affluent gay men, are moving in, buying up the housing stock and gradually remaking the communities. Russell addresses these issues and themes with resounding honesty and compassion, and paints a beautiful picture of a world undergoing unstoppable change. Russell's command of the language, his use of metaphor and symbolism and his vivid descriptions of the natural world are unsurpassed in contemporary American literature. This is a fine piece of literary fiction from one of America's greatest authors, and one of the

So why could I not put this book down, to save some of the pleasure until later, without soon picking it up again? Apparently plot, theme, characters, style-and two looks at love.Plot. Lively conflict between smalltown New York redneck villagers and the influx of gay-male weekenders. (Hetero majority vs. homo deviancy.) Also conflict between young native Jesse and his emerging desires within himself, and his straight-culture family tradition. Nothing new there, a universal plot. (Think Romeo-and-Juliet conflicts.) But Russell does it well. He splices nicely the "timely" (the still-present terrible conflict between gay urges and their psychological and sociocultural repression) with the "timeless" (any conflict between Self and Society).Theme. With gay character Cameron being seropositive and having lost lovers to AIDS, it's also about mortality, the most universal plot of all. And one done before. But Russell also does that well. He somehow weaves seamlessly the HIV-specific (Cameron's viral loads and T-cell counts, his lost lovers and friends) into the so-general precariousness of everybody, you and me.Characters. Russell paints people well, both the pencillings of har-de-harumph traditional lowerclass culture, and also the Portrait Gallery of pretty, precious, prissy gay male microculture. Again, done and done again before. But once more, Russell does it well.Style. Throughout the book, Russell can interweave thematically, the echoing motif of "animals" hunted, from vegetarianism to roadkill to Jesse's tortured dreams to symbolic gay-straight warfare.But what I found especially great are at least two other elements worthy of the skill of Russell (especially as seen in his The Coming Storm). Two facets of lust/love. First, the yearning of fortysomething gay AIDS widower Cameron for the local boy-man Jesse. Poignantly done: not neurotic, just natural attraction to his youth and beauty-but also to his own appealing self. Is this love? Russell superbly re-creates oh the pain and ah the pleasure.But especially, the depiction throughout the 300 pages of young Jesse's emerging, awakening, personal (sexual) identity. Never before in any gay fiction have I seen such a superb job of not telling about, but actually showing, "coming out." Of monitoring felt/unfelt urges; of tracking hidden/re-hidden feelings; of tracing ins-and-outs of emotions. On almost every page, Russell inserts superbly this hint and that tint, of Jesse's response, feeling, awareness, denial. It's like sophisticated military intelligence, a Distant Early Warning system... ... or a powerfully-penetrating medical x-ray or MRI... or a chemical test sensitive to slight changes, hues, stains... or a Case History which misses not one intricate step in the unfolding pattern. For me, this depiction of identity-emergence is Russell's top achievement here.And so the book became for me, "literature." Meaning, it did not just discuss (important and enduring) issues and emotions, but it actually

Paul Russell has demonstrated his gift for developing unforgettable characters in his previous work, but in his latest novel, he reaches new heights. The plot focuses on the uneasy interactions between the local citizens of a small town in upstate New York, and its growing faction of gay transplants from Manhattan and other urban areas. Russell manages to avoid any of the usual pitfalls inherent in such a plot in several ways. First, he steadfastly refuses to allow any of his characters to be totally good or totally bad. Instead, he allows their actions to show us believable human beings, all of whom have strengths and weaknesses. Second, he has captured the language patterns of the local populace with an uncanny ability. Anyone who has been among people like this will immediately recognize how accurate Russell's ear is. The result is that the contrast between the dialogue of the local people and the gay "elite" is all the more striking because it so truthfully reflects what one would really hear. Russell effectively underscores the differences between the two groups by literally allowing them to speak for themselves. This level of finesse is extremely difficult to achieve and most authors are wise enough to not even attempt it, at least not as thoroughly as Russell has done. That Russell not only takes on the challenge but succeeds so completely is a high tribute to his talent.Finally, his characters themselves seem to rise above the plot, which could have devolved into a simple "us versus them" story in less gifted hands. The novel is never totally plot-driven, but it's not just a series of character studies, either. Instead, Russell has integrated character and plot in a way that one rarely sees.The most amazing thing about all of these accomplishments is that Russell manages to achieve them almost effortlessly. The book is a joy to read, written so beautifully and skillfully that you don't want it to end, but you cannot put it down. "War Against the Animals" joins a handful of other novels that are so outstanding that they surpass the confines of gay-themed genre literature and instead are classics that stand on their own merits.

So why could I not put this book down, to save some of the pleasure until later, without soon greedily picking it up again? Apparently plot, theme, characters, style-and two looks at love.Plot. Lively conflict between smalltown New York redneck villagers and the influx of gay-male weekenders. (Hetero majority vs. homo deviancy.) Also conflict between young native Jesse and his emerging desires within himself, and his straight-culture family tradition. Okay, nothing new there, a universal plot. (Think Romeo-and-Juliet conflicts.) But Russell does it well. He splices nicely the "timely" (the still-present terrible conflict between gay urges and their psychological and sociocultural repression) with the "timeless" (any conflict between Self and Society).Theme. With gay character Cameron being seropositive and having lost lovers to AIDS, it's also about mortality, the most universal plot of all. Okay, also done before. But Russell also does that well. He somehow weaves seamlessly the HIV-specific (Cameron's viral loads and T-cell counts, his lost lovers and friends) into the so-general precariousness of everybody, you and me.Characters. Russell paints people well, both the pencillings of har-de-harumph traditional lowerclass culture, and also the Portrait Gallery of pretty, precious, prissy gay male microculture. Again, done and done again before. But once more, Russell does it as well as any.Style. Throughout the book, Russell can interweave thematically, the echoing motif of "animals" hunted, from vegetarianism to roadkill to Jesse's tortured dreams to symbolic gay-straight warfare.But what I found especially great are at least two other elements worthy of the skill of Russell (especially as seen in his The Coming Storm). Two facets of lust/love. First, the yearning of fortysomething gay AIDS widower Cameron for the local boy-man Jesse. Poignantly done: not neurotic, just natural attraction to his youth and beauty--but also to his own appealing self. Is this love? Russell superbly re-creates oh the pain and ah the pleasure.But especially, the depiction throughout the 300 pages of young Jesse's emerging, awakening, personal (sexual) identity. Never before in any gay fiction have I seen such a superb job of not telling about, but actually showing, "coming out." Of monitoring felt/unfelt urges; of tracking hidden/re-hidden feelings; of tracing ins-and-outs of emotions. On almost every page, Russell inserts superbly this hint and that tint, of Jesse's response, feeling, awareness, denial. It's like sophisticated military intelligence, a Distant Early Warning system... ... or a powerfully-penetrating medical x-ray or MRI... or a chemical test sensitive to slight changes, hues, stains... or a Case History which misses not one intricate step in the unfolding pattern. For me, this depiction of identity-emergence is Russell's top achievement here.And so the book became for me, "literature." Meaning, it did not just discuss (important and enduring) issues a