In this contemporary debut novel—an intimate portrait of queer, racial, and class identity —Andrés, a gay Latinx professor, returns to his suburban hometown in the wake of his husband’s infidelity. There he finds himself with no excuse not to attend his twenty-year high school reunion, and hesitantly begins to reconnect with people he used to call friends.
Over the next few weeks, while caring for his aging parents and navigating the neighborhood where he grew up, Andrés falls into old habits with friends he thought he’d left behind. Before long, he unexpectedly becomes entangled with his first love and is forced to tend to past wounds.
Captivating and poignant; a modern coming-of-age story about the essential nature of community, The Town of Babylon is a page-turning novel about young love and a close examination of our social systems and the toll they take when they fail us.
Oh wow a lot happened in this novel, and it all came together for the most part! The Town of Babylon follows Andrés, a gay Latinx professor of Public Health who returns to his suburban hometown after finding out that his husband cheated on him. Andrés attends his twenty-year high school reunion, and afterward he encounters many significant people from his past, including: his sexy first boyfriend who broke his heart, his best friend who he abandoned when he moved away for college, a white Evangelical minister who Andrés suspects of killing another boy back in high school in a homophobic rage, and his family, namely his brother who died after Andrés left for the city. These people force Andrés to reconcile not only his relationships with them but also his relationship with himself, flaws and all.
I’ll start by sharing that this book made me feel sad and depressed though in a positive way. Andrés purposefully left his hometown so he could create a better life for himself. Returning to this suburban landscape with many Trumps supporters and people who perpetuate microaggressions against him – it sucks. Not only from a political perspective, Andrés also must confront his own teenage inadequacies and selfishness. I thought Alejandro Varela did an excellent job of capturing Andrés’s angst. His writing felt easy-to-read yet vivid in a subdued, moody way. As a queer person of color who also worked hard to get out of my childhood home and hometown, I felt for Andrés as he navigated the intersection of his Latinx identity, his queerness, and just the mess of his adolescence and his past regrets and issues.
I felt a bit concerned about if Varela would be able to wrap up the book in a satisfying way, though thankfully he pulls it off with style and sophistication. Andrés is still a sometimes annoying and definitely flawed character by the end of the book, though he grows a lot in how he treats people and reflects on his past, especially his relationship with his dead brother. Varela did an excellent job of showing how oftentimes, you can’t really grow and move forward until you face your issues, even if it feels hard. This element of the book reminds me of the superb James Baldwin quote: “Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.” Also, I give props to Varela for his on-point political commentary related to racism, colorism, and what immigrants and refugees leave behind when they come to the United States.
There were just a couple elements of The Town of Babylon that didn’t 100% work for me. First, I felt like there was a lot happening, and I don’t know if all of it had to happen for the book to work. Namely, the storyline with the homophobic Evangelical priest. I can see how people may resonate with that plot if they encountered that type of brutal homophobia in their teen years – which I luckily managed to avoid, mostly – and I’m all for pointing out the hypocrisy of people who preach love though practice hate. I just felt like that plotline didn’t wrap up in an altogether satisfying way and I wondered if that’s because it had to compete with all the other storylines for space. Finally, there were a couple of times where Varela left Andrés’s perspective and went into the point-of-view of a bunch of different people, including the homophobic priest’s parents and his best friend’s parents. While I can see how that provides more in-depth perspective into those characters’ lives, I wondered if the emotional impact of the novel would’ve felt even greater if we stuck a bit closer to Andrés.
As you can see I had feelings and thoughts about this book so it didn’t bore me! I think this author released a short story collection so I may check that one out. Overall, one of the stronger novels I’ve read in 2023, and here’s hoping for even more and even better.
The premise of this novel sounded so amazing that I thought this would be one of my favorite reads of 2022! Sadly, that's not what happened.
The blurb was misleading as it made it seem as if the novel was going to revolve around a juicy and fascinating high-school reunion, but instead, that was merely a blip, barely even a chapter, in a story that was instead and in actuality largely the author's politics masquerading as a barely plotted stream of consciousness. Even worse, it felt like it was basically a collection of short stories with way too many characters and subplots to follow and count; knowing that the author admitted that their short story collection didn't sell, so they turned it into a novel instead, and had to do this in 13-weeks, adds even more insult to injury. The Town of Babylon isn't the only novel I've seen this year where, by the author's admittance, it was originally a short story collection, but because short story collections are notoriously hard to sell unless they've all been published by mainstream and high-brow publications, or you're a famous author, it was easier to sell it as a "novel" instead, especially as a debut. Look, I get it as a business strategy, a writer's got to do what they got to do, and clearly, it's working for them at the end with their book deal(s). Kudos to authors who are honest about it. But it's dishonest. We didn't sign up for that. Even if us readers didn't know, we can still tell that we're reading something that is trying to be something that it isn't and never was intended to be and is being rushed and forced to do so.
It tries, but a novel this is not. It's not that the writing is bad, but it was really inconsistent. The moments where the writing's given a chance to breathe, where it's not being suffocated by a lot of dense, tedious, and unnecessary description, the characters come to life, but then all too suddenly and quickly and constantly, The Town of Babylon tries too hard to convey time and place, and where you can tell that the author relied too much on a thesaurus instead of letting his voice and more natural vocabulary and word choices do the work. The characters were interesting, but they are too one-dimensional, and I never cared to get to know them. This book was all-telling, no showing. I still can't get over how the plot on the blurb was non-existent in the novel itself, on how the blurb on the book's jacket was better than the novel itself! It was just so disappointing that most of the book was virtue-signaling and preachy. It's not that I don't agree with the points being made about race, ableism, poverty, being Latinx in a mostly white suburbia, queer relationships/marriages, intergenerational trauma, and so on, but this is supposed to be a novel, not a sociology textbook. It felt like we were dished out a laundry list of important topics that's mentioned through internal dialogue/monologues. It's one thing if it were engaging, but it was tedious, forced, and pretentious, like we were being lectured.
I get what the author was trying to do, I really do. It promised so much and didn't deliver. There was A LOT of potential for a novel that could be as equally commercial as it is literary, but it was never enjoyable and felt like a chore. This could have been amazing; Alejandro can write, his voice is necessary, urgent, and refreshing, but this was a let down BECAUSE he is talented, and you know he can do better and deserves better. As is common with a lot of debuts, the author's personal opinions and politics get in the way and weave-through and dominate over the plot, and the intriguing story gets lost all together. It's a shame, because also, isn't the cover incredible? Again, so much promise, such frustrating execution! Even though I was disappointed and less than impressed, I'll still keep looking out for this author and hope that his next novel will be spectacular.
Alejandro Varela's The Town of Babylon is a smart reflection on life growing up in American suburbia when your queer and non-white.
Andres is a public health worker married to a surgeon, Marco, when he returns home to his unnamed suburban hamlet to care for his ailing father in the midst of his own relationship challenges with Marco. Despite his hesitations, he decides to attend his class reunion where he meets a litany of Trump supporters, an ex-lover, and the absence of his closet childhood friend. Andres reconnects with people he's lost - including Simone, his best friend who is in a mental health institution, mourns the loss of his brother, and reflects on the ways in which suburbia abuses people who (racially) look different, who immigrate from other places, and who are queer.
Varela can write, and his storytelling propels his characters forward with depth and complexity. As a reader, you're forced to juggle the competing tensions of Andres personal challenges and likability with his arrogant tendencies that lend themselves to him looking down on the people from his childhood. The book does get preachy in a way that can be frustrating; Varela falls victim to the same tendency many left-leaning authors seem to fall prey to in that he tells his readers what to think where perhaps showing them would be far more powerful. Nonetheless, put this book on your reading list for this year, and you won't be disappointed.
4.5 // Yeah, there’s A LOT going on in this novel. Sure, it might be trying to cover way too much. There are soooo many tangents, but, honestly, I loved that about it. I was always engaged. A shocker considering I went into it thinking I was going to dislike it; don’t know why. This was like a reading a queer and looser version of a Franzen novel.
2.5 stars Sometimes you just want a story with a plot. This book is not that.
I tried connecting to any one character, which was difficult to do with so many of them— the only consistency remained the professor —and main character— Andrés, who popped in every now and then to relay what was actually happening. The chapters from Andrés’ perspective were 10% plot and 90% irrelevant inner monologue. Even if that weren’t the case, I just didn’t even enjoy reading from his perspective. His thoughts seemed forced and pretentious, deeming him unlikeable almost from the start. Even when he made mistakes, his holier-than-thou attitude made sure to reinforce that he was better than any of his peers.
I think I understand what the author was trying to accomplish with this book— maybe? I didn’t enjoy reading it after a few chapters, because I was honestly just bored. Before I began reading, I wasn’t thinking that I was signing on for a collection of short stories and pages upon pages of social commentary on a fictitious town, but alas.
Frankly, I would have enjoyed it a lot more had I not read the description and gone in blind, rather than expecting any sort of satisfying beginning, middle, or end.
Andrés is back in town because his father is quite sick, which coincides with his 20 yr high school reunion. He hasn't gone to any of the other reunions because there are a myriad of people that he's avoiding or with whom he has unfinished business with but he decides to go to this one.
It's a reunion of old friends and classmates but it's a reflection and reconstruction of his upbringing in this white suburban town that raised him and scorned him in daily harmful ways. In covert and not so covert racist ways, never fully accepting him. He was too dark, too gay (even though he hadn't publicly come out), not fully accepted.
And yet he's the one who got out. But you can't escape that racist ideology for he fell into some hierarchical colorist trappings (vastly more convoluted) but racist nonetheless.
In a lot of ways the things left unresolved and unsaid have been working on him internally. He had managed to shut it all up and lock it away but maybe opening up the past and dealing with what's happened can be freeing.
The book is fun and smart and overall a very refreshing, heart breaking but heart mending book. (4.5)
A compelling story of midlife musing that is touching, funny, and smart. Varela touches on both big picture societal injustices while also sharing the small moments and connections between friends, family, and lovers and how we are both caught in larger patterns and helping each other through them.
Finally, the book that Jonathan Franzen would write if he had talent. (And was gay and Latinx.)
'The Town of Babylon" strikes me, paradoxically, as a sweeping work of autofiction, in which the author is less interested in mythologizing himself than he is in fitting his personal narrative into a vision of America as the land of immigrants who are always finding new ways to hate each other. (And can you honestly come up with a more accurate description of this country? I can't.) My favorite parts of "Town" feature Mr. Varela's hyper-polemical leftist narrator, Andrés (anglicized to Andy), trying to make sense of the bland Republican suburb where he grew up stoned and closeted (the former sometimes complicating the later, as you can imagine). Impressively, he finds no easy answers although he kind of hints that most Trump supporters have turned to extremist politics as a way of dealing with personal trauma (I kind of like that theory, in truth). Of less interest to me is Andrés sex life, but at least Mr. Varela writes well enough to keep things from getting trite or turgid. I even like Mr. Varela's digressions from the main storyline, where he delves into the backgrounds of supporting or even marginal characters. Such asides usually strike me as self-indulgent, but here, they contribute to the theme if not the plot. My only real problem with "Town" is some sloppy editing, like when Andrés seems to lose count of the number of, um, male appendages he got to see as a child. But he's a complex enough character that Mr. Varela has some plausible deniability when it comes to his hero's candor or memory.
Enjoyable debut novel from Alejandro Varela about a Latinx gay (married) male college professor returning to his nameless (despite the title!) hometown suburb to deal with his ailing father and attend a high school reunion where his encounters a friend, a lover, and a bully. This seems like a pretty predictable plot line, but Varela mixes things up with an exploration of homophobia, racism, classism, mental health, political divides, etc. While I was certainly on the same page - both literally and figuratively - as Varela in all these areas, it felt, at times, like a laundry list of things Varela wanted to get off his chest (understandably so! who doesn't need that these days?). Likewise, the novel occasionally detours away from the main protagonist Andrés' story which I found a bit distracting even tho it expanded the world and story of 'Babylon.' (Also, while I am it -- pretty wishy-washy about the cover too.)
Despite these fairly typical debut novel quibbles, this was still a quite good and enjoyable read. No quibbles about more queer stories and more queer stories of color (says the middle-aged white gay guy). I will definitely keep any eye out for Varela's next novel due to be published last year (and how can I resist the title: "The People Who Report More Stress"?). Unofficial 3.5 stars, but a Goodreads round down to 3 "like it" stars.
Loved this. I just love contemporary queer books about ordinary life messes. Just, so much. This was a great one. I had a super busy week and didn't have much time to read and then I sat down with this novel and just read it cover to cover and it was an absolute joy. Read my review here: https://booksandbakes.substack.com/p/...
Really good writing that kept me engaged and entertained! I enjoyed the mix of story and social commentary especially relating to health and life expectancy. Not usually a fan of literary fiction but would definitely recommend this one!
This is a story about community. Andrés is a Latinx professor of public health, living in the city with his husband. He long ago left behind the suburban town where his immigrant parents settled and he grew up, and he deliberately stayed out of touch with his former friends and classmates. When his father gets sick, though, Andrés returns to his hometown to help his mother with his care. Back in his hometown, and dealing with a rocky period in his own marriage, Andrés decides to attend his twenty-year high school reunion -- and it is just as awkward as he feared.
While at the reunion, Andrés learns the one person he was most hoping to see, his best friend Simone, is now in a psychiatric institution in town. He does run into Jeremy, his first love who broke his heart after a relationship they felt they needed to keep secret, who is now married to a woman with two children. He also sees Paul, who Andrés has long suspected of having killed a man in a homophobic hate crime, now a minister and father of five children. Over the course of his short stay back in his hometown, Andrés reconnects with Jeremy, Simone, each of his parents, and even Paul, learning more about their lives, confronting his own assumptions about their experiences, and finally facing long-simmering issues from his childhood and its aftermath.
This book was great. By alternating between the perspectives of Andrés and others in his life and between the present and various points in the past, the novel explores several important issues in a nuanced and compelling way.
The author does a terrific job of depicting what it was like to be a queer teenager in the '90s, feeling the need to cover and stay in the closet and how that impacted all of Andrés's relationships — with his parents, his brother, his classmates, and, most of all, with his first love. The interactions between Andrés and Jeremy, while they are teenagers and in the present, are particularly poignant. The book also offers penetrating insights into suburban life and how it intersects with issues around race, class, and mental health. Even as it adroitly addresses these weighty topics, the book is an engaging read.
What a beautiful telling of the complexities of life!
I really appreciated this book and feel that I’ve come out of it more thoughtful, empathetic, and aware of how multifaceted and complicated the human experience is.
Дебютный роман Алехандро Варелы The Town of Babylon (вышел в финалисты Национальный книжной премии США 2022) — история о встрече выпускников и размышление о жизни и взрослении небелого квира в американском пригороде.
Андрес - профессор и чиновник в системе здравоохранения — берет паузу в отношениях со своим мужем-хирургом и возвращается в родной городок, чтобы ухаживать за умирающим отцом. Спустя двадцать лет он впервые идет на встречу выпускников, где встречает бывшего любовника и надеется встретить лучшую подругу детства, но узнает, что она в психиатрической лечебнице. За несколько недель встреч и разговоров Андрес восстанавливает оборванные связи, навещает подругу в клинике, оплакивает смерть брата и размышляет о бытовом расизме и квирфобии в пригороде.
С несомненным умением повествователя Варела перемежает сюжет множественными флэшбеками в прошлое героя, раскрывает его характер и сложные отношения с семьей и одноклассниками, проясняет недосказанности с бывшем любовником-би, у которого сейчас жена и дети, и выводит на чистую воду пастыря, который когда-то избил и оставил умирать человека. Главы, посвященные родителям Андреса — эквадорским мигрантам, в середине века начавшим в Америке новую жизнь на самых низах социальной лестницы, — довольно сильно напоминали “Бруклин” Колма Тойбина.
Глубина и некоторая приятность характера Андреса уравновешена его снобистской склонностью смотреть свысока на бывших одноклассников, не добившихся таких же, как у него, карьерных высот. Нередко разговоры Андреса берут назидательный тон, особенно когда его голосом явно пользуется сам автор, попадая в ловушку актуального левого сторителлинга: говорит читателям, что им думать, вместо того, чтобы художественными средствами мягко подтолкнуть их к тем же самым мыслям.
Andrés è un professore universitario filgio di immigrati latinoamericani. Vive a New York con il marito Marco, ma la loro relazione è in crisi dopo un tradimento. Convinto che la distanza possa sanare le ferite, Andrés torna nella sua cittadina natale nei sobborghi di Long Island per prendersi cura dei genitori, e partecipa suo malgrado a una rimpatriata del liceo. Ma tornare significa riscoprirsi vulnerabile, ed esporsi ai ricordi che affiorano prepotenti: Andrés rivive la paura e la sfida di sentirsi un outsider nel piccolo mondo della provincia; incontra il suo primo amore, Jeremy, ora sposato e con figli; e rivede l'amica Simone, ricoverata in un ospedale psichiatrico. E mentre ripercorre il passato che hanno condiviso, l'amicizia e la passione che li ha tenuti insieme anche nei momenti più bui, Andrés si ritrova a scegliere tra un antico sogno di gioventù e la certezza del presente, tra illusioni e speranze..
Andrés deve ritornare nella cittadina dov’è cresciuto per assistere i genitori. Il padre ha subito un intervento e la madre sta invecchiando. Si è ricostruito una vita lontano da lì, ma soprattutto dalla sua problematica giovinezza in quei sobborghi dove imperava razzismo e omofobia. Si ritroverà a partecipare ad un ritrovo con i compagni di liceo. Sarà per lui l’occasione per affrontare il passato e prendere decisioni per il futuro.
“Il problema è che ho eretto questo muro tra me e loro per così tanto tempo e ho paura di quello che potrebbe accadere se alzassi le braccia e spuntassi fuori. Il muro ricadrebbe su di me? Su di loro?”
Per Andrés, ritornare nel quartiere dov’è nato è difficile. È figlio di immigrati latinoamericani, due persone oneste, due ottimi genitori. Si erano trasferiti lì attratti dall’idea di una casa più grande ad un costo accessibile, in un luogo tranquillo. Non sapevano che avrebbero vissuto in un sobborgo di immigrati, dove imperava la discriminazione nei confronti di chi non aveva la pelle bianca. Un piccolo e squallido mondo in balìa dei pregiudizi e dell’emarginazione. Andrés se li è sentiti cuciti addosso da sempre.
Ha vissuto un’adolescenza tra i timori e le difficoltà di costruirsi una facciata di ordinario anonimato con lo scopo di celare la sua vera natura. Era l’unico modo per sopravvivere lì.
È sempre stato un giovane studioso, intelligente ed educato. Ha frequentato un’università prestigiosa grazie ai suoi meriti ed è diventato un professore universitario. La sua omosessualità è stata a lungo un segreto, così come la sua prima e antica relazione con Jeremy, un compagno di scuola, figlio di immigrati bianchi.
Jeremy non è come lui. È uno che vive alla giornata senza crucciarsi troppo per il futuro. È bello e disinvolto, anche se gli anni e gli abusi trascorsi hanno inciso sul suo aspetto. Un tempo era tra i giovani più affascinanti del liceo, conquistava con facilità ragazze e ragazzi, ma era Andrés che amava. Sognava di fuggire con lui lontano da lì, incurante del futuro del giovane amico, vincitore di una borsa di studio all’università. I suoi desideri, però, non erano destinati a realizzarsi ed era, così, rimasto nella loro cittadina da solo, passando da una dipendenza all’altra fino alla disintossicazione e al matrimonio con Tonya.
“Siamo come due terremoti adiacenti fuori sincrono, il cui effetto combinato è una turbolenza correttiva che neutralizza le nostre ansie” – Babylon Tra i vecchi compagni di scuola ci sono anche l’amica Simone e l’inquietante Paul.
Simone è una giovane di colore, omossessuale come lui, figlia di un padre schizofrenico e di una madre con la quale coltiva da sempre un rapporto conflittuale. Un tempo è stata una grande appassionata di sport al liceo, oltre ad essere una tra le migliori atlete. Purtroppo la vita le ha dato il medesimo destino del padre, costringendola al ricovero in un ospedale psichiatrico.
Paul, di origine polacca, è orfano di madre e figlio di un uomo crudele e depravato, perennemente insoddisfatto, pronto a far pesare il suo scontento sui figli. Il ragazzo è cresciuto in un clima di degrado morale, diventando a sua volta un bullo violento e incapace di controllare la rabbia. Per Andrés non sarà facile affrontarlo poiché conosce un orribile segreto che lo riguarda.
“È una storia che risuona come un monito, un vincitore che dichiara bancarotta” – Babylon
Il linguaggio narrativo è accessibile, ma del tutto privo di ovvietà. Questo perché ricco di metafore che, se da un lato ne semplificano la comprensione, dall’altro inducono ad una maggior riflessione. Da essa nascono numerosi quesiti, le cui risposte giungono in corso di lettura. Nulla è lasciato in sospeso.
Il ritmo di “Babylon” è molto rapido, in quanto la trama si presenta dinamica e appassionante. L’autore ci presenta un realistico affresco di una comunità americana provinciale dove la diversità rappresenta un problema da risolvere attraverso la costruzione ideale di barriere. Oltre a forme di velato evitamento, frutto di ipocrisia e vigliaccheria. Una famiglia di bianchi apprezza solo in apparenza il compagno di scuola di colore della figlia. Gli si riconosce buona educazione e meriti scolastici. Ma la stessa famiglia scatenerebbe il putiferio qualora la figlia si ritrovasse ad uscire con lo stesso giovane o lo annoverasse anche solo tra i suoi amici. I pregiudizi in merito all’etnia e alla differenza culturale si allargano anche ad altre sfere, la prima tra le quali è l’orientamento sessuale. Questo in un contesto dei giorni nostri, in un paese come l’America.
“A quanto pare le persone sono in grado di accendere e spegnere il proprio razzismo; soltanto non sono capaci di scegliere SPENTO come impostazione predefinita”
Il passato si rappresenta attraverso alcuni salti temporali, frutto dei ricordi del protagonista, narratore in prima persona. Si tratta della sua storia, della sua famiglia e di alcuni ex compagni di scuola. Quindi il racconto è piuttosto vario. Personaggi, contesti e situazioni sono fotografate dall’autore con spietato realismo. Una scrittura che attrae e coinvolge anche per questo.
“Cercava in tutti i modi di prendere coraggio, di trovare i momenti in cui avere il controllo sulla sua vita, il controllo necessario a tutti gli esseri viventi per sopravvivere”
Ho letto “Babylon” in breve tempo, nonostante le sue quasi quattrocento pagine. La storia è molto varia e corre da sé, oltre a vantare di tematiche importanti e personaggi dotati di una certa unicità. La scrittura di Varela, inoltre, è affascinate in quanto analitica senza essere artificiosa. Trasmette messaggi importanti come la capacità di perdonare e soprattutto quella di separare ciò che rappresenta l’ideale dalla ciò che è la vita vera. Non c’è nulla di più ingannevole di certi sogni di gioventù. Le strade non intraprese, si sa, sono sempre un richiamo affascinante anche se illusorio. Saprà resistere ad esso il nostro protagonista? Lo scoprirete solo leggendo…
READ THIS BOOK!!!! Thank you at @netgalley and @astrahouse for my gifted e-arc of this book. I have to start off by saying that this book deserves all the stars! I LOVED it. I don't read much Contemporary Fiction, but I learned that the author was Salvadoran so I had to read it! We meet Andres who's gone back to his hometown because his dad is sick. Andres wants to help his mom take care of him. While there he decides to attend his high school 20 year reunion. He reunites with his first love Jeremy and his other friends. The characters in this book were such a highlight to me. They felt so real and even with their flaws. My favorite were Andres parents. They reminded me so much of my parents being immigrants in the US. I loved the writing in this book. I highlighted so many quotes. Alejandro Varela really has a beautiful way with words.
This writer is really good at analyzing people and getting concepts down in succinct phrases. I'll read more by him, certainly. But this book felt cluttered, trying to do too much all at once, and felt aimless. I guess it was originally a short story collection repackaged as a novel? It surprisingly didn't feel cohesive even though it's all set in one town with a smallish cast of characters. Tried to cover too much ground.
This had really great moments in terms of storytelling and character, but more often than not it seemed like the author’s way of exploring social themes important to him. Of course I feel that literature is the perfect avenue to explore social issues, but not at the expense of character and a narrative. As Tayari Jones said, good books are about people and their problems, not problems and their people.
A remarkable peek beneath the layers of everyday life suffused with critical perspectives on what it means to be Latinx, queer, poor, and so many other things.
This is a clever, painful, and thoroughly condescending book! I am really glad I finished it, because I am always excited about modern explorations of queer people in suburbia. I also think the author has a knack for constructing ensemble casts that eventually feel useful, and not just random. However, the narrator’s elitism became just too much of an ick for me (as a reminder, I’m a Virgo, so this is saying a lot!!)
The Clever Moments I initially picked up this book because I’d been drawn to a brief excerpt I read from it, where the author was describing the harrowing experience of being a pedestrian along a suburban arterial road. As a trained urban planner, this immediately drew me in, and on this topic, Alejandro Varela mostly doesn’t disappoint. The Town of Babylon has so many smart observations about the built environment within suburbia, and how it alters human connection. I intentionally use the word “alters” here, because while the author would argue that the built environment stifles human connection, I think that’s too limiting of a view to take.
Varela is also strategic about his narrators’ reflections, which makes it les annoying than you might think to be in Andrés head for most of the story, followed by a few other voices. It felt like Varela was often keeping a secret with the reader, against the narrator—he structured their musings in a way where we as readers could recognize the hypocrisy and dishonesty of their thoughts. For me, it created an effect where I felt able to see through these characters and their stagnancy, and appreciate what the author was trying to do by mostly creating situations where they never progressed emotionally. Here is one of my favorite examples of this sort of trick: “Our therapist believes that I sought out Marco for his dependability…which is why his infidelity has hurt me so much. And yet, I’ve often wondered what it would be like to have a partner who is more spontaneous. Someone who pushes me. To be politically radical. Or sexually adventurous. Not someone who rarely removes his socks. Not someone who watches cable news. In other words, the cheating was the most spontaneous thing Marco had ever done, and there might be something optimistic to draw from it. In the long run.” (177)
I was also very impressed by how the novel’s varying POVs grew on me. The first time we switched away from Andrés, I was immediately complaining about it. I had come to enjoy the quasi-omniscient focus on the town, and so reading from the POV of Henry or Simone’s parents or Paul’s dad (!?!) felt really weird and off topic. Over time, this feels like another brilliant and intentional choice from Varela—to show how uncomfortable it feels to go deeper into people’s stories than the “polite neighborly culture” of the town allows. By the end, I felt thankful for the greater level of understanding these transitions allowed for, and ultimately felt that some POVs (like Simone’s mom) were more interesting than the chapters narrated by Andrés.
The Painful Moments Speaking of Simone and her parents: oh, my heart. If you’ve ever had a loved one who struggles with mental health, and particularly has dealt with behavioral health institutions, this is the part of this story that will break you. This arc has a lot of my favorite topics in it, including the unsustainable nature of Black upward mobility across the generations. There are so many “what if?” moments in Simone and her father’s experiences, and Varela’s interpretation of the wife-and-mother-as-hamstrung-caregiver resulted in many, many feels. Basically, IYKYK and if you had trouble with the content in Transcendent Kingdom, I’d tread lightly with this one, too.
Even outside of Simone and her family, the people in this story are just DEEPLY, DEEPLY SAD. There is no other way I can think to explain it, but this whole book felt like it was set on a rainy day. I kept thinking this story was set somewhere in North Jersey, surrounded by a bunch of brutalist architecture and gray cement. This exact dreary quality was why I DNF’ed this book in 2022, and while I am glad I returned and finished it in 2023, I do not disagree with my initial impression. I am impressed by the author’s ability to keep you in this sorrow-laden landscape, but it is not always a pleasant experience. I guess it’s just preparing me for how I’ll feel during all of House of the Dragon Season 2…
The Condescending Moments UGH…this is why this is a 3.5 star review for me, and rounded down!!! I talked earlier about how Varela often seems to be laughing at his characters with the reader, and you could argue that Andrés is the main example of this. However, the constant—and increasingly basic—gripes about suburbia got to a point where I had a headache at nearly every new complaint Andrés made about his hometown. In a book as dreary as this, let’s just say that was a lot to stomach. I think it particularly breaks down because unlike the dark, comedic nature of Andrés’ snobbery in the beginning of the story, by the end, he mostly sounds like those TikTok skits where someone who thinks they’re “sooooo cool” for living in the city annoy everyone while they’re back home for the holidays. Coming from an author as talented as Varela, narrative rants like this one on 111 just felt lazy:
“I hate this place. I hate the town, the neighboring towns, the towns I used to know well, the towns I’ve never been to, the highways, the main roads, the side roads, the back roads, the left-turn arrows, the no-right-on-red signs, the speeding, the tailgating, the railroad crossings, the parking lots, the malls, the houses, the lawns, the people—above all, the people. The very notion of suburbs. I hate all of it. As far as I can tell, the suburbs are where people go to preserve their ignorance, in service of a delusion they’ve mistaken for a dream. They tired of the more interesting human experiment and fled. Cowards, the lot. Working class, middle class, and one-per centers alike. Or maybe I’m just cranky about how early it is. Maybe there are suburbs that work, and it’s all more subtle than I’ve imagined. Maybe some folks have no choice. Anything is possible, I guess. What I am certain of is that I’m embarrassed by this place. And I wish I didn’t ever have to return.”
This sort of boilerplate snobbery drives me up a wall, especially from my fellow suburbanites!! The majority of queer city dwellers are gentrifying someone else’s hometown while talking down on their own, and there is no sort of awareness that they are actually living as much of an oppressive lifestyle as the people they criticize. I also think it’s a cop-out for Varela to construct such a layered, fascinating suburb as the one in this story, only to have its main narrator constantly trash it as an “[un]interesting human experiment.” There is lots of interesting content in this setting, and at times, I feel like the main narrator’s constant drag kept us from truly exploring it. I promise if Andrés made seven less snarky remarks about the voting patterns of his classmates, there would be time for much smarter reflections on their hometown’s social dynamics. Readers like me would have GREATLY appreciated the substitution!!!
Final Thoughts This one is dreary, but an accomplishment nonetheless! If you’re interested in the subject matter (queers back in their suburban hometowns), but are looking for a more upbeat selection, I would point you in the direction of Homebodies by Tembe Denton-Hurst.
I actually would recommend The Town of Babylon to fellow planners who are THOUGHTFUL about the varied social patterns/population groups within the suburbs, and who understand the importance of regional planning. I think excerpts from Varela’s novel could be a great complement to a reading group about the built environment, for instance. However, if you are a self-congratulatory “leftist” who likes to look down on anywhere that isn’t the neighborhood you moved to four years ago, keep it pushing!! This book will probably inflate your head even larger, and create a headache for anyone with the misfortune of attending Planning Workshop with you.
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Home » Recensione libri » Recensione: Babylon di Alejandro Varela Recensione: Babylon di Alejandro Varela
Pubblicato da ludovais in Recensione libri, Recensioni MM 26/06/2023
Titolo: Babylon
Autore: Alejandro Varela
Editore: NN Editore
Genere: narrativa
Target:+16
Data di pubblicazione: 19 maggio 2023
Andrés è un professore universitario figlio di immigrati latinoamericani. Vive a New York con il marito Marco, ma la loro relazione è in crisi dopo un tradimento. Convinto che la distanza possa sanare le ferite, Andrés torna nella sua cittadina natale nei sobborghi di Long Island per prendersi cura dei genitori, e partecipa suo malgrado a una rimpatriata del liceo. Ma tornare significa riscoprirsi vulnerabile, ed esporsi ai ricordi che affiorano prepotenti: Andrés rivive la paura e la sfida di sentirsi un outsider nel piccolo mondo della provincia; incontra il suo primo amore, Jeremy, ora sposato e con figli; e rivede l’amica Simone, ricoverata in un ospedale psichiatrico. E mentre ripercorre il passato che hanno condiviso, l’amicizia e la passione che li ha tenuti insieme anche nei momenti più bui, Andrés si ritrova a scegliere tra un antico sogno di gioventù e la certezza del presente, tra illusioni e speranze. Babylon è una lucida metafora dell’America di oggi, dove razzismo e conflitto sono ormai sedimentati nel tessuto delle relazioni, famiglie, coppie, amicizie. Con una voce onesta e provocatoria, in cui risuona l’eco delle lingue che oggi popolano il paese, Alejandro Varela racconta di uomini e donne che resistono e non si arrendono a un futuro di esclusione, e che costruiscono la propria felicità ogni giorno, un amore alla volta.
Andrés ha una vita apparentemente perfetta: una carriera invidiabile come professore universitario, un marito che ama e che vorrebbe anche dei bambini. Ma le apparenze celano verità nascoste e dolori profondi. Così come da ragazzo è sempre (o quasi) stato ubbidiente con i genitori e bravo a scuola, anche ora Andy è un uomo corretto, fedele e sostenitore del Partito Democratico. È uno dei rari esemplari che prima di pensare a sé, aspetta che il partner sia soddisfatto a letto!
Ma non è sufficiente essere irreprensibili per essere felici.
Marco lo ha tradito e sebbene lui lo abbia perdonato, i due fanno fatica a rimettere in sesto il loro rapporto, a riacquistare quella fiducia oramai compromessa. La malattia del padre è l’occasione per Andy di allontanarsi, di tornare a casa e con la distanza magari riuscire a ricominciare. Figlio di immigrati latino americani profondamente cattolici, capaci di costruirsi un futuro con sacrifici, umiltà e instancabile fatica, il professore è cresciuto cercando di non dare mai loro una delusione. La scoperta della sua omosessualità è stato uno shock per i genitori che però ora lo appoggiano e sono preoccupati per questa separazione da Marco a cui sono affezionati. Il ritorno nella cittadina d’origine permette a Andy di partecipare alla festa degli ex alunni del suo liceo vent’anni dopo il diploma.
“Negli ultimi vent’anni, queste rimpatriate hanno attraversato i miei pensieri come un corpo in caduta libera oppure aerei che si schiantano contro edifici, vale a dire in un baleno e, a volte, con un brivido. In quei momenti avevo paura di rivivere il passato, di scivolare senza scampo nella morsa…tra pochi minuti, tutto questo cambierà. Vent’anni di astinenza dal passato avranno fine.”
Quella cittadina che sembra quasi essersi congelata nel tempo, senza grandi cambiamenti se non nelle persone, negli amici di un tempo che hanno vite diverse come un omofobo violento diventato pastore o la sua più cara amica ricoverata in un ospedale psichiatrico. E poi c’è Jeremy, il suo Jeremy. Primo e forse mai dimenticato amore, colui che gli ha fatto battere il cuore e scoprire il piacere dei sensi, e anche colui che quello stesso cuore lo ha ridotto in pezzi. Lui è cambiato, ha una moglie e dei figli, naturalmente anche qualche filo grigio a striare il biondo cenere dei capelli oltre che pieghe e ombre che solcano il viso. Una nuova immagine che va a sovrapporsi a quella che popola i suoi ricordi da tanti anni. Nonostante lo scorrere inevitabile del tempo e le rughe, Jeremy è ancora affascinante ma sicuramente, non più il diciottenne che Andy reputava il ragazzo più bello che avesse mai conosciuto.
“La sua voce è rotta, nervosa. Siamo come due terremoti adiacenti fuori sincrono, il cui effetto combinato è una turbolenza correttiva che neutralizza le nostre ansie.”
Basta poco perché la familiarità tra i loro corpi, più che delle loro anime profondamente cambiate, li riavvicini: incontri rubati che lasciano Andy più vuoto che appagato, perché sembrano non avere un vero senso oltre a un piacere effimero. Al contrario per l’infelice Jeremy sono attimi colmi di speranza, l’illusione di poter ricominciare, di recuperare quel tesoro prezioso che si è lasciato sfuggire dalle dita: l’amore per quel ragazzo che gli aveva fatto perdere la testa e che continua a scombussolargli la vita.
“Jeremy aveva cambiato tutto. Andy non aveva mai percepito il potere e il peso dell’amore reciproco. Stare con Jeremy aveva tolto uno strato di artificio, lo aveva fatto sentire nuovo e vivo, ma anche vulnerabile. E per quanto tempo avrebbe dovuto essere così felice e libero prima di poter essere davvero una persona felice e libera? La persona che sarebbe stata se il mondo fosse come dovrebbe “
L’America di oggi, multietnica e multiculturale è in questo romanzo un affresco realistico e affascinante, con la descrizione di una cittadina qualsiasi ma, caratterizzata da scorci e ambienti suggestivi, popolata da personaggi normalissimi ma ritratti in modo irresistibile.
La scrittura elegante e ironica di Alejandro Varela, scevra di sentimentalismo, scardina con una prosa brillante, certezze e convinzioni, indagando tra dubbi e sentimenti in un continuo alternarsi tra passato e presente. Tradimento e perdono, reti familiari che ancorano ma allo stesso tempo spingono a fuggire, sono i punti cardine di un romanzo di grande impatto. Un ritratto di una delle tante cittadine americane dove immigrati che provengono da tutte le parti del mondo convivono in modo più o meno pacifico senza mai davvero integrarsi completamente gli uni con gli altri.
Ho amato le chiacchierate di Andy con l’amica Simone che nonostante i suoi problemi mentali si trova a esser quasi un grillo parlante, una confidente, l’unica a cui riesce a rivelare tutta la confusione, le tribolazioni e i dubbi che albergano la sua mente, soprattutto ora che deve barcamenarsi tra passato e presente, tra il primo amore e l’uomo che ha scelto per la vita.
“Come può un amore giovanile avere ancora un effetto così destabilizzante? In quasi vent’anni non ho dedicato a Jeremy più di una manciata di pensieri, perlopiù all’inizio.”
Babylon rientra a pieno titolo nella lista dei grandi romanzi americani per la capacità dell’autore di dare voce a persone normalissime, con vite come tante, che si trovano ad affrontare dolori, perdite, delusioni, malattie. Quello che lo rende speciale è il tratto ironico e brillante, malinconico ma anche divertente delle parole dell’autore. Le lacune della sanità, i problemi di integrazione, omofobia, razzismo anche tra etnie apparentemente simili ma che fanno del loro retaggio un punto d’onore e di distinzione sociale, sono argomenti trattati con grande padronanza e competenza dall’autore.
Termino con una parte della dedica, all’inizio del libro, che mi è piaciuta molto:
“A quelli che non sono mai stati i benvenuti. E a tutte le persone che sanno come condividere il maledetto marciapiede.”.