Swish: A Review

41fdosKw9KL._SX331_BO1,204,203,200_This book was extraordinary from the beginning, but about two-thirds into it, it became something transcendent.

I began Swish: My Quest To Become the Gayest Person Ever and What Ended Up Happening Instead with an enjoyment for the clever language, the hyperbolic bitchiness, the erudite references, and the elaborate architecture of self-deprecatory humor and neurotic charm that salved the razor wounds of a too-keen insight. I read on for the confessions, the author’s outrageous adventures on his quest to reimagine himself, and the “widening gyre” of a present/past/present structure.

But I stayed for the compassion.

There is a chapter on Musical Theatre that might become, for me, a religious text. And there is a letter in the final chapter that I would do well to reread every year, then write my own version of to those whom I hold beloved.

Also this and geeky David Eddings references too! Plus, a nod to the film Farinelli (which I didn’t think anyone else in the world had seen), and this bit about windmills that made me cry. I learned the words “asah” and “bara” from Joel Derfner, and I’ll not soon forget them. They weren’t kidding when they called this book “searing.”

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