The Night Listener
  • The Night Listener
  • The Night Listener

The Night Listener

3.7 31
by Armistead Maupin

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"I'm a fabulist by trade," warns Gabriel Noone, a late-night radio storyteller, as he begins to untangle the skeins of his tumultuous life: his crumbling ten-year love affair, his disaffection from his Southern father, his longtime weakness for ignoring reality. Gabriel's most sympathetic listener is Pete Lomax, a thirteen-year-old fan in Wisconsin whose own

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"I'm a fabulist by trade," warns Gabriel Noone, a late-night radio storyteller, as he begins to untangle the skeins of his tumultuous life: his crumbling ten-year love affair, his disaffection from his Southern father, his longtime weakness for ignoring reality. Gabriel's most sympathetic listener is Pete Lomax, a thirteen-year-old fan in Wisconsin whose own horrific past has left him wise and generous beyond his years. But when this virtual father-son relationship is rocked by doubt, a desperate search for the truth ensues. Welcome to the complex, vertiginous world of The Night Listener.

Editorial Reviews
In the 19th century, almost every novelist -- from Dickens to Dostoevsky -- published his fiction serially in newspapers. By the end of the 20th century, Armistead Maupin, whose wildly popular Tales of the City first appeared in The San Francisco Chronicle, was one of the few remaining practitioners of the form. In his latest novel, The Night Listener, Maupin draws on his experience of being at the center of this serial phenomenon with a compelling story about a celebrity yarn-spinner who finds himself on the listening end of a tale he wants desperately to believe.

Product Details

HarperCollins Publishers
Publication date:
P.S. Series
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Product dimensions:
5.31(w) x 8.00(h) x 0.90(d)

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Chapter One
Jwelling The Elephant

I know how it sounds when I call him my son. There's something a little precious about it, a little too wishful to be taken seriously. I've noticed the looks on people's faces, those dim, indulgent smiles that vanish in a heartbeat. It's easy enough to see how they've pegged me: an unfulfilled man on the shady side of fifty, making a last grasp at fatherhood with somebody else's child.That's not the way it is. Frankly, I've never wanted a kid. Never once believed that nature's whim had robbed me of my manly destiny. Pete and I were an accident, pure and simple, a collision of kindred spirits that had nothing to do with paternal urges, latent or otherwise. That much I can tell you for sure.

Son isn't the right word, of course.

Just the only one big enough to describe what happened.

I'm a fabulist by trade, so be forewarned: I've spent years looting my life for fiction. Like a magpie, I save the shiny stuff and discard the rest; it's of no use to me if it doesn't serve the geometry of the story. This makes me less than reliable when it comes to the facts. Ask Jess Carmody, who lived with me for ten years and observed this affliction firsthand. He even had a name for it'The Jewelled Elephant Syndrome'after a story I once told him about an old friend from college.

My friend, whose name was Boyd, joined the Peace Corps in the late sixties. He was sent to a village in India where he fell in love with a local girl and eventually proposed to her. But Boyd's blue-blooded parents back in South Carolina were so aghast at the prospect of dusky grandchildren that they refused to attend the wedding in NewDelhi.

So Boyd sent them photographs. The bride turned out to be an aristocrat of the highest caste, better bred by far than any member of Boyd's family. The couple had been wed in regal splendor, perched atop a pair of jewelled elephants. Boyd's parents, imprisoned in their middle-class snobbery, had managed to miss the social event of a lifetime.

I had told that story so often that Jess knew it by heart. So when Boyd came to town on business and met Jess for the first time, Jess was sure he had the perfect opener. "Well," he said brightly, "Gabriel tells me you got married on an elephant."Boyd just blinked at him in confusion.

I could already feel myself reddening. "You weren't?"

"No," Boyd said with an uncomfortable laugh. "We were married in a Presbyterian church."

Jess said nothing, but he gave me a heavy-lidded stare whose meaning I had long before learned to decipher: You are never to be trusted with the facts.

In my defense, the essence of the story had been true. Boyd had indeed married an Indian girl he had met in the Peace Corps, and she had proved to be quite rich. And Boyd's parents'who were, in fact, exceptionally stuffy'had always regretted that they'd missed the wedding.

I don't know what to say about those elephants, except that I believed in them utterly. They certainly never felt like a lie. More like a kind of shorthand for a larger, less satisfying truth. Most stories have holes in them that cry out for jewelled elephants. And my instinct, alas, is to supply them.

I don't want that to happen when I talk about Pete. I will try to lay out the facts exactly as I remember them, one after the other, as unbejewelled as possible. I owe that much to my son'to both of us, really'and to the unscripted intrigues of everyday life.But, most of all, I want you to believe this.And that will be hard enough as it is.

I wasn't myself the afternoon that Pete appeared. Or maybe more severely myself than I had ever been. Jess had left me two weeks earlier, and I was raw with the realization of it. I have never known sorrow to be such a physical thing, an actual presence that weighed on my limbs like something wet and woolen. I couldn't write'or wouldn't, at any rate'unable to face the grueling self-scrutiny that fiction demands. I would feed the dog, walk him, check the mail, feed myself, do the dishes, lie on the sofa for hours watching television.

Everything seemed pertinent to my pain. The silliest coffee commercial could plunge me into profound Chekhovian gloom. There was no way around the self-doubt or the panic or the anger. My marriage had exploded in midair, strewing itself across the landscape, and all I could do was search the rubble for some sign of a probable cause, some telltale black box.

The things I knew for sure had become a litany I recited to friends on the telephone: Jess had taken an apartment on Buena Vista Park. He wanted space, he said, a place to be alone. He had spent a decade expecting to die, and now he planned to think about living. (He could actually do that, he realized, without having to call it denial.) He would meditate and read, and focus on himself for once. He couldn't say for sure when he'd be back, or if he'd ever be back, or if I'd even want him when it was over. I was not to take this personally, he said; it had nothing to do with me.

Then, after stuffing his saddlebags full of protease inhibitors, he pecked me solemnly on the lips and mounted the red motorcycle he had taught himself to ride six months earlier. I'd never trusted that machine. Now, as I watched it roar off down the hill, I realized why: It had always seemed made for this moment.

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Night Listener 3.7 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 31 reviews.
Qtbaby615 More than 1 year ago
It started off with the promise of a good story and ended with much less.
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Guest More than 1 year ago
The cover suggests that this novel is about an abused boy, dying from AIDS, who befriends a radio personality that he's never met, and that the plot twists will keep you enthralled. Unfortunately, that story only accounts for about 25% of the book. The rest is about the narrator's life as a gay man, including several graphic descriptions of sexual acts. If that interests you, buy the book. If, however, the ostensible plot attracts you (and it's actually a very interesing story), borrow the book and read the real-life account at the back. It's only about thirty pages, and it's much better than the novelized version.
Guest More than 1 year ago
This book brings to mind a shell game or the puzzle of opening a box only to find a smaller box, followed by successive smaller and smaller boxes. The story follows the thoughts, insecurites and sexual exploits of a moody gay man. Staying with the book page after page in order to garner the outcome of a teenage radio listener with aids finds the reader opening the last small box at the end only to find it empty. The story finally (mercifully) ends abruptly and you realize that you were duped by the author. The carrot (teenage boy plotline) was merely dangled to keep the reader from closing the book sooner. An implied promise that the storyline contains something besides the gay character and the author on a soapbox.
Guest More than 1 year ago
Refreshingly, now and then a book reminds us what the art of telling stories is all about. Maupin's success in the field of novel birthing does just that ...and so very much more. THE NIGHT LISTENER is a FINE mystery/love story/reminiscence and as such it is difficult to stop turning the pages, so involved is the unwinding of the tale. But to my eyes and mind this book is so much more than just a well-told tale complete with allegory and metaphor. This book studies the achingly long, ever-present clash of father/son relationships. Whether concocted as an adoptive father in search of a needy youth as in this book, or just examining the way all men are challenged by this complicated love/hate, approach/avoid, mimic/revolt interaction we live through as sons and subsequently as fathers, Maupin serves us a study of one of the core dilemmas we face. And as for the structure of this immensely rewarding novel, Maupin has given us the choices to determine our own resolutions about his beautifully drawn characters. In the early pages of the book he admits that his way of relating stories is always altered by flights of fancy, or 'bejeweling an elephant' that his tale takes us on such a kaleidoscopic ride is enhanced by his starting out with this sort of honesty. And in truth, isn't this the way we all electively distort history as we relate it.... to fulfill our hope and fantasies of how we actually exist? Grady Harp
Guest More than 1 year ago
Premise was enticing so I bought it. Started not liking it about halfway through but kept going expecting it would all come together (based on reviews of the book). Felt like I'd wasted my time when I finished. Never read anything by him before and, after this, never will again. Creepy too, and not in a good way.
Guest More than 1 year ago
It was very good book. It was worth of buying it, the only thing that dissapointed me it was the ending. I wanted to know more about what happened latter, was that boy really a fiction?? I think the ending was a litle weak, but overall i enjoyed this book. Great buy!!!
GailCooke More than 1 year ago
While the movie version of The Night Listener certainly didn't set any box office records, for this listener the audio rates high largely because of the affecting narration provided by author Armistead Maupin. This is a poignant story of a man who feels lost and unloved, and Maupin reads it with insight, illuminating the fears and doubts that possess protagonist Gabriel Noone. Gabriel comes to life at night - he's a Manhattan based late hours radio host, Noone At Night. He's also a gay man who has broken up with his partner, Jess. After finding himself evidently free of the AIDS virus Jess wants more in life than he is finding with Gabriel. While Gabriel only wanted Jess. Especially vulnerable due to an abusive father who publicly ridiculed him and would never recognize his homosexuality, Gabriel is depressed and feels useless. He seeks to assuage that feeling by connecting with a young fan, Pete Lomax, who lives in Wisconsin. Pete has suffered as much or more than Gabriel at the hands of physically abusive parents, and now in a struggle with AIDS. The two, Gabriel and Pete, quickly develop a warm, supportive father/son relationship all by telephone. Gabriel, of course, again feels needed. Eventually, Gabriel decides to go to Wisconsin to see Pete. What he finds there is totally unexpected. Those who enjoyed Tales of the City will once again find themselves enthralled by Maupin's prose. His voice is icing on the cake. - Gail Cooke
Guest More than 1 year ago
Having never read a Maupin novel before, I approached this one without expectations. I enjoyed it completely, completing it in three sittings. A page turner! Caution: there is adult language and content. Awesome read!
Guest More than 1 year ago
Recommended by an old high school friend (we are about to turn 50...), Night Listener proved to be a gem. Not just a page turner, either, though it certainly is that. Maupin has observant insights that reminded me why I so enjoyed his Tales of the City series years ago.
Guest More than 1 year ago
I really enjoyed this book, he takes thru every emotion that you can think that possible one person could handle. Highly recommend this book,can't wait for his next one.
Guest More than 1 year ago
The only bad thing about this book is that it ended. I love a book that makes me think. I can't stop thinking about all the clues that led the the various surprises at the end. I recommend this to anyone who likes a story with a twist.
Guest More than 1 year ago
I loved this book! Maupin did a wonderful job of telling this tale. The twists and turns kept coming the entire way throughout the book and I found myself unable to put it down. I read the Tales of the City series several years ago because they were recommended by a friend of mine back east. He knew I was relocating to San Francisco and thought I would enjoy the stories...and boy did I ever! I have to admit I wasn't able to really get into Maupin's 'Maybe the Moon' and didn't know whether or not I would enjoy 'The Night Listener.' I'm SO glad that I gave it a chance or I would have missed out on what has turned out to be one of my favorite books ever! Thanks Maupin...and keep the stories coming..I'm hungry for more more more! In fact, I think I'm going to go and try to read 'Maybe the Moon' again!
Guest More than 1 year ago
Guest More than 1 year ago
I bought Night Listener, because I will read anything written by A.Maupin. If you are an avid fan, this will disappoint. Though I believe it not to be his best, I hope he continues to create. I will definitely give him 1, 2, 3, 4, or even 5 chances to redeem himself. If Maupin has been recommended to you, start with the 'City' books.
Guest More than 1 year ago
.In 1993 either Paul Monette or Armistead Maupin (perhaps in concert) concocted a book claiming to be the true autobiography of an abused, aids-inflicted young teen-ager named, allegedly, Tony Johnson. The book was named ' A Rock and a Hard Place.' The book jacket came garlanded with ribbons of praise from confederates such as Fred Rogers, Marva Collins,and (of course) Armistead Maupin. Unfortunately, not a single word in the book was true. The putative author, despite extensive investigation on my part, was uncovered by no-one who had ever seen the bogus rascal, not even his agent, or his 'very best friend,' Paul Monette. The book was obviously a cruel hoax written for unknown reasons, perhaps pecuniary or social. The Pirandellian denouement is that Maupin has now produced a novel which recapitulates my role in trying to unmask the fraud, and confesses at the end that the Tony Johnson book was a hoax. So, what we have here, in The Silent Listener, is a novel claimed to be fictional based on an autobiography claimed to be true, which was, in fact, entirely fictional. Those of you out there tempted to buy the book may not wish to entrust yourself to the manipulation of such a deceitful writer.
Guest More than 1 year ago
I tried reading 'Tales' and never really could get into it. But this one is different. When I laughed out loud, in the store on page 2, I knew I had to own this book. It was like reading about people I know.