Love conquers all, especially such trivial things as monogamy and sexual orientation, in this polyamorous romance . . . a sprightlier comedy of modern manners.” —Kirkus Reviews
“Set in Swansea, Wales, The Giddy Death of the Gays & the Strange Demise of Straights is an engaging and thought-provoking read. It's a story about breaking free of restrictions—relationship conventions, geographical place, traditional gender identity.” —Out in Print
“Redfern Jon Barrett’s second novel is a fantastic ride through the lives of these Swansea residents. The Giddy Death of the Gays and the Strange Demise of Straights is recommended to any library that collects popular fiction.” —GLBT Roundtable of the American Library Association
“It is truly impossible to describe this book in a way that does it justice; just download it immediately.” —Paste Magazine
“If you want a book to be entertained, I recommend it. If you want a book to juggle interesting ideas, I recommend it . . . pick it up, read it, enjoy it, love it.” —Nicholas Kameniar-Sandery, for JOY 94.9
“This book is a fun way of considering how you feel about other people. Sexual activities are spoken of, but not spotlighted. It is the exploration of emotions that Barrett presents to his readers . . . and it speaks of individuals being free to express their emotional attachment to others without being labeled gay, straight . . . or . . . different.” —GABixlerReviews
“The Giddy Death of the Gays and Strange Demise of Straights should be mandatory reading because the subject matter is important thematically and so well conveyed. I would certainly recommend it for anyone looking for LGBT literature, but absolutely anyone else looking for a love/coming-of-age story.” —Illiterarty Book Review
“In The Giddy Death of Gays and the Strange Demise of Straights, Redfern Jon Barrett's rambunctious second novel, an oddball and one-of-a-kind romantic comedy, Swansea's not much of a habitat to celebrate. At best, the choral voices of Caroline, Rutti, Dom, and Richard, the novel's twentysomething first-person narrators, damn it with faint praise as relatively affordable and quiet; and as better than nothing. Usually, though, they dwell on faults. Bennett is accomplished at handling the quartet of distinct first-person narrators. Caroline, inhabiting the life of a geography postgrad has just enough money to both eat and pay rent. She works at a "shitty place that calls itself a bar." She’s in love with Dom, an introverted maths grad student. Richard’s shy, an avid gamer, and employed by a call center with a daily surplus of idiotic callers.” —Lambda Literary
“Each character takes centrestage and becomes the protagonist, not only in their designated first-person sections, but throughout. It takes real skill to make this reader identify with a straight woman, a straight man, a drag queen, a lesbian, and their fluctuating identities, all sometimes within a single chapter. Most importantly, it made me examine my own identities and question the strictures that I have built around them.” - MyGayToronto.com
2015-04-01
Love conquers all, especially such trivial things as monogamy and sexual orientation, in this polyamorous romance.Life for young people in the postindustrial squalor of Swansea, Wales, is a treadmill of dead-end jobs, drinking bouts in grotty bars, and run-ins with racist skinheads, leavened only by fluid but intense housemate relationships. One such blossoms when math grad student Dom moves in with Richard, a gamer geek who works at a call center. Soon they fall madly in love, which is a bit mystifying to everyone, including them, because they remain staunch heterosexuals who never have sex even when they sleep with each other. In fact, the main way the reader knows they are in love is that they frequently hug and say, "I love you." Dom's girlfriend, Caroline, is miffed by this turn until Dom convinces her that he can love her and Richard at the same time, at which point, things gravitate toward a polyamorous trio reinforced by more omnidirectional hugs and I love yous. Barrett's novel self-consciously celebrates the surmounting of gender categories and possessive attitudes that pose pointless barriers to human happiness and includes flash-forward scenes decades in the future when society—at least in Barcelona—has progressed enough to allow Dom, Richard, and Caroline to formalize their polyamorous marriage. (Indeed, gender becomes so passé that gender-neutral pronouns "zie" and "hir" are ubiquitous.) Alas, their relationship is too bland, schematic, and devoid of passion, sexual or otherwise, to really hold the reader's interest. Fortunately, the novel surrounds the central trio with livelier characters, including Caroline's domineering gal pal, Nomi, and gay waif Rutti, whose hilariously sardonic bitchery covers up a poignant loneliness. Barrett is a talented writer with a good feel for his rough-edged Welsh social setting and a sharp but sympathetic eye for the mores and foibles of the queer demimonde and its supporting culture of politically correct progressivism. Apart from the lackluster relationship at its core, this combination makes for a smart, entertaining read.A contrived, uninvolving love triangle surrounded by a sprightlier comedy of modern manners.
