Customer Reviews

War Against the Animals: A Novel

5 star:		(10)
4 star:		(5)
3 star:		(0)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(4)

 

 

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 "languaged" them-it installed emotions into language so that we readers not only are told, but also feel, those emotions. Simple definition of literature. But rare to achieve in practice. And for me, War Against The Animals attains a level of quality attained only by 10-15% of gay fiction. Well-the book seduced me, captivated me. I unfortunately finished it in 24 hours; its power made me intermittently pause to savor what I read and to save the rest, but then its power soon drew me right back to continue. After The Coming Storm, I was apprehensive. Would Russell write as well? Bravo, and thanks, Paul.

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 literary highlights of the year.

Michael

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.

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."

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 and emotions, but it actually "languaged" them--it installed emotions into language so that we readers not only are told, but also feel, those emotions. Simple definition of literature. But rare to achieve in practice. And for me, War With The Animals attains a level of quality attained only by 10-15% of gay fiction. Well-the book seduced me, captivated me. I unfortunately finished it in 24 hours; its power made me intermittently pause to savor what I read and to save the rest, but then its power soon drew me right back to continue. After The Coming Storm, I was apprehensive. Would Russell write as well? Bravo, and thanks, Paul.

Superbly written story concerning Cameron Barnes, retired garden designer, who moves from Manhattan to Stone Hollow. He starts a new life after the loss of his love to AIDS, while his own AIDS is in remission, befriending a number of the local gay community. He decides to employ a local pair of young brothers to repair his barn and eventually falls for Jesse, the younger of two brothers. There develops an interesting and uneven relationship between Cameron and Jesse. Jesse is encouraged by his loutish older brother Kyle to exploit Cameron in order to extract money, but Jesse is confused by Cameron's attentions, and is uncertain of his own motives. Jesse begins to doubt too his attraction to his long standing girlfriend. The strange relationship that develops between Cameron and Jesse is beautifully told. There are other sub plots, and a very brief appearance of Tracy Parker, the young teacher from Russell's The Coming Storm, since moved on.
Russell's beautiful prose makes this worth reading alone, put this together with the touching relationship that ensues between Cameron and Jesse, it is a book not to be missed.

Paul Russell, as we are coming to realize, is an author who is well beyond genre novels. True, he demonstrates a sincere and deep understanding of the gender epiphany that accompanies the approach to puberty - the spectrum of fear, self-loathing, fantasy, desire, confusion and transcendence that weave in and out of every person who comes to grips with sexual preference. In short, he writes with great dignity and grace about 'coming out' whether that be in the parcels of memory of older men or in the active and onstage reality of young lads. As in his highly successful novel THE COMING STORM, Russell explores community/family/bonding in a story of people who fear home either as a loss or as an escape. "Home" as goal is intrinsically part of this story and it is because of that aspect that, while the story is one of gay men in a Redneck dislocation, that makes it universal. And it all is distilled into the events a one summer.

Cameron Barnes 'escapes' the choke of Manhattan in moving to Stone Hollow in upstate New York, leaving behind the memories of a love lost to AIDS, and starting life over with a new love that gradually dissolves into transcience. Yet in the meantime (recovering from brushes with death from his own AIDS) he has establishes himself as a fine landscape architect, encourages friends from New York to move to his Arcadia, and begins an encounter with a pair of homespun brothers whom he hires for a summer's work only to discover that the Redneck attitude of the town extends to their mentality. Cameron's past introduction to love is revealed through gently drawn flashbacks and thoughts and it is the slow discovery of similarities that results in his aligning with one of the brothers in a journey towards the younger's (Jesse's) self discovery. The words Russsell employs are never squandered: The title of the book, WAR WITH THE ANIMALS, refers not only to Cameron's struggle in the smalltown mentality of homophobia, but also with the demons of his virus, his past experiences and his present challenges. Russell sublety divides the book into sections: "Et in Arcadia Ego" (and into paradise I go), "The Chaos Garden" ( a descriptor of his work project and his landscape), "Gethsemane" (or agony in the garden before Christ's betrayal), and "Under the Shadow". These subtitles suggest the delicacy of Russell's prose and style.

Technically, Russell draws characters that are not only three dimensional, but who, like all humans, have polarities of good and evil that round out their personalites. No one is thoroughly hateful despite some of their atrocious behaviors, and no one is without character flaws no matter how sincere they attempt to pretend. WAR AGAINST THE ANIMALS (note: this is not entitled war "with" the animals) is a highly successful book, one that has much to say about how we choose to lead our lives and the choices we make being mindful of the consequences. Cameron's summer results in a leaping change in the lives of nearly everyone we have met in this story. It is a brave book, a well-conceived story, and an entertaining read. Paul Russell has kept his promise as to his talent potential. I wait for the next novel!

It is too bad that in this country we insist on putting witers into categories: Jewish, black, women, black women, Southern, gay, Lesbian et al. There is certainly no gay writer in America tody who writes better novels than Mr. Russell, and he certainly holds his own with any other contemporary novelist (of any category) I can think of.

The novel is about Cameron, a middle-aged gay man who had moved to a little rural town in upstate New York with a lover who he no longer has. Once very ill with AIDS, he has been given his life back because of a new drug regimen. His already complicated life suddenly becomes more so when he hires two local "redneck" brothers Kyle and Jesse, both recently out of high school, to do some work for him.

This novel is about so much--what happens when affluent gays (or any other group for that matter) move into a poor, depressed area and "take over"? How does a long-time survivor of AIDS have a relationship in these difficult times? And most poignantly, what is a young man to do about this feelings for other men, given the repressed, straight family that surrounds him?

Russell is such a good writer; he is both so good with the English language and insightful about people and relationships. A woman is described as "face-lift beautiful." And a "persimmon smudge of a moon" climbs into the sky. Here is Russell's description of the enthusiasm and glow of youth that most of us lose as adults: " Regaining his [Cameron] health, he's regained a certain sense of wonder he'd lost through the gray days of his illness. Still, it troubled him to realize he's probably never again feel longing--or anything else--as intensely as he's felt it when he was a teenager. The scar tissue thickened. Books, music, friendship, sunsets--about none of those things did he care the way he had once cared."

This is a dark and troubling novel. Although some of Russell's characters are capable of ugly, cruel acts, they are never stereotypes but are complex and densely drawn. Jesse, for all his bad deeds, becomes a sympathetic character and someone I desperately wanted to do the right thing.

The novel ends ambiguously. What really happened to Cameron? What is going to happen to Jesse? I wanted to know where Jesse will be in ten years?

This novel is as good as anything you'll read this year from any writer, gay or straight or from whatever country or region. It haunted me days after I raced through it.

I was wrong. This novel exceeds its predecessor in so many ways, it's difficult to remember all of the reasons why my jaw literally dropped by the time I was finished with the book.

War Against the Animals, unlike many of Paul Russell's novels, focuses mainly on two voices rather than four. Set three years after The Coming Storm, the first protagonist, Cameron Barnes, is a homosexual man with AIDS who used to create beautiful landscaping projects but is now retired and living alone in Stone Hollow. The other, young, misguided Jesse Vanderhof, is hired on along with his brother Kyle by Cameron to do some work on a shed.

Despite Cameron's efforts to look "straight" for his new workers, it's obvious to both brothers that Cameron is gay, loaded, and probably has no idea what to do with his cash. He's a gay man living alone, he has AIDS. What will he do with it all when he dies?

Kyle creates a scheme in which Jesse will befriend Cameron, earn his trust. If all goes well, then maybe Jesse might find his name written in a certain dying man's will, and when the time comes all that money will be theirs. Jesse willingly goes along with the plan, for he sees Cameron as this lonely dying man who once lived in the city but has now come to Stone Hollow to live out the remainder of his sorry life in peace. But at first Jesse does not see the other side of Cameron, that other alternative world full of lovers and friends, a world where Cameron Barnes's life and well-being and happiness truly matters.

Cameron, in the meanwhile, has his own insights as to Jesse's quiet, inconsistent nature. Maybe a lot of what he thinks is true, for he pictures Jesse as this closeted individual who is hiding away behind a shield consisting of his contempt, his heterosexual image, and his girlfriend. What Jesse is hiding from, Cameron wants to find out. He even offers to take the boy to Turkey, his hometown, but to no avail: Jesse is so confused and upset with his life at that point that he doesn't want to consider taking a trip with a gay man to some strange place.

While Jesse's supposedly well-constructed life comes crashing down in the course of a single summer, Cameron becomes, for a period of time, the one and only person who understands what is hurting Jesse. He becomes the one person in the world who can bring the young man comfort and peace.


I loved every moment, every event in this entire novel. I can flip to any random page and just start reading in the middle of a paragraph and become so deeply immersed in the story, able to know what is going on. I admit to crying at the end, including the part where Jesse contemplates Cameron's offer to take him to Turkey that summer. The characterizations throughout the novel were so consistent, powerful and convincing. To me, these people really could have existed.

I very nearly put this book down after the first couple of chapters when it seemed to be veering toward tired cliche and stereotypes. Fortunately, I laid that judgement aside for a moment and was soon lost in the gothic drama and melancholy of this small New York mountain town. Talented writing brings freshness and originality to a tale is essentially the old fable of brother against brother. Cameron is a man who has been granted a reprieve (albeit temporary) from the ravishes of AIDS related illness and is facing life alone after a long-term, nearly sexless relationship. He is man capable of being surprised by joy despite his gentle scorn for the New Age spirituality of many of his friends. His compassion for wild things is evident in his tolerance when he discovers a half-starved deer munching plants in his beloved "Chaos Garden" and his humane removal of a dead 'possum from the middle of the road.
When Jesse, the younger, thoughtful brother of a wild, charismatic, and alcoholic redneck, enters his employ, Cameron's gentle, unself-conscious manner awakens something in the young man that he had tried to bury n the past. In turn, Jesse's uncouth beauty and occasionally startling candor, awakens something Cameron thought had died when the love of his life succumbed to AIDS. Like stars viewed in a city skyline, Jesse's light was obscured by the dazzle of his brother Kyle's larger than life personality. He is not even aware, most of the time, of what his brother takes from him. His own brilliance shines when he away from the toxic influence of Kyle. In the end, this is Jesse's story and he will haunt you when the book is over. I found myself re-reading certain passages this morning after staying up until 3 a.m. to finish the book.