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Fiction. Literature. HTML:A WWII soldier embarks on affairs with two very different men in a landmark novel that "transcends categorizations" (The Telegraph). After being wounded at Dunkirk in World War II, Laurie Odell is sent back home to a rural British hospital. Standing out among the orderlies is Andrew, a bright conscientious objector raised as a Quaker. The unspoken romance between the two men is tested when Ralph, a friend of Laurie's from school, re-enters his life, introducing him into a milieu of jaded, experienced gay men. Will Laurie reconcile himself to Ralph's embrace, or can he offer Andrew the idealized, Platonic intimacy he yearns for? This novel has been called one of the foundation stones of gay literary fiction, ranking alongside James Baldwin's Giovanni's Room and Gore Vidal's The City and the Pillar. Celebrated for its literary brilliance and sincere depiction of complex human emotions, The Charioteer is a stirring and beautifully rendered portrayal of love. This ebook features an illustrated biography of Mary Renault including rare images of the author.… (more)
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Now hospitalised and now
Laurie finds himself torn between his love and feelings of responsibility for Andrew, and the more seductive attractions that Ralph, who clearly loves and cares deeply for Spud, can offer.
The Charioteer it a beautiful and very tender love story. Very well written, although perhaps now showing its age a little it being first published in 1959, the eloquent prose occasionally hinders ones understanding, and it is at times subtle to the point of obscurity; in more than one instance I was left unsure about events even after several readings of a passage. However it is nonetheless most touching and moving; the three significant characters, Spud, Ralph and Andrew, each very different but each very appealing, and with many more diverse characters, some good hearted but with a few with more sinister intent, combined with an involving plot set against the background of the WWII, this is a most satisfying and memorable read.
[I read this in the 2003 Vintage Books edition - the poor quality of production leaving a lot to be desired.]
Now, as for the book itself:
The writing is phenomenal, and the prose is beautiful. I really enjoyed sinking my teeth into the writing in a way that I usually don't in realistic/historical fiction (i.e. I prefer reading for plot in these genres). My only complaint is that sometimes it's so dense you actually lose the plot a little bit, or miss important events that are only alluded to in the actual prose.
The characters are (for the most part), fantastic. I love Laurie, and even though I frequently disagreed with his decisions, I sympathise with his struggles and experiences greatly, and I think he's an incredibly well-written and human character. Also, Andrew is everything good in the world bundled up as a character and I love him so much. Even the minor character of Alec is well-characterised, and I really enjoyed his final scene with Laurie in the hospital, as is Bunny. The only character I well and truly despise is Ralph. As I said in one of my updates, Ralph can go get fucked. He basically manipulates and pressures Laurie throughout the entirety of the book, and he represents every gay man I've ever loathed, who has pressured younger gays into sex or alcohol or drugs or some combination thereof. Gurl bye.
Finally, the plot: I really did enjoy the plot, though I think it's fair to say it's a slow-paced book, but the buildup of Laurie and Andrew's relationship in particular is well-paced and delivered well. My only complaint about the plot is that they didn't end up together!! Ralph is trash, Laurie! Pick Andrew!
All in all, though, a really great book which, if a bit dense at times, is so important for any variety of reasons, and I would highly recommend. I would even go so far as to say it's something which should be taught in schools.
P.S. Not one, but two dogs' deaths are mentioned in the second half of the books, and one of the scenes is really emotional. Please beware if you've not read it, and if you have, please contact me so we can form a support group because I am not over Gyp.
In this moral universe, love is a compromise. An allowance made. A step taken reluctantly. Love is not romantic. If this sounds depressing, it is because it's true.
It's a great story and well told. Very different
Everyone seems to read The Persian Boy first, but this is actually my first Mary Renault book. Her reputation is certainly well earned. The prose has a sort of heavily thoughtful style, a lot more narration of ideas and memories turning around inside the
I'm not feeling much sport in saying what makes this book good, but I would like to say... This is a story about love, and knowing yourself. It's not really a romance, if it's possible you thought that. It's main characters are complex, subtle people, and the book does justice to the fact that there's an awful lot more to love than infatuation and sexual attraction. Some of the things in it are sweet and touching, but mostly this is an exploration of love and identity. Consequently, it wasn't always all that gripping from scene to scene. It could certainly be intense. When I was actually reading I as quite interested. But it wasn't really a hugely entertaining read, and it didn't leave me with any yummy warm satisfied feelings inside, or anything like that. (...I wish I could read an actual romance that was this emotionally realistic. Keheh, in the end, I'm still just a yaoi fangirl at heart.) The writing is wonderful, and you'd have to use some seriously pointed sticks to keep me from reading another Mary Renault book in the future. I suppose this just isn't the kind of thing that sweeps me away, personally.
Time to lend this book to everyone I know!
(I also realized while reading this that romances are all about the suspense. I tear my way through them, full of tension, the same way I would something like Gone Girl. And this one keeps the tension up SO MUCH.)
In the meantime, he has met, and fallen in love with Andrew, a young Quaker, who is performing alternate service as a conscientious objector, at the hospital where he has had his surgery. This time, it is Laurie who understands the nature of his feelings, and Andrew who does not.
Worlds collide. This is an extraordinarily well-written, well-thought out novel. Renault is a scholar of classical Greek philosophy and history, and it is from Plato's "Phaedrus" that she takes her title and her theme, the conflict between flesh and spirit, desire and hope. A beautiful book.
But just as Laurie begins to find the intimations of a relationship forming, from out of his past steps Ralph Lanyon. They attended school together, but as Laurie soon finds out, it was Lanyon who pulled him to safety after his leg was injured during combat. Through Lanyon's friends, Laurie finds himself drawn into the gay life around Dunkirk, a somewhat darker and grittier version than what he's been imagining with Andrew, and soon Laurie finds himself faced with deciding between the two men.
Mary Renault's "The Charioteer" provides an interesting glimpse into gay life in England during WWII, and, for once, the noel doesn't end with one of the gay characters committing suicide or dying because of his gayness. All the characters are well-drawn and give voice to the differing aspects of gay life at the time: the quiet, confused man just learning about his sexuality; the jaded, bitter individuals who don't want anyone to be happy if they can't be, also; the regular guy, who no one would even know to be gay, but who lives his life like everyone else. I enjoyed the interactions of all the characters because they came across as normal, every day actions rather than "oh, look what the gay people are dong!"
The novel is a great read and doesn't make any apologies for its straightforward portrayal of the lives of gay men during WWII. Highly recommended.
For those of you unfamiliar with the story, it is set in England in 1940. Laurie is a 23-year-old soldier convalescing from a serious leg wound in a veteran’s hospital. He befriends a young conscientious objector/pacifist/Quaker, Andrew, working there as an orderly. Laurie understands the sexual undercurrent of their friendship, but Andrew does not. Then through a circumstance of fate, an old school chum, Ralph, enters the picture. He’s a naval captain who has just lost his command and is now part of a small clique of gay men, most for whom he feels contempt though he relies on their communal support. Ralph, who has developed a dependence on alcohol to counter the effects of the war, finds in Laurie a salvation, while Laurie finds his love divided between two men. One with whom that love can be fully realized, and the other which must be protected and kept chaste, lest it be destroyed.
What makes The Charioteer such a masterwork, is that Mary Renault found an ingenious way to infer a hidden meaning to so much of her text. As this was first published in 1953 when the literary world was not ready for full-on descriptions of homosexuality, I don’t know whether she actually wrote more, and was censored by her superiors, or if she instinctively knew just how much she could get away with without crossing the line. A discerning reader can pick up all the little cues and know exactly what is missing.
The wonderful depth is all due to the character development. Laurie and Ralph are real-life human beings. Andrew less so, but that is because he is relegated to the supporting cast. Every bit of dialog, every physical movement, every thought (and there are some lovely flourishes of humor in Laurie’s stray thoughts) plays to perfection without a single false note. The yearnings, fears, confusion and joys are absolutely genuine and I wouldn’t trade a second of it for a slam-bang action-oriented plot.
For anyone professing to be a student of seminal gay fiction, or historical gay fiction, The Charioteer is imperative reading.
While Renault deserves credit for her unusual choice of subject matter (in the context of the early '50s), the fact that the novel addresses homosexuality may in fact serve to distract from what is, in the end, a powerful and moving exploration of love, loss and the complexities of lived experience as opposed to inflexible ideals of existence.