John of John is a wonder. In this novel composed of rich and cutting emotional intimacies, Stuart transports us to the Isle of Harris in the Outer Hebrides of Scotland, where the residue of the past litters the stark countryside, where everyone is a neighbor, where loyalties and grudges alike are passed from generation to generation, where the local economy is small and stalled, and where young people crossing the threshold into adulthood face an uncertain future. We meet young gay Cal when he returns home to the family croft, to his religiously stoic father and his maternal granny, after a stint at art college. Here, interactions feel like combat, a tussle of wills, a rocky landscape of verbal and physical harshness. Cal longs to be fully himself while being terrified by the prospect of what that means within the tight, insular community where life will do its best to knock your teeth out, and friends hold each other to dreams they can not navigate themselves.
As with Stuart's other novels—Shuggie Bain and Young Mungo—I loved this book with my whole heart. Douglas Stuart is one of our finest living writers.
