I have a pretty high penchant for depressing books, film etc. He sugarcoats everything and absolutely nothing, masking the ugliness of the world with languid prose that borders on poetry as he dissects humanity & society with a quiet anger. Baldwin’s descriptions of his characters’ feelings, of their acts of love & self-loathing, of the streets of 50’s New York are – as fleshed out and believable as they all are – stand-ins for Baldwin’s musings on love, race, sexuality, class and identity. 50 pages in, it became clear I was going to encounter plenty of contemplations worth marking for another glance. The gorgeous, lyrical style of Baldwin felt too dense for me to commit every striking sentiment to memory however. So I’m not usually someone who writes in the books I read.
I remember lines I love, thoughts that strike me. This is the first of many lines I underlined as I read “Another Country”, and might be the most succinct way to summarize James Baldwin’s beautifully dark, nuanced magnum opus. ‘It’s not possible to forget anybody you’ve destroyed.’ This book contains some potentially triggering themes/scenes, check content warnings before reading.
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