Before the Fall by Aaron J. Clarke tells the tale of homosexual love and desire between Carlton and Marty in 1903 in France, and how the relationship and its unravelling impacts Maggie, Carlton’s wife. The best moment I had while reading this book was when my eyes fell on the word “Finis” on page 147. The literary world is filled with novels that tackle the themes of forbidden love and the inflexibility of society and its moral codes. Madame Bovary comes to mind. In such stories the author manages, usually, to drum up some sympathy for the characters. Here, the odiousness of the main characters leads both to their misery and to the misery of the reader. Deceit, cowardice, vindictiveness, selfishness, and pecuniary self-interest are on full display. But the absolute worst aspect is the intrusive narrator that spins endless suppositions about the intentions of the characters. It’s a little reminiscent of the narration in Marquis de Sade’s Justine minus the S&M. The characters behave in such a way that no good can come of it.
The author adopts a grandiloquent tone, perhaps to situate the story in the rarefied turn- of-the- century European aristocracy. The following sentence typifies the bombastic language in the book. “Suddenly, Aspern felt a hand touch his cheek, and he awoke from his phantasmagoria.” The numerous punctuation errors and anachronisms, however, undermine the author’s credibility. I can accept this sentence: “Then Marty dissimulated his joy by adding with a touch of sincerity, “Why you are as white as a ghost,“ but not “Ditto to you too, Marty.”
The French language plays an important role. It serves not only to reinforce the sophisticated setting, but it also amplifies the emotions between the lovers. For those who do not understand French the fairly long passages without an accompanying translation may get tedious. For those who do understand French it might be confusing to see the lovers switch between “tu” and “vous” for no particular reason. That’s a little thing. A bigger problem is the inappropriate usage. For example in a scene wrought with tension Marty pleads with Carlton: “Pourquoi est-ce que tu me dis l’opposite alors que tu m’avais dit que tu m’as aimé?” The rough translation is “You said you loved me, why are you telling me something different now?” You wouldn’t say “l’opposite” in French. You would say “le contraire.” The use of est ce que, while correct seems awkward given their class status. If a foreign language is going to be used, it needs to be authentic and ring true.
My criticisms, notwithstanding, the author does a good job of presenting a wide range of issues that challenge both the sexual and nonsexual relationships between the lovers, the husband and wife, the friends and mother and daughter. The strongest element of this book is the way the author depicts the passion between the men without resorting to facile and graphic descriptions. You feel the hunger they have for each other in the words and the looks they exchange. Interestingly, one of the best insights into the love relationship is expressed in a French poem Marty reads by “Aaron J. Clarke, a third rate poet.” The author has a sense of humour. That’s a good thing.
In 1903 same sex marriage was a pipe dream, essentially. This reality fuels the anxiety in the story. In the end this tale is as much about love as it is about marriage and its role in society. This is a worthwhile topic to explore. What undermines the author’s lofty goals are the endless references to the women as vengeful goddesses, even resorting to invoking Kali, the Hindu goddess of death and destruction. Women are blamed for subjugating, punishing, imprisoning and subjecting men to the banal existence of marriage. Yet it is the men who manipulate the women into the marriage.
I was relieved to reach the end of this story. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t get something worthwhile out of it. Three stars. Palmetto Review
