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The Prettiest Star
Small-town Appalachia doesn't have a lot going for it, but it’s where Brian is from, where his family is, and where he’s chosen to return to die.
At eighteen, Brian, like so many other promising young gay men, arrived in New York City without much more than a love for the freedom and release from his past that it promised. But within six short years, AIDS would claim his lover, his friends, and his future. With nothing left in New York but memories of death, Brian decides to write his mother a letter asking to come back to the place, and family, he was once so desperate to escape.
Set in 1986, a year after Rock Hudson’s death shifted the public consciousness of the epidemic and brought the news of AIDS into living rooms and kitchens across America, it is a novel that speaks to the question of what home and family means when we try to forge a life for ourselves in a world that can be harsh and unpredictable. It is written at the far reaches of love and understanding, and zeroes in on the moments where those two forces reach for each other, and sometimes touch.
At eighteen, Brian, like so many other promising young gay men, arrived in New York City without much more than a love for the freedom and release from his past that it promised. But within six short years, AIDS would claim his lover, his friends, and his future. With nothing left in New York but memories of death, Brian decides to write his mother a letter asking to come back to the place, and family, he was once so desperate to escape.
Set in 1986, a year after Rock Hudson’s death shifted the public consciousness of the epidemic and brought the news of AIDS into living rooms and kitchens across America, it is a novel that speaks to the question of what home and family means when we try to forge a life for ourselves in a world that can be harsh and unpredictable. It is written at the far reaches of love and understanding, and zeroes in on the moments where those two forces reach for each other, and sometimes touch.
288 pages, Hardcover
First published May 19, 2020
276 people are currently reading
22086 people want to read
About the author
Carter Sickels
7 books235 followersCarter Sickels is the author of THE PRETTIEST STAR (Hub City Press, 2020) and THE EVENING HOUR (Bloomsbury 2012), an Oregon Book Award finalist and a Lambda Literary Award finalist. His essays and fiction have appeared or are forthcoming in various publications, including Guernica, Bellevue Literary Review, Green Mountains Review, and BuzzFeed. Carter is the recipient of the 2013 Lambda Literary Emerging Writer Award.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,279 reviews
July 11, 2020
“AIDS is a story of America, he said. It’s a story that must be told.”It’s a haunting, devastating and heartbreaking story. It’s been a few days since I finished it, and I’m still shaken up and raw with emotions - and very very angry.
It’s stunning and beautiful and shattering and utterly devastating.
This is a story of the time that we should never forget. It’s the story of the time of horrendous initial impact of HIV/AIDS, the devastation and pain and stigma it caused, and the resultant tragedy not only of death but of fear and hate masquerading as sickening “righteousness”.
“In AIDS years, does age even matter? Before New York the only funeral he’d ever been to was his grandfather’s, a man he hardly knew. In the last two years he’s been to nine—all men between twenty-five and forty-five. How many others does he know who are sick? They don’t always tell each other. He doesn’t want to go to any more funerals.”It’s 1986. Thousands of mostly young and formerly healthy lives have been lost in the devastating epidemic at this point still largely ignored by the government and viewed as “God’s way” of scourging the sinners - the ones who dared to love “unconventionally” - by all those self-righteous, small-minded , intolerant and very afraid, those hearing of the sins and the punishments for those who see the “otherness” and not the people.
“It’s hard to believe when we’re all dying and everyone’s telling you this is part of God’s plan.”Brian is only 24, and he knows he is dying. Six years ago he left his tiny rural Ohio hometown for New York where he was finally able to live openly and happily, be himself, accept his sexuality and find his new *chosen* family that accepts him as he is.
“I remembered, before AIDS, when young, healthy, handsome men just didn’t die. I remember—barely—a time when all of us weren’t so sad or scared.”But by 1986 most of his friends have died or are dying, his boyfriend has died from AIDS, and Brian has just a few months left himself. Brian knows he is dying, too - and he makes a decision to leave the place that he used to love but that now is a graveyard to him, and return to his estranged family before he dies.
And the small-town America rises up to fight him for daring to upset their stodgy lives with his existence.
It’s the fear of the unknown and willful ignorance. It’s the hatred of the “other” and almost perverse prurience with which they focus on Brian’s sexuality. It’s the shame and fear of the judgement of others that preoccupies almost everyone in the family. It’s the in-your-face self-satisfied immovable gloating self-righteousness to the most sickening degree.
“Sometimes I burn with anger, and I want to fight, to be seen. But most of the time, I’m just scared or tired. On my worst days, I feel the shame most of the world wants me to feel.I could not stop thinking about the value of the *chosen* family over the blood family for Brian - and for many of us. Brian’s blood family has failed him. With exception of his grandmother, the rest are paralyzed by fear of judgement and disease, the prejudice and the shame and the lack of acceptance of their son, brother, nephew, cousin.
I understand why my parents don’t want people to know, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t fucking hurt.”
“Still, I’ve heard worse. Parents who refuse to touch their son, who make him eat in a separate room, who do not visit him on his death bed, who bleach whatever he touches, who do not claim his body from the morgue.It is instead a small group of people - the chosen family - who rise up to the occasion and step up to help the lonely and afraid - and so very young - dying man. His former roommate Annie who has seen so many of her friends die from AIDS already. his grandmother Lettie who, unlike the rest of Brian’s kin sees him as a person she loves instead of a scary “other”. Andrew, a local openly gay man who extends support and comfort when nobody else does - and who does not think twice about helping with the bodily horrors of advanced AIDS illnesses.
Could be worse.”
“I could have swam to the bottom. Could have drowned in the Hudson. But I came back here. Why? Why does anyone go home? You come back to be seen, to be accepted, and to be loved.”
All while the rest of the family are distant and retreated behind the formidable walls of entrenched shame and prejudice and fear and stigma. The relatives, neighbors, former friends — they all are guided by fear and hate and severe homophobia and complete blind refusal to think and understand. The father is not there even for the death - and that kind of closedmindedness and prejudice is a tragedy in itself.
“But, Shawn—he wanted me to document the harder stuff. Even wanted me to record him in the hospital, dying. I couldn’t do it.It’s the story of the time that we must remember, a story of the time so dark it’s hard to believe it was not of the Dark Ages. We have to remember - or learn - the sadness and anger and the horror of “othering” based on nothing but prejudice.
I didn’t understand then, but I think I do now. The world is ignoring us. We’ve got to document, even if it’s just me talking to the camera in my parents’ basement. At least I’m here. A face, a voice. The world wants to silence and disappear us. Well, here I am. Look at me.”
I loved it, even when I had to put it down for a few hours at a time because my heart hurt too much to keep reading, even when I cried and when I was looking for a wall to punch in anger. It’s beautiful and heartbreaking and one of those books that will stay with me probably forever.
5 stars. 5 brightest, prettiest stars.
“We live our lives not realizing which moments are special or which are ordinary—what will we remember, what memories will we try to grab onto, to hold close? All of these moments that make up a life.”
June 24, 2020
Wow, Carter Sickels. Your gorgeous new book utterly undid me.
"We live our lives not realizing which moments are special or which are ordinary—what will we remember, what memories will we try to grab onto, to hold close? All of these moments that make up a life."
It’s 1986, in the heart of the AIDS crisis. Six years ago Brian left his small, suffocating Ohio hometown for the freedom of NYC. He had the opportunity to live the life he wanted, to be who he wanted without worrying what others think. He was finally free of fighting with his father, knowing he was different than everyone expected him to be.
Now, AIDS has taken his boyfriend and many of his friends, and he faces the same scary journey. He writes a letter to his mother telling her of his diagnosis and that he wishes to come home and visit.
That visit causes numerous ripples—for his parents, who just want to keep him and his condition a secret; his teenage sister; the rest of his family, whose ignorance and fear is indicative of the mood of the country at that time; his grandmother, whose unconditional love is a beacon amidst chaos; and the entire town, which comes unhinged with one simple act.
This is a beautifully written, emotional book, perfectly capturing the struggles so many people with AIDS had to deal with, especially in the 80s. It’s a story about coming to terms with your life and its impending end, and how fear can change people you love yet others will surprise. It's also a powerful story about love, family, and friendship, which sometimes comes from the unlikeliest of people.
Sickels has truly created a masterpiece that I read in one sitting. It moved me beyond belief and I’m so glad I read it. This will easily be one of the best books I'll read all year.
Another book read for Pride Reads!
Check out my list of the best books I read in 2019 at https://itseithersadnessoreuphoria.blogspot.com/2020/01/the-best-books-i-read-in-2019.html.
Check out my list of the best books of the decade at https://itseithersadnessoreuphoria.blogspot.com/2020/01/my-favorite-books-of-decade.html.
See all of my reviews at itseithersadnessoreuphoria.blogspot.com.
Follow me on Instagram at https://www.instagram.com/the.bookishworld.of.yrralh/.
"We live our lives not realizing which moments are special or which are ordinary—what will we remember, what memories will we try to grab onto, to hold close? All of these moments that make up a life."
It’s 1986, in the heart of the AIDS crisis. Six years ago Brian left his small, suffocating Ohio hometown for the freedom of NYC. He had the opportunity to live the life he wanted, to be who he wanted without worrying what others think. He was finally free of fighting with his father, knowing he was different than everyone expected him to be.
Now, AIDS has taken his boyfriend and many of his friends, and he faces the same scary journey. He writes a letter to his mother telling her of his diagnosis and that he wishes to come home and visit.
That visit causes numerous ripples—for his parents, who just want to keep him and his condition a secret; his teenage sister; the rest of his family, whose ignorance and fear is indicative of the mood of the country at that time; his grandmother, whose unconditional love is a beacon amidst chaos; and the entire town, which comes unhinged with one simple act.
This is a beautifully written, emotional book, perfectly capturing the struggles so many people with AIDS had to deal with, especially in the 80s. It’s a story about coming to terms with your life and its impending end, and how fear can change people you love yet others will surprise. It's also a powerful story about love, family, and friendship, which sometimes comes from the unlikeliest of people.
Sickels has truly created a masterpiece that I read in one sitting. It moved me beyond belief and I’m so glad I read it. This will easily be one of the best books I'll read all year.
Another book read for Pride Reads!
Check out my list of the best books I read in 2019 at https://itseithersadnessoreuphoria.blogspot.com/2020/01/the-best-books-i-read-in-2019.html.
Check out my list of the best books of the decade at https://itseithersadnessoreuphoria.blogspot.com/2020/01/my-favorite-books-of-decade.html.
See all of my reviews at itseithersadnessoreuphoria.blogspot.com.
Follow me on Instagram at https://www.instagram.com/the.bookishworld.of.yrralh/.
December 21, 2022
This book is so utterly heartbreaking. So many tears shed during the reading. Book club read for December.
Set in rural Ohio in 1986, when Brian returns home from his life in New York to die. He has AIDS. Brian left home six years before, shunning the stifling small town for the freedom of the city. He has lost so many of his friends. No one in the small town understands or wants to understand him. Not his parents, not his sister, his grandmother, his extended family. Told from the points of view of Brian, his mother Sharon, and his younger sister Jess, Brian's return causes large waves, but also moves those who love him toward understanding and acceptance.
I claim the acute ignorance of being a self-centered teenager in 1986 as my excuse for not realizing these realities of what was going on for people with HIV/AIDS until long after the fact. There's a danger of feeling like "Oh, we've come so far with acceptance now" because it glosses over the atrocities and doesn't acknowledge that there's so, so far yet to go. Just look at the Colorado nightclub shooting just ONE MONTH AGO .
This book is incredibly well-written, presenting all of the nuances of feelings of everyone involved, not sugarcoating anything and not giving a beautiful peaceful resolution for everyone at the end. The central theme of fear permeates the story. Fear of what others think of them, fear of their own failings, fear of death, fear of loss, fear of abandonment, fear of judgment. Some characters are able to move through and past their fears, and some remain blind and stuck.
I highly recommend this book, and am again so grateful to my book club for a choice I never would have picked up on my own.
Set in rural Ohio in 1986, when Brian returns home from his life in New York to die. He has AIDS. Brian left home six years before, shunning the stifling small town for the freedom of the city. He has lost so many of his friends. No one in the small town understands or wants to understand him. Not his parents, not his sister, his grandmother, his extended family. Told from the points of view of Brian, his mother Sharon, and his younger sister Jess, Brian's return causes large waves, but also moves those who love him toward understanding and acceptance.
I claim the acute ignorance of being a self-centered teenager in 1986 as my excuse for not realizing these realities of what was going on for people with HIV/AIDS until long after the fact. There's a danger of feeling like "Oh, we've come so far with acceptance now" because it glosses over the atrocities and doesn't acknowledge that there's so, so far yet to go. Just look at the Colorado nightclub shooting just ONE MONTH AGO .
This book is incredibly well-written, presenting all of the nuances of feelings of everyone involved, not sugarcoating anything and not giving a beautiful peaceful resolution for everyone at the end. The central theme of fear permeates the story. Fear of what others think of them, fear of their own failings, fear of death, fear of loss, fear of abandonment, fear of judgment. Some characters are able to move through and past their fears, and some remain blind and stuck.
I highly recommend this book, and am again so grateful to my book club for a choice I never would have picked up on my own.
July 19, 2020
I have been in the strangest mood the last several days. I am not generally a soft or weepy person, but life has been throwing me curves lately and I think the build up was like a dam bursting. At any rate, the crying sort of began before I read this book, but man, Carter Sickels touched every emotional nerve in my body and by the time I reached the finish I was crying so hard I could barely see the page to read. I kept having to pause and go into the bathroom and wash my face, then I would read a few sentences and start up again.
If it doesn’t affect you that way, you can just put it down to my hormones being aflutter, but I found this to be charged mainly because there was thoughtfulness and understanding for every character Sickels depicted, not just the main character, Brian. People are so multi-faceted. There are so few of us who are all good or all evil, every one of us falls in between, although some tip the scales more to one side than the other. (Okay, there is one character in this book that I would label evil, but he isn't a main character and even he is probably more insecure and afraid than we know).
It is 1986 and Brian has AIDS. He is from the mountains in Ohio but has been living in New York City, but the death of his partner and his knowledge that he is dying makes him decide to return home to his family; a family who has never openly acknowledged that Brian is even gay. I lived through the 1980s and the AIDS epidemic. I know the fear and horror of this time. I witnessed first hand the disgusting lack of compassion on the parts of so many and the difficult struggle of other, good people, to understand and not condemn in a world that was more accepting if you would.
What Brian endures, what his parents endure, how his little sister copes, how this small town reacts; all of these things rang 100% true. It made me hurt to see this young man lose his life when it had barely begun. I felt for his mother who just wanted to love her son and protect him from this horrible disease and, perhaps worse, from the viciousness of the town that she had felt so much a part of her life. I even felt sorry for the father who just could not come to grips with the truth, so buried his head in the sand, missing his only chance to know who his son was. My heart swelled with pride for Brian’s grandmother, who puts her love first and never feels an ounce of the shame her neighbors seem to want to force upon her, and for his friends Annie and Andrew who show that true love and bravery are what truly matter.
The only way for my family to get their lives back is for me to go. How sad would it be to feel that at the end of your life?
Sickels writes beautifully and thoughtfully. He tackles death and reminds us that any death, every death, is a loss and that the next death might be our own. Every character here must face the reality of death and reach for some kind of comfort. Brian’s sister, Jess, imagines that we become whales at our ends:
Nothing transforms, there is no magic. Or, does everything transform? I hesitate, and then reach up and touch my brother’s face. His skin is warm. I don’t pray anymore, but sometimes I dream. Giant, enormous, beautiful bodies. All of us together in the ocean. We die and we swim.
For one who has sat beside a sick bed and gone from hoping and praying for the survival of the ill to praying for the cessation of the suffering, I got how hard it was for this family to watch this slow deterioration.
We’re waiting. We don’t want the moment to come, we do.
I hated reading this book. I loved it.
If it doesn’t affect you that way, you can just put it down to my hormones being aflutter, but I found this to be charged mainly because there was thoughtfulness and understanding for every character Sickels depicted, not just the main character, Brian. People are so multi-faceted. There are so few of us who are all good or all evil, every one of us falls in between, although some tip the scales more to one side than the other. (Okay, there is one character in this book that I would label evil, but he isn't a main character and even he is probably more insecure and afraid than we know).
It is 1986 and Brian has AIDS. He is from the mountains in Ohio but has been living in New York City, but the death of his partner and his knowledge that he is dying makes him decide to return home to his family; a family who has never openly acknowledged that Brian is even gay. I lived through the 1980s and the AIDS epidemic. I know the fear and horror of this time. I witnessed first hand the disgusting lack of compassion on the parts of so many and the difficult struggle of other, good people, to understand and not condemn in a world that was more accepting if you would.
What Brian endures, what his parents endure, how his little sister copes, how this small town reacts; all of these things rang 100% true. It made me hurt to see this young man lose his life when it had barely begun. I felt for his mother who just wanted to love her son and protect him from this horrible disease and, perhaps worse, from the viciousness of the town that she had felt so much a part of her life. I even felt sorry for the father who just could not come to grips with the truth, so buried his head in the sand, missing his only chance to know who his son was. My heart swelled with pride for Brian’s grandmother, who puts her love first and never feels an ounce of the shame her neighbors seem to want to force upon her, and for his friends Annie and Andrew who show that true love and bravery are what truly matter.
The only way for my family to get their lives back is for me to go. How sad would it be to feel that at the end of your life?
Sickels writes beautifully and thoughtfully. He tackles death and reminds us that any death, every death, is a loss and that the next death might be our own. Every character here must face the reality of death and reach for some kind of comfort. Brian’s sister, Jess, imagines that we become whales at our ends:
Nothing transforms, there is no magic. Or, does everything transform? I hesitate, and then reach up and touch my brother’s face. His skin is warm. I don’t pray anymore, but sometimes I dream. Giant, enormous, beautiful bodies. All of us together in the ocean. We die and we swim.
For one who has sat beside a sick bed and gone from hoping and praying for the survival of the ill to praying for the cessation of the suffering, I got how hard it was for this family to watch this slow deterioration.
We’re waiting. We don’t want the moment to come, we do.
I hated reading this book. I loved it.
October 31, 2020
Wow...what an emotional, raw, riveting read this was. Words cannot explain the emotions I went through while reading this novel. It was powerful and hit me hard on account of how realistic the situations and characters were. This is one of my favorites of 2020, thus far.
July 16, 2020
Audiobook....read by Tiffany Morgan
From small town Chester Ohio to New York City and back.....Brian, a gay man in the 80’s had AIDS.
The year was 1986 when Brian came back home to live - then die with his family.
This may sound like a story you don’t want to read for many reasons:
1. you’ve read too many AIDS stories before....
2. you’ve lived through them before...friends of ‘yours’ and ‘mine’ have died of AIDS..
....and
3. it sounds too depressing - especially during a pandemic world health crisis.
Well....I’m here to share - and recommend this book ANYWAY!!!
ITS WONDERFUL!!!!!!!!! REALLY FANTASTIC.... GREAT characters .....
TERRIFIC storytelling!!!
The characters ( Brian, Jess, Sharon, Lettie, Travis, Annie, and the memory of Shawn), became people I WANTED TO HANG OUT WITH.....and/or....WANTED TO KNOW HOW EACH FAMILY MEMBER *FELT*.....( fears, sadness anger, shame, guilt).....etc.
Brian’s younger sister, *Jess*...is a STANDOUT. ...‘ADORABLE’ ....CHARMING .....REAL!
OUR VOICE NARRATOR....* Tiffany Morgan*....WAS ABSOLUTELY PERFECT in capturing Jess’s character with her youthful - unique- memorable ‘voice’!
Brian was not only battling AIDS, the loss of Shawn ( also died of AIDS), but battling his own emotions and thoughts being back home - in a town that were homophobic.
The storytelling- dialogue- depth - honesty- heartbreak- is explored through each family member. We get a clear experience of this small town ... with it’s frightening conservative - ignorant community. Not everyone - at every moment- but gay men and AIDS was the bogeyman to sweep under the rug.
THE WRITING is exceptional, intimate, powerful, affecting, funny at times, historical, warm, wonderful, devastating, ..... ( a very serious topic).... but TOTALLY ENGAGING..... compulsively readable.
Loved the Audiobook!
I’m an Instant fan of author Sickel Carter. Her style - talent - wit- is refreshing!
From small town Chester Ohio to New York City and back.....Brian, a gay man in the 80’s had AIDS.
The year was 1986 when Brian came back home to live - then die with his family.
This may sound like a story you don’t want to read for many reasons:
1. you’ve read too many AIDS stories before....
2. you’ve lived through them before...friends of ‘yours’ and ‘mine’ have died of AIDS..
....and
3. it sounds too depressing - especially during a pandemic world health crisis.
Well....I’m here to share - and recommend this book ANYWAY!!!
ITS WONDERFUL!!!!!!!!! REALLY FANTASTIC.... GREAT characters .....
TERRIFIC storytelling!!!
The characters ( Brian, Jess, Sharon, Lettie, Travis, Annie, and the memory of Shawn), became people I WANTED TO HANG OUT WITH.....and/or....WANTED TO KNOW HOW EACH FAMILY MEMBER *FELT*.....( fears, sadness anger, shame, guilt).....etc.
Brian’s younger sister, *Jess*...is a STANDOUT. ...‘ADORABLE’ ....CHARMING .....REAL!
OUR VOICE NARRATOR....* Tiffany Morgan*....WAS ABSOLUTELY PERFECT in capturing Jess’s character with her youthful - unique- memorable ‘voice’!
Brian was not only battling AIDS, the loss of Shawn ( also died of AIDS), but battling his own emotions and thoughts being back home - in a town that were homophobic.
The storytelling- dialogue- depth - honesty- heartbreak- is explored through each family member. We get a clear experience of this small town ... with it’s frightening conservative - ignorant community. Not everyone - at every moment- but gay men and AIDS was the bogeyman to sweep under the rug.
THE WRITING is exceptional, intimate, powerful, affecting, funny at times, historical, warm, wonderful, devastating, ..... ( a very serious topic).... but TOTALLY ENGAGING..... compulsively readable.
Loved the Audiobook!
I’m an Instant fan of author Sickel Carter. Her style - talent - wit- is refreshing!
November 11, 2021
Second reading, May 2020. I want to teach this book.
Third reading, November 2021 for queer men's book club.
*The Prettiest Star* is a tender, emotional story about a fraught homecoming but it is boiling with rage beneath the surface. It tells the story of a young man named Brian in 1986, who comes home to small town Ohio and the parents who rejected him for being gay. Brian, HIV-positive and grieving his partner's death, only tells a fraction of the story, though; most of the story is narrated by his mother and younger sister, and Sickles makes the story as much about human transformation and the softening of the heart as a history lesson of a difficult time.
The story had me in tears and pushed me into a delicious anger. It boils my blood to think that a parent could reject their own child--especially on the grounds of prejudice against something one just doesn't understand. It boils my blood how our country did so little for men like Brian.
If you don't follow the @theaidsmemorial on Instagram then you're missing out on glimpses into the courage and beauty of human love and bravery in light of one of the greatest scourges on this country's history. I've committed myself to learning as much as I can about the AIDS epidemic in America, knowing that 1) it nearly irrevocably complicated and stymied my self-knowledge and coming of age around my own queerness, and 2) it was a holocaust in my lifetime and in my country and I didn't even know--and I still wouldn't know (!!) if not for books like *Christodora* and *Angels in America* and now *The Prettiest Star*--the last of which may be the most accessible and most relatable to the widest audience.
The entire second half of this book had me feeling rage and empathy and sadness and love. I can't wait to see this book out in the world and in the hands of my loved ones. I hope it gets people thinking about what it really means to be a family and mends relationships. I believe this story has that power.
Third reading, November 2021 for queer men's book club.
*The Prettiest Star* is a tender, emotional story about a fraught homecoming but it is boiling with rage beneath the surface. It tells the story of a young man named Brian in 1986, who comes home to small town Ohio and the parents who rejected him for being gay. Brian, HIV-positive and grieving his partner's death, only tells a fraction of the story, though; most of the story is narrated by his mother and younger sister, and Sickles makes the story as much about human transformation and the softening of the heart as a history lesson of a difficult time.
The story had me in tears and pushed me into a delicious anger. It boils my blood to think that a parent could reject their own child--especially on the grounds of prejudice against something one just doesn't understand. It boils my blood how our country did so little for men like Brian.
If you don't follow the @theaidsmemorial on Instagram then you're missing out on glimpses into the courage and beauty of human love and bravery in light of one of the greatest scourges on this country's history. I've committed myself to learning as much as I can about the AIDS epidemic in America, knowing that 1) it nearly irrevocably complicated and stymied my self-knowledge and coming of age around my own queerness, and 2) it was a holocaust in my lifetime and in my country and I didn't even know--and I still wouldn't know (!!) if not for books like *Christodora* and *Angels in America* and now *The Prettiest Star*--the last of which may be the most accessible and most relatable to the widest audience.
The entire second half of this book had me feeling rage and empathy and sadness and love. I can't wait to see this book out in the world and in the hands of my loved ones. I hope it gets people thinking about what it really means to be a family and mends relationships. I believe this story has that power.
March 29, 2021
‘He read the names of the dead. Don’t forget. Say their names.’
The above quotation has a particular resonance in this time of Covid-19, where I think everyone has had their circle of family, friends and work colleagues impacted by the pandemic. Not to mention the economic and psychological impact of lockdowns – 27 March marked a year ago that South Africa went into hard lockdown.
Currently we are still in an official State of Disaster, which has seen our Constitution suspended for over a year now. The latest speculation is that we might return to Level 2 for the Easter period, as a preventative measure for the inevitable third wave, especially given the fact that our national vaccination rollout has been a complete disaster due to the usual bureaucratic ineptitude.
Of course, Carter Sickels refers to an entirely different disease, but reading this book in our current time is such a forceful reminder that suffering is universal. If I think back to the deathbeds I have been at over the years – some of them friends who succumbed to HIV/AIDS, others to cancer and old age – it is a long litany of loss and grief that time has blunted but certainly not distilled.
Given how heart-rending this book is to read – it certainly had much more of an emotional impact on me than ‘The Great Believers’ by Rebecca Makkai, even though I have to say the latter is a much better book – Sickels’ approach to the terrible experience of having a loved one succumb to a pain-wracked and lingering death is quite clinical in how detailed it is.
My problem is it consumes the book as well, just as the virus effectively consumes Brian alive. Despite the fact that it is set in Chester, Ohio in the Appalachian foothills, and despite the complex family dynamics that the Prodigal (Gay) Son’s return sets into motion, the book could just have well have played out in a bedsit in New York.
Yes, it is interesting how Sickels seems to invert the traditional ‘coming of age’ story. Instead of the country boy travelling to the big city, here we have the country boy returning to a home that he probably vowed to ever come back to, and which still continues to reject him even while he is dying.
There is no glimmer of reconciliation or understanding possible here, which is perhaps something to Sickels’ credit, right up to the emotionally devastating, yet inevitable, ending. Indeed, the complex issue as to exactly why Brian decides to return home, and what he expects to find there, is never resolved satisfactorily.
Or I suspect it is possibly too much of a nuanced issue for what is essentially a ‘gay AIDS suffering’ melodrama played out in very broad strokes. The book is replete with ‘stock gay’ characters: We have the local undercover queen Andrew, who of course works in the local department store and is not averse to doing ‘women’s work’, notes Brian’s mom.
And then there is Brian’s stoic lesbian friend Annie who pays a visit and, of course, whose perennial good cheer merges seamlessly with Andrew’s exuberant flamboyance to create a false sense of Teflon-grade bonhomie amidst the relentlessly grim proceedings.
Together with Brian’s estranged sister Jess, this misfit bunch creates the nucleus of an unconventional family structure – hell, even Andrew’s trailer-park mom helps out – which perhaps points to an altogether different direction in which this very conventional story could, and maybe should have dared, to have gone.
As to Brian’s gay life in New York itself: We only get brief glimpses, and even Brian’s partner black partner Shawn is as one-dimensional as a photograph, and as ephemeral. Brian himself does not come across to me as a character who has fully embraced what being gay is or even means – which could be his idea of returning home, of course. He is trying to rediscover a sense of who he was, and thereby become whole again. I just wish Sickels had given his characters (and the readers) a smidgeon more joy amidst all of the pain.
A larger question is what ‘home’ means in the context of being gay, having your family and town turn their collective back on you, and then having your partner die suddenly from a mysterious disease, soon to be followed by most of your friends, all of this against the background of the big city that seemed such a portal to pleasure and exploration at the outset, and which ultimately turns into a funeral pyre of lost lives and dreams.
Reading ‘The Prettiest Star’ reminded me of that great novel ‘A Home at the End of the World’ by Michael Cunningham. So even though Sickels does retread very familiar (and painful) ground, he is engaging with a living gay literary tradition that has progressed in leaps and bounds over the years.
The above quotation has a particular resonance in this time of Covid-19, where I think everyone has had their circle of family, friends and work colleagues impacted by the pandemic. Not to mention the economic and psychological impact of lockdowns – 27 March marked a year ago that South Africa went into hard lockdown.
Currently we are still in an official State of Disaster, which has seen our Constitution suspended for over a year now. The latest speculation is that we might return to Level 2 for the Easter period, as a preventative measure for the inevitable third wave, especially given the fact that our national vaccination rollout has been a complete disaster due to the usual bureaucratic ineptitude.
Of course, Carter Sickels refers to an entirely different disease, but reading this book in our current time is such a forceful reminder that suffering is universal. If I think back to the deathbeds I have been at over the years – some of them friends who succumbed to HIV/AIDS, others to cancer and old age – it is a long litany of loss and grief that time has blunted but certainly not distilled.
Given how heart-rending this book is to read – it certainly had much more of an emotional impact on me than ‘The Great Believers’ by Rebecca Makkai, even though I have to say the latter is a much better book – Sickels’ approach to the terrible experience of having a loved one succumb to a pain-wracked and lingering death is quite clinical in how detailed it is.
My problem is it consumes the book as well, just as the virus effectively consumes Brian alive. Despite the fact that it is set in Chester, Ohio in the Appalachian foothills, and despite the complex family dynamics that the Prodigal (Gay) Son’s return sets into motion, the book could just have well have played out in a bedsit in New York.
Yes, it is interesting how Sickels seems to invert the traditional ‘coming of age’ story. Instead of the country boy travelling to the big city, here we have the country boy returning to a home that he probably vowed to ever come back to, and which still continues to reject him even while he is dying.
There is no glimmer of reconciliation or understanding possible here, which is perhaps something to Sickels’ credit, right up to the emotionally devastating, yet inevitable, ending. Indeed, the complex issue as to exactly why Brian decides to return home, and what he expects to find there, is never resolved satisfactorily.
Or I suspect it is possibly too much of a nuanced issue for what is essentially a ‘gay AIDS suffering’ melodrama played out in very broad strokes. The book is replete with ‘stock gay’ characters: We have the local undercover queen Andrew, who of course works in the local department store and is not averse to doing ‘women’s work’, notes Brian’s mom.
And then there is Brian’s stoic lesbian friend Annie who pays a visit and, of course, whose perennial good cheer merges seamlessly with Andrew’s exuberant flamboyance to create a false sense of Teflon-grade bonhomie amidst the relentlessly grim proceedings.
Together with Brian’s estranged sister Jess, this misfit bunch creates the nucleus of an unconventional family structure – hell, even Andrew’s trailer-park mom helps out – which perhaps points to an altogether different direction in which this very conventional story could, and maybe should have dared, to have gone.
As to Brian’s gay life in New York itself: We only get brief glimpses, and even Brian’s partner black partner Shawn is as one-dimensional as a photograph, and as ephemeral. Brian himself does not come across to me as a character who has fully embraced what being gay is or even means – which could be his idea of returning home, of course. He is trying to rediscover a sense of who he was, and thereby become whole again. I just wish Sickels had given his characters (and the readers) a smidgeon more joy amidst all of the pain.
A larger question is what ‘home’ means in the context of being gay, having your family and town turn their collective back on you, and then having your partner die suddenly from a mysterious disease, soon to be followed by most of your friends, all of this against the background of the big city that seemed such a portal to pleasure and exploration at the outset, and which ultimately turns into a funeral pyre of lost lives and dreams.
Reading ‘The Prettiest Star’ reminded me of that great novel ‘A Home at the End of the World’ by Michael Cunningham. So even though Sickels does retread very familiar (and painful) ground, he is engaging with a living gay literary tradition that has progressed in leaps and bounds over the years.
May 12, 2020
The Library Journal's review complained that this book's depiction of small-town bigotry is too extreme to be believable -- to which I can only say, hell no. It's exactly right, painfully realistic.
April 20, 2023
3.5, rounded up.
I'm a trifle embarrassed I didn't know the title refers to a Bowie song, and I had to YouTube it to get its significance. And the book as a whole did a fine job at telling its underreported storyline (about those men who returned to their rural homes to die from AIDS in the early days of that pandemic). But it kind of went exactly where one would expect, in serviceable, but rarely transcendent prose, and an AIDS novel that doesn't make one weep is rather beside the point (or maybe I'm just hard-hearted or immune to such by now).
Although the author cites numerous works he used in researching the topic, he appears too young to have been more than a child in 1986 (when the book is set), and to me the book lacked the immediacy/intricacy of those first-hand accounts. Not sorry I read it, though, and will be interested in seeing where the author goes next... and the cover art is terrific.
(PS on pronoun usage: Although I've seen the author referred to as 'they' in various reviews and interviews, 'he' is used at the author's own website, so I have done likewise.)
I'm a trifle embarrassed I didn't know the title refers to a Bowie song, and I had to YouTube it to get its significance. And the book as a whole did a fine job at telling its underreported storyline (about those men who returned to their rural homes to die from AIDS in the early days of that pandemic). But it kind of went exactly where one would expect, in serviceable, but rarely transcendent prose, and an AIDS novel that doesn't make one weep is rather beside the point (or maybe I'm just hard-hearted or immune to such by now).
Although the author cites numerous works he used in researching the topic, he appears too young to have been more than a child in 1986 (when the book is set), and to me the book lacked the immediacy/intricacy of those first-hand accounts. Not sorry I read it, though, and will be interested in seeing where the author goes next... and the cover art is terrific.
(PS on pronoun usage: Although I've seen the author referred to as 'they' in various reviews and interviews, 'he' is used at the author's own website, so I have done likewise.)
Read
November 19, 2019From the beginning of AIDS literature in the 1980'. through to its current literary subject revival, the reality of familial homophobia has been hidden or downplayed. Parents have been depicted - to great acclaim- as heroically overcoming their prejudices, as loving, learning, appropriate, and doing the best they can. At the same time, over the last 40 years of representation, essential works that tell the truth about familial cruelty, the self-aggrandizing exclusion, the poisonous 'tolerance', these works have been relegated to the margins, from Joe Westmoreland's TRAMPS LIKE US to Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore's SKETCHTASY. Reward for the sugar coated lie coexists with the punishment of exile for the reality. Because of lack of services, thousands of people with AIDS, like Brian, the hero of this truthful, deep and revelatory novel, were thrown on the mercy of their hostile and uncomprehending families and home towns who didn't want them and let them know. The terrible abandonment of gay people and people with AIDS. and the consequences of this on our collective emotional lives and relationships is the story that we need in order to understand who we really are. All of us. I am so grateful to Carter Sickels and Hub City Press for giving us the gift of The Prettiest Star.
May 2, 2020
Honestly one of the best LGBTQ+ books I’ve read this year, by a truly gifted writer. This story was a heartbreaker but it’s so much larger than that. It feels eerily reminiscent to the hate and bigotry so many people like us — queer, POC, minorities — are assaulted with today. It’s also a story of how laying claim to one’s identity can sever a family, erupt a town and its people.
Fuck, this was everything.
(Cleaner, comprehensive review to come!)
Fuck, this was everything.
(Cleaner, comprehensive review to come!)
March 23, 2020
Carter Sickels' "The Prettiest Star" is an AIDS story that we have needed, that has been missing, and that will remind you about where we have come from.
Sickels tells the story of Brian, a 24 year old boy diagnosed with AIDS in New York City in 1986. His boyfriend, Shawn, recently a victim himself of AIDS has died and Brian makes the dreaded decision to move back home to live with his parents in their small town at the foothills of Appalachia in southern Ohio. For the first time in 6 years he engages with a family that doesn't know what to do with him, a community that openly despises him, and a few characters who love and care for him. Challenging the status quo in hopes of changing hearts, Brian uses the twilight of his life to affect his community and his family.
The story itself is unique and necessary - so few stories exist about those PWAs who went home to their rural communities to die, often alone. And many did. But I am not convinced Sickels picked the best way to tell the story. The chapters cycle between the first-person perspectives of Brian, his sister, and his mother. I believe this was an attempt to make the characters more emotionally accessible - to save them from an easy demonization. But unfortunately, it made the characters feel flat often. Sickels' strength is not in first-person prose - it feels juvenile often. But in those portions of the book where he manages to escape this and to really tell the emotion of the story: it's like a fire being set free. He can write your feelings for sure!
All in all, "The Prettiest Star" is a book that will bring you to tears and connect with you on so many levels, and for that reason, and because of the novel story it tells, I have to recommend it.
Sickels tells the story of Brian, a 24 year old boy diagnosed with AIDS in New York City in 1986. His boyfriend, Shawn, recently a victim himself of AIDS has died and Brian makes the dreaded decision to move back home to live with his parents in their small town at the foothills of Appalachia in southern Ohio. For the first time in 6 years he engages with a family that doesn't know what to do with him, a community that openly despises him, and a few characters who love and care for him. Challenging the status quo in hopes of changing hearts, Brian uses the twilight of his life to affect his community and his family.
The story itself is unique and necessary - so few stories exist about those PWAs who went home to their rural communities to die, often alone. And many did. But I am not convinced Sickels picked the best way to tell the story. The chapters cycle between the first-person perspectives of Brian, his sister, and his mother. I believe this was an attempt to make the characters more emotionally accessible - to save them from an easy demonization. But unfortunately, it made the characters feel flat often. Sickels' strength is not in first-person prose - it feels juvenile often. But in those portions of the book where he manages to escape this and to really tell the emotion of the story: it's like a fire being set free. He can write your feelings for sure!
All in all, "The Prettiest Star" is a book that will bring you to tears and connect with you on so many levels, and for that reason, and because of the novel story it tells, I have to recommend it.
July 26, 2020
4 Stars
June 30, 2020
I started this Sunday night intending to make it the last read of the month, but couldn't put it down. Carter Sickels captures what the AIDS epidemic looked like in rural American through the character of Brian, who returns home in 1986 to Appalachian Ohio after most of his friends have died, including his boyfriend. His family doesn't even want their neighbors to know he is gay, much less that he has AIDS, and the lack of understanding of the disease causes its own list of problems. The chapters rotate between characters in the family, from the mother who is torn between her husband and her son, to the sister who was a child when he left, to the awesome grandma who has always been his number one champion.
There are other memorable characters in the novel, from the many Karen's who make life miserable for the entire family, to a youth minister that is way too intimate with the teens in the community to the extended family in the area. And the town is memorable too.
There are other memorable characters in the novel, from the many Karen's who make life miserable for the entire family, to a youth minister that is way too intimate with the teens in the community to the extended family in the area. And the town is memorable too.
July 26, 2020
Earlier this spring, I reread Colm Tóibín's The Blackwater Lightship, published twenty-one years ago. Gracing the same stage as that novel set in Ireland in 1990 is Carter Sickels's The Prettiest Star, which features the prodigal return of a young man stricken with AIDS and suffering from the homophobic fears of his family and small-minded community. Although touching the same themes as Tóibín's seminal novel, The Prettiest Star is its own sad and lovely story.
Brian escaped the claustrophobic, close-minded Appalachian town of Chester, OH upon his high school graduation in 1980 and found acceptance, art, love and lots of gorgeous, revelatory sex in New York City. But six years later, his newfound community is devastated by AIDS. He chooses to return to his family in Chester after falling ill to the disease that had recently killed his boyfriend. He had been estranged from his parents, and his little sister, Jess, since leaving town, but his mother, Sharon, and Grandmother Lettie welcome him as the beloved boy returning home from battle. His father, Travis, is deeply ashamed of his son and in horrified denial of Brian's homosexuality and the death sentence that has been handed down by AIDS.
The family's attempts to keep Brian's condition a secret fall to small town nosiness, and Carter Sickels shows us the breathtaking cruelty of a community whose fear of AIDS and homophobia turns malicious and violent.
The Prettiest Star, a nod to the Bowie song, an artist whose music and persona helped Brian navigate those lonely years of being closeted as a gay man in a unforgiving community, is told through the points of view of Brian, Sharon, and most effectively, Jess. We see through Jess's perspective as a tween coming into her own the mental and heartful navigation of a dawning empathy and acceptance.
There are no happy endings here. In 1986 the first effective treatments for H.I.V-AIDS wasn't far off, but not soon enough to save Brian's life. Yet, there is redemption, and hope. The final chapter will bring you to your knees.
Beautiful, gracious, well-crafted prose and a raw and effective story- this is an outstanding debut.
Brian escaped the claustrophobic, close-minded Appalachian town of Chester, OH upon his high school graduation in 1980 and found acceptance, art, love and lots of gorgeous, revelatory sex in New York City. But six years later, his newfound community is devastated by AIDS. He chooses to return to his family in Chester after falling ill to the disease that had recently killed his boyfriend. He had been estranged from his parents, and his little sister, Jess, since leaving town, but his mother, Sharon, and Grandmother Lettie welcome him as the beloved boy returning home from battle. His father, Travis, is deeply ashamed of his son and in horrified denial of Brian's homosexuality and the death sentence that has been handed down by AIDS.
The family's attempts to keep Brian's condition a secret fall to small town nosiness, and Carter Sickels shows us the breathtaking cruelty of a community whose fear of AIDS and homophobia turns malicious and violent.
The Prettiest Star, a nod to the Bowie song, an artist whose music and persona helped Brian navigate those lonely years of being closeted as a gay man in a unforgiving community, is told through the points of view of Brian, Sharon, and most effectively, Jess. We see through Jess's perspective as a tween coming into her own the mental and heartful navigation of a dawning empathy and acceptance.
There are no happy endings here. In 1986 the first effective treatments for H.I.V-AIDS wasn't far off, but not soon enough to save Brian's life. Yet, there is redemption, and hope. The final chapter will bring you to your knees.
Beautiful, gracious, well-crafted prose and a raw and effective story- this is an outstanding debut.
June 14, 2021
i was intrigued to pick this up bc of it's synopsis but that's all the seemingly interesting part of the book for me. i wish we'd gotten more of Brian's perspective- his life in New York & his motivations behind choosing to return and stay in his extremely homophobic hometown. i found most characters very flat and one-noted. only having one of the mother or sister's povs would've been better imo for the narrative to be less repetitive.
February 5, 2021
First five-star read of the year, 11 books in. And of course, it's a beautiful yet heartbreaking one.
As a reader who's a sucker for brilliant character studies, intimate prose, & subtle yet impactful themes, the prettiest star just ticked all of the boxes.
i've read a couple of books on the AIDS epidemic in the US in the past, but Sickley took this theme and provided a fresh and just as important perspective with the story.
at times, i wanted to curl up in a ball.
other times, i wanted to punch a wall.
the last 20% of the book was an emotional ride.
5/5
As a reader who's a sucker for brilliant character studies, intimate prose, & subtle yet impactful themes, the prettiest star just ticked all of the boxes.
i've read a couple of books on the AIDS epidemic in the US in the past, but Sickley took this theme and provided a fresh and just as important perspective with the story.
at times, i wanted to curl up in a ball.
other times, i wanted to punch a wall.
the last 20% of the book was an emotional ride.
5/5
April 12, 2021
This story is an oxymoron. It's so simple in conception, yet so fraught with familial complications that it takes the reader on a powerful journey. It's 1986–the height of the AIDS crisis. Brian left Chester, Ohio, in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains for New York six years ago and his family has all but disowned him. His boyfriend has just died, he's sick as well, and he simply wants to go home to die.
Told through multiple points of view–Brian's, his mother's, his sister's, and briefly even his father's–this novel records what Brian and his family go through over the course of his dying. And it's just heart-wrenching. The conservative, homophobic family and community members, the television program that interviews Brian and stirs the community up even further, the harassment his sister endures at school, all of it.
I was in graduate school in 1986 and the politics of that time period are seared into my memory. The hatred, the fear, the ignorance, right from President Reagan, through the so-called Christian community, right down to the average person on the streets. It was just a miserable example of humankind at its worst. Sickels has done a masterful job of displaying the complexity of dynamics of a family in crisis. Painful as hell, but so well told.
Told through multiple points of view–Brian's, his mother's, his sister's, and briefly even his father's–this novel records what Brian and his family go through over the course of his dying. And it's just heart-wrenching. The conservative, homophobic family and community members, the television program that interviews Brian and stirs the community up even further, the harassment his sister endures at school, all of it.
I was in graduate school in 1986 and the politics of that time period are seared into my memory. The hatred, the fear, the ignorance, right from President Reagan, through the so-called Christian community, right down to the average person on the streets. It was just a miserable example of humankind at its worst. Sickels has done a masterful job of displaying the complexity of dynamics of a family in crisis. Painful as hell, but so well told.
August 25, 2020
Ok, everybody drop what you're doing and go get a copy of this book because it completely blew me away.
Set in 1986 at the height of the AIDS epidemic, THE PRETTIEST STAR revolves around 24-year-old Brian, a gay man who has contracted AIDS in NYC and returns to his small midwestern town to spend his final days with his family. Told in shifting perspectives from Brian, his mother, and his teenage sister, we learn about a country, a town, and a family steeped in prejudice, ignorance, hate, fear, and shame.
This book completely tore me apart. Brian's chapters are told in the form of video recordings that he made to his family and are so intimate and haunting. I went back and forth during the chapters from his family members between wanting to scream at them and feeling hopeful that their beliefs and attitudes surrounding AIDS and the gay community might change. This was overall a beautiful, infuriating, and devastating read.
Not only will THE PRETTIEST STAR absolutely be in my top ten of the year, but it's one of my favorites of all time. I can't recommend this book enough.
Set in 1986 at the height of the AIDS epidemic, THE PRETTIEST STAR revolves around 24-year-old Brian, a gay man who has contracted AIDS in NYC and returns to his small midwestern town to spend his final days with his family. Told in shifting perspectives from Brian, his mother, and his teenage sister, we learn about a country, a town, and a family steeped in prejudice, ignorance, hate, fear, and shame.
This book completely tore me apart. Brian's chapters are told in the form of video recordings that he made to his family and are so intimate and haunting. I went back and forth during the chapters from his family members between wanting to scream at them and feeling hopeful that their beliefs and attitudes surrounding AIDS and the gay community might change. This was overall a beautiful, infuriating, and devastating read.
Not only will THE PRETTIEST STAR absolutely be in my top ten of the year, but it's one of my favorites of all time. I can't recommend this book enough.
June 7, 2023
Năm 1986, sau 6 năm Brian rời xa quê nhà Chester, Ohio, đến New York để sống thật với giới tính của mình. Nhưng không may, Brian đã mắc căn bệnh AIDS và chứng kiến bạn trai mình - Shawn, cũng như người đồng tính nam khác chết vì nó. Trong những ngày biết mình sẽ chết, Brian bỗng nhớ nhà và cậu quyết định trở về.
Việc Brian trở về khiến gia đình không khỏi vui mừng, nhưng khi biết cậu mắc phải AIDS và là gay, cả nhà không còn cách nào ngoài việc che giấu mọi người (bởi năm 80 bệnh AISD hay đồng tính bị xem là điều kinh tởm). Cuốn sách tràn ngập đầy cảm xúc khác nhau, lâu lắm mình mới khóc vì một cuốn sách.
Qua lời kể của Brian khi cậu ghi lại kiểu nhật kí về cuộc sống khi về nhà, lời kể về những người thân trước máy quay, ta thấy Brian là điển hình của người đồng tính và mắc phải AIDS những năm 80 nói chung và nói riêng, điều mong muốn muốn mình được thấu hiểu, chấp nhận và sống đúng với những gì mình muốn. Qua góc nhìn của người mẹ ta thấy những đau khổ mà các bậc phụ huynh phải chứng kiến con mình bị căn bệnh quái ác hành hạ, Brian từ một chàng trai trẻ khỏe mạnh biến thành sống không bằng chết.
Còn em gái Brian - Jess, khi cô bé đang ở tuổi đang phát triển còn phải bị bạn bè mắng miết và trêu đùa về anh trai. Xuyên suốt câu chuyện mình rất ấn tượng về Jess, khi cô bé dần trưởng thành đứng lên đấu tranh. Gia đình của Brian bị xa lánh, bị khủng bố và những lời khủng khiếp về Brian liên tục xuất hiện từ người dân địa phương lẫn người thân của họ, chỉ tiếc bởi y học chưa phát triển để họ có thể phần nào thấu hiểu cho Brian. Nhưng không hẳn ai cũng có ác ý, ta thấy được cô bạn thân Annie, bà nội của Brian, Andrew và mẹ anh ấy đều đối xử tốt với Brian không kì thị, không xa lánh Brian.
Việc tác giả lấy bối cảnh năm 80 đầy biến động khi AIDS được phát hiện, đa số người mắc phải là những người đồng tính nam, nên điều đó càng khiến cho họ bị kì thị hơn. Thật kinh khủng khi thời đấy họ xem "AIDS là sự trừng phạt của chúa cho người đồng tính", tất nhiên ta cũng không thể trách họ về phần nào đó. Ta biết được lý do mắc phải căn bệnh là do họ quan hệ không an toàn và có nhiều bạn tình, đó là một điều đáng trách, nhưng nếu xã hội thời đấy chấp nhận họ thì họ có như vậy không? Như Brian nếu xã hội chấp nhận những người như cậu thì cậu đã không rời bỏ nhà.
Dù lấy bối cảnh năm 80, nhưng tình trạng cuốn sách nêu ra vẫn còn ở ngày nay, biết bao nhiêu người ngoài kia vẫn còn bị kì thì và xa lánh khi là người đồng tính hoặc mắc phải AIDS như Brian? Phải từ bỏ quê nhà sống ở nơi ta được sống là chính mình nhưng đôi khi chẳng đúng đắn.
The Prettiest Star văn phong đơn giản về gia đình khơi dậy cảm xúc của mình, mang lại cho mình những cảm xúc tuyệt vời từ hy vọng đến đau khổ, nó xứng đáng được ngôi sao đẹp nhất.
Việc Brian trở về khiến gia đình không khỏi vui mừng, nhưng khi biết cậu mắc phải AIDS và là gay, cả nhà không còn cách nào ngoài việc che giấu mọi người (bởi năm 80 bệnh AISD hay đồng tính bị xem là điều kinh tởm). Cuốn sách tràn ngập đầy cảm xúc khác nhau, lâu lắm mình mới khóc vì một cuốn sách.
Qua lời kể của Brian khi cậu ghi lại kiểu nhật kí về cuộc sống khi về nhà, lời kể về những người thân trước máy quay, ta thấy Brian là điển hình của người đồng tính và mắc phải AIDS những năm 80 nói chung và nói riêng, điều mong muốn muốn mình được thấu hiểu, chấp nhận và sống đúng với những gì mình muốn. Qua góc nhìn của người mẹ ta thấy những đau khổ mà các bậc phụ huynh phải chứng kiến con mình bị căn bệnh quái ác hành hạ, Brian từ một chàng trai trẻ khỏe mạnh biến thành sống không bằng chết.
Còn em gái Brian - Jess, khi cô bé đang ở tuổi đang phát triển còn phải bị bạn bè mắng miết và trêu đùa về anh trai. Xuyên suốt câu chuyện mình rất ấn tượng về Jess, khi cô bé dần trưởng thành đứng lên đấu tranh. Gia đình của Brian bị xa lánh, bị khủng bố và những lời khủng khiếp về Brian liên tục xuất hiện từ người dân địa phương lẫn người thân của họ, chỉ tiếc bởi y học chưa phát triển để họ có thể phần nào thấu hiểu cho Brian. Nhưng không hẳn ai cũng có ác ý, ta thấy được cô bạn thân Annie, bà nội của Brian, Andrew và mẹ anh ấy đều đối xử tốt với Brian không kì thị, không xa lánh Brian.
"I think people are more scared of me being gay than they are about me having AIDS."
Việc tác giả lấy bối cảnh năm 80 đầy biến động khi AIDS được phát hiện, đa số người mắc phải là những người đồng tính nam, nên điều đó càng khiến cho họ bị kì thị hơn. Thật kinh khủng khi thời đấy họ xem "AIDS là sự trừng phạt của chúa cho người đồng tính", tất nhiên ta cũng không thể trách họ về phần nào đó. Ta biết được lý do mắc phải căn bệnh là do họ quan hệ không an toàn và có nhiều bạn tình, đó là một điều đáng trách, nhưng nếu xã hội thời đấy chấp nhận họ thì họ có như vậy không? Như Brian nếu xã hội chấp nhận những người như cậu thì cậu đã không rời bỏ nhà.
Dù lấy bối cảnh năm 80, nhưng tình trạng cuốn sách nêu ra vẫn còn ở ngày nay, biết bao nhiêu người ngoài kia vẫn còn bị kì thì và xa lánh khi là người đồng tính hoặc mắc phải AIDS như Brian? Phải từ bỏ quê nhà sống ở nơi ta được sống là chính mình nhưng đôi khi chẳng đúng đắn.
The Prettiest Star văn phong đơn giản về gia đình khơi dậy cảm xúc của mình, mang lại cho mình những cảm xúc tuyệt vời từ hy vọng đến đau khổ, nó xứng đáng được ngôi sao đẹp nhất.
September 6, 2020
I can tell you right now that this book will be on my best books of 2020 list because it BLEW ME AWAY.
Brian has been living a full life, in New York, but his days are now numbered. Diagnosed with AIDS, he now has to return to his hometown, in Appalachia where he had to hide who he was.
Set in the '80's, at the height of the AIDS epidemic, there is so much fear with this disease and Brian is finding very few are welcoming.
Living his life out loud also has fractured and strained his family, but this is the only place he has to go.
This haunting story is told in shifting viewpoints and each of them add their own element of process towards acceptance and understanding of Brian's life.
From the opening sentence, I was moved by this thoughtful novel that addresses the cruelty of this era, the misunderstanding that comes with living in a small town, and the hope that one can change their viewpoints and come to welcome their family members again.
I do think it also humanizes the struggles of these parents in a way that I thought was thoughtful and done with a lot of care.
I did this one on audiobook and the narration was exquisite. If you can do it in this format, I highly recommend it.
Along with the shifting viewpoints, it is also narrated by different voices, which really added to the experience and made each character really stand out.
Make sure you put this one at the top of your stack. You won't regret a single minute of it.
Brian has been living a full life, in New York, but his days are now numbered. Diagnosed with AIDS, he now has to return to his hometown, in Appalachia where he had to hide who he was.
Set in the '80's, at the height of the AIDS epidemic, there is so much fear with this disease and Brian is finding very few are welcoming.
Living his life out loud also has fractured and strained his family, but this is the only place he has to go.
This haunting story is told in shifting viewpoints and each of them add their own element of process towards acceptance and understanding of Brian's life.
From the opening sentence, I was moved by this thoughtful novel that addresses the cruelty of this era, the misunderstanding that comes with living in a small town, and the hope that one can change their viewpoints and come to welcome their family members again.
I do think it also humanizes the struggles of these parents in a way that I thought was thoughtful and done with a lot of care.
I did this one on audiobook and the narration was exquisite. If you can do it in this format, I highly recommend it.
Along with the shifting viewpoints, it is also narrated by different voices, which really added to the experience and made each character really stand out.
Make sure you put this one at the top of your stack. You won't regret a single minute of it.
May 17, 2020
This book was... kind of disappointing. I appreciate as many stories about AIDS as we can tell, but so much of this felt flat in ways I struggle to describe. Maybe it's that the characters outside of a select few felt deeply predictable--a mom struggling with her love for her son and her own homophobia, a dad who wants to just hide it all, the grandmother whose love can go beyond her homophobia--and the growth arcs felt predictable. The most compelling and interesting parts of the story were kept to the sidelines for most of it in favor of this kind of melodramatic, flat narrative. I think if this is the first narrative you're being exposed to about the early years of the ongoing AIDS epidemic, maybe it seems fine? I'm not sure, but regardless it was disappointing to me.
December 31, 2021
This books was HEARTBREAKING. Haven’t cried from reading in so long. What a moving and beautiful story.
August 2, 2025
Too sad for summer.
January 17, 2021
I would give this book more stars if I could. A more coherent review coming up once I stop crying.
Read
November 14, 2020FINAL REVIEW: An intimate look at small-town America’s reaction to the AIDS epidemic during the mid-1980s. Twenty-four year old Brian, who has AIDS, returns to his Ohioan hometown, back to a family he hasn’t seen in years.
I found this novel quite effective in portraying the heightened paranoia and bigotry toward the AIDS virus at that time. Several characters note that by 1986, people should be more informed about the disease. Yet even some of the characters who are more knowledgeable (“I know you can’t get it like that”) also show off attitudes of ignorance and bigotry. This book really hammers the idea of people purposely keeping themselves misinformed because of their own prejudices toward homosexuality. It even asks this question: are people more afraid of AIDS or the fact that Brian is gay?
During this era, Reagan ignored the epidemic and didn’t lift a finger to help dying Americans because those who were infected and/or associated with it were seen as lesser than. (It was believed by many that AIDS was God’s punishment against the gays.) And in a way this ideology mirrors some of the attitudes we’ve seen towards the Covid 19 pandemic. If your leader in government deems a pandemic not to be a big deal and spouts off wild accusations about its presence, why should their supporters believe it is worthy of further discussion? Reagan ignores the cries of help from those afflicted with AIDS, therefore the general population chooses to ignore it as well.
There are times when you wonder why Brian doesn’t pack up and return to New York City, back to the extended family he’s created over there. Some of his blood family and relatives reject him. The town shows its open distaste for him. The takeaway: do not underestimate the power of wanting to reconnect with one's own family. That seemed to be the driving force of the novel. I must say that I was very pleased by Sickels’ handling of a particular family member. Even though it was a frustrating and angering reading experience, by making this character behave a certain way to the bitter end made this narrative feel authentic; more poignant and tragic. The last two chapters are stunning.
Broke my heart.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CHif8PxAL...
I found this novel quite effective in portraying the heightened paranoia and bigotry toward the AIDS virus at that time. Several characters note that by 1986, people should be more informed about the disease. Yet even some of the characters who are more knowledgeable (“I know you can’t get it like that”) also show off attitudes of ignorance and bigotry. This book really hammers the idea of people purposely keeping themselves misinformed because of their own prejudices toward homosexuality. It even asks this question: are people more afraid of AIDS or the fact that Brian is gay?
During this era, Reagan ignored the epidemic and didn’t lift a finger to help dying Americans because those who were infected and/or associated with it were seen as lesser than. (It was believed by many that AIDS was God’s punishment against the gays.) And in a way this ideology mirrors some of the attitudes we’ve seen towards the Covid 19 pandemic. If your leader in government deems a pandemic not to be a big deal and spouts off wild accusations about its presence, why should their supporters believe it is worthy of further discussion? Reagan ignores the cries of help from those afflicted with AIDS, therefore the general population chooses to ignore it as well.
There are times when you wonder why Brian doesn’t pack up and return to New York City, back to the extended family he’s created over there. Some of his blood family and relatives reject him. The town shows its open distaste for him. The takeaway: do not underestimate the power of wanting to reconnect with one's own family. That seemed to be the driving force of the novel. I must say that I was very pleased by Sickels’ handling of a particular family member. Even though it was a frustrating and angering reading experience, by making this character behave a certain way to the bitter end made this narrative feel authentic; more poignant and tragic. The last two chapters are stunning.
Broke my heart.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CHif8PxAL...
May 19, 2020
Novels written with different voices as various chapters can be tricky. Emotion can be pulled away in the jumping around and change of focus.
August 28, 2024
I was a teenager when AIDS hit the streets and the world. When I heard and read about it in the news, these terrible stories of gay men dying of a disease nobody knew how to cure. How to stop this epidemic. The world watched and for a long time the world did nothing but watch. The fear was evident, all these young people suffering and no cure. It was a sad and tragic and heartbreaking time. All the rumours of how you could get sick. The fear of touch, of blood, of breathing the same air. It all seems so unreal now, and even sickening to think how people reacted out of fear. How people could call it the gay disease and God’s punishment for how they lived their lives.
This book recalls a lot of how I remember this dark and awful period in history. And it’s my opinion that there can’t be enough books like this. People have the habit to forget. To forget the suffering, to forget the truth about how the world looked, the people who denied the tragedy, the people who found an unimaginable truth in it.
This is anything but an easy read. Told from different pov’s we read the story of Brian, a young queer twenty-something who went to New York City to chase his dreams and returns to his hometown when he finds out he has AIDS, like so many of the friends he has already lost. Everything in this story takes you back to the 80’s, when there still was no cure, when fear ruled and even doctors were afraid to treat patients with AIDS. It’s heartbreaking to read how Brian and his family get rejection upon rejection, the hateful treatment of their own family, their friends, the people they’ve known for years. I was mad at his mother, for putting her religion and her fears and ashamed husband before her dying son. Eventually she came around and I have to admit, regained my respect, but I wanted to strangle her many times before that.
The only objection I have is that we only get Brian’s father’s pov in one chapter, the last one. I would have loved to get more of his thoughts sooner.
But thank the world for people like Andrew and Annie, the fearless caretakers, when especially Annie must have been so tired and angry and frustrated with yet another young friend dying while the people generally didn’t seem to care.
Thank the real world for the people who took the stage in their fight for medication, for recognition and for not accepting. For fighting for their dying friends, the queer community, to make the world aware that something needed to be done and quickly. It’s their undeniable strength for not giving up, for their continuing fight and uprising that this awful disease has found proper medication.
You might remember the movie, The streets of Philadelphia, where Tom Hanks portrays a victim of society’s fear for AIDS. Or the last photograph’s of Freddie Mercury, who died from it. It truly was as ugly as you think it was. Maybe even worse, almost beyond imagination.
And we should never forget.
This book recalls a lot of how I remember this dark and awful period in history. And it’s my opinion that there can’t be enough books like this. People have the habit to forget. To forget the suffering, to forget the truth about how the world looked, the people who denied the tragedy, the people who found an unimaginable truth in it.
This is anything but an easy read. Told from different pov’s we read the story of Brian, a young queer twenty-something who went to New York City to chase his dreams and returns to his hometown when he finds out he has AIDS, like so many of the friends he has already lost. Everything in this story takes you back to the 80’s, when there still was no cure, when fear ruled and even doctors were afraid to treat patients with AIDS. It’s heartbreaking to read how Brian and his family get rejection upon rejection, the hateful treatment of their own family, their friends, the people they’ve known for years. I was mad at his mother, for putting her religion and her fears and ashamed husband before her dying son. Eventually she came around and I have to admit, regained my respect, but I wanted to strangle her many times before that.
The only objection I have is that we only get Brian’s father’s pov in one chapter, the last one. I would have loved to get more of his thoughts sooner.
But thank the world for people like Andrew and Annie, the fearless caretakers, when especially Annie must have been so tired and angry and frustrated with yet another young friend dying while the people generally didn’t seem to care.
Thank the real world for the people who took the stage in their fight for medication, for recognition and for not accepting. For fighting for their dying friends, the queer community, to make the world aware that something needed to be done and quickly. It’s their undeniable strength for not giving up, for their continuing fight and uprising that this awful disease has found proper medication.
You might remember the movie, The streets of Philadelphia, where Tom Hanks portrays a victim of society’s fear for AIDS. Or the last photograph’s of Freddie Mercury, who died from it. It truly was as ugly as you think it was. Maybe even worse, almost beyond imagination.
And we should never forget.
July 24, 2020
The Prettiest Star is a snapshot of a disease. A brutal, devastating and othering disease. Brian escaped his small judgemental hometown in Ohio and landed in a city that would embrace him. He just happened to fall in love and contract AIDS. After his love dies of AIDs, Brian sees ghosts everywhere in New York City. The disease is ravishing his life and the people in it so Brian makes the decision to go home to die. Home to homophobia, ridicule and hiding all the brightest parts of him. This book is told from three perspectives: Brian, who is making a documentary of his life with disease, Sharon, his mother, who is desperate to have her son back, but doesn’t want anyone to know about him, and Jess, his sister, who just desperately wants her life to be normal. Sickels paints a heartbreaking family portrait of a religious and otherwise loving family that causes a lot of pain and confusion for Brian. I see reviews of this book saying that this book is predictable and that’s a little disconcerting. Yes, it’s predictable in the inevitability of disease. It’s predictable in the sense that this story plays out so much to this day - the casual homophobia under the guise of being righteous. It’s predictable in that “40,000 people died of AIDS and it took six years before Reagan even mentioned it in a speech.” It’s historical fiction. What isn’t predictable, though, is Sickel’s beautiful writing and character study. I was so affected by this book. I hope you’ll read it.
We live our lives not realizing which moments are special or which are ordinary- what will we remember, what memories will we grab onto, to hold close? All of these moments that make up a life.
We live our lives not realizing which moments are special or which are ordinary- what will we remember, what memories will we grab onto, to hold close? All of these moments that make up a life.
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