
This isn’t an easy book to describe (what a reassuring thing to hear from someone who’s about to describe a book to you!). As far as plot, it’s about a young man taking care of an older man who is dying. But this book defies anything as conventional as a plot – it’s not really about what happens, although it is about what happens. But it is also about the memories of what happens. Blackouts is an exploration of memory – our own personal memories, what we share together as memories, how we make and store those memories – and maybe most importantly the gaps that exist in memories. The blackouts, if you will.
Early in the novel the narrator makes his way to a place called “The Palace”, which feels distant from the world in nearly every way. There, he cares for an older man (Juan) that he met briefly years ago when they were both in a mental health facility. The two men reconnect, with the narrator (known only as “Nene”, which is what Juan calls him playfully) volunteering to care for the older man as he nears death. They trade stories about their life, which “Nene” is hungry to hear, as he looks up to Juan as an older gay man. Juan tells his younger friend about his experience with a book called Sex Variants.
And somewhere in here is the departure from an entirely fictional plot. While the two men having the conversation that frames this book are assumed to be fictional, the stories they talk about are anchored in true history. Pages from the very real “Sex Variants: A Study of Homosexual Patterns” are included, but transformed into poetry through intentional blackouts, interspersed throughout the novel.
Juan also reflects on his relationship with one of the co-authors of the study – Jan Gay, whose pioneering work was removed from her and transformed, relegating her to a mere assistant. Jan Gay was the creator the interview technique they used to interview 80 people – 40 men, 40 women, all who identified as gay, although most not openly. Gay wanted to share more about her community, but when she partnered with George Henry in writing the final book, her work in his hands became something much more judgmental.
Blackouts is a sort of vindication for Jan Gay and her desire to connect with the medical community in an attempt at developing understanding (and full civil rights). Her work was twisted, but in this novel Torres reclaims the beauty in this small sample of the larger queer community.
The novel can be disorienting at times – everything feels ephemeral, slipping between memories and a “present” that is full of unknowns. The Palace is described obliquely, with references to others who exist in the space but are never really seen – everything feels ghostly, haunted.
While the novel itself doesn’t have much in the way of linear plot, there are stories that hold it together. Juan’s personal history (which is a portal into the life of Jan Gay) is one such story. There is also the narrator’s personal backstory, and a particularly affecting passage in which he narrates the demise of a love affair through snippets told almost backwards (reminding me a bit of Time’s Arrow).
Overall, this novel managed to be both contemporary and historical. Reading it is an experience that remains with you – I hope you have the chance to get lost within its pages.