The idea is to write a (snark-free) persuasive review every month—one designed to convince you to read a book that I not only loved but also was changed by.

I get recs all the time for “a good book” and “a fun read” but my attitude is: unless it’s one of the best books you’ve read in your life, keep it to yourself. There's plenty of Good Enough media out there—I only want to be suggested life-changers.

So that's what I'm attempting every month: if you've been convinced, please comment below and reward my efforts.

City of Night by John Rechy

City of Night is the weird kid who (eventually) gets praised for being “unapologetically himself” and has no idea what anyone means by that. It is its own thing. I can’t think of a single comp title—it’s not “reminiscent of x” or “in the vein of y”. City of Night is a subculture book told from the perspective of a young male hustler selling his body in various American cities. Despite this summary, it’s not lascivious (it’s the opposite of A Little Life in every way.) It was published in 1963 and if it were pitched now, I’m certain an editor would trauma porn-ify it.

As much as City of Night describes a world that is entirely foreign to me, it doesn’t have that modern pedantic emphasis on IDENTITY. When I was writing my book, I felt tremendous pressure to define and reduce identities (“don’t you think you should clarify why Lilah calls herself Taiwanese sometimes and Chinese sometimes?”) I dislike when you can feel a book/author working hard to present itself on a platter (sometimes we call this pandering) to compel readers to empathize with its characters (think of cloying reviews of POC stories that are like, Author brings us into a lush and vibrant world of Other that feels so realistic I could nearly taste the Other Food—wow Other people have humanity too!) Empathy is a fine-to-good goal for writers, but it cannot be the main goal. It’s like if your entire social goal was to get people to like you—that personality type is insufferable.

I came to City of Night by way of Gus Van Sant’s My Own Private Idaho, which is an amalgam of Rechy’s book + Henry IV, Part 2 (the combo works incredibly well). The tone of the movie is very faithful to Rechy’s writing, which I'll describe as longform vignette.

Rechy’s voice is humorous and matter-of-fact and never sensationalizes. His world and lifestyle is normal to him and he doesn’t sensationalize its “tragic” elements. You don’t read for salacious acts but to see what “youngman” thinks next or does next. The character is more interesting than the so-called lifestyle.

Something I appreciate in every medium is when the predictable scenes take place offscreen. I love when a movie cuts before a would-be cliché and trusts the audience to understand what happens after the bedroom door is shut or whatever. I feel restless when action is “rising”. Suspense and build-up almost always feel cheap. I know this is how 90% of media is formatted but … it’s boring. 

I’m not anti-formula. A deftly executed formulaic story is a testament to why the formula exists. But I have a soft spot for stories that defy the mold without feeling contrarian or “subversive” (I love a “nothing happens” story). City of Night doesn’t break rules for the sake of breaking rules. It has a loose, rambly sensibility that belies its (could-be) very serious subject matter (also, it doesn’t use apostrophes in contractions [eg: Im and didnt]). I admire the disregard for the typical conflict/resolution arc—youngman just leaves and goes to a different city in multiple instances where I can imagine an editor saying, “He should really stay put and experience some growth”. Scenes end abruptly and you accept it.