What If A Woman Had Written "A Separate Peace????????????"

                                   This thought kept racing through my mind as I read Amber Dermont's genre linked novel, "The Starboard Sea."  The Prep School Novel has become almost a kind of genre in itself, since John Knowles first patented it, back in 1959 or 1960.  And even though Dermont's plot points cover some familiar ground--the deaths hinted at, the reader can almost guess their cause--the kind of sexual ambiguity that characterized Knowles' book, or say, Robbert Anderson's "Tea And Sympathy," is missing, because this is the Millennial Age, baby, and Dermont is going to tell it like it was!  In some ways, I wish she hadn't.  I knew what was coming.  But when it  does, it does with a vengeance.  So, if you have any intentions of reading this book--and I recommend you do--then stop reading this post right here!

                                   The reader knows early on that Jason Prosper, the protagonist, is haunted by the suicide death of his friend, Cal.  He arrives one home one night, and finds him hanging from a beam in the room they share. Living through someone's suicide is painful--I personally know this--so it is no wonder Jason ends up at another prep school.  How could he bear to stay there?

                                    But Jason is hung up on Cal in more ways than one.  He is tormented not only by his death, but the feeling that he caused it, revealed in a brutal scene, when Cal comes out to Jason, with feelings any reader, by this point, know both boys have for one another.  Except Jason is not yet ready to face them, and so he brutally, and homophobically rapes Cal, destroying whatever feelings of beauty the poor Cal might have had about their potential relationship.  The scene is hateful, and before the reader goes hating Jason, let me assure you, he pays.  He pays, in more ways than one.

                                    Prior to the violent rape, when Cal is speaking honestly to Jason, he  mentions something that touched me personally.  He says how Jason is lucky, because he can "pass," and Cal can't. What Cal means is that Jason, more than he, can pass for being straight, and, because of this, the world is kinder to those gays who can.  My personal experience, right down to the very job I do, is an illustration of this point, and shows how keenly insightful Miss Dermont is as a writer.

                                     If there was ever a more tormented figure than Jason Prosper, I would be hard pressed to say.  When he becomes involved with iconoclast classmate Aidan (a female), their association almost leads to her death, which turns out to be a murder disguised as a suicide, and something the girl knew was meant for Jason, for a boating accident in which he almost killed another classmate. Except  Aidan goes in his place, dying a death that should have been his.

                                    Yes, I know it seems piled on.  But with all this and the Black Monday stock market crash of 1987, Amber Dermont keeps everything focused.  Jason has a hard road ahead of him; I would not want to have go through life, living with what he has.  But the novel is so compelling, the characters so well drawn, that the reader becomes involved; I found myself wondering what would become of Jason in the years following this story.  I hope he finds peace.

                                    Dermont's novel may be full of genre conventions, but she does have a future as a writer.  With all that has gone before, she closes with one of the most beautiful closing sentences in literature.  It took my breath away and made my weep.

                                      But you have to read the entire, book, dears, to get its full meaning!!!!!!!!!!!!!