Overall Quality 4.0 / 5.0 (entertaining, if light, read)
Gay Inclusive? Moderately – two secondary gay characters
Gay Positive? Very – both characters are well-rounded and important to the story

Okay, yeah, I have to admit – the plot is nothing new. Mysterious Monster Makes Mayhem; Sassy Star Saves the Day.

Specifically, the vampires are up to no good – a newly made vampire possessed by a demon begins wrecking havoc on the Mercy Thompson’s small community. It’s up to her, along with her werewolf allies and lone vampire friend, to figure out what’s going on and put a stop to it.

Once again, with textured characters and a involving alternate world, the author brings the story to life. It says a lot about the characters when they each have their own minor concerns that almost rival the main story for interest.

For example, Mercy’s gay werewolf cowboy friend (whew!) Warren returns. At one point, he’s wounded by the Big Bad of the story; and certain members of his pack – sensing weakness in a guy they never really cared for because he’s gay – try to take advantage to knock Warren from his position in the pack. It’s a relatively minor thread, but the relationships (good and bad) that exist between these characters possess a vitality that keeps me turning pages as fast as I can.

On the other hand, the fact that subplots nearly eclipse the main story doesn’t speak well of the main story. Considering Briggs’ inventiveness in her world-building, it’s a bit of a let-down to find the central plot to be relatively formulaic.

Nevertheless, Blood Bound was an immensely entertaining and enjoyable read with an exciting climax and meaty denouement (an improvement over the first book’s conclusion). A great read for a rainy Sunday afternoon.

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See also my review of the first Mercy Thompson book, Moon Called.

Lehmkuhl has penned a surprisingly readable account of his experiences under America’s “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” (DADT) military policy.

The narrative is well-presented with simple, conversational prose. It helps that Lehmkuhl details most of his experiences in a dramatic way (showing, not telling) through dialogue and action. This brings his stories to life for the reader, and yields a book that is well-paced and well-structured.

He starts with his youth and adolescence, but the main thrust of Here’s What We’ll Say focuses on his time in the Air Force Academy as a gay man. The multilayered account reveals interesting facts not just about gay life there, but also simply about the world of a military academy. I have very little exposure to the military world, and I enjoyed learning about a strange and unfamiliar universe.

Lehmkuhl’s account sometimes veers into steamy. He doesn’t shy from writing about sexual experiences when appropriate. I found that information to add another layer of nuance, but I’m glad it doesn’t go over the top. This is not an erotic account of a string of sexual encounters in the military.

The author intersperses commentary and philosophical consideration amid his recounted experiences. Who knew Mr. Lehmkuhl has such depth? He writes about the implications and effects of homophobia in general and DADT in particular, and I found his arguments well-reasoned and well-spoken. Yes, of course, I’m biased to agree with him because I already believe DADT is homophobic, but it still says something that he’s able to marshal his arguments in a highly articulate and thoughtful manner.

Nevertheless, Here’s What We’ll Say suffers from some weaknesses.

First and foremost, Lehmkuhl includes a disclaimer at the beginning that some of the experiences he recounts, especially in the last few chapters, belong to other people. While I appreciate his reasoning for taking this approach, it damages the book’s internal validity and external usefulness. Specifically, it renders the book less reputable as a source document. How can I refer to it as a work of pure non-fiction when it’s been fictionalized, and there’s no way for me to tell what’s true and what’s not? I can’t help but think there’s another approach that would yield the same value while helping maintain a greater degree of journalistic integrity.

Additionally, the beginning (his youth and adolescence) goes on a little too long, while the end comes too fast. The finale glosses over many of Lehmkuhl’s more recent and better known accomplishments.

Lehmkuhl seems to have a reputation as an attention whore. This book does not support that assertion. In fact, I wish he had spent more time on his later adventures. Regardless of his relationship with the media, he’s enjoyed some fascinating experiences. I would have loved to hear more about his experiences with Chip; the television show The Amazing Race; and dealing with such a high level of visibility as an out, proud gay man in a committed partnership. And of course, I would have been interested in hearing more about his relationship with Lance Bass. But then, they were still encoupled when this book was published.

I scored high on the Gay Positivity Scale. Clearly, DADT is not gay-positive; but Here’s What We’ll Say is a work of (sort of) non-fiction exploring the issue. I can’t fault the book’s positivity because of a government policy. Rather, I admire Lehmkuhl’s self-confidence and empowered response. The book reveals a man who makes the best of living in a virulently anti-gay atmosphere, and that is very positive.

Rowling has earned her place alongside such fantasy luminaries as J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, and Ursula K. LeGuin. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows shines as the best book of her seven book series: it’s exciting, engaging, surprising, and cathartic. She deftly combines action, adventure, comedy, suspense, horror, and romance into a lovely page-turner. But even this book alone would not earn her praise alongside the likes of Tolkien, had she not written the preceding six books. Taken as a whole, Rowling has created an epic series that will likely survive the test of time as a classic of fantasy literature. The genius she shares with those other authors is not so much the exceptional writing skills (others have already commented on Rowling’s writing weaknesses, so I will not belabor the point) but rather her soaring imagination and fantastic instincts for pure storytelling. People love a good story, and it’s obvious Rowling loves to tell one, and has the imagination to back it up.

The story proceeds with a fast-paced rhythm, an ebb-and-flow of slower, more thoughtful and emotive narrative followed by supremely exciting, tense, suspenseful action. The action sequences are completely absorbing. The chapter concerning the Ministry of Magic, for example, literally left my heart racing. The plot is fairly linear, from which a predictable pattern emerges. But the back-story – about Harry’s parents, Snape, and Dumbledore’s background – which Rowling has doled out in carefully controlled bits over the last six books finally comes together in surprising, and sometimes poetic, ways. The ending, in particular, left me impressed with her ability to weave disparate threads of information together.

Ah, the ending. Of course I’m not going to spoil it. I will comment that the conclusion satisfies but for one caveat: I was never that impressed with Voldemort as villain. I always found him somewhat pedestrian. The Dark Lord of Mordor from Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings, now that’s one scary dude. And the nemesis in Le Guin’s classic A Wizard of Earthsea (1968) simply dazzles with its poetry, unexpectedness, and inventiveness. But Voldemort has always struck me as a bit too silly to take seriously. But I suppose Rowling was stuck with him in the grown-up Deathly Hallows after having created him in the children’s Sorcerer’s Stone (the first book). The ending is pleasing enough in its action and resolution; but it didn’t blow me away, and I largely blame that on Voldemort having underwhelmed me as Harry’s nemesis.

And I thought the epilogue was just plain dumb. It was kind of like having a delicious dinner, followed by an unfortunate dessert that left a bitter aftertaste. Still, I can see what Rowling was trying to do, and don’t let a handful of pages stop you from reading this wonderful story.

It’s a joy to journey with Harry, Ron, and Hermione on their final adventure opposing Lord Voldemort, as they try to piece together Dumbledore’s thin clues from the last volume to figure out how to stop Lord Voldemort permanently, so that he cannot return again. Rowling does a great job of incorporating characters, objects, and minor plot threads from previous books into a single, comprehensive, and conclusive volume. Deathly Hallows is easily the darkest, most mature, and most sophisticated of the series, and yet moments of humor and the same whimsy that made the early books so magical and appealing nicely counterbalance the tragedy and terror. Indeed, the darkness of the story – and yes, terrible things happen to the characters in Deathly Hallows – emphasizes the lighter moments all the more.

As for gay content, there is none. Before I started reading, I was still hopeful. If she were going to include any gay content, this would be the book. Because it’s the last, she doesn’t need to worry about sales for the next book in the series, and perhaps in the most mature book of the series she’d finally be willing to tackle gay characters and themes. I didn’t expect much (well, actually, I didn’t expect anything, but still) more than a mention of a minor male character reaching in a moment of terror to hold hands with his boyfriend, or a secondary female character rushing to the defense of her girlfriend during a battle sequence. In other words, inclusion that’s casual, simple, and little more than a sentence long.

Rowlings announced to an audience at New York City’s Carnegie Hall on October 12, 2007 that Dumbledore is gay. Furthermore, she’s since added, “It is in the book. It’s very clear in the book” (1).

Rebecca Traister, writing for Salon.com, argues that “a close reading would reveal that The Deathly Hallowswas shot through with intimations about the headmaster’s sexuality”(2).

Some of the pertinent quotes:

• Early in the book, Dumbledore is accused of taking “an unnatural interest in [Harry] Potter” (27).
• Midway through, Harry finds a picture of Dumbledore, laughing with a “handsome companion,” who turns out to be a nasty magician named Gellert Grindelwald (353).
• “[Dumbledore and Grindelwald, as seventeen-year-olds] took to each other at once” (356).
• In Dumbledore’s own words: “Grindelwald. You cannot imagine how his ideas caught me, Harry, inflamed me” (716).

Even in hindsight, I disagree that these passages make clear that Dumbledore and Grindelwald were anything more than friends. The first quote from the book is literally a scurrilous accusation, not a statement of fact. I am thrilled – how could I not be? – that Rowling has posthumously outed Dumbledore. I’m just puzzled why she didn’t do it in the book itself. She says the idea of Dumbledore being gay came early, “probably before the first book was published” (3).

So why not include an exchange such as the one suggested by Michael Jensen from AfterElton.com:

Harry: Have you ever been in love, Headmaster?
Dumbeldore: I was once, Harry. I loved Gellert Grindewald [sic], but it wasn’t meant to be.(4)

Alas, I was doomed to disappointment. As I first started reading, I was forgiving of the exclusion. She starts the book off with a bang, and I respect that in a story that’s down-to-business and go-go-go, she simply wouldn’t have time to divert from the main story, even for a minor mention. But as I delved deeper, I realized Rowlings includes a lot of relationship activity in this book, ranging from shy advances to developing romances to an outright wedding to pregnancy. The exclusion of gay characters is all the more glaring in comparison. In thousands of pages and well over 300 named characters, not a single gay character or theme merits existence (again, I emphasize, in the books themselves). I will always love the stories – and thank you, Jo, for outing Dumbledore! – but it nevertheless irritates me that the Wizarding World apparently belongs solely to straight people and a single apparently closeted wizard.

I write more extensively on this topic in my essay “The Gay of Harry Potter: Subtext and Omission.”

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(1) Philip Marchand, “Dumbledore Gay From the Start?” TheStar.com, 24 October 2007, http://www.thestar.com/entertainment/Books/article/269817 (retrieved 15 May 2008).

(2) Rebecca Traister, “Dumbledore? Gay. J.K. Rowling? Chatty.” Salon.com, 23 October 2007, http://www.salon.com/books/feature/2007/10/23/dumbledore/ (retrieved 15 May 2008).

(3) Philip Marchand, “Dumbledore Gay From the Start?” TheStar.com, 24 October 2007, http://www.thestar.com/entertainment/Books/article/269817 (retrieved 15 May 2008).

(4) Michael Jensen, “So Dumbledore Is Gay. What Does It All Mean?” AfterElton.com, 22 October 2007, http://www.afterelton.com/blog/michaeljensen/dumbledore-gay-what-does-it-mean (retrieved 14 May 2008).