Rating: 4.5

I rarely write reviews, but having perused a few of the ones meant to reflect "Pryor Rendering"'s appeal, I felt that I had to add my two cents. The novel left me with the sensation of struggling to swallow a lump lodged tightly in my throat. The ending seems abrupt and disappointing, but only initially. The longer I let the last few scenes stew in my mind, the more I felt that their gradual dissolution reflects life, and its baffling ability to leave us itching for more; for something grander and more polished than what it inevitably has to offer. But that's where the truth makes itself so painfully known. "Pryor Rendering" is a coming-of-age story, and it stays true to its form.

What I absolutely cannot wrap my head around is some people's claim that the writing is average at best, or that Gary Reed slowed down the natural flow of his hand to grip a thesaurus for a sprinkling of a few arbitrary words. As someone who consumes a few books weekly, I have come across every imaginable style of writing, from perfunctory, simple sentences to language so dense and sticky that it left me struggling to turn the pages; so lost was I on my quest to reabsorb the same paragraphs over and over again.

Gary Reed's writing falls into the latter category. On more than one occasion, I was left gasping for breath, and quite certain that I could both taste and feel the images that were being carved so smoothly into the page. The memory of vegetation being as thick and muggy "as wet tongues panting with life" inside the story's legendary greenhouse stands out in aching detail. I'm quite certain that I've never been this riveted by a piece of decriptive writing before. Anyone who loves to read, and doesn't resort to picking up a book out of a sense of obligation once a year, will have no trouble with the vocabulary. The claim that a thesaurus is responsible for, or somehow obstructs, the novel's artistry seems preposterous.

In fact, I was hooked from the very first page, despite the rather morose happenings and Charlie's helpless circumstances. Beyond the lulling sense of lethargy that makes up the novel's ambience, a strong feeling of romance and arousal permeates every page. I felt sucked between the lines, completely at the mercy of Gary's immortalized voice. It should be said that it's quite rare for me to achieve this state of abandon while wandering around any book's unknown surroundings.

The story is tender, provocative, imaginative and sensual. The most wonderful part of the entire experience is that I never would have connected these impressions to the novel, remembering how my eyes skimmed the title and licked their way up and down the cover warily. I feel like I've gained something without ever kneading my mind into a state of tragic anticipation. ( )

Growing up in rural Oklahoma hasn't been easy for your Charlie Hope. Daily life runs toward the mundane, listening to his mother Ida's tales of his father Garl Hope or spending time at his secret spot by the lake. His only real means of escape comes from Chick, his heavy-drinking grandfather, who totes him all over the Tulsa area, making appearances at all the dive bars and saloons. After one such trip, Ida and Chick have quite a rout about everything from taking such a young boy out drinking to the truth about Garl, not realizing that young Charlie's listening to every word. When he realizes all is not quite at it seems about his long-dead father, a wedge works its way between Charlie and Ida, and he soon begins to question his past and what a future in Pryor holds for him. But that's nothing compared to his chance meeting with Dewar, one of the orphan boys from the Strang House. Soon, they begin spending more time together, and Charlie discovers that he's not the same as everyone else in town. This understanding shakes up not only his life, but the lives of those around him in unexpected ways.

"Pryor Rendering" is populated with interesting characters: young Charlie Hope struggling not only with the realization that his father wasn't the fine man his mother painted him to be, but also with his burgeoning attraction to his fellow schoolboy Dewar; Dewar, who's trying to survive the Strang Home and school until he graduates and can skip out of town; Owen the Turtle Man, a hermit who offers a surprisingly simple and reasonable view on life and relationships; and a host of others, all of whom give Charlie insight into the world around him. They all come across as real people rather than two-dimensional words on a page, making it very easy to get caught up in their stories.

I also liked that the novel spins a very positive outlook on coming out. Charlie notices how different he feels and acts from the other boys around him, but rather than let that drag him down, he grabs onto it, realizing it maybe a way for him to escape the mundane life in Pryor. Sure, Charlie's mother Ida is a little disappointed when he tells her, but the other characters see it as a natural part of growing up. In fact, Charlie finds people who are accepting of him just as he is, giving him the confidence to remain true to himself -- even if it means having to let go of the one thing you love.

I had never heard of this novel until I checked through Publishing Triangle's 100 Best Gay and Lesbian Novels. Though, it's not on the publisher's list but rather on the list chosen by readers. Which surprises me as it presents a well-crafted tale of a boy struggling with his sexual identity while maneuvering through the daily drama of his family life. It's is definitely worth reading. ( )