The impetus to read something is more productive when in a happier mood. An author like Burroughs requires focus, and acceptance that happiness can be bitter.

I picked a book by one of my favourite authors. A literary genius for me. An inspired and tormented writer; someone who sadly passed away in 1997, and left behind a catalogue of amazingly poetic, chaotic and boundary pushing titles. Burroughs, like Kerouac, is a writer who takes personal experience and puts the spin of a tale on it. Both were part of the Beat Generation of writers, so it makes sense that correspondance and messages are sent between them amongst their books.

Considered an unofficial sequel to Junky (an amazing, straight forward tale of an addict), Queer takes over where Junky left off. Beginning in Mexico, where William Lee ended up after escaping from his drug-fuelled existence in Junky.

Queer is a tragic tale about an unrequited love for another man that is never truly realised or reciprocated. The story could be exchanged for a male and female character, and it would still contain the same emotional torment and pain that Burroughs puts to paper, baring his tragedy and emotion to the reader. If this possiblity makes you feel uncomfortable, then perhaps you need to get out more. It’s not gender that is relevant, but the emotion.

It’s frighteningly revealing as he reminds us of the murder of his wife, Joan Vollmer Burroughs. A murder he has been accused of

The character, Bill, is looking for a companion. Perhaps not love, but someone he can be with, something that he can share his existence with. He tries with several characters, none of which work out due to the realities of life, and that perhaps not everyone wants him. Disillusioned, he happens to see someone that catches his eye one day, going home slightly drunk. Discovering Allerton, the character Bill falls for, is both a success and a tragedy for Bill.

Bill befriends Allerton in the most ridiculous of manners. Allerton, not a homosexual, tries to stay away from Bill, assuming he is just some crazed mad man. Bill tries to make amends, and eventually Allerton succumbs to Bill’s charm.

The relationship begins as one of a distant friendship, more along the lines of acquaintances. Bill, however, cannot contain his emotion, and needs to discover what Allerton thinks of the suggestion of homosexuality, not having declared that he was a queer initially, and why should he? One of Bill’s associates, Dume, takes Allerton around the gay bars of Mexico, at Allerton’s request.

Curiosity having gotten the better of him, he does not engage in any activity, and merely observes. The next morning Bill and Allerton meet, now having decided to meet every day at 5PM in the Ship Ahoy, a drinking place. Bill, now aware that Dume would probably have explained his orientation, no longer is he quiet about his sexuality, and openly invites Allerton to the reality of what he is. Allerton does not react in any prejudicial manner, and accepts Bill as he is. Bill however wants more, and wishes to pursue a relationship with Allerton.

We read as Bill’s advances to Allerton, first are accepted and then rejected. Bill is whole heartedly in love with someone who rejects his love, and although tormented with anger and hatred at Allerton’s behaviour, still pursues him. Allerton, now sexually involved with Bill, does so on terms set by both. He is neither interested in a relationship, nor wants Bill’s love. He is only in for this, because it’s there.

The story could be exchanged for a male and female character, and it would still contain the same emotional torment and pain that Burroughs puts to paper

Allerton is a single-minded, individualistic character, with no interest in either being told what to do, or how to do it. He feels suffocated by relationships, never having had a best friend, never having been close to anyone. Yet, Allerton sticks with Bill at several moments, and equally leaves him alone. Bill is destroyed at times by Allerton’s, as he sees it, betrayal. It’s a stark, emotively drenched tale of love for one person, whose love is rejected by another.

Burroughs opens the book with a heart -moving, and emotional piece about the after thoughts of writing Queer. Why he wrote it, and what it meant. It’s frighteningly revealing as he reminds us of the murder of his wife, Joan Vollmer Burroughs. A murder he has been accused of. Burroughs loved Joan, and married her to take her out of a Nazi occupied Germany. This isn’t explained in this book, but he explains how his friends believe the writing is that of guilt. That is his drive; if she hadn’t died, if he hadn’t shot her (the mystery surrounding why or if he shot her is still that), he could never write. The paradox.

So, Burroughs writes to write himself out of the guilt he feels for her death. It’s not something you see written everyday, for which you appreciate the honesty, if still mystified by the purposes of the death, and wonder about the sheer venom and chaos in some of his books inspired by Joan’s death, and whether, before his death, he had written his guilt away.

Verdict: Honesty laid bare through gutsy writing.