Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #651287 in Books
• Published on: 2007-01-18
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Paperback
• 336 pages

Customer Reviews

A Classic Masterpiece
Read this book today. It is a real classic masterpiece. A beautiful love story between Mathew a 15 year old American boy at a French Boarding School with Michel his French teacher. A book you will read and cherish and keep forever.

Absolutely beautiful and Compelling
Finistere written by Fritz Williams in the early 50's is an exceptionally beautiful, compelling book.

The book deals with love like no other book I have ever read. You feel yourself being swallowed up in the turmoil, anguish and the all encompassing nature of the love presented to you by Mathew and Michel. The book's eloquence, beauty and prose show itself as a masterpiece of its time.

It is difficult to comprehend why this book was forgotten in the annals of time. Less remarkable books have often been canonised to the detriment of more beautiful deserving literature.

I found it a remarkable book of astute perception on matters that appear still unresolved in today's society. The only parallel that has differed from the early fifties to now, is that homosexuality in itself was contentious not necessarily the age of it's participants, however now the fact that Mathew was fifteen and his teacher twice his age is considered more contentious. Or as many see it in the gay community a way to demonise what one could do so with impunity and honestly in the past against homosexuality.

This book is incredibly interesting in terms of its historical perspective. Very few people reading the book now would notice the subtle differences that show it to be indicative of its time apart from its lack of hysteria surrounding the age difference. The platonic relationship Mathew shares with Scott his father's friend in the present climate would be deemed inappropriate. The lack of an awareness of homosexuality at times made it easier for friendships to form and situations to occur which would be impossible to recreate now.

I could not stop reading this book until the last page. Mathew's love of Michel appeared completely genderless. He would have loved Michel regardless of what he was. It is this absolute certainty that overrides everything. Michel a more jaded character clearly sees that Mathew is taking him to almost certain destruction... an end, but cannot stop himself being driven as if possessed by a suicide parasite. The beautiful evocative descriptions of love in the prose are eloquently detailed. Michel views himself as an increasingly sick man in agony and pain for which Mathew's presence offers him like a drug only short term reprieve before he is spiralling again in self doubt, denial and sickness. The agonising, inevitable end brought tears to my eyes

The most beautiful love story I have ever read.

"He had found his place in the world"
At the opening of this novel, set in the 1920s, after the breakdown of his parents' marriage, 12 year old Matthew is taken to live in Paris by his mother. His inexplicable adoration of an older, male family friend becomes clearer to Matthew when he is sent to a French boarding school and experiences his sexual awakening with another boy - who at 13 is a year older, and is everything Matthew is not. Such hero-worship is later replaced when, at 15, Matthew falls in love with one of his teachers, Michel, who is in his late-20s. Inevitably the pair then face their own internal struggles as well as the external ones against a hostile society.

Fritz Peters' characterisation beautifully captures the naïve, isolated Matthew, and the somewhat bitter, cynical Michel, along with exquisite three-dimensional portraits of the members of Matthew's family. And in Finistère, the father of most contemporary coming-of-age novels, the author expounds those timeless sensations of burgeoning gay self-awareness: Matthew's love for Michel "had made him come to life"..."The sense of guilt that had formed questions inside him, pointing an angry finger at him, vanished".

Lest this simple exposition suggest that Finistère is a 'typical' gay coming-of-age novel, it should be stressed that it was originally published as a mainstream novel in 1951 - clearly a bold move by the author in that era. This is reflected in the content of the novel, which, unsurprisingly, portrays the life of a gay man as a dangerous one, and since two men could not constitute a 'family', the only thing left was for homosexuality to be equated with furtive, underground sex and ultimately, loneliness. What is surprising for a novel of its time is the sympathetic portrayal of the two lovers, Matthew and Michel. Undoubtedly this imbues the novel with a particular historical significance, and it is fortunate that it has been revived by a collaboration between Arsenal Pulp Press and the Little Sister's bookstore.

Much more can (and no doubt will) be said by readers about the importance of this novel in its historical context and how it sheds light on the lives of gay people in our past. Indeed, the eminent Michael Bronski ('Pulp Friction' etc) introduces this new edition with fascinating insight into this aspect of the work. However, it may reasonably be asked why it is important to revive novels such as this, when contemporary gay coming-of-age literature abounds on our bookshelves. Leaving aside the fact that Finistère is a beautifully written and poignant novel in its own right, clearly historical literature is important as a yardstick by which we can assess how society has evolved over the years, and it is for this reason, even if no other, that Finistère - and other works of its era - need to be kept alive. While one can point to many changes in the treatment of gay men since the 1950s, Finistère - as with other coming-of-age novels, is ultimately about the internal struggle that a young gay person goes through in trying to find his place in a hostile society. It thus serves as a necessary reminder that the torment that Matthew undergoes in the novel still exists, more than half a century later, for the young gay person struggling to "arrive at the only place where he has ever really belonged" - and this is one reason why Finistère remains as pertinent today as it was in 1951.

Moreover, it is illuminative that the 'shock value' of the novel when first published was its sympathetic portrayal of gay characters - not their respective ages. Disturbingly, the novel still has potential 'shock value' today - precisely because the relationship involved is that of a 15 year old adolescent and a late-20s man. It is therefore apparent that persecution and hatred have not disappeared in the 50-odd years since Finistère was published - they have merely found a new, more convenient, target. Clearly Matthew's consensual relationship with Michel was highly significant ("What had happened to him was an end to all fear...Michel had brought him back to life") - and yet the Matthews of today are still legally denied such life-altering salvation.

Ultimately, therefore, Finistère remains a work of importance and deserves to be read - not only for the beautiful sorrow and passionate emotions that the novel itself engenders, but because it provides a milestone from which the evolution of our society since 1951 (or regression, indeed) can be measured - and accordingly evokes the legitimate question of whether the persecution of minorities for their nature has really abated, or whether in fact the oppression and demonisation suggested in the era of Finistère is still being perpetrated today.