Another Country

My first Baldwin. This whole work contains this deep melancholy, infused into nearly every sentence. A deeply human hurt propels the narrative forward, and it gets uglier, and it hurts you in turn because at some point, you start to remember the pains you've accumulated, forgotten or not, and Baldwin pulls them out of you and forces you to confront them in stark black and white. I'm unsure if it was akin to therapy or confession, but there is a piece of the human soul in this book, and I found myself deeply moved by it.

Shoutout to Vivaldo, maybe the most resonant character I've ever read.