In Douglas Stuart's superb third novel, John of John, a young man seeks to reconcile his sexuality and artistic goals with his family's expectations and his devout upbringing.
Twenty-two-year-old John-Calum Macleod goes by "Cal" to distinguish himself from John, his overbearing, violent father. Cal is a penniless Edinburgh art school graduate when his father calls him to their Isle of Harris croft in the '90s. Cal's maternal grandmother, Ella, has lived with them since Cal's mother left when he was nine. Now Ella shows signs of heart failure. John expects Cal's help with the sheep and weaving Harris tweed. It means an end to Cal's hedonistic lifestyle of alcohol, drugs, and sex with men; and it means a return to secrecy.
John is a pillar of the tiny local church, but Cal's faith wavers. Meanwhile, the population is decreasing and traditional professions are waning. Key community members include Innes MacInnes, John's best friend; and Cal's closest friends, brother-and-sister pair Doll and Isla Macdonald. Isla is assumed to be intended for Cal, but he's hoping to resume his friends-with-benefits situation with Doll. The Macdonalds can't make a living from fishing anymore and collect unemployment; mostly, Doll drinks himself into oblivion.
Stuart (Shuggie Bain; Young Mungo) builds an absorbing, deliciously melodramatic story around the contrast between modernity and the old ways. Cal is more like his father than he realizes. Stuart's every observation is profound; the simplest phrase is memorable for its beauty. Intriguing in its particularities but timeless in wisdom, John of John offers hope that relinquishing shame creates freedom to be true to oneself. It's irresistible and an instant classic. --Rebecca Foster, freelance reviewer, proofreader, and blogger at Bookish Beck