The Lost Language of Cranes: A Novel by David Leavitt

Author:David Leavitt
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 1582345732
Publisher: Bloomsbury USA
Published: 1986-01-02T05:00:00+00:00

The night before, Philip had conceived, in advance, a vision of this evening at Derek and Geoffrey's. In this vision of the dinner, the party engaged in dialogue so graceful it seemed to have been choreographed or scripted; food appeared in silver dishes, and was eaten delicately; and afterwards—Derek and Geoffrey having shown Philip their world, and Philip having drunk his fill of it—Philip showed them his world, took them out to a bar, or dancing. At first, of course, they were resistant to the glittering splendors of New York nightlife; but soon enough they lost then inhibitions and had a wonderful time, and were grateful to him.

Now they sat in Derek Moulthrop's living room, drinking coffee, and John Malcolmson, whom Philip had not counted 0n, explained why in his opinion Philip's was a generation of greedy cowards, without principle, and why, for him, the world had practically ended in 1977. And Philip, in response, recounted how, coming back, the gay alumni at his college were moved to tears by the sight of a thousand pink balloons released into the sky, and all the eager-eyed young people cheering loudly in pink triangle T-shirts. "Balloons," John Malcolmson said, sinking resignedly into the velvet couch, "what are balloons? I'm talking about revolution—real revolution. We gave you the chance to take over, and look what you did instead—just slid right inside" the status quo."

That was Philip's opportunity. "I don't think that's entirely fair, John," he said. "Because in certain ways, things have changed—for the better. For instance, there's a bar in the East "Village, called Boy Bar, that Eliot and I like a lot, and I think if you went there it would change your mind. It's a friendly place, very social, a place where people go who really are comfortable with being gay, and know it's a lot more than a matter of who you sleep with. In fact—well, I'd like to take you there, to show you gay men my age who are actually very decent and principled, and who I think you'd approve of."

"A bar!" John said. "Do you know how long it's been since I've been to a bar?" He laughed, and leaned closer to Philip. "In my day, we had bars compared to which—but never mind." He took another gulp from his coffee mug. "For three years I've been completely celibate, not even a kiss," he said, "and so far—God willing—no symptoms. But the other day, I was out for dinner with my friend Jake, and I ran out of water, and when he offered me some of his, I said, 'Jake, you think after three years of celibacy I'm going to risk getting AIDS from a water glass?' Me, I said that. Me." He looked away.

"Well, John," Philip said, "it seems to me the time has come for you to take a look at the world. Right, Eliot?"

Eliot, standing at the other side of the room, was suspiciously attentive. "Boy Bar?" he said. "Philip, I really don't think—"

"And maybe Derek and Geoffrey as well?"

Hearing his name, Derek turned warily.

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