DEEP HOUSE

Portrait of a gay marriage.

In his award-winning previous book, Gay Bar: Why We Went Out (2021), the American-born author reflected on the watering holes where he and his English partner found sex and community (and sometimes banality) in the days before hookup apps like Grindr. His new book, a similar blend of memoir and sociopolitical history, widens the lens to examine how political debates over same-sex marriage affected the tenuous fate of this transnational couple, who ultimately tied the knot when it became legal to do so in the U.K. The author recounts their meeting in a London nightclub in 1996; that same week, he notes, the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) was introduced in the U.S. House of Representatives, defining marriage as the union of one man and one woman. “It wasn’t against the law for us to fall in love,” he writes. “But if we were to forge a commitment, there didn’t seem to be any place to take it.” For the next decade, the couple existed in limbo, first apart on different continents, then together in San Francisco. The author’s partner would eventually overstay his visa, ushering in another form of legal insecurity. “Our relationship, built on apartness—longing—had entered its phase of subterfuge—pretending,” Lin writes. As their personal story unfolds in a series of rented Bay Area apartments, the author serves up a potted history of the gay marriage debate in the ’90s and early 2000s alongside passages on matelotage, a contractual arrangement between two pirates in the 17th and 18th centuries; Clive Michael Boutilier, the gay Canadian deemed a “psychopathic personality” and denied U.S. citizenship in 1965; and the ill-starred relationship of artist Felix Gonzales-Torres and his Canadian lover, Ross Laycock, in the ’80s and ’90s. Lin’s prose is as striking as ever—the lyric descriptions of gay sex recall Edmund White at his randiest—but the accounts of D.C. politics and Supreme Court cases feel dutiful rather than illuminating.

A rangy and readable book, both personal and political, that doesn’t quite coalesce.