The Gin Closet is the debut novel of Leslie Jamison. I have a particular interest in ‘first novels’. I want to know, or at least try to discover through reading them, what it was about a a given ‘first’ book that grabbed a publisher’s attention and made it to market. Usually I can find good reasons in compelling stories. Sometimes, admittedly, I am left scratching my head and wondering how, HOW a story ever made it through the publishing process. Occasionally I am blown away by potent talent. Leslie Jamison is a potent talent.The Gin Closet is the strongest debut novel I have ever read; it has been with me daily since I finished reading the novel two weeks ago. I am left wondering what Jamison could possibly do next but, in the mean time, I am awed by her writing and have absorb her characters as though they were wayward, delicate children needing a place of safety and protection.
I share with you the publisher’s description for this novel:
In the beginning, there was Tilly: fabulous and free, outrageous and untamable, vulnerable and terrified. Was it the Sixties that did her wrong, or the drugs, or the men, or was it the middle-class upbringing she couldn’t abide? As a young woman, she flees home for the hollow neon underworld of Nevada, looking for pure souls and finding nothing but bad habits. She stays away for decades, working the streets and worse, eventually drinking herself to the brink of death in the middle of the desert. One day, after Tilly has spent nearly thirty years without a family, her niece shows up on the doorstep of her dusty trailer.
Stella has been leading her own life of empty promise in New York City. She makes her living booking Botox appointments and national-media appearances for a famous (and famously neurotic) “inspirational” writer by day; she complains about her job at warehouse parties in remote boroughs by night; she waits for her married lover to make time in his schedule to screw her over, softly; and she takes care of her ailing grandmother in Connecticut. Before Stella’s grandmother dies, she tells Stella the truth about Tilly, her runaway daughter, and Stella decides to give up the vast and penetrating loneliness of the city to find this lost woman the family had never mentioned.
The Gin Closet unravels the strange and powerful intimacy that forms between Tilly and Stella as they move to San Francisco to make a home with Abe, Tilly’s overworked and elusive son. Shifting between the perspectives of both women, the narrative documents the construction of a fragile triangle that eventually breaks under its own weight.
With an uncanny ear for dialogue and a witty, unflinching candor about sex, love, and power, Leslie Jamison reminds us that no matter how unexpected its turns are, this life we’re given is all we have: the cruelties that unhinge us, the beauties that clarify us, the addictions that deform us, those fleeting possibilities of grace that fade as quickly as they come. In the words of writer Charles D’Ambrosio, this extraordinary novel teaches us that “history has its way, the body has its way, and the rebellions we believe in leave behind a bleak wisdom, if we’re lucky — and defeat, if we’re not.” The Gin Closet marks the debut of a stunning new talent in fiction.
A friend inquired as to whether the book was good – it is; very, very good – but I feel as though there are not sufficient words to express, in a review, my thoughts about the story or the writer. I need to invent new words to do this novel justice. The book is urgent and raw, and without requesting the readers sympathy, it demands of the reader to be a sentient human being. That Jamison, in this, her first novel (I can’t emphasize this enough apparently), can create and sustain these senses – of urgency, of compassion, of exposed nerves – is to be commended. Her writing elevates the story from being ‘another story about a disjointed and struggling family’ to being something wholly new. Jamison has given readers a work that is heart-achingly beautiful.