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All for the first time, in the days when acts had no consequences and nothing was irrevocable, and love was simple and even pain had the dignity of enduring forever. It was unimaginable that time could do anything to diminish it.

But it was only love which could accomplish the miracle of making a life bearable � only love, and love itself mostly failed.

This is not a love story.

It was fitting that I read Another Country while camped out under the air conditioner or sweltering in the park or seeking solace by the ocean. The characters, too, were always seeking refuge, always trying to find some relief as they drank cheap whiskey, their skin stuck to the furniture, their foreheads damp, their worlds colliding and falling. The characters are tangled up with each other, muddled, two-faced, broken, angry, and pitiful. Baldwin created such an intense and suffocating piece. I needed a shower after each read. I needed a drink.

Baldwin, who fled to a more liberated France while writing this book, explores another side of his home country and hometown. It’s deep summer in NYC in the 50s. There’s jazz, filth, liquor, art. The city � the country � is experiencing an undercurrent of racial tension. But not you. You’re so cool and forward thinking, right? Your circle of friends includes whites and blacks, see?

But what if you’re struggling with your sexuality as well as your race? And what if you add class distinction to the list? And denial, guilt, fear? What if there’s infidelity, death, domestic violence?

What if everybody is so damn lonely they turn to each other? Turn on each other?

What if there was no such thing as “gay� or “straight?�

What if you think you’re just so free and so bohemian in your middle-class apartment with your two kids and your husband’s fat paycheck and then it all comes crashing down?

What if you never realize who you’re in love with until it’s too late?

This book got under my skin. It penetrated my moods. It stifled me. It’s so bogged down in sorrow and anger and it never lets up for a moment. Never releases its noose-like grip on you. And I loved every uncomfortable and unbearable moment of it.

Best book I've read all year.