Ash is bipolar (type 1 … it almost always is, isn’t it, in books?*), a gay man whose dreams turned to issues. He’s also posh. Darian (the luuurve interest) is sprayed orange, from, yes you guessed it, Essex. He’s a model (you know what I mean and he does his li…er, oops) and all of his dialogue is rendered with all due rhotacism** and so on. Awight? It would have been fun if the author had got phonetic with the posh accent too. Bipolar and British class issues put chips on our heroes’ shoulders and provide the dramatic conflict, such as it is.
Don’t drink, don’t smoke, don’t forget to take your medication, don’t break your routine. Nobody had ever explicitly said, “Don’t have casual sex with strange men in unfamiliar cities,” but it was probably covered in the “Don’t have any fun ever” clause.
The book is a well written, socially responsible and politically correct (without being overt or irritating), fluffy, fast and feelgood bit of heavy breathing and romance. (Avoid it if your a ‘phobe, there’s a lot of sex.) This blog being about as bipolar as they get (and queer with it), I shall now proceed to offer you some delightful and maybe even moving spoiler-free quotes. They’re in sequence, but all occurred relatively far apart.
Once upon a time, I too dreamed different dreams. My horizon was bolder and grander and more beautiful than the threshold of my own fucking flat. And now I lived in a world so narrow and so colourless that getting out of bed in the morning was a victory. That not actively wanting to die was happiness.
“I’m a terrible risk to take with your happiness.”
Heeeeeerere’s Darian! The other quotes are all Ash.
“Also, right, if you fink abaht it, it’s stupid to ’ave medication what’s supposed to be for stopping people being depressed what also makes ’em fat. Cos that’d be well depressing.”
I scraped out a mirthless laugh. “I don’t know where he is and this isn’t a fucking romcom. I’m not going to catch up with him just as he’s getting onto a plane, kiss him in front of a crowd of applauding strangers, and live happily ever after. Besides, what am I going to say to him? I’m just a manic depressive standing in front of a moron, asking him to love me?”
Um. There’s a cottage pie recipe in the appendices. It’ll make (some) sense when you read it.
*you get more sensationalist bang for your proverbial buck out of type 1 than 2, simply because extreme mania and psychosis happen in bipolar 1 on the whole. Depression isn’t fashionable in the media this year. *rolls eyes at society*
**rhotacism is my new word for today.