"I couldn’t have loved this book more. It took my heart on a journey, restored it, made it beat faster, broke it, and repaired it. In short, I fell in love. Read it."
“A triumph. A primer for all ages.”
“Raymond Wallace goes to New York and like thousands before, discovers and re-invents himself. But this is 1963, a time when every gay man has to have “something of the spy about him”. A sensual, moving story of masks and identities, across two continents and four decades. Sam Kenyon has the power to bring you up short with writing that captures all the contradiction of love and loneliness in a big city. I am not Raymond Wallace is a strikingly confident debut novel; not just good considering, but good absolutely.”
“I bloody loved it. A poignant and evocative reminder of how recently our love was impossible, of the lives that were lost in hiding, as well as the unsung heroes who paved the way for our freedoms today.
It’s also a beautifully told love story, deserving of a wide readership, not least because we all need more happily enough ever afters.”
"Taking as his starting-point a real-life moment of queer history from 1960s New York, Sam Kenyon spins a marvellously stylish and often unexpected story, bringing things to a final boil in one of the most romantic backstreets of contemporary Paris. His denouement is as tough as it is touching - and this is quite some debut for a very first novel.”
“In this exquisite novel about the breaking of a human heart, a sad young man carries a torch for his first love. It’s pre-Stonewall 1963. Men coming out come undone. Laws prevent giving consent to their own bodies. This daring love song of an anxious Prufrock wandering half-deserted streets embraces two generations of fathers, sons, and lovers yearning to find chosen family against all odds. A joyous literary triumph that moved me to tears. Shelve next to Michael Cunningham’s Pulitzer winner, The Hours.”
© 2020 by Sam Kenyon