daniellesalwaysreading's review against another edition
4.0
This was a hard story to read because it takes place in an asylum and the main characters had very little power to control their own futures. I did like it, but it wasn't quite the escapism that I am usually looking for in these types of books.
kaje_harper's review
4.0
Historical books in M/M carry an extra weight, because despite all the issues of inequality that we still deal with, things have been worse in the past. It was only in 1973 that the American Psychiatric Association removed homosexuality as a psychological disorder category. For much of history, being gay could not only get you harmed by those who disliked you, it could also get you incarcerated in a mental institution by those who loved you, and who felt they were doing the best thing for you. Given the quality and practices of asylums through much of history, this is tantamount to being handed over to be tortured for your blue eye color by your brown-eyed parents, in the loving hope that your eye color could be forcibly changed. Reading about those times is always painful, no matter what the story carries along with that pain.
That's what has happened to John Gilliam. After being found on his knees in front of another man by his father and his father's friends, John agreed to go into a mental institution, partly to appease his father's dismay, and partly in the vain hope that he can perhaps be cured of his unfortunate proclivities. But he has quickly realized three things - the "treatments" amount to torture and have no effect on his preferences; - it is one thing to agree to be committed, a far, far more difficult thing to get out again; -and the doctor who runs the asylum is not as disinterested and well-meaning as he seems, and has multiple reasons to keep his wealthier patients incarcerated.
John is close to despair at the powerlessness of his situation, but the impersonal kindness of an attendant gives him new hope. That hope becomes something else when the attendant, Tully, turns out to also be gay.
There were parts of this story that I really appreciated. The asylum setting was a looming evil, all the worse because it was reality for so many people, not just gay men but "hysterical" women and others who were committed in an age when that was often a one-way trip into a dark hole. If anything, the situation is downplayed here, enough to keep hope and some optimism alive in the story. Tully is a great character, as a somewhat simple, kindly man who has a desire to help the unfortunates in his care, and comes to see that simply following doctors' orders and doing his best may not let him do that. His joint disillusionment and growing awareness of his own potential is well done.
There is a real mismatch between John and Tully, in almost every aspect. They are different in size, experience, education, class, body type, family history, and resources. Sometimes opposites attract, but I really wished this book was a bit longer, in before the epilogue. I was not fully persuaded by this as a love match, and I think a bit more exposition in that gap of time could have gone some way to fixing that.
The plot device that got John out also felt a little contrived. I applaud the writers for avoiding melodrama. At the same time, I wasn't totally convinced by the way it all went down. So this story didn't keep me immersed and contented to the degree that some others by this writing team have done. Still worth a read, and the epilogue pulled it back firmly into 4-star territory for me.
I closed it thinking of all those who have suffered for being different, or considered inferior, in so many venues and under so many power structures. Historically and today, xenophobia and lack of compassion are two of humanity's besetting sins.
That's what has happened to John Gilliam. After being found on his knees in front of another man by his father and his father's friends, John agreed to go into a mental institution, partly to appease his father's dismay, and partly in the vain hope that he can perhaps be cured of his unfortunate proclivities. But he has quickly realized three things - the "treatments" amount to torture and have no effect on his preferences; - it is one thing to agree to be committed, a far, far more difficult thing to get out again; -and the doctor who runs the asylum is not as disinterested and well-meaning as he seems, and has multiple reasons to keep his wealthier patients incarcerated.
John is close to despair at the powerlessness of his situation, but the impersonal kindness of an attendant gives him new hope. That hope becomes something else when the attendant, Tully, turns out to also be gay.
There were parts of this story that I really appreciated. The asylum setting was a looming evil, all the worse because it was reality for so many people, not just gay men but "hysterical" women and others who were committed in an age when that was often a one-way trip into a dark hole. If anything, the situation is downplayed here, enough to keep hope and some optimism alive in the story. Tully is a great character, as a somewhat simple, kindly man who has a desire to help the unfortunates in his care, and comes to see that simply following doctors' orders and doing his best may not let him do that. His joint disillusionment and growing awareness of his own potential is well done.
There is a real mismatch between John and Tully, in almost every aspect. They are different in size, experience, education, class, body type, family history, and resources. Sometimes opposites attract, but I really wished this book was a bit longer, in before the epilogue.
Spoiler
In the asylum, their relationship felt like mostly a case of compassion and mutual desire, two men thrown together out of need, friendly but hardly a meeting of the minds. The imbalance was significant, on multiple levels. Once they were out, I would have liked to see them together more, learning to live around each other and to appreciate each other on a more equal footing. The epilogue occurs two years later, with much of the pending personal issues resolved off-page. Important decisions about how and where to live, what their public and private relationship will look like, are simply presented as a fait accompli. Their first penetrative sex also occurs off page, where the combination of their mutual inexperience, awareness of social taboos, and John's fears, would have made it emotionally interesting in seeing how that affected their power balance. I liked the epilogue, because it showed a believable resolution to some of the issues I had about their long-term viability as a couple, but I'd rather have actually seen some of that happen.The plot device that got John out also felt a little contrived. I applaud the writers for avoiding melodrama. At the same time, I wasn't totally convinced by the way it all went down. So this story didn't keep me immersed and contented to the degree that some others by this writing team have done. Still worth a read, and the epilogue pulled it back firmly into 4-star territory for me.
I closed it thinking of all those who have suffered for being different, or considered inferior, in so many venues and under so many power structures. Historically and today, xenophobia and lack of compassion are two of humanity's besetting sins.
adk42's review against another edition
3.0
This book was provided by the author in Exchange for an honest review.
3,5 stars.
I had a very hard time rating this book. First of all the blurp isn't really precise. The description is fine: John Gilliam locked up in an asylum for his 'perverted man-lust', Sam Tully is an attendant who is attracted to John. Despite the risk of exposure they start a relationship but soon discover that all is not as it seems in the asylum.
But the blurp is full of elements which I couldn't recognize in the book. John is a lot more independent and proactive that he seems like in the blurp and I'm not sure I ever heard anyone calling him 'the professor'. Sam is not completely dependent on keeping his job and I'm not sure I like the whole "innately intelligent"-thing.
The book is very well researched. The description of the asylums of the nineteenth century is uncomfortably accurate and I had to take a deep breath sometimes to get through the water treatments and ridculous notions that humans once had about mental health.
The main characters are well suited. Especially Tully really grew on me and he was a great example of someone trapped by an inadequate educational system. John Gilliam was a little more difficult to get close to but he and Sam were very sweet together. The love between them was a ray of sunlight in the dark day-to-day life of the asylum.
Even the sexual aspect was very accurate for a historical romance so there was no jumping into anal sex or kinky buggery. (Even using the word bunghole - despite me having a hard time not laughing at that).
Despite all this I still had a hard time finishing the book. Granted, there is a possibility that I was just in the wrong mood, but the book was also really slow. Not boring, but just... slow. A lot of it was that the book was in many ways sort of anticlimatic. Yes, John's life was at stake at one point but it still never seemed as dramatic as the blurp had promised.
Still, I would recommend this book. As a realistic and uncomfortable introduction to the asylum conditions of the 19th century and as an example of the insanity humans will put other people through because of what they believe is right.
3,5 stars.
I had a very hard time rating this book. First of all the blurp isn't really precise. The description is fine: John Gilliam locked up in an asylum for his 'perverted man-lust', Sam Tully is an attendant who is attracted to John. Despite the risk of exposure they start a relationship but soon discover that all is not as it seems in the asylum.
But the blurp is full of elements which I couldn't recognize in the book. John is a lot more independent and proactive that he seems like in the blurp and I'm not sure I ever heard anyone calling him 'the professor'. Sam is not completely dependent on keeping his job and I'm not sure I like the whole "innately intelligent"-thing.
The book is very well researched. The description of the asylums of the nineteenth century is uncomfortably accurate and I had to take a deep breath sometimes to get through the water treatments and ridculous notions that humans once had about mental health.
The main characters are well suited. Especially Tully really grew on me and he was a great example of someone trapped by an inadequate educational system. John Gilliam was a little more difficult to get close to but he and Sam were very sweet together. The love between them was a ray of sunlight in the dark day-to-day life of the asylum.
Even the sexual aspect was very accurate for a historical romance so there was no jumping into anal sex or kinky buggery. (Even using the word bunghole - despite me having a hard time not laughing at that).
Despite all this I still had a hard time finishing the book. Granted, there is a possibility that I was just in the wrong mood, but the book was also really slow. Not boring, but just... slow. A lot of it was that the book was in many ways sort of anticlimatic. Yes, John's life was at stake at one point but it still never seemed as dramatic as the blurp had promised.
Still, I would recommend this book. As a realistic and uncomfortable introduction to the asylum conditions of the 19th century and as an example of the insanity humans will put other people through because of what they believe is right.
iguana_mama's review against another edition
4.0
Is that man a vampire? Does that manic gleam in his eyes mean he is about to feed? The blurb didn’t indicate there were vampires in this story, so I promptly put the cover picture out of my mind. I do love the title, however, and was thrilled to get the opportunity to read this historical romance set in London in 1887.
John Gilliam is a learned professor. He is also homosexual and damned lucky “buggery” was no longer punishable by death. It was, however, still illegal. John was unfortunate to be caught with another man during a surprise visit by his father and a few friends and willingly submitted to treatment at a mental institution. Because John comes from a wealthy family, his living conditions are not nearly as bad as others. But he still had to endure isolation, humiliation and crude treatments such as hydrotherapy and twirling chairs which were of no help to mentally ill patients. During his incarceration, he meets Sam Tully, a kindly attendant who suffers from the same “perversion” that John does.
What is really scary is these crude and dangerous treatments lasted right up until the 1970’s.
http://www.davidmixner.com/2010/07/lgbt-history-the-decade-of-lobotomies-castration-and-institutions.html
I have some mixed feelings about this story. While I loved the slow burn of John’s and Sam’s relationship, their very different backgrounds, and the authentic historical details, I wish there were more vivid descriptions of the patients and their treatments. I am very interested in the history of mental health and wish that this story spent more time on the important subjects it touched on in a superficial way. Because of Tully, I never really felt that John was in any danger, and that eliminated a lot of tension from the story.
It was still a compelling and leisurely read, and I’m glad both men got their happy ending. While not a perfect story, I enjoyed it sufficiently and plan to try another by these authors.
*Book provided by author in exchange for an honest review.
John Gilliam is a learned professor. He is also homosexual and damned lucky “buggery” was no longer punishable by death. It was, however, still illegal. John was unfortunate to be caught with another man during a surprise visit by his father and a few friends and willingly submitted to treatment at a mental institution. Because John comes from a wealthy family, his living conditions are not nearly as bad as others. But he still had to endure isolation, humiliation and crude treatments such as hydrotherapy and twirling chairs which were of no help to mentally ill patients. During his incarceration, he meets Sam Tully, a kindly attendant who suffers from the same “perversion” that John does.
What is really scary is these crude and dangerous treatments lasted right up until the 1970’s.
http://www.davidmixner.com/2010/07/lgbt-history-the-decade-of-lobotomies-castration-and-institutions.html
I have some mixed feelings about this story. While I loved the slow burn of John’s and Sam’s relationship, their very different backgrounds, and the authentic historical details, I wish there were more vivid descriptions of the patients and their treatments. I am very interested in the history of mental health and wish that this story spent more time on the important subjects it touched on in a superficial way. Because of Tully, I never really felt that John was in any danger, and that eliminated a lot of tension from the story.
It was still a compelling and leisurely read, and I’m glad both men got their happy ending. While not a perfect story, I enjoyed it sufficiently and plan to try another by these authors.
*Book provided by author in exchange for an honest review.
kimberlyrose's review
5.0
4.25 stars, ebook, novella: 164 pages
Bonnie Dee and Summer Devon have a distinct style. Once you're familiar with it, you know exactly what you'll get each time with their historical mm books, and yet all their stories keep their individuality, their freshness. And they never write tragedies, thank you. As Susan Elizabeth Phillips says, "Life's too short for 'dead-baby books.'"
Here, with The Gentleman's Madness, the heroes each have their own inner struggles, told compellingly, believably, and with which I connected mentally and emotionally. I adored the contrast--and conflict--of their social positions, backgrounds, physicality, and especially their personalities, one all enthusiasm, emotion, energy and the other, steady, down-to-earth, care-taking.
The plot is suspenseful (will they be caught?! will their differences be too much?) and the sexual tension is snap and sizzle, building gradually and steadily. The doctor and blackmailing attendant are briefly but believably drawn; I could see them as real people, not placement types for story progression. Same with the father, although briefly drawn, he had the material of realness.
That's my only criticism: the brevity of everything. But, the way the surface was offered--those damn inner struggles that make a novel--I *knew* the berg beneath was there. Then again, that's part of the Devon-Dee package: not an in-depth, lengthy exploration of character and place, but a quick novel that is a delight for the mind and senses, that has me thinking and feeling, exploring on my own, after I'm done reading.
And, always, a HEA, that is refreshing, surprising and still believable--I clenched and nail-bit my way through wondering how our authors would get these two men out of their mess! Ah, sweet satisfaction.
Bonnie Dee and Summer Devon have a distinct style. Once you're familiar with it, you know exactly what you'll get each time with their historical mm books, and yet all their stories keep their individuality, their freshness. And they never write tragedies, thank you. As Susan Elizabeth Phillips says, "Life's too short for 'dead-baby books.'"
Here, with The Gentleman's Madness, the heroes each have their own inner struggles, told compellingly, believably, and with which I connected mentally and emotionally. I adored the contrast--and conflict--of their social positions, backgrounds, physicality, and especially their personalities, one all enthusiasm, emotion, energy and the other, steady, down-to-earth, care-taking.
The plot is suspenseful (will they be caught?! will their differences be too much?) and the sexual tension is snap and sizzle, building gradually and steadily. The doctor and blackmailing attendant are briefly but believably drawn; I could see them as real people, not placement types for story progression. Same with the father, although briefly drawn, he had the material of realness.
That's my only criticism: the brevity of everything. But, the way the surface was offered--those damn inner struggles that make a novel--I *knew* the berg beneath was there. Then again, that's part of the Devon-Dee package: not an in-depth, lengthy exploration of character and place, but a quick novel that is a delight for the mind and senses, that has me thinking and feeling, exploring on my own, after I'm done reading.
And, always, a HEA, that is refreshing, surprising and still believable--I clenched and nail-bit my way through wondering how our authors would get these two men out of their mess! Ah, sweet satisfaction.
georgiewhoissarahdrew's review
3.0
Overall, a sweet book, with an intriguing setting and plot, but let down by rather pedestrian writing and 2-D characters.
The best bits of this were the scenes that outraged me - from the historically accurate fact that homosexuals could be and were sent to asylums for "treatment", to the cruelties of the treatment itself, which encompassed physical and petty tortures. So the background here was realistic and vivid. And it's partly that which made the characters themselves seem... flat. Because this is a genre book (m/m HR), not a pyschological character study, the MCs reactions were too conventional for the set-up. Worth reading though.
The best bits of this were the scenes that outraged me - from the historically accurate fact that homosexuals could be and were sent to asylums for "treatment", to the cruelties of the treatment itself, which encompassed physical and petty tortures. So the background here was realistic and vivid. And it's partly that which made the characters themselves seem... flat. Because this is a genre book (m/m HR), not a pyschological character study, the MCs reactions were too conventional for the set-up. Worth reading though.
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