A review by pnwbibliophile
Tin Man by Sarah Winman

4.75

“There's something about first love, isn't there? she said. It's untouchable to those who played no part in it. But it's the measure of all that follows.”

I so needed this book right now and it landed in my lap rather serendipitously, though I won’t bore you with that story. I’m in a rut, struggling to get into books (the world is burning in my defense). This ticked off the boxes of what I was seeking: queer, literary, yearning love, and unique. Take an amalgam of Maurice’s style and the yearning loss of CMBYN, then intermix Sarah Winman’s unique style and you get this short novel that doesn’t waste a single word or page. We follow Ellis and Michael who meet as boys in the town of Oxford. Their friendship blooms to something more. Michael leaves town, laying the melancholic foundations of a house that could have been had their love been allowed to progress. This novel follows both boys as they recount their time together and reflections when they are apart that intimately capture the way first loves never leave us. 

The utilization of the mother’s painting to highlight both boys’ memories of her and each other was masterful. Apparently I’m a sucker for novels about love tied to paintings and/or photographs (I blame Donna Tartt). They capture human sentimentality and vulnerability so perfectly. I also love Van Gogh so I was truthfully doomed to love this. The lyrical, lush, pastoral, nostalgic prose was supported by a narrative that felt both concrete and ephemeral, vignettes of Ellis and Michael’s memories associated with their time together and apart. 

The blurb was rather sparse on detail, which I actually appreciated. I didn’t anticipate something happening and am happy it wasn’t given away in the synopsis as 9/10 books do. This is best just dived into and enjoyed without reading in depth reviews that give away plot. Note that dialogue is not in quotes. Only mentioned as it may bother others if not me. The only thing I can critique is it minorly drags in the second half but that wasn’t too noticeable. 

Quotes I enjoyed:

“The simple belief that men and boys were capable of beautiful things.”

“…How the numbness in my fingertips travelled to my heart and I never even knew it. I had crushes, I had lovers, I had orgasms. My trilogy of desire, I liked to call it, but I'd no great love after him, not really. Love and sex became separated by a wide river and one the ferryman refused to cross.”

“When the breeze ripples, petals of pink and white and fuchsia fall on me and I imagine myself a garlanded pyre alight under the firey sun.”