My Pinup

In this brilliant two-part memoir, the Pulitzer Prizewinning writer Hilton Als distills into one cocktail the deep and potent complexities of love and of loss, of Prince and of power, of desire and of race. Its delicious and its got the kick of a mule, especially as Als swirls into his mix the downtown queer nightclub scene, the AIDS crisis, Princes ass in his tight little pants, an ill-fated peach pie, Dorothy Parker, and his desire for true love. Always surprising and stealthilyeven painfullymoving, Als plumbs longing: I inched closer to him as he danced to you, Prince. But already he was you, Prince, in my mind. He had the same coloring, and the same loneliness I wanted to fill with my admiration. I couldnt love him enough. We were colored boys together. There is not enough of that in the world, Princebut you know that. Still, when other people see that kind of fraternity they want to kill it. But we were so committed to each other, we never could work out what that violence meant. There was so much love between us. Why didnt anyone want us to share it?