Labor Day

"They were like the two Apollo astronauts who moved together along the surface of the moon, while their trusty companion stayed behind in the space capsule, monitoring the controls and making sure things were all right”

I just finished reading Labor Day by Joyce Maynard (the picture above is a film still of the movie based on the book). While it wasn’t the best written novel in the world, there were some scenes just too beautiful to not love.

How poignantly sex played a role in the development of the novel was so interesting. The narrator Henry is a twelve-year-old boy (no explanation necessary), but more importantly, his mother is a recluse who hasn’t been with someone in several years. Frank, the escaped convict whom they take into their home, is a starkly public person. Thus, just as Henry is beginning to feel sexual attraction, he consistently overhears his mother having sex with Frank in the next room, which is something of a sexual re-awakening for herself. Needless to say, when Henry finally has the opportunity for his own sexual exploration with a girl from his school, he is unable to perform an act which, for him, has taken on connotations of danger and secrecy.

What’s even more perfect (or rather, perfectly devastating) is that his refusal to have sex with her has catastrophic results for the rest of the novel. Without giving too much away, I’ll just say that I admire Maynard for being able to equate sex with trust, submission, desire, and love all at once.

On another note, the movie is from one of my favorite directors, Jason Reitman, and everyone should go see it.