Love Notes to Men Who Don't Read

by North Morgan

Between London and Los Angeles, the gym and the gay scene, Instagram and Grindr, what it means to be a gay man has never been so bisected. North Morgan's third novel moves beyond the confines of fiction to examine how homosexuality's acceptance into society has created a new breed of demons for a generation of men born as outsiders yet living at the forefront of popular culture. Heartbreaking but never far from humour, Love Notes to Men Who Don't Read confirms Morgan's place as the leading interpreter of gay culture on either side of the Atlantic.

Genres: Contemporary, Queer

240 pages, Paperback

Published November 1, 2016

Reviews

[Chase]

North Morgan's (2016) novel Love Notes to Men Who Don't Read provides a not-so-elaborate, but entirely parodic, examination of affluent, white gay-male life in the metropoles of the Western world. Seeking a tongue-in-cheek response, Morgan begs the reader(s) to open their eyes to the contemptuous nature of those part-time employed, luxury-leaning, circuit-party bound gym bunnies who seem to occupy the spotlight of the gay imaginary. He goes as far as to suggest that the narrator - a laughable and unlikeable hedonist with a penchant for racist, misogynist and xenophobic remarks that debase more than 95% of Western society/ies and, indeed, glorify the Neo-Nazis vision of the ascending Aryan races - might embody the celebrity aspirations of white gay men in the 2010s.

As one reviewer writes, "This book is pessimism branded as brave honesty, but I wonder to what end." Indeed, to what end does this pacification of gay life serve? To characterise gay life as such - to reprimand the vulgarities of consumerist image(s), which are not specific to gay life, but rather endemic to consumers who choose to participate in image cultures that enable the largely uncritical (and thus unconfronted) discourses about what qualifies as "petty," "superficial" or "vain" - is to solve nothing and provide no values for growth, emotional and mental support or ideations of healthy futures. In other words, by blowing open the box on the gay elite (which has elsewhere been undertaken with fewer spelling and grammatical errors and greater nuance), Morgan attempts to deepen a conversation about the central ideologies, objects and values of "gay life," not unlike Alan Downs's (2005) seductive The Velvet Rage or Matthew Todd's (2012) "revolutionary clarion" Straight Jacket. We are left with a stark portrait, without hope, a wasteland of the gay male body; to ascertain from the broken pieces with which the narrator ends the limited capacities to imagine that gay life, far from a perpetual cycle of drugs, sex, boredom and social media obsession, might also make room for critical awareness of non-consumer life. In short, the novel ends before it begins. It leaves no room for a future, and because of this, the book loses its critique and its impulse to grow sideways into other ways of living.

[Mason Neil · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book is pessimism branded as brave honesty, but I wonder to what end. It was repetitive and a bit lazy, and the typos killed me. I don't regret reading it, but certainly finished it feeling uninspired.

[Ryan · Rating 4 out of 5]

I stayed up late last night to finish this book, though I'm still not entirely sure where I stand with it. I've followed Morgan on Instagram for almost a year now and I can't decide if pulling back the curtain to gain some insight into the Gods of Instagram world is one that is healthy or it just makes my disdain for these men grow.

This narrative is odd as it acts as a Bat signal projected directly into the ground or a lighthouse marooned in the middle of a desert' it's a whisper for help in a crowded, drug saturated, bass filled WeHo gay club. Yes, this is fiction, but the parallels to Morgan's Instagram account and the encounters within the novel are straighter than the bros Konrad Platt/North Morgan lust after. The question is, Mr. Morgan, why the constant self-destructive behavior followed by the incessant bitter criticism of the lifestyle that you find yourself in over and over again?

If your goal is sympathy - which I don't think it is - then I can't help you there. You hit the genetic lottery, as have most of your Instagram chums along with the rotating door of men in your novel, and yet you burden yourself with a steady supply of bitter self-loathing. Hm. I suspect you're just a masochist. You are, after all, the one that decided to move from London to West Hollywood and then take sojourns to Miami and wherever else the circuit parties are calling. Is the self-destruct button powered by protein shakes and bench presses?

I'm not going to rate this book because I found it both compelling and exhausting at the same time. Your insight to the Gods of Instagram increases my desire to punch you all in the face as you've done little to alleviate the notion that most of you are vapid, narcissistic speed bumps, but you've gained points with the snark factor and the fact that you are somewhat self-aware. You really fucking irritate me though, because I do intend to read your two previous novels and your upcoming one. I guess I am just as self-destructive. Asshole.

[Liam Ostermann · Rating 1 out of 5]

Didn't change any meanings but slightly expanded and corrected bits of this review - February 2024.

I'll be brief because this books doesn't deserve much - it is crap but worse it is crap with an attitude. For some reason the author imagines he has something important to say, well he doesn't. I don't know why Morgan is described as 'a leading interpreter of gay culture on both sides of the Atlantic' I can't imagine any but the most vapid of personalities looking to him to interpret their lives. This book is a piece of junk. Don't waste time on it - there are thousands of great books out there, there are thousands of interesting and sexy gay men out there, find them, talk to them, have sex with them. If you are obsessed with the sort of gym bunnies the author imagines are the only worthy objects of lust, and you aren't narcissistic enough to devote your life to creating a perfect body, then don't try and date one, buy one for an hour of energetic but probably disappointing sex. Gym bunnies such as the author obsesses over have only one asset, their bodies, and as it is one that requires most of their time to create and maintain so they have little time for conventional work or pursuits or relationships. I don't deny their beauty, lots of things are beautiful, but things don't make satisfactory conversation let alone companionship.

Besides who makes an existential crisis out of a failure for the men you fancy to fancy you? Get over yourself! That isn't a specifically Gay problem, the world is full of the less then beautiful, or young, or toned or clear skinned, or bright eyed and bushy tailed, that is the vast majority of us. If you are going to spend hours molding your body into some ideal of perfection you are going to miss out on a lot - certainly great food, drink and drugs, probably a lot of fun parties and clubs and also a variety of sexual experiences because if you are building yourself into some perfect idol it must be so you can find someone worthy of you. Well its amazing how good sex can be with the less then perfect - it can be fun.

I've gone on too long and haven't even mentioned the books unpleasantly fascist overtones. Just ignore.

[K.G. Delmar · Rating 2 out of 5]

Gotta say I'm a little baffled. As far as I can tell, this book is identical to Morgan's 2018 release, "Into?" And I'm not being hyperbolic, it's apparently the same book with a different title and cover design. I'm assuming this is some kind of different release for a different international market type of thing, though I could be wrong. I will say that that's the version of this that I read, so take this review with a grain of salt.

But that's not an objective issue. This book just felt kinda tedious to me. I don't want to assume that most of the people lauding this are straight people who are entranced by this enthnography of a cruising, good-looking twunk, but that's the vibe I got either way.

Here's the gist. The book starts with an inciting event, Konrad's boyfriend breaking up with him to date another guy, and Konrad leaving for America to escape the humiliation. Okay, good so far. But then the rest of the book can be boiled down to this: Konrad meets some generic hot masc. They bone. Konrad is extremely horny and does some kind of drug. He goes to the gym.

I'm not being hyperbolic. The whole book is just Konrad going to parties, cruising, chatting on Grindr, working out and being levels of horny that should probably not be legal.

I wouldn't call this book bad per se. If you're outside the community or simply want a brief character study about a vapid WeHo gay guy, go for it. Morgan's not a bad writer. I just found the whole thing really tedious as someone who knows guys like this and interacts with them and already has their type read. I'm just not interested in the repetitive life of a financially comfortable masc4masc.

A lot of the scenes were just exhausting. Towards the end, Konrad spends paragraphs just watching porn, doing some other stuff, then watching more porn and jacking off. I'm tempted to think that Konrad had a terrible accident that relocated his cerebellum to his wiener.

I'm not sure what to say about this one. When I see glowing reviews, I can't help but wonder if we read the same book. It's not BAD. It's just extremely repetitive. I wouldn't be surprised if it was Morgan's intention to dictate the idea that these men lead vapid, repetitive lives, but I feel like it needed more actual events to indicate the routine is indeed meant to be monotonous rather than just hashing it out page after page.

[Nate C-K · Rating 2 out of 5]

Updated review: just read Less Than Zero and can now see this novel for the irritating rip-off that it is.

As a gay person who doesn't like most gay people, this book worked for me. I have always avoided the 'scene' and have heard many horror stories of people and situations just like those in the book. The self-interested, employed-by-daddy, millenial, social media whore, could be a person of any gender or sexuality, so this book isn't just for the gays.

I won't comment on the 'bro' tropes as any reader will find themselves grinding their teeth without my opinions added. The weird last minute explicit racism doesn't add anything, only makes me hate the narrator more. Readers should have already picked up on his 'preferences' without needing to be told.

Overall, a fun and generally witty read, but the gay aspect is not half as interesting as the mid-30s semi-professional habitual drug user aspect. Mention of 'Chemsex' a vintage gem and made me feel like I was running a University sex-ed course all over again.

[Lucas Lanza · Rating 4 out of 5]

Um relato (talvez autobiográfico?) interessante sobre a comunidade gay nos dias atuais, de aplicativos de pegação, heteronormatividade, obsessão com a forma física e objetificação alheia. Tem momentos realmente interessantes, de fácil identificação - quem lê acaba reconhecendo um pouco de si mesmo ou de algum conhecido -, com ironia e sarcasmo muito bem afiados. O estilo do autor já foi comparado ao de (na real, acusado de imitar) Bret Easton Ellis por conta de um blog que manteve no fim dos anos 2000, mas "Into?" tem mérito próprio por assumir de cara que é um livro completamente gay e um bom livro neste aspecto.

[Simon P · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a great read. I'm so impressed with this novel by North Morgan on a number of counts.

1. I feel like if he hadn't ended the book himself after 250-odd pages, I would never stop reading it.

2. The main character is completely deplorable and yet you root for him. He is awful and yet so sympathetic.

3. I have no idea what a gay scene anywhere is like, but I did used to work out in the downtown YMCA in Minneapolis, and this is hugely familiar, i.e. I think this is probably a really accurate portrayal of the more hardcore gay scene. I don't know. Maybe I'm being foolish.

4. The main character does nothing of any value, and yet I want to read all about that.

I can tell a book that really captures my imagination because it makes me stop reading all other books concurrently, as I usually read two or three at the same time. I put all other books aside and read through this at a decent pace, really enjoying the nihilistic angle. I thought to myself, "This is like a Brett Easton Ellis book," and then I went online to see if anybody else thought that, as I worry that I always think everything is like a Brett Easton Ellis book, and luckily for me a reviewer on the Open Pen site thought so too, and I felt relieved. North manages to be perhaps more nihilistic, but it feels totally organic to the story, less mawkish and self-consciously nihilistic than Ellis, which when you think about it is a hell of an achievement.

I thought, should I give this book 4 or 5 stars? Because it is a great book. On review, definitely 5 stars. I think this writer is highly skilled. The book looks amazing too. That's two books out on the small Limehouse press that I've given 5 stars, out of two that I've read. Sincerely well done to everybody involved.

Highly recommended

[BookMoss · Rating 1 out of 5]

I was recommended this book by someone who I greatly admire, and read through the whole thing despite how painful it was to read. This read like a trashy romance novel without any plot. This was only marginally entertaining.
Like a vapid soap opera. There was not a page that didn’t say, “and then I went to the gym”
If I was trying to be nice I would say that this is a short glimpse of a life and that his experience was equally valid,
That people who are lonely and desperate can find solace in the solidarity of this experience.
But... it was so pathetic to be subjected to the main characters perspective. He didn’t learn anything or show any positive characteristics.

[Gregory · Rating 5 out of 5]

I really wanted to put this book down but just because I didn’t want it to end.

It’s witty and sad and hilarious and oh so close to home sometimes and vulnerable and lovely and horrid and everything you can want in a book.

10s across the board.

[Guy Beaudin · Rating 4 out of 5]

The style is unconventional but never short of compelling. A unique perspective on a slice of gay life in contemporary America. Provocative and engaging, but mostly funny and entertaining.

[Damian · Rating 2 out of 5]

It has some great bits here and there but in the end it's the same old story with the same kind of guy and the same cliches

[Brian McDermott · Rating 5 out of 5]

I love you. I hate you. But mostly I want to marry you. And I want you to leave me notes in the morning. Can we fuck?

[albin james · Rating 3 out of 5]

I feel sad and inept and disappointed and foolish....

[Sean Kennedy · Rating 4 out of 5]

So bleak.

[Todd · Rating 5 out of 5]

Not quite sure how to process a book that makes me feel less alone due to relating to the utter loneliness of Konrad. But that's probably the brilliance...

[Alex · Rating 3 out of 5]

It is hard to review this novel, perhaps because it is difficult not to pass judgment on Konrad and “the scene” while reviewing the text itself. They are inseparable, like the adult and the child in that scan of a sporty successful male at the start of Woodkid’s music video “The golden age”, which reveals a helpless little boy inside.

The typos are indeed intentional: it is a bro who is talking to us, after all. This is what bros do to show how unbothered they are. Towards the very end of the book there are fewer errors, as if to say that holistically manufacturing one’s image, however schematic, takes a lot of effort indeed.

The book makes for compulsive reading, just as the lifestyle it depicts is. Like a mockumentary, it leaves you feeling that there is nothing left to discover, Konrad’s insular universe is now fully dissected.

[Phillip · Rating 5 out of 5]

A brutal takedown and/or hilarious parody of contemporary gay gym and hookup culture.