at the edge of the universe, by Shaun David Hutchinson

[Ulysses]

At the Edge of the Universe
By Shaun David Hutchinson
Published by Simon Pulse, 2017
Five stars

What a remarkable book. I am a longtime fan of YA/LGBT books, and thus I am also fully aware of the tropes, the recurring similarities that are part of their very nature. I tend to be indulgent of all that sameness, and focus mainly on the author’s writing and his/her character development.

What struck me most, as I read through this substantial novel during a long series of flights across the United States, was that this has the classic YA/LGBT set-up but is in fact something a great deal more complex and thoughtful than a typical book of this genre. What at first seems to be a teen romance with a sci-fi overlay gradually reveals itself to be an existential exploration of what it is to be a teenager; and not just a gay teenager. It is a book that will make adult readers stop and think and relive the pain of their own teen years in interesting ways.

Oswald Pinkerton’s boyfriend, Tommy Ross, has disappeared. What’s worse, nobody, including Tommy’s parents, seems to remember that he existed at all. To make matters stranger, Ozzie has discovered that the universe is shrinking—fast.

What does all this mean? Well, the key is to look past the intense, witty character of Oswald Pinkerton, and to pay attention to the cast of characters around him: his older brother Warren, his parents, his best friends—the gender fluid Lua and the adopted Asian genius Dustin. There’s even the standard YA jock bully Trent and the emo loner Calvin. And, of course, the vanished boyfriend, Tommy, who is mixed-race, as well as his mother. These folks are not just window dressing to bolster the spotlight on Ozzie. As it turns out, these characters are essential to the overall impact of Hutchinson’s story, although that didn’t completely dawn on me until quite close to the end.

Hutchinson weaves his tale of teen drama and (apparent) paranoia so deftly, that he deflects your attention from the real point, slowing turning up the anxiety and emotion, until a startling (yet, in retrospect, somehow obvious) reveal shatters the arc of the plot while simultaneously tying it all together.

It is poetic, and quietly terrifying. I found myself on the verge of tears almost constantly in the last part of the book, as the first real glimmers of understanding hit me. Hutchinson has written a story that seems to be about one very interesting gay teenager, but really turns out to be about each of us, in one way or another.