A young gay Black man escapes from grief into the hedonism of upper-echelon New York, in a lyrical tale of redemption
L
ives can turn on one mistake. Smith’s comes when he is caught in the corner of a restaurant in the Hamptons on the last night of summer, snorting cocaine from a key. He walks calmly out with the two khaki-clad police officers, poses for a mugshot and posts his $500 bail.
Smith is Black, which won’t help, but he comes from wealth, which will. So he calls his sister, who calls his father in Atlanta, who tells his mother, who collapses on the floor in shock then starts calling lawyers. Smith prepares for his court date with a series of AA meetings and counselling sessions that will make it clear that this promising young man is on the road to redemption.
The contrite lines Smith rehearses have some truth, and his legal troubles are not the only thing on his mind. He was a model student as a boy, living up to the pedigree of his family of Atlanta landlords, lawyers and professors. At university, new social worlds opened thanks to new friends Elle, the effervescent Black daughter of a successful soul singer, and Carolyn, an impulsive white art-world scion.
