This touching, heartfelt debut by Tim Murphy was a real work of love, the reader can easily grasp. It covers decades in the lives of a handful of people who gravitate in and around Manhattan's East Village building of the Christodora, starting in the 1980s. The characters in this book cover a diverse social spectrum and find their lives intermingled with each other in unexpected ways. Quite a lot changes over time - relationships evolve, gentrification finds the area, rampant drug use (by some) and focus on AIDS activism make way for a gentler, calmer future and fresh perspectives. This book talks freely of the struggles in the gay and lesbian community as they fight for effective AIDS treatment during a difficult period in our history. There are some honest and raw moments that will break your heart. In parallel, it's also a real eye opener on the perils of drug use and how it destroys lives. Again, more heartbreaking anguish but try to see it through. I found the trajectory of character development for some very painful to endure but it was worth the struggle. The ragged loose threads all seem to be tied up neatly at the end and provided a very satisfying conclusion. This emotional book covered a lot of ground in a skillful way. The navigation of life's ups and downs is realistic and truthful. Nothing is as simple, or as dark, as it seems. There is always hope. Lots of great life lessons to be had here in the journey that is the Christodora.

During the late 1920's the 'Christodora', a building situated in Manhattan's East Village was where new immigrants and the poorer members of the community would often find themselves housed. In the 1980's the building was redeveloped and made into luxury apartments where only the affluent could then afford to reside. With the beginnings of gentrification of the area the occupants of these luxurious apartments understandably caused resentment from the less affluent and homeless now unable to afford such accommodation where they'd once had little choice but to reside. Inevitably as tensions grew the infamous riots of New York ensued. Tim Murphy's masterpiece uses the 'Christodora' as its focal point in the novel and is where its pivotal characters, sculptor Jared Traum and his artist wife Milly, and others live. We also follow a group of interconnected friends, artists, and gay activists over a span of four decades, ranging from the 1980's to 2020. Being British, I couldn't say that I related much to the drug or gay scene of New York. I did however have gay friends, and some friends who took drugs, but I didn't personally know anyone with HIV. What I do remember is the paranoia drummed up by the news media and our 'then' Government about the 'AIDS' plague, that a promiscuous gay community had brought upon themselves, and that it was now a threat to all of us if we were bisexual or had more than one sexual partner. It had also become a requirement for more than one male applying for a joint mortgage and for gay men applying for health insurance, to take an HIV test before consideration. A positive result meant refusal of application, and a blemish on medical files, forever! Eventually we were better informed about this horrific, unprejudiced virus which would claim people from all walks of life, gender and sexual orientation. 'Christodora' educated me in many ways about the HIV plight of the 1980's and of the role 'gay activists' and scientists in America played in the fight for medical research, better health care, and legal rights for both gay men and lesbian women. It is because of these dedicated brave individuals that AIDS no longer needs to lead to a premature death or that its sufferers be subjected to discrimination, prejudice and fear. Tim Murphy writes with real depth and clarity about his characters that it's hard to believe they aren't living and breathing people. One character's narrative had such a powerful impact on me that I felt breathless and giddy reading as she ploughed from one scene to another with a volatile energy gathering in pace and momentum, and with her increasing irrational, embarrassing and inappropriate behaviour. I felt 'manic', my head was in turmoil. Ava and the symptoms of her bi-polar disorder are so incredibly well written, I felt as if I was in the same headspace...as uncomfortable as this was it was brilliantly done! Overlong at times, and confusing with time shifts leaping back and forth as characters gave their points of view, it was definitely worth the perseverance as I was rewarded with the 'payoff' as gradually everything made sense and the segments slowly slotted into place. Hugely encyclopaedic in scope 'Christodora' is also a raw emotive 'coming of age' tale of sorts. I found every character compelling from the aforementioned Ava, struggling with her manic episodes, to one of the most intriguing but equally frustrating, and at times intensely unlikeable characters in the book, Hugo Villanueva. 'Christodora' is intelligently, and compassionately written with complex, flawed individuals, and evokes a real sense of an era full of fun, passion, pace and energy, with a vibe of the creative arts, and excitement of the music industry; then it turns on itself like a rabid dog and relentlessly drives us down into an abyss with descriptions of the devastating catastrophic effects of drug abuse (chiefly meth addiction), and the fear, pain and despair of losing, or leaving behind, friends and loved ones because of an unknown disease. Utterly compelling and educational in respect of the relationships and interrelationships of the characters before, during, and after the emergence of a devastating disease that cut dead the excitement and euphoria of the gay, drug and disco days of the 80's...Highly recommended.

A sweeping, multi-generational American epic set against the backdrop of the 'the plague', spanning years into the future; meditating on art and existence; graphically exploring sex and drugs and protests; unflinchingly, honestly, humanely introducing us to a cast of characters impossible to forget without chills and laughter and tears - the book looked to have it all, looked set to fill the gaping hole left by 'A Little Life', everything was in place, I was ready, waiting, maybe even overeager, but hey, who cares when the book is that good (and it is that good, they said), right? No. Wrong. Or... only partly wrong. This review, much like this book, is proving to be somewhat problematic. For narrative drive alone this book is five stars. Indeed, for characterisation it is a very high four. For landscape and setting and ambition and motif and scope I couldn't award less than the above either. What then, is the problem? The writing. I used to think I could forgive bad writing if the narrative was immersive enough. But. Unfortunately, this book has changed all that. My oh my how it has changed all that. I wanted to like it. Nay. I wanted to love it. Just. It wouldn't quite let me. Lazy descriptions and narrative progression, wasted words and unrealistic dialogue, sentences for sentences sake and rhythm for no reason other than filler. I was disappointed, but maybe, as I so often am, I am wrong. Who knows, who can say? For me, the whole thing felt laboured and the problem I am having is that I still think of the characters and their lives and can luridly picture their progression and plight. They feel real to me. I want to experience them again. Only, I can't let myself, because the frustration is one I would not be able to endure another time around. I don't think my copy could take another beating against a wall. SO, all in all, a tepid review. I think. Although, really, how can I be sure?