Marlo

It's the 1950s in conservative Australia, and Christopher, a young gay man, moves to 'the City' to escape the repressive atmosphere of his tiny hometown. Once there, however, he finds that it is just as censorial and punitive, in its own way. Then Christopher meets Morgan, and the two fall in love - a love that breathes truth back into Christopher's stifled life. But the society around them remains rigid and unchanging, and what begins as a refuge for both men...
More Description

It's the 1950s in conservative Australia, and Christopher, a young gay man, moves to 'the City' to escape the repressive atmosphere of his tiny hometown. Once there, however, he finds that it is just as censorial and punitive, in its own way.

Then Christopher meets Morgan, and the two fall in love - a love that breathes truth back into Christopher's stifled life. But the society around them remains rigid and unchanging, and what begins as a refuge for both men inevitably buckles under the intensity of navigating a world that wants them to refuse what they are. Will their devotion be enough to keep them together?

In reviving a time that is still so recent yet so vastly different from now, Jay Carmichael has drawn on archival material, snippets of newspaper articles, and photos to create the claustrophobic environment in which these two men lived and loved. Told with Carmichael's ear for sparse, poetic beauty, Marlo takes us into the landscape of a relationship defined as much by what is said and shared as by what has to remain unsaid.



'Carmichael's second novel is a noble exercise in mapping lived but seemingly lost Australian queer histories. With its unfettered prose, Marlo is a quiet and earnest story of gay male desire and longing.'
-Nathan Smith, Books+Publishing

'Falling in love can be terrifying and all the harder when the laws of the land are against you. Marlo is a deeply affecting novel; tender and brutal by turn.'
-Sophie Cunningham

'What's most striking about Marlo is its quiet dignity, the lightness of touch with which Carmichael tells this story, which is about recognition and discovery as much as it is about love. Christopher's unfolding realisation - that in order to come of age he must also cast himself out - is never cause for him to abandon his optimism and his willingness to hope for and work for a life and a love, however unsanctioned, of his own making. Carmichael's reclaiming of a sidelined history is defiantly hopeful too, resisting tragedy and seeking out forgotten joys instead.'
-Fiona Wright