On non-linear thinking:
The book never would have worked in a linear fashion. It would have lost a lot of its mystery. As it was, I had to re-read the final “battle” and then go back and read all the Boy King sections in order so I could gain a better understand of BK himself and the book as a whole. I think Anderson did a good job not only of replicating the slipstream consciousness of a tyro, but also evoking the fragmented and disorienting memories associated with emotional trauma. I view the book in a similar manner as I do “Kill Bill”, which also would have lost its impact as a linear story. In both cases, you’re forced to re-analyze information since you’re kind of forced to take things at face value right away. Like the tarot, you’re forced to figure out the information on your own because Anderson isn’t providing easy answers for you.
On identity:
When you enter into a relationship of any kind, you have to keep a hold of your own identity while also forming a communal identity with the other party. Both Miles and Rosemont were reluctant to give up anything of themselves and form this communal identity since they feared losing themselves in it. This may explain why they constantly argued while remaining best friends. Miles seemed more willing to form the communal identity and tried to convince Rosemont to look at things differently so that they might get the process started. Rosemont saw Miles’ admittedly clumsy attempts at this as personal attacks on sense of control (no matter how conscious or subconscious that sense was) and responded with indifference.
It doesn’t help that both men respond to the world in completely opposite ways. Miles tends to react to situations by attacking the problem, while Rosemont reacts to the world by defending against it. Miles’ constant jibes at Rosemont’s expense, although really Miles’ own way of bringing Rosemont out of his shell and awaken his understanding of the world, only caused Rosemont to raise his shields up higher. This is one of the clearest metaphors to the cosmic struggle of Khnum (power) over the Etruscan Discipline (defense).
When both men are “stitched together” after Miles takes Rosemont’s place in the torture chair, they’re forced to do exactly the thing they feared. They’re not only forced into a communal bond, they’re forced to live almost entirely inside of it and define themselves within it. Even then, there are signs that they fight to maintain their own identities, even if they don’t truly remember who they are anymore. The experience has changed both of them, however. Both of them are now more open to the world and looking at things beyond their own needs, with Miles learning the power of subtlety and Rosemont learning the grace that comes with submission and acceptance.
On the gay stuff:
I think Anderson didn’t HAVE to make both men gay, but I think that in doing so he made the relationship much more believable, much more organic. There’s a very strong love/hate bond between the men, and I think that making them both straight would have made that seemed forced and strained. Anderson could have made them brothers, but that would have been far too obvious and would have given up the game immediately. After all, Miles is supposed to be Romulus asking for forgiveness for what he’s done to his more powerful-but-forgotten brother Remus/Rosemont after building the new “city” of their gestalt identity.
Do I think Miles was gay? Possibly. He may have been bi. He may simply felt a very strong attraction to Rosemont. Anderson isn’t trying to make any kind of commentary about what it means to be gay in the world (aside from a few references to bashing). Rosemont and Miles are two men who happen to have had an intense love affair in the past.
The final scene of the book, when Boy King merges with his reflection, would have had none of the emotional impact if the two had not been lovers. I don’t remember the final pages of a book haunting me the way that the last words in this work did. It’s an amazingly resonant act of redemption and forgiveness and love.
General thoughts:
Whoever wrote the summary on the back of the book did a hell of a job. The summary really tries to sell the book as a “Da Vinci Code” style thriller, and while the Rosemont narrative DOES have elements of that, that isn’t the focus of the book at all. The REAL story of the book is the Boy King narrative, with the Rosemont narrative being an extended flashback of sorts. The plot isn’t a quest to stop the Watts deck from falling into Visconti’s hands. The real plot is Miles seeking forgiveness for his sins against Rosemont, not just his body-swapping act in the warehouse but for bringing distance between them during their times together.
The Watts deck is just a big, giant MacGuffin. It’s even said that Rosemont doesn’t need the deck to use his abilities, and in the end it’s destroyed by throwing it into the deep fryer of a greasy spoon bar. After all, Boy King (who is Rosemont and Miles in one) is told he “is the Grail.” The deck itself is just a series of paintings: it’s the user that invests all the meaning and power into them since they have none on their own, which is honestly exactly how I’ve always believed tarot should work. The cards are a tool to hone your own intuition and focus your connection to the universe, not a series of magic 8-balls.
That’s not to say the Rosemont narrative isn’t worth reading, because it’s exciting in and of itself. Anderson has a wonderful style and he lightens up his occasionally heavy atmospherics with pieces of sly humor. I personally love the meeting at a Chi-Chi’s in the middle of Rome and the fact that one of Visconti’s henchmen is just called Kermit for his resemblance to the frog. The more I think about the book, the more it’s allowed to digest in my brain, the more fascinated by it I become.