thank you to netgalley and the publisher for an e-arc in exchange for an honest review!

this one has me feeling all types of emotions, most of them not good - but i believe that was the point. to sum up my thoughts in one word, i'd say uncomfortable, and that mirrors what the main character felt like this entire book.

the main character, hal, is uncomfortable in his own skin as a gay catholic (and there is a lot of repressed catholic guilt which i actually found was explored well), around his father (who abused him as a child which resulted in a very complicated relationship into his adulthood), feeling any intimacy with men (especially a childhood friend that, throughout the book, he struggled to open up and let in), his siblings despite their constant attempts to make something out of their relationships with him, and at the end of the day, accepting who he is despite that all.

as a self-deprecating and self-medicating person, hal was a culmination of his trauma and at times it was difficult to be in his head as he does come off as an unlikeable character, but as a reader, for me, it was met with empathy. his truest self is never intentionally harmful nor does he seek out to be a vindictive person. he is simply the result of his upbringing and the environment he was raised in. he tried - really tried - and continues to try to be better than what everyone expects of him, of what he expects of himself, and that's commendable in itself, given what he's gone through.

i did enjoy the writing - the dry humor, the one liners, the lucidity to where it's almost painful, all of it was done well. overall, if you like anything queer, messy, and real, this one's for you!

Hal, the future Duke of Lancaster, lives in the shadow of his noble family and expectations for his future but all he wants to do is drink and do drugs and sink into oblivion. Not big on plot, Henry Henry is primarily a character study of Hal as he navigates the environment he exists in and comes to terms with his family and their past and himself. The novel explores a complicated father son relationship as well as a complex family history that hangs heavily over Hal.

I’m not sure I have adequate words to express my experience with this novel. I was absolutely riveted by Hal. The way Bratton portrays the depth of pain, self loathing, emptiness, unworthiness, and lack of feeling or care for anything is so convincingly crafted. Hal comes off as an entitled, spoiled brat throwing his life away. But as the novel progresses Bratton weaves elements into Hal’s character that create a highly nuanced portrait of a human navigating the complex systems and structures that we exist in. The weight of wealth, faith, and family pulls Hal down to the lowest depths; so far down that he is completely and utterly lost and unsure of how to live or survive and has given up on trying. Behind this wall of protection is a traumatized person responding in the only way he can to his experiences and the environment that surrounds him. In so many ways Hal is a deplorable, unlikeable character but the manner in which Bratton conveys the depths of his humanity is masterful. Despite the dark and heavy content there is an arc of redemption and hope. It is a minimal, understated shift and in a way this made it more realistic and impactful.

As someone who doesn’t gravitate to romance, the romance contained in these pages worked for me. Even when it felt like it might veer over the edge of being too cliche and cheesy for my taste, it never did. It always felt like it went just far enough to explore the issues Bratton brings forward in this novel including deep shame and homophobia and feeling worthy of/deserving of love. There is so much depth to this novel I can’t do it justice in a short Instagram review you’ll just need to read it yourself.

This book has been referred to as a queer contemporary take on Shakspeare’s Henriad which I am not familiar with. While I could envision a Shakespearean connection based on my limited exposure to his work, my lack of knowledge did not negatively impact my experience with this novel.

Please check and heed trigger warnings. There are graphic scenes of abuse that can be very difficult to read. I do think the inclusion furthers aspects of the story, especially how those experiencing abuse navigate the experience and grapple with the role they play in what has occurred and who to tell and when to share their stories. I imagine scenes in this novel could be very triggering for some so please take note and read with caution. I have seen other trigger warnings as well so check them if needed.

I am certain this will be one of my top reads this year, highly recommend it.

Thank you @unnamedpress @netgalley for the #gifted ARCs

Real Rating: 4.5* of five, rounded up respecting its ambition

<B>The Publisher Says: <I>Henry Henry</I> is a queer reimagining of Shakespeare's Henriad, transposing the legend of Henry V's wayward youth into 21st-century Britain in the years leading up to the Brexit referendum.</B>

<I>Henry Henry</I> follows Hal Lancaster—22, gay, Catholic—as he spends his first years out of Oxford floating between internships, drinking with his actor friends, struggling through awkward hook-ups, and occasionally going to confession to be absolved of his sins.

When a grouse shooting accident—funny in retrospect—makes a romance out of Hal's rivalry with fumblingly leftist family friend Harry Percy, Hal finds that he wants, for the first time, to be himself. But his father Henry is an Englishman: he will not let his son escape tradition. To save himself, Hal must reckon not only with grief and shame but with the wounds of his family's past.

<B>I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA NETGALLEY. THANK YOU.

My Review</B>: So, the plot's not a big mystery...Shakespeare did the set-up half a millennium ago, if you haven't read it that's on you and your life choices...but brings the subtect of queerness into full textual focus.

This will make some homophobic numskulls very angry. Good.

I was sexually abused by my mother the way Hal was by his father. The many shamings and abuses, the cruel holdings-up to those gone by, of Hal as a person by his father; and maybe more importantly as a sexual being by the idiocy of religion; and the nastiness of steadily belittling him, all poured acid into my eyes. The playbook of controlling mechanisms are all right here: These awful things happened to me, too, Hal, and I really, really want to hug you while murderering your father. The ugly shadow, dirty smudgy tobacco-smoky brown-grey, that will always separate you from your deeply belovèd Percy who can, in the miraculous way of one truly and purely loved, make Hal clean again, can't be banished. Not with his abuser and the filthy miasma of their god suspended in Hal's breath and between the red blood cells in his veins.

What worked best, then, was the reality of a psychologically abused son in the grip of a sexually jealous and sociopathic parent who expresses their power by coercing the child into sexual servitude and then blaming the child for not being strong enough to live a normal life. What was not necessarily so easy was the mapping of the story onto Shakespeare's "Henriad." It's been a while since my Shakespeare days, but the whole point of the Henriad wasn't to map out Prince Hal's survivorhood, was it? It was meant to explain how, after his rebellious rageful youth, he snaps into focus when he hears the strumpet shriek of Power. Of course, if you don't know the outline of the Henriad, none of this matters because it will sail past you. Suffice to say that book-Hal is a nasty piece of work (though for a reason), and play-Hal is a nasty piece of work too (though for different ones). The father/son conflicts, the verbal cruelties each inflicts, are all in the plays. The thing that isn't in the plays is Hal's self-awarness, or so I recall. Play-Hal is nasty and abusive to kinder people than he deserves to have around him and then, when he attains Power, he changes; book-Hal is more reflective, more aware that he is in fact wrestling with demons that have warped him and could kill him if he does not get the upper hand.

What that meant to my reading of the story was that I half-hoped there would be some mercy for the lost and the left behind. What it actually meant was the book ended before I got a sense that the story was over and all the threads dangled.

Not my favorite kind of ending. Appropriate to the subject matter. Truthful and completely honest. Just...dissatisfying, a lot like the life it limns for Hal. He is not satisfied; he cannot be satisfied; he can only dimly conjure any awareness that satisfaction could exist but can in no way craft any kind of response to those around him that would result in anyone feeling satisfied. It is, as a novel, bitter and hateful and cruel; but it is beautifully said and spoken in clear, unhistrionic tones.

A very big ask, this read. Go in with your Shakespeare goggles on and come away shocked at what a new generation of response to him has uncovered. Go in unaware of the Henriad and the dangling ends might bother you more. Shakespeare took three plays (four, if we're stuffy about it) to resolve the Lancastrian dynasty's fate. Author Bratton tried to squeeze it into less than four hundred pages so no wonder he wasn't all the way successful.

Fully successful or not, the clarity and honesty about the pain that abuse and hateful religiosity of Hal's world make it a highly rewarding read.

Overall I really enjoyed this book and I think it was beautifully written. I enjoyed how unlikeable the main character was and the struggles Hal went through with navigating his family and daily life gave a good insight. Even though there was little character development and there are a few trigger warnings, I would still recommend giving Henry Henry a read if it is your sort of book.

I really enjoyed this book. The writing is brilliant, it's observational and wry, beautiful without being overbearing. You don't need to be familiar with Shakespeare's Henriad to like this book if you enjoy reading character-driven novels.

After reading the Patrick Melrose books last year, I was looking for something similar and this was that, in more ways than one. The characters felt real and some of the dialogues made me laugh. It balances the humor and sensitive topics well. The revelation of Hal surprised me, but the depiction felt authentic and the complexities of his emotions were handled with care.

It's a book that goes through events, things happen but the pace feels slow, and any growth is minimal. I would've liked a better, more definitive resolution, but even with the not-much-happens ending, it didn't ruin the rest of the book for me. I'll gladly read anything else by Allen Bratton, and I hope to see more.

DNF. While the writing was commendable, it didn't resonate with me. Moreover, the absence of trigger warnings was disappointing.

I found this very compelling - messy, dramatic, painful, compulsive. I enjoyed the first half more and my attention waned a bit towards the end; the pacing could have used some tightening up, but it’s a very accomplished debut from an author whose work I’m excited to follow.

3.5 stars with lots of TW to look into. I usually read sad, messy girl litfic but love that this is a queery messy boy litfic! It was a little long for my taste and there were some uncomfy parts. It was hard for me to relate oftentimes but I still enjoyed our unlikable MMC. I felt really bad for Hal at times and at other times I'm like "what the heck are you doing stop!" There were also some times that this gave me some serious Saltburn vibes. I think this will find its people and will be a favorite for many.

Henry Henry is a beautifully written novel. Its characters were fascinating and well developed. It feels like a modern classic and I will be reading it again to fully get into the story.

I thought of write a negative review because of the lack of trigger warning in a novel so full of triggers. I hope they will write them when the book will be published.
However, I don’t know if I like this book. I love Bratton’s writing, that’s for sure, the book is so wonderful written, but there was a little to much pornography of pain and I don’t like it.
I really appreciate the toxic dynamic between Hal and Harry and the Shakespeare’s references, but I didn’t quite love the story. I’m really sorry.

Henry Henry is a fantastically well-written debut novel that follows Hal Lancaster and his relationships with his family, his romantic interests, and the Catholic church, starting in London 2014. But before we get into the review, this novel has a lot of trigger warnings.

TW: sexual assault, incest, eating disorders, blood, death of AIDS, homophobia.

Despite Hal’s wealth, and really because of it, nothing is going right in his life, and Bratton’s incredible prose immediately draws in and immerses the reader, despite Hal clearly being quite a terrible person. However, any dislike for Hal doesn’t last for long with the incredible empathy and sympathy that are drawn out of the powerful interiority.

His father has been sexually abusing him since he was an adolescent, and created an incredibly strong dissonance between Hal’s sexuality and their longstanding relationship with the Catholic church. This theme resonates throughout the novel, and created a huge takeaway of the complexity of deeply-ingrained, yet harmful childhood beliefs. This all ties in and the tension is elevated as we learn about Richard, Hal’s uncle, who is no longer living but remains as a bone of contention between Hal and his father.

The major highlights of this book for me were Hal’s relationship with his sister Philippa, and his partner, Harry Percy. Without spoiling too much, these character’s foiled and mirrored Hal so, incredibly well, and made me want what Hal wanted, even though I knew it would never happen because change was so impossible for Hal to achieve. There were times where I was disgusted by Hal, and others where I just wanted to give him a big hug, and I was absolutely here for it. He is a deeply flawed person, and he knows it, which I think is something really unique that Bratton does in his writing. It really changes the narrative about how people come at Hal, when they don’t have the leverage of hurting him by saying he’s a bad person.

The ending, I feel was so, so fitting. While the topic turned a little bit from what I thought it would be, it wrapped up so wonderfully, and showed the character development, and showed how hard Hal was trying to fight this deep, painful trauma.

Recommend for: lovers of immersive prose, Shakespeare references, and complex, toxic relationships.

While the writing and developed themes were incredibly compelling, I mostly found reading this to be a chore. I had a difficult time getting into this, I was not really into Hal as a character so I never quite felt motivated to pick the book up.

However, once we got to the incident with Harry Percy, I suddenly felt invested. I loved the charm between these characters, the way their differences and similarities bounced off one another.

But then the energy and momentum of the story kind of fizzled out for me, a lot of the action felt repetitive and I was waiting for a bit more development from these characters.

I did love the connection between Catholicism (and a lot of guilt), Hal’s relationship with his father (complicated, to say the least), the long line of history that tethered this family together, and the Shakespearian-ness of it all. These sentences and craft of it were all well done, so even though the story didn’t totally work for me, the structure of it did.

I have a feeling that this will be a polarizing book people will have opinions about, but if you are a reader that prefers (messy) character-driven novels, enjoyed the Henriad (or maybe even Succession), and are down for some privileged white boy drama, I think this will be a book for you.

Thanks to NetGalley and Unnamed Press for the eARC!

Henry Henry is splendid. Bratton builds a beautiful world of mid-aughts Britain, a protagonist who is deeply alone, and a supporting cast of characters that, well, only Shakespeare himself could rival.

Reading Henry Henry was like slipping into a pond for a midnight swim in the summertime, but the water is far too cold and the ground far too mucky. Everything about this book made me cringe. But I couldn't put it down. I think this novel forces you to take it seriously, from the style of prose to how sadly unlikeable nearly every character is.

I would recommend Henry Henry to all readers who loved Saltburn or any of Brandon Taylor's novels.

This novel is really stylish and fun, beautiful and bouncy prose that covers some serious topics with grace. I haven´t brushed up on my Shakespeare and am fairly certain I remember none of the Henriad but really enjoyed this unique queer book regardless. I especially appreciate the strength of the narrative gaze---these characters are handled with love in so that we see them in their absolute truth, their endearing and horrifying, their humanity.

Henry, Henry has its own magnetism for readers that are already fans of Shakespeare, specifically of the Henriad, of which the novel is highly inspired by. I don't think readers need to know any context of the Henriad going into this story (I didn't know any) although I'm sure the reading experience could be heightened if so. The novel follows Hal's journey through sex, friendship, drugs, etc. Initially the story beats felt like a way to understand Hal's character based on his perception and reaction to his own accountability with these experiences. Without spoiling too much, it's his inner feelings that were most compelling compared to the external, his environment almost feeling like a pigeon hole to getting to Hal's most lucid thoughts that I was looking forward to the book honing in on when it opted to. This would most often be when Hal interacts with his father and Percy. While the other parts of the book are no small matter in importance, by comparison it almost feels like it stifles Hal from expanding beyond what feels a bit cyclical after a while, but perhaps that is a symptom of his character as well: Hal's stubbornness glowing. Overall, at times it felt hard to know Hal, but maybe that was the point, albeit again my inexperience with maybe catching the Henriad references that may have made this novel more enjoyable.

"Henry Henry" by Allen Bratton is the first novel that renown author Brandon Taylor acquired as an editor for unnamed press. When I read this at the beginning of my manuscript, I knew that it would provoke distinct feelings in me, much like Taylor's "Real Life" and "Filthy Animals" did.
If you are a fan or an admirer of writers such as Taylor, Bryan Washington and Garth Greenwell, then this is a novel that will hit all your spots.
However, it did not quite live up to my own expectations.

"Henry Henry" was conceived as a loose retelling of Shakespeare's "The Henriad", which was focused on Henry V's journey through Great Britain, done in a modern London just before the Brexit referendum.
Bratton's writing is concise, straightforward and as vulgar and down to earth as you would expect a Brayn Washington book to be. Hal, our protagonist, has faced trauma in a past that does not want to leave him alone, and so he spirals into drugs, casual hookups and attempts to redeem himself through his catholic faith. The writing mimics this messiness, this spiralling into madness and chaos, and how someone can try and pull themselves out of it.

The dynamic between Hal and his father, akin to a precarious dance over the chasm of their mutual disdain, forms the heart of the narrative. Their intertwined loathing reflects a broader spectrum of self-deprecation masterfully painted by Allen Bratton. From this central conflict blooms a delicate web of relationships: Hal and Harry, the optimist whose earnestness contrasts starkly with Hal's cynicism; Hal and Jack Falstaff, a faded confidante from Hal's past; Hal's intricate ties with his younger siblings, notably Philippa, as well as the complexities of extended family dynamics and the aristocratic entourage.

However as other critics and readers have found themselves cheering for Hal amidst the bleakness, a testament to Bratton's writing skills, I found myself more frustrated at Hal's self-destructive behaviours than I was understanding.
As said previously, if you're a fan of those authors who like their characters messy and mirror their personalities in the chaotic plot, then this novel is definitely more of your taste.

Thank you to the publishers and NetGalley for providing a copy of the e-ARC. My opinions are honest and my own.

I finished Henry, Henry a week ago, but I needed to sit with the story and the characters before writing my review. Henry, Henry is a modern retelling of Shakespeare's Henry IV, which I haven't read, so I can't speak to the similarities between the two. Hal Lancanster is one of those characters that you just want to grab by the shoulders and shake. He is selfish, incredibly judgemental, and not particularly kind. In the beginning I found him so frustrating that I didn't think I would be able to continue with the book. But with each page, we learn more about Hal and his relationships with his friends, family, and the Catholic Church, and understand a bit more about his actions and reactions throughout the book.

For me, the story dragged on for a bit in the middle, and given the nature of the events in this story, I didn't necessarily want to pick it up and keep reading. I thought the writing was fantastic though, and I will certainly read another book by Allen Bratton.

There are a lot of trigger warnings for this book, so proceed with caution.

As I sat down to write this review, I found myself wrestling with a myriad of emotions—a testament to the complexity of the novel itself. Henry Henry is a difficult novel; the kind of book that will linger with you long after you’ve turned the final page. While my review and my rating may seem overly negative, I want to stress that, despite my criticisms, this is a book that left a profound impact on me. Let’s dive in.

The issue was, for me, that there were things I liked but nothing I absolutely loved. Take, for example, Bratton’s writing style. On the one hand, the prose is undeniably beautiful; this is a novel full of lush, vivid imagery. However, the beautiful prose becomes meandering and convoluted when it has nothing to latch onto. Many chapters end abruptly. While this could’ve been a stylistic choice, I found it frustrating. There are also some strange formatting issues, which are likely due to the uncorrected review copy I received and should be fixed before publication, but I wanted to make a note of them in case this isn’t the case.

Let me get into some plot specifics. Shakespeare retellings are a dime a dozen, but it’s an ambitious choice to parallel The Henriad. As a lover of contemporary literature and Shakespearean classics, I was naturally drawn to the promise of a modern, queer retelling. Yet, as I delved deeper, I felt unsatisfied. The plot often meandered, struggling to maintain a clear direction, leaving me longing for a more focused narrative. Additionally, as one of maybe… I don’t know… ten people who are familiar enough with Henry IV to comment on the parallels… I felt jarred by the choices Bratton makes and how he utilizes Shakespearean allusions. There’s a tantalizing premise here, yet Henry Henry falls short in exploring its Shakespearean roots.

Specifically: this is a book that would really benefit from trigger warnings. I know that trigger warnings are a contentious subject in the publishing industry, but, in my opinion, this is a book where the cover art and summary don’t accurately capture the VERY heavy themes covered within. Incest is present in Shakespeare (cough, Hamlet? Richard III?) but it’s not present in Henry IV — or at least not present enough that a reader with some level of familiarity with the Henriad would assume it’d be present here. Again, I want to emphasize that this is not a light, fluffy rom-com. This is a book that has much more in common with A Little Life than you might assume from reading the blurb. (Or maybe that was just a me problem? Food for thought.)

That’s not to say that these themes are handled poorly; on the contrary, Bratton navigates them with remarkable skill and sensitivity. His exploration of heavy topics such as sexual abuse and emotional trauma is commendable, delving deep into the intricacies and complexities of these experiences. However, amidst the weighty themes lies a significant challenge: the novel's narrative feels bloated and overstretched. In the midst of this, one of the novel’s most powerful assets—Hal Lancaster's raw, unfiltered, self-loathing voice—seems to fade into the background. It's a shame to see such a compelling character overshadowed by the meandering plot. 

Plus, let's talk about Hal's love life—specifically, his romance with Harry Percy. Now, don't get me wrong, there was a lot to love (I love Hotspur, so, admittedly I was predisposed to love Harry Percy), but something about it just didn't quite hit the spot for me. The evolution of their relationship from rivals to casual hookups and eventually to something more serious felt abrupt and disjointed. In a novel so deeply rooted in characters, I was taken aback by the sudden shift in their dynamic. It felt as though crucial moments of connection and growth between Hal and Harry were glossed over, leaving their relationship lacking in depth and authenticity. Maybe if their relationship had been given more time to simmer and develop naturally, it would've felt more believable. But as it stands, it left me feeling a bit underwhelmed and wishing for a bit more depth to their dynamic.

So, to wrap up my thoughts: while there's no denying Bratton's skillful writing and the intriguing premise of the story, I can't ignore the nagging feeling of disappointment. The pacing felt off, the romance lacked that spark, and the plot meandered more than I'd hoped. I wonder how much of my negative feelings about this book are due to misplaced expectations. If I had gone into this book expecting an emotional, character-driven book loosely inspired by Henry IV, I might have been more satisfied.

(Review will go live 04/12)

"i want to get eaten by whatever wants to eat me."

loosely-based on Shakespeare's Henry IV, Henry Henry opens with the promise of beautiful prose, self loathing characters, and a vile admission that lies beneath the surface. while each of those things does occur, the journey to reach each of these aspects is middling at best. this novel has all the ingredients to strike something within me, but other than /that/ reveal, i felt almost nothing while reading this. bratton's prose is undoubtedly beautiful, but it quickly becomes meandering when the writing style has nothing to latch onto.

at times i not only loved henry, but found myself buried within him. however, over the course of over 300 pages, his voice becomes lost within the bloated story he forced to inhabit. at times, it feels like this book is attempting to be something it physically cannot become. whether that's the newest great queer novel or a beautiful character study, it's clear that Henry Henry doesn't have the guts to transform into either.

thank you to netgalley and unnamed press for the arc.

There are so many content warnings for this book, but sexual abuse / incest is central to the plot and explicit on page. So read with caution.

This was not the book for me. It was hard to feel bad for the main character in the beginning because he seemed like a whiny rich kid who partied too hard and didn’t bathe enough. But then we saw, explicitly, that he was being sexually abused by his father, and it made me sick. The whole book I was waiting for some kind of resolution or justice for what was happening, and it felt like it was building up to something at the end, but it never came.

The romance also left something to be desired. It seemed like our main character, Hal, didn't even like his boyfriend, Harry Percy, very much? He seemed to be barely tolerating him (and the sex) for the majority of their relationship, and then all of a sudden was in love with him. We also didn't get any resolution for this piece of the plot either.

Thank you Netgalley for sending me this advance copy in exchange for an honest review!