Much like his previous book, Gay Bar, author Jeremy Atherton Lin mixes history with his personal experiences in a beautiful way.

I remember being blown away a few years ago by Jeremy Atherton Lin’s Gay Bar: Why We Went Out. It was one of those queer books that wasn’t afraid to be raw and deeply personal, that didn’t shy away from some of the more prurient and earthy details of gay sex and gay desire. Now Lin is back with an even more deeply personal and political book, one which further chronicles his relationship with his then-boyfriend (and now husband) Famous, particularly as their relationship intersected with the movement for marriage equality and the rights, including immigration, that come with it.

As he did with Gay Bar, Lin combines autobiography and memoir with a larger look at the world of the 1990s and 2000s, when gay marriage was a hotly-contested topic in both the US and in Famous’ home country of the UK. As a result, we get a rich and deep sense of the way that these debates were not merely academic. They had real-world impacts on couples like Lin and Famous and for many others like them, who desperately need its protections in order to avoid deportation. At the same time, Lin also discusses many of the key cases that shaped gay rights activism and advocacy from the 1970s and into the 2010s, including such landmark cases as Lawrence v. Texas (which was even messier than the news would have us believe, as Lin makes abundantly clear).

Deep House, also like Gay Bar, is also a bit of a time capsule of a time and a place that seem almost beyond recall today. Thanks to Lin’s evocative prose and dream-like descriptions, we find ourselves immersed in the bohemian culture of 1990s San Francisco. We journey with Lin and Famous as they take up residence in a variety of apartments, adopt several cats (who end up being left with Lin’s family once the two move to the UK), and find employment at a video store. While Lin and Famous are the heart and soul of this strange yet moving book, there are also many other characters that flit in and out of their lives, to their decadent roommates to the quasi-closeted gentleman who owns the video store while caring for his partner with AIDS.

One of the things that’s most striking about Deep House is just how clear it is that Lin is madly, deeply, passionately in love with Famous, his now-husband and, in some important ways, his ever-present muse. Indeed, many parts of the book are addressed to Famous and, so powerful and poignant and descriptive is Lin’s prose that you often feel as if you are standing right there next to them, invited into the most intimate elements of their lives and their loves. In some important ways Deep House reads as one long love letter to Famous, whose mind, spirit, and body cast a spell over Lin that he never entirely shakes off (not that he would want to, in any case).

This love is in part what allows them to navigate the fraught landscape of US immigration law, particularly since Famous comes to the US and overstays his visa, leading the two of them to essentially lead an underground existence, never sure when their house of cards is going to come crashing down. This leads to quite a few tense moments–including one in which Famous has to decide whether to go to the ER or not–as well as a generalized paranoia that any set of flashing lights might lead to him being deported. Theirs is a very queer sort of existence in all senses of the word and, while it might be a bit reductive to say that this is in essence the story of two love-crazy young people throwing all caution to the wind, there’s some truth to that description, and that’s precisely why I loved it. I mean, who doesn’t love a queer love story, especially one that ends pretty happily?

I also give Lin a great deal of credit for being willing and able to talk about gay sex in a way that is honest and at times visceral–he doesn’t shy away from some of the more embarrassing or kinkier elements of gay sex. Given the extent to which we seem to be living in a period of profound sex-negativity (particularly when it comes to gay sex), these descriptions take on an extra charge. While I’ll admit that it can sometimes be a bit uncomfortable to be invited into such a profoundly intimate look at two lovers, there’s something radical about it, too. If only all of us were so uninhibited talking about the various aspects of our sex lives, I daresay that American culture might have a healthier relationship with sex and the body more generally.

The book ends on a somewhat melancholy note. The two men have married in the UK, where they hope to be able to build a future together. However, as they drive off for a little getaway, Lin realizes that their processional song is actually a breakup song, which makes him wonder whether he’s cast a pall or a curse over their married life. Given just how anxious the two men have been during so many parts of their lives–and given how uncertain our present is–this makes sense as an ending. None of us know what the future will hold. The key, as Famous seems to realize, is just to hold onto our queer joys in the present and let the future fend for itself.

Deep House serves as a potent reminder of just how much is at stake for queer people in the newly hostile world in which we find ourselves. The hard-won victories that characterized the 2010s are quickly be revealed to have been paper-thin, gauzy phantasms covering over a roiling undercurrent of queerphobia that, with the election of Donald Trump to a second term, is determined to take no prisoners when it comes to rolling back what we’ve gained. Deep House shows us, in no uncertain terms, the very real and personal stakes, and so we must fight back and win and, just as importantly, we must do what we can to make the future queerer, and more just, than the world in which we now live.

Part memoir of an intercontinental couple navigating the spaces where they can thrive, and part historical document of gay history pertaining to marriage. I enjoyed the personal anecdotes and could appreciate the frustration of the men trying to find a home in this world.

Thanks to NetGalley for the eARC.

Thank you to NetGalley, the publisher, and author for an early opportunity to read this book. I thought I was the target audience, as I love a good love story, and this one promised the author’s own personal love story, and of his struggles for a legal, gay marriage that would allow for immigration into the United States. Along the way, the author recounts with minute detail the historical struggle of the modern movement to legalize same sex marriage, both in the US and the UK. I love these aspects of the book, as I am very much into modern social and cultural history/movements, particularly those that impact historically marginalized communities. However, I was not a fan of the very descriptive and graphic sexual escapades, which seemed to occur frequently and often and in great detail. So, as the legendary Meat Loaf sang, “two out of three ain’t bad!”

This was a very good book. It was well-written. I would highly recommend it.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers for the ARC.

This is a dense book. I really enjoyed reading it but there where moments where I had to take a break to digest all the stuff this story has. I also find the pace a bit inconsistent, especially in the second third of the book. This memoir is full of emotions and it's a well balanced story that combines personal experiences with queer historical events.

Exceptionally-written memoir.

Deep House really manages to capture the reader's attention within the first few pages (or at least it did to *this* reader), and it is hard to let go once one starts. It is impactful, current even if it set almost thirty years ago, sad, tragic, but also romantic and engaging. An important reading experience.

Real Rating: 4.5* of five
A story whose timeliness could not possibly be greater. Author Jeremy takes us through a moment, thirty years ago, when the political landscape looked a lot like today's. He had just fallen in love with "Famous Blue Raincoat," an undocumented Brit, which is presenting practical problems of residence and life together. How do you rent an apartment, earn a living, make couple-friends? You're carrying the usual relationship stuff but on top of that is the need to be discreet, even secretive, about big pieces of your life.

What Author Jeremy chooses as his narrative strategy is lighter on the deeply personal details in favor of a potted history of the topic of marriage equality in the US from DOMA in 1996 through twists an turns of bi-national queer couples litigating their basic human rights (which is not how rights are supposed to work except here in looney-religious-land) through to the now-imperiled Obergefell v Hodges decision in 2015.

It's a lot to take in. The personal parts pertaining to Author Jeremy and "Famous Blue Raincoat" are sprinkled on like powdered sugar to make the wodges of information go down easier. There are so many facts that impinge on the love story he's telling that there's really no other way to tell the whole story. Author Jeremy was threading needle after needle after needle, trying not to be preachy while advocating equality, trying not to be confessional while honestly depicting the cost of a life defined by struggle to access simple equality, trying not to chirp triumphantly about battles won while they're being refought, yet leaving his readers with real hope in a world that does not do much to support it.

The amount of focused effort in these four-hundred-plus pages is humbling. It's a gift to receive this kind of careful craft on such a personal topic. I'd've given a full fifth star had I had citations, not simply end-notes; it's a "me" thing, it likely won't bother a lot of y'all, but when you're relying on sources to make factual cases and points within cases, I'd like to be pointed at those sources in the text not simply as end notes. I feel a bit unkind bringing it up in a time where even the inclusion of end notes is increasingly rare, but, well, I'm pedantic and grouchy and old.

Surprise!

Don't wait...get yourself a copy fast as you can for your #PrideMonth reading. It's a pleasurable way to appreciate fully and personally what is at stake in the current political crisis.

NB LINKS TO SOURCES IN THE BLOGGED REVIEW

I forced myself through this book. I love memoir, I love queer history, I like smut, and I even like queer theory. I did not enjoy this book, which combines all of those. This is a story of a binational gay couple pre-Obergefell. I, too, lived through the Prop 8 campaign and Romer v Evans, which might make me more skeptical of any voice claiming to write authoritatively on the era. I did appreciate how the author admitted that they stayed out of activism because of his partner’s undocumented status rather than false claims to participation. Mostly this book was just boring. I kept checking how much I had left to read.
There’s nothing specific I can really identify as where it went wrong with this book. Based on the reviews, other people love it. But I really did not.

I received a free e copy of this book from the publisher and NetGalley in exchange for my honest review.

As a gay man who sometimes falls into myopic, self-centered views about life, love, liberty, and everything in between, I found this book genuinely beautiful and eye-opening. It offers a powerful look at the broader fight for queer marriage and civil rights, while also telling an intimate, deeply moving story of enduring love. Lin’s blend of political history and personal memoir is consistently engaging (maybe a little dry in the history stuff, but never boring) - a compelling reminder of how far we’ve come, and how far we still have to go. It underscores the need to remain vigilant in the fight for basic equality, perhaps forever. And above all, it’s a tribute to the resilience of queer people everywhere.

TL/DR: A moving and intimate tale told by a gifted writer to his life partner. Lin deftly weaves the broader tale of the fight for gay marriage into his personal love story.

Book subtitles are mostly a marketing thing. They don't usually give you a wholly accurate description of what's inside the covers. They're meant to grab your attention so that you'll pick up the book and give it a chance. As a marketing tool, subtitles have a tendency to oversell a book’s content.

Not so with Jeremy Atherton Lin’s latest book, Deep House. If anything, the subtitle “The Gayest Love Story Ever Told” undersells what's between these covers.

That's because Lin tackles both the personal, and the all-encompassing. He tells not only the (semi-autobiographical) love story between he and his now husband, but at the same time he unwraps the tale of the fight for gay marriage through the 90’s and 2000’s, giving us a beautifully rendered and deeply personal telling of gay love and how it came to be legally recognized.

Lin is a gifted writer. His own love story is told, in part, by placing each space he and his lover lived in — each apartment, rented basement, or shared loft — front and center, detailing the shape of their love in each space, and how it grew from house to house over time. He tells these stories to his partner, calling him “you” throughout. They are intimate stories, in the way that making love is intimate, and in the way that staying home nights, on the couch watching movies together, is intimate. I found these stories very moving and very relatable.

[A word for the non-gay reader: Lin is not afraid of letting us in on some of the physical aspects of his and his partner’s love, as you might guess from the book’s cover. That is not the focus of, or even a large part of, the book. While it may be different than what you are personally used to, it does add to the intimacy of the love story.]

The broader tale of the advances of gay marriage is deftly woven into the personal love story. Sometimes Lin steps back to give us context through stories from earlier decades, but mostly the fight advances at the same time as events in Lin and his partner’s lives.

One wrinkle in the personal love story - while Lin is American his partner is British. They met while Lin was a student visiting London in the late 1990s. Without being able to marry, they found themselves without a way to both reside legally in one or the other's country. So throughout much of the book Lin's partner is in the US illegally, a situation that weighs on both of them and constrains them in ways they hadn't anticipated.

I loved this book. While Lin and his husband have made some different choices than have my husband and I (he talks honestly of their open relationship), I loved reading this story of two men in love, and whose love lasts through decades.

very well written work of memoir/non-fiction! the writing style is impressive and details the history excellently. 5 stars. tysm for the arc.

I quite enjoyed this one. Part memoir, part history lesson, Jeremy Atherton Lin takes the reader on two journeys - one through the tortured legal battle around gay partnerships and another through his own intercontinental love story. I found there to be a pretty good balance of both, although at times I felt that the beauty and lyricism of the writing prevented some of the heavier content from landing in the way I wanted it too. I don't want to say it's too well written, only that because the writing is so beautiful, I was able to avoid connecting with some of the darker emotions.

This was my first by the author, but I'm going to check out his other work. 4 stars. Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the ARC!

Thank you @littlebrown for the advanced copy to review!

A rule-breaking, sweat-soaked, genre-busting story of outlaw love.

^from the publisher!

Having read Gay Bar by @jeremyathertonlin - I knew I was in for a treat with this book. First, I love Jeremy’s writing style. The way he weaves personal experience with facts and history is done beautifully.

Second, I love his partner “Famous Blue Raincoat.” Reading more about their life together was awesome and I feel like they have so many stories to tell.

Third, I just really loved this deep dive into queer marriage history and how so much of it affected his personal life. How stressful that time must have been for these two!

My FAVORITE chapter was the road trip one. It just felt like such a perfect break in some of the heaviness of the facts and figures. It felt so real and raw. Also the last chapter was the sweetest and the end!!

I’d read another book by Jeremy for sure. Fully recommend this one for a dose of queer history with a fantastic and interesting personal touch.

Deep House is an exploration of queer love through personal memoir mixed with a history of the fight for gay marriage. starting in ‘96, Lin takes us through his relationship with a british man, in a time of the Defense of Marriage Act and legal battles that denied gay couples their rights. lin shares intimate moments which paint the picture of a really beautiful love story.

i feel the combination of telling this love story in tandem with the history of gay marriage was very important to this book. it reminds younger generations like myself that love, and our rights, should never be taken for granted, as we didn’t always have the right to marry whomever we loved.

with this narrative choice though there were moments that felt jarring. the way the history component of this book is weaved throughout the author’s personal story, sometimes took me out of the love story for a moment. there were times where i wanted more focus on the love story for a bit longer.

overall, lin captures the resilience and spirit of queer people throughout history. this book provides a really essential perspective on the history of gay rights and those who fought for them. it’s beautifully written and a true testament to how love can thrive even in the darkest times.

thank you to NetGalley and Little, Brown and Company for an ARC version of this book in exchange for an unbiased review :)

This is a really unique reflection on a relationship within the larger historical context of what was going on in terms of gay rights at the time it was taking place. It's basically a blend of autofiction and history, both personal and national, and if nothing else, if you're completely lacking empathy, now you can understand what people went through, and are scared about returning to in the wake of Trump 2.0. Absolutely worth your time this summer when it comes out.

Beautiful and provocative - especially for those of us in Lin’s generation who lived similar love stories, to see one such story juxtaposed against the framework of relentless politics that seeked to determine how that love was recognized legally (or not). All the more provocative because the realization by the end of this book is that each time legislation or court cases attempt put the period at the end of a sentence answering the question, the question doesn’t actually go away. It just returns with a new angle, a new generation, a new purpose, new set of footnotes for a chapter still to be written.

i thought i would enjoy this way more than i did! it was really good but the non fiction part felt a little boring or the tone was really hard to grasp. outside of the nonfiction part i really enjoyed it, and i really enjoyed learning about the historical stuff, i just think the tone was just so dry.

Part non-fiction recount of the history of gay marriage and part memoir, "Deep House" examines queer love (legally, culturally, personally). Starting in 1996 with the Defense of Marriage Act, the author takes us through key moments in the fight for gay marriage, reminding us how relatively recently gay marriage has been legalized and how quickly those rights could be taken away. This felt especially poignant in today's political climate.

This was a bit front-loaded on the history of gay marriage in the U..S (facts, figures, dates, politics, etc.). Personally, I prefer my dual non-fiction/memoirs to be heavier on the memoir and lighter on the non-fiction topic. I would've liked to hear more about the author's love/relationship/queerness in general and specifically during the events mentioned.

Personal preferences aside though, this was well-written with much heart and humor. I look forward to going back and reading this author's previous release Gay Bar.

Thank you to NetGalley and Little, Brown and Company for the ARC.

Jeremy Atherton Lin's "DEEP HOUSE" combines a memoir of tender love with a broader narrative on queer love before gay marriage legalization. Starting in 1996 when Jeremy meets "Famous," a Brit, the story blends undocumented domestic life with courthouse battles, media spin, and political maneuvers around a key civil rights issue.

This is my first book from Lin and while I enjoyed the memoir aspects mixed with history, I would have loved to spend more time with Lin’s love story - it was exciting. That’s not to say Lin hasn’t done an incredible job with the history of love, I wanted to know more about *his* love.

This memoir arrives at a critical juncture in America's history, where rights and freedoms are on the cusp of being eroded by an administration intent on erasing significant aspects of history. This book is not just important for the LGBT community but for everyone who values the preservation of our collective past. Understanding our history is crucial to preparing for and fighting for our future. Lin does a phenomenal job of painting this tapestry, reminding us of the importance of preserving our history, even when some would rather see it obliterated. Books like this one will be vital in whatever comes next. Thanks to NetGalley and Little, Brown and Company for the ARC.