Sensing Light: A Novel
by Mark A. Jacobson
Ulysses Press. 288 pages, $15.95
FROM THE EARLY 1980s to the late 1990s, AIDS dominated gay life in America. Reports of a mysterious “cancer” spreading among gay men appeared in national publications in 1981. By the middle of the decade, sexually active gay men feared for their lives. Early arguments about closing gay bathhouses gave way to memorial services for dead friends, fundraisers to provide services for the sick, and political action to demand greater access to drugs and more funds for research to find a cure. When the AIDS Quilt came to our cities, we wandered among the panels searching for the friends we had lost. A major body of literature was produced in these years: plays, novels, short stories, and “witnessing narratives,” so that, in the memorable words of George Whitmore, a writer who died in 1989, future generations will know that “someone was here.”
For Americans in their thirties and younger, all of this is ancient history, which is why it is good to have Sensing Light, a novel written by a physician who first began working with AIDS patients in San Francisco in 1986. Mark Jacobson dedicates the novel to his patients who did not survive, but he states in his preface that his characters are fictional and not based on any real people. The central characters are three physicians working at a public hospital where, once the epidemic begins, AIDS patients who are not rich or famous will receive care. Kevin Bartholomew, who is gay, came to San Francisco for his medical residency to escape the homophobia of his Catholic South Boston childhood. Gwen Howard, a single mother working in a public health clinic, meets Kevin when she returns to complete the residency she had to leave in order to support her daughter. Herb Wu, the son of Chinese immigrants, is the chief of pulmonary medicine and will become the supervisor and mentor to Kevin and Gwen when they take permanent positions at the hospital.
The novel begins in 1979 with “the first case,” Larry, a male prostitute, who is admitted to Kevin’s service with a mysterious pneumonia that will claim his life within a few days. In the early chapters, Jacobson skillfully interweaves a large amount of medical information with the introduction of his main characters. The novel will unfold throughout the 1980s. Jacobson periodically skips ahead two or three years to highlight the dramatic progression of the epidemic. The term GRID is quickly replaced by AIDS; the HIV virus is discovered; the arrival of AZT, the first drug to slow the progress of the disease, leads to a battle to end clinical trials and make it available to all HIV patients; the death of Rock Hudson has a huge impact on public awareness. The book ends in 1991 with a discussion of the kind of research that would lead to the release of life-saving retroviral drugs some five years later. Herb and Gwen visit a display of the AIDS Quilt, where they see Kevin’s panel.
Sensing Light’s greatest strength is in the medical history of hiv/aids that it provides. Its weakest features are the elements of fiction: character and plot. Jacobson’s main characters tend to be oversimplified: Kevin, the dedicated, compassionate doctor struggling with Catholic guilt; Gwen, the bright woman who succeeds at work but not at home with her daughter and longsuffering boyfriend; Herb, the wise but emotionally distant Asian. The secondary characters are also thinly developed. The episodic plot relies on the sudden, unexpected revelations that drive TV soap operas: Herb and his wife discover their son is gay; the death of Kevin’s father requires him to return to Boston to face family issues; a car accident leaves Herb suffering from temporary amnesia; a sweet, elderly nun contracts AIDS. Some of the doctor-patient interactions seem improbable, especially those involving physician-assisted suicide. Surprisingly, AIDS activists are depicted as foul-mouthed bunglers who do more harm than good. Although Kevin and his lover succumb to AIDS, the novel does not succeed in credibly depicting the experience of people facing this terrible disease.
Despite its flaws, Sensing Light is an admirable attempt to tell the story of the early days of AIDS in America to a generation that did not live through the epidemic. The brisk storyline keeps things moving along, and Jacobson is adept at describing medical procedures, hospital hierarchies, and scientific research in terms that lay readers will understand. For those of us who lived through the epidemic, Sensing Light is a reminder that we survivors must not forget those who were here, suffered, and are now long gone.
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Daniel Burr, a frequent contributor, lives in Covington, Kentucky.
