Searching for Gilead
Searching for Gilead
"Searching for Gilead" is a chronicle of love, laughter, and loss. The novel traces the connections between the Compton and Fischer families over three and a half decades. Linked initially by the love affair of two of the sons, Jonathan and Tom, the families' inter-relationships evolve into an intriguing web.
Below the story line runs a series of complex issues: the place of religion in our lives and in the world; injustice in global affairs; the joy and pain of love; threats to the environment; the role of the arts as we try and make sense of the world around us; dealing with the death of loved ones.
Written in an evocative and fast-paced style, the novel thrusts the reader from the first page into the dynamic lives of the characters and never lets up. At times witty and comic, and at times poignant and shocking, the story traverses the globe from Toronto to Venice, from New York to Nairobi, from Geneva to Marrakech.
"Searching for Gilead" is a thought-provoking and totally engaging read.
Excerpts from Searching for Gilead
Jonathan let go of my hand as we passed through the wrought iron gate and walked up the semi-circular drive. A massive limestone portico extended from the front door. He rang the doorbell. Who rings
the doorbell and waits to be let in to their parents' home? I wondered. It was an important clue. The door opened, and Mrs. Compton, martini in hand, smiled.
Her hair, pulled back from her face, was wrapped in an elaborate pillbox creation on top of her head, adding to her already imposing height. Miniature pearl earrings and a necklace complemented her flawless skin, a surprising amount of which was visible above the deep V-neck of her black silk dress. I hoped that thinking of her as Mrs. Compton would repress the usual facetious streak in my conversation. I reminded myself not to comment on her Sunday afternoon libation.
"Darlings!" A composite salutation. What has Jonathan told her about me? We stepped into the vestibule, and Jonathan gave his mother a peck on the cheek. "Mother, I'd like you to meet Tom Fischer. Tom, this is my mother, Margaret Compton." She leaned over and tilted her head to the side.
I mimicked my boyfriend's kiss on her cool-as-ivory cheek. She straightened up, looked into my eyes, smiled again, and turned to lead us into the living room. Not a drop of vodka spilled. Jonathan gave my baby finger a little squeeze. So far, so good.
"Walter. Jonathan and Tom are here," she called out quite naturally. "I'll be right out," a gruff voice responded from another room. The living room oozed old money. A large oil pastoral scene in an ornate gesso frame dominated the wall over the open fireplace. It looked like an early Turner.
I thought I'd try to surreptitiously check it out later. It looked like I would have a great deal of sleuthing to do. Intriguing art hung on every wall, hanging from old European masters to an impressive Rothkoesque painting over the sofa. The principal seating was of the oversized, large-armed variety, upholstered in a soft taupe. A massive oriental carpet covered the floor. It would have been overbearing in most rooms, but the size of the Compton living room accommodated it with ease.
Margaret saw me studying the rug. "Do you like it?" she asked. "Walter and I bought it in Tangiers on our honeymoon. It's more than a hundred years old. It's called a kingdom carpet because it was made for one of the royal family members. The Moroccan royal family, that is," she said, smiling. "All the patterns mean something in Arabic culture.
The salesman did explain them to us. He took us through this absolutely lovely tradition of sitting on the carpet in his store and drinking tea together, a symbol of hospitality, as the carpet was about to change hands. We knew it wouldn't fit in our apartment back home, but we figured that when we came to buy a house to start a family, we'd just have to get one with a room large enough to handle the carpet."
I ventured my first intimacy. "I like your sense of priorities, Mrs. Compton." "Do you now?" she replied noncommittally, and she studied me for a moment. "Mother, don't bore Tom with stories about all your stuff ." I turned toward Jonathan and, with an expression of contrived horror, said, "You call this 'stuff '? Jonathan, am I to assume that you did not inherit your mother's exquisite taste?"
Not missing a beat, he replied, "Well, I chose you, didn't I?" Jonathan bit his lip. Okay, that was way too blatant an endearment, way too soon. The following silence was awkward. I glanced at Margaret. She was looking benignly at the two of us, enjoying our moment of discomfort.
"So, where's my scotch, Margaret?" Walter's robust baritone voice broke into the living room's fragile ambiance, his words slightly garbled because of the smouldering cigar clenched in the corner of his mouth...
Dad steered the land rover carefully around another pothole and eased it slowly down an embankment into the riverbed that functioned as the main road leading up toward the border. Patricia grabbed hold of the armrest and closed her eyes.
The sun had been beating down on the vehicle with relentless intensity. We would have been farther along by now if it hadn't been for a morning crisis in the clinic that demanded Mom's presence. Dad had intended that we leave at first light. It was now late afternoon. Clearly, we would not make it as far as Dad had planned by nightfall. We were carrying a precious cargo—a small package of provisions for Sittina's mother, who had not had the stamina to make it out of southern Sudan to Kakuma with her daughter.
But the expedition was less to deliver these supplies than to find her and ensure that she was still alive. Sittina had had no news of her mother for quite a while and had grown increasingly panicky. Mom and Dad had promised to make the informal reconnaissance trip some time before but had not been able to extricate themselves from more pressing needs in the camp and in Nairobi. Their intention to take Patricia and me up into southern Sudan provided them the necessary rationale.
For the umpteenth time, I checked my back pocket to reassure myself of the security of my passport and visa papers. Dad had arranged for us to gain access into southern Sudan through the Nairobi offices of the New Sudan Council of Churches. The NSCC collaborated with the Sudan Peoples' Liberation Movement, the administrative and diplomatic counterpart to the liberation army, the SPLA.
Mom reached into the glove compartment and pulled a handkerchief out. "Are you okay?" I asked. "Just a bit of dust in my eye." Her muted sobbing said otherwise. I unbuckled my seatbelt and edged far enough forward to place my hand on her arm. "What's wrong?"
Dad glanced at his wife and then said over his shoulder to Patricia and me, "Happens every time we leave camp, a bit of predictable water works." "It's just stupid me," Mom sputtered. Keeping her focus glued to the passing barren landscape, she eventually confided, "I always feel horribly guilty every time we leave the camp."
"What in heaven's sake is there for you to feel guilty about?" Patricia asked. Still looking out her window, Mom said quietly, "I feel guilty because I'm so relieved to be getting out of that stinking, oppressive hellhole. And then I immediately feel awful about all the people I love who are locked in that stinking, oppressive hellhole."
"For God's sake, Mom and Dad, don't you think that it's about time that you came home?" Patricia said. "I agree with her," I echoed, speaking to the back of my parents' heads but looking at my sister. "You have gone far, far beyond the call of duty." "Duty?" Dad shouted. Everyone jumped. "You think our time here has been about duty?" Mom reached across and laid her hand on her husband's trembling arm. "We have been talking about coming home," she said quietly. "But we can't. Not quite yet."
The four of us sat in silence as the Rover bungled along, an occasional loud scraping against the chassis underneath signaling the presence of a rock bigger than Dad had estimated. Suddenly, Dad braked to a stop, rowing us all forward. "What is it, dear?" Mom asked in a totally controlled voice. Dad nodded toward his left. We looked in the direction and saw a cloud of dust speeding toward us.
"You kids just stay calm," he said quietly. "Let me do the talking." "What is it? Who is it?" Patricia demanded. "Shhh," Mom replied. In a few moments, the outline of a jeep came into view. It slowed and pulled past us up on the bank above. Patricia and I craned our heads around and looked out the back window, watching it descend into the gully and ease up behind our vehicle. It stopped. Nothing happened. We waited.
"Oh, Jesus," Patricia whispered. "Are they going to kill us?" "Quiet, dear," said Dad. "Listen to your father. Do as he says," Mom added. Two men in army fatigues stepped out and slowly approached...
Searching for Gilead
Gilead, a mountainous region east of the Jordan River, means "hill of witness." Searching for Gilead is my attempt to give witness to a series of issues with which I am grappling.
I stumbled onto the name Gilead.
The novel is a story of the interrelationship between two families over a period of three and a half decades—a chronicle of love, laughter, and loss.
Below the story line run difficult questions that don't have an easy resolution, for me at least. Some of these questions are personal and existential. Others are global and systemic.
Friends of mine, aware that I had begun working on a novel, asked what it was about. I didn't know how to respond. I started making a list of the problems that I was trying to address in the novel. I played with various words that would describe those issues. I was looking for an acronym, a shorthand way to capture the range of concerns that was coursing through my head and my heart, and then onto the page. What emerged was G-I-L-E-A-D:
- God - issues around spirituality and religion in our lives and in our world.
- Injustice - global inequities in power and conflict over resources.
- Love — a source of joy and pain for us all.
- Environment — threats to the well-being of the Earth and its most vulnerable peoples.
- Arts - the role they play as we seek to make sense of our lives and our world.
- Death - our own, and that of those we love.
I do not mean to imply that what you hold in your hands is an explicit discussion of these issues. It is not. Searching for Gilead is a story. It's just that I am using the story to think through these issues in my own mind.
I began writing what I would come to call Searching for Gilead within weeks of having finished a memoir, August Farewell. The memoir is, obviously, autobiographical. Searching for Gilead is not. What occurs in the novel, related to the main characters' lives, is a product of my imagination.
Those who know me, and those who have read August Farewell, may see a few parallels between my own personal history and the characters and action in the novel. There will be a temptation to read more into those parallels than is warranted. I caution against it. One of the joys that I am discovering about writing fiction is that I get to make things up. And I have.
- God - issues around spirituality and religion in our lives and in our world.
- Injustice - global inequities in power and conflict over resources.
- Love — a source of joy and pain for us all.
- Environment — threats to the well-being of the Earth and its most vulnerable peoples.
- Arts - the role they play as we seek to make sense of our lives and our world.
- Death - our own, and that of those we love.
Reader Reviews
I took your novel “Searching for Gilead" up to my cottage and last week I had a glorious week on my little island all on my own. I pulled out "Searching for Gilead" and sat down for one of those magical times when one can get lost in a novel and its characters…. It was such a pleasure to read "Searching for Gilead," I am still savouring it and wish there were a sequel! Many things conspired to help me relate very personally to the narrative. For one thing my own coming out story, teaching at UofT and my stage in life, having graduated high school in 1975, which put me within a couple of years of your characters. Then there are all those delicious references to Foucault, Mahler, Art, OCA … Your commentary on the development of the ecological crisis and the struggle against not getting cynical or completely discouraged… Well, I can go on! The book is beautifully written and very well edited, and I was turning pages furiously. Thank you for the deep pleasure, the tears it evoked, and the deep thinking it made me do…
Thanks, thanks, thanks…
I met David Hallman at an arts event and, afterwards, realized that I recognized him from somewhere. A quick search led me to his twitter feed and I realized that he was someone I followed, whose inspirational tweets were a breath of fresh air in an at times depressing feed.
He has written both a memoir and this book, a novel, and I decided to tackle the novel "Searching for Gilead" first as I didn't want the "real" Hallman to get mixed up in my mind with his characters in a novel. I very much enjoyed this book, staying up late into the night hoping to finish it.
Something of a family saga, it covers 30+ years of a relationship between two men and their respective families of origin. More than a gay romance, it tackles issues both within and outside of their love for each other. Tom, the narrator, works in international development, mainly through stints with the UN in various countries. While the book verges on the edge of preachy with respect to environmental and developing world issues, it kept my interest. Jonathon, his lover, is a professor at University of Toronto and keeps the home fires burning. Other characters, their siblings and parents, are engaging. The Epilogue, which involves Mahler's Symphony No 2, brought me to tears.
This is a terrific novel. I am recommeding it far and wide. I now look forward to reading Hallman's memoir "August Farewell."
Full disclosure here, I first discovered David G Hallman's writing through my journey to heal after I lost my husband of fifteen years to pancreatic cancer. His book "August Farewell" continues to be a cornerstone in my recovery process. For his strength in writing this work, I sincerely thank Mr. Hallman.
After reading "August Farewell" (and realizing that I have actually read some of his earlier environmental works), I decided to try his debut work of fiction "Searching for Gilead" and am incredibly happy to have done so.
"Searching for Gilead" is a tale of the nearly 35 year relationship between Tom Fisher and Jonathan Compton and the complex relationships between the two families of vastly different backgrounds and values coming together through times of love and inevitable strife. This story carries both families through 34 years of love, laughter, anger and fear and explores how families filled with strong personalities, differing values and ethics can make things work as a single unit in spite of and despite these differences.
Through the decades covered in this book, Mr. Hallman touches on how families steeped in differing conservative values respond to their openly gay sons' relationship and lives together, that despite differing values and ethics people can learn to respect - if not love - one another, how the forces that bind a family together can also tear them apart and how strength is built through adversity. Most of the characters in the Fisher and Compton families are richly detailed and make endearing, if not interesting, support for Tom and Jonathan's journey together.
Upon reading this book combined with some knowledge of the author's personal biography, one cannot help but notice a number of parallels in Tom's life and Mr. Hallman's, including the nearly three and a half decade romance between the protagonist and his partner, a life long focus on environmental issues and how they relate to the Christian faith as well as the struggles with HIV infection (albeit under vastly different circumstances) and the tolls the treatments take on the body as well as handling a partner's illness and convalescence after many years together. These experiences in the book provide a very "human" touch to the character of Tom and make relating to his experiences, strengths and, yes, his weaknesses and failings - an easy task.
In fact, I personally found Tom and Jonathan's relationship to be one of the most honest and human gay relationships I have read. Which is why I suspect there are some glimpses of Mr. Hallman's relationship with his husband written in between the lines. While some of the characters (Patricia in particular) seem to be one dimensional, Mr. Hallman makes you care deeply for the "characters" in both the Fisher and Compton families. My only regret in this book is that I would have liked to see greater detail in regards to the characters of Jeremy and Carolyn - as there is a very compelling story behind these two flawed and complex individuals.
Thank you, once again, Mr. Hallman for sharing your gift as an author with us.
All of us contain Music and Truth, but most of us can't get it out. - Mark Twain
David,
Just wanted to say what a lovely and thoughtful book you've written in Searching for Gilead. Hard to believe a first novel could be so powerful. (And comprehensive!) It started off reminding me a bit of Michael Cunningham's early family novels, then Edmund White's The Beautiful Room Is Empty, and finally it veered off into something like Susan Minot's Evening. (But without being derivative.) I enjoyed how you wove the Mahlerian themes in (I'm a Mahler fan too.)
Your writing is very smooth and pleasurable to read.
Best,
Jeff
HELLO DAVID,
I just want to commend you after having the pleasure of reading "Searching for Gilead."
I COULD RELATE TO SO MUCH of it and enjoyed the insights on international work of solidarityand what it takes to struggle against opposite world views.
At the same time I felt enriched by a very humane account of a gay relationship and its ups and downs.
Thank you once again for your work, I felt it to be a very positive contribution to us gay people.
Family, as a clever therapist once said, is the final frontier.But family is more. If one thinks about it, we each have our own particular family. My family isn’t my brother’s nor is my sisters’: all three of my siblings lived in different families, given their own psychologies and their own experiences.
SEARCHING FOR GILEAD is a powerful reminder that every family is prey to its own secrets, each in its own way, echo of Tolstoy’s aperçu about happy families all being alike but unhappy ménages each agonizing in its own way.
And in this well-turned novel, what begins as a fault line at once separating and uniting two families drawn together by the love affair of their gay sons, Jonathan and Tom, becomes, in Hallman’s skilled hands, an examination of the fault lines within each of us.
The heart is a divided organ; sorrow is everywhere you look. But family is our one shelter against the storm, gay or straight, broken or healing, lost or found. And as SEARCHING FOR GILEAD makes delicately human, in an appassionata of a finale, the whole mad structure of our families turns on two elements of love, interwoven just as Tom and Jonathan’s lives are: gratitude and forgiveness, leavened, when our better angels connive, by laughter.
SEARCHING FOR GILEAD is far too honest and too passionately engaged to be a mere novel of ideas. Its magic lies in making subtly clear that even as time steals our lives, time also mercifully gives us the chance to forgive, to lend meaning to our joys and sorrows and those of the people we love. And, as in so many scenes in SEARCHING FOR GILEAD set at a table where conversations have strange turnings and sudden trapdoors...what else is there but love and laughter?
I started reading "Searching for Gilead" and became so entrenched in the story that I ended up sitting in the bathtub until it was cold in order to see what would happen! The characters and connections in the novel are so intriguing you can't help but be pulled into the story. Whether in the tub or elsewhere!!
Tragedies have a way of laying bare entire groundswells of raw emotions and long-simmering hurts that can knock the stuffing out of you, but such moments of turmoil can also, in an un-Disney kind of way, succeed in casting a brilliant light on the staying powers of unconditional love and loyalties, the fibre of all enduring relationships. That's what transpires in "Searching for Gilead."
Jonathan and Tom fall in love. They make the requisite introductory pilgrimages to their respective families. They travel the globe. They seek out adventures (or adventure finds them). And these two men take you, the reader, with them. "Searching for Gilead" is not a passive read. Sometimes when I'm immersed in a book, I am the observer. I know this. I quite like the safety of such a vantage point. I can put the book down and sleep well. David Hallman, in crafting a variously comic and tragic book as this, messed up my sleep, for he has crafted characters whose thoughts and emotions – which range from sunny to shitty -- resonate with mine, and they will with yours. His characters are lightning rods. Emotions ping. There's a bewitching connectivity between Hallman's characters (not just Tom and Jonathan, but their complicated and complex families) and the reader. Empathy renders you part of the drama. Their family dramas (and gut-wrenching they are) and lovers' spats mirror yours. These lads, whether through their intimidating intellect or at their bitchy best, will stir your emotions, perhaps unsettle you for a bit.
Hallman has conjured up the book–world equivalent of audience participation.
David,
This afternoon was a perfect gray day to finish your book. What a beautiful and satisfying read. Yes, you did it again! I fell in love with all of your characters. I fell in love with their weaknesses and their strengths... with their humanity. I know it’s a good book for me when I feel intimate with the characters as though they were my own family, as though, by some magic, their shared history had become a part of my history. Tom's final "I love you" was so powerful as were the words leading up to that point as he spoke of love and memory. I'm still tingly all over. :) A book like this is a real gift to all who read it. Thanks for sharing your story with me. I hope there are more in the works!
The very best,
James Fiege, Toronto
Dear David,
I've just now finished reading "Searching for Gilead", and of course, once I got into it, I found it hard to put down. I was thrilled, of course, to see the Taskforce on the Churches and Corporate Responsibility mentioned in a novel! You wove the environmental and human rights issues you (and the churches) have been addressing for so many years into the fabric of a really good story. The depth of your own interactions with the governmental and corporate actors involved clearly contributed to the story's authenticity. I also appreciated the beautiful descriptions of art and music. In particular the last chapter in conversation with Mahler's symphony was brilliant and moving. Thank you!
All the best,
Moira Hutchinson
I have read "Searching for Gilead" — twice in fact. The reminders that it is fiction do not dull the emotional grip of love and loss in relationships: human to human and human with the planet; nor do they hide the fact that you are writing from profound experience as well as generous empathy with the challenging situations of others.
I was pulled into the lives of this couple and their families so strongly that on the first reading I raced ahead with anxiety in times of trouble, scanning for reassurance that all would be well ... and other times you hit me with emotional devastation without warning and reading stopped altogether. The global issues provided gut-wrenching context; even though they held no news for me, I gained new insights from your presentation of multiple perspectives which only increases the challenges behind the scenes over those of which I was aware.
On second reading, I was able to stay with the words, appreciating the almost poetic quality at times in terms of minimum words for maximum message, and savouring the wonderful turns that love can bring.
On a third read, I will be ready to dive into the philosophical and art references to satisfy my academic bent. Had you written a less driving plot with less engaging characters, I could have amused myself with the academic tidbits on the first read. ; )
With gratitude,
Mary Lou Harley
"Fabulous writing. I loved the intersections of family life, politics, music & art. Well done! Great read!"
Hello, David!
My name is Jenn, aka @thejennjenn from Twitter. I haven't written the review yet, so some of what I'm sending in this email may end up in said review.
When I was first pitched Searching for Gilead for review, I was ecstatic that your novel featured gay characters. I haven't read many books featuring gay characters outside of the young adult genre, and most of those books were centered around the theme that being gay is either a big deal or acts as a catalyst for other issues.
I LOVED that your novel was a novel of the human condition whose protagonists "just happened" to be gay. (Not to diminish your characters of course.) Your novel grabbed hold of me in the early pages and didn't let me go until it ended and I was a sobbing mess. I read this book in two incredibly slow sittings, I didn't want it to end. I loved that you covered so many decades. There were so many unexpected twists and turns that kept me engaged from beginning to end, no matter how sad.
I connected to your book on a personal level due to the long distance relationship. I love that they stayed together through many relocations; it gives me hope for my own relationship, or at least makes me calmer. I'm sorry that I can't better articulate how much I loved your book, (yet) I can say that I think reading your book has made me a better person.
Sincerely,
Jenn Ladd - avid reader, book editor, and blogger