
THIS BOOK wrecked me emotionally. It’s the only novel where after reading a harrowing, heart-wrenching chapter, I went to my husband and genuinely cried. I’m not a naturally sappy person, so to have read something that caused that kind of deep, guttural reaction in me is a powerful thing.
The Return is told in the present day and in flashbacks from the 1980s. The connections between the young gay men of the 80s (Stanton, the love of his life, ‘Hutch,’ or Chris, and their small, close-knit group of friends) and Topher and his small, close-knit group of friends/ bandmates transcend probabilities in the most unique and special way. Both groups of friends have their share of laughs, love, successes, and problems. The profound, complicated relationships in this novel—and in the “Austin Series” as a whole—are so effective they have never left my mind.
I feel I know these characters as people. Boney’s writing is efficacious in its desire to be relatable to the reader even if they have never experienced any of his characters’ feelings, situations or traumas–or even if they are a queer reader. That said, the queer/gay experience of these men is especially profound to those of us who have felt these feelings, have embraced their unique tribe of people and, sadly, experienced loss due to HIV and AIDS.
The rise of HIV and AIDS in the ’80s flashback scenes is rendered with such rawness and honesty that it feels less like reading and more like bearing witness. The way it devastates that group—slowly, relentlessly, unjustly—destroyed me. There is no softening of the losses, no sentimental distance; the grief is intimate and suffocating, and that is precisely why it lands with such power. The novel captures not only the physical toll of the epidemic, but the emotional wreckage it leaves behind: the stolen futures, the loves cut short, the quiet terror of watching an entire community fade while the world looks away.
Out of that cruelty and unfairness emerges the beating heart of the novel’s theme. What a dying Hutch so mysteriously writes to a young, distraught Stanton—“Play the long game”—becomes a lifeline, a philosophy, and a quiet act of defiance against despair. It’s an enigmatic, yet prophetic line that carries the weight of survival, patience, and hope all at once, and it reverberates long after the page is turned. I’m tearing up just thinking about it. This novel is as magical as it is heartbreaking, balancing tenderness and tragedy with extraordinary grace. It doesn’t just tell a story; it asks you to feel it, to carry it with you. I can’t recommend this novel enough.

I suggest reading the first novel in the series, The Nothingness of Ben (itself a tour de force that I plan to review at a later date), before diving into The Return, even though this novel functions as a self-contained story. The Austin Series comprises three novels in total, and while each can stand on its own, their emotional and thematic connectivity becomes far more resonant when experienced in order. Character motivations, recurring symbols, and the cumulative weight of loss and reckoning unfold with greater clarity and impact when the reader has that foundation. I reviewed the second novel before the first because of how it affected me on such a visceral level.
The Return is available for purchase on Indigo.ca, Amazon.ca and Amazon.com. For more information about this author, follow Brad Boney on his website bradboney.com, and on Facebook and Twitter.
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