In her debut novel, Denne Michele Norris, editor-in-chief of Electric Literature, explores the limits—and radical healing possibilities—of queer love. The book opens on the eve of a wedding: Davis, a Black violist, is about to marry his boyfriend, Everett, the son of a close-knit white family whose exuberance and easy camaraderie permeate the air they breathe. Davis has been estranged from his father, a reverend, since he fled his Ohio hometown for New York and has since mostly fallen out with his sister as well. He’s focused on his career in classical music and his relationship with Everett. He has no plans to revisit his traumatic past or his fraught family relationships, until his father’s death forces him to confront everything he’s left behind.
At times, When the Harvest Comes can feel clunky, moving from revelation to revelation without lingering in the characters’ emotional interiority. Occasional short sections from the perspectives of minor characters, including Davis’ sister and Everett’s father, are somewhat jarring and distracting. It’s the steady love between Davis and Everett that carries the book: Their relationship, though not perfect, is the engine at the center of not only their lives, but the novel itself. Norris infuses these characters with so much warmth and tenderness for each other. Every time they interact—whether they’re at a family dinner, at home, having sex or even avoiding conversations they need to have—the depth of Davis and Everett’s love is the loudest thing on the page. It creates a kind of protective spell, and it is within this net of safety and acceptance that Davis begins to unravel not only the wounds of his past, but his dreams and desire for the future.
Though it deals with familial rejection, religious homophobia, grief and the impact that shame and secrets can have on a queer life, When the Harvest Comes is ultimately a triumphant book—an earnest, tender story about the courage it takes to let yourself be seen and loved for exactly who you are.
