What you share is what the world keeps of you

Aka why do we still need realistic portrayals of societal homophobia?

This is a book review but it does get a bit - okay, a lot - personal.

In your average contemporary danmei novel, the main characters' sexuality is hardly ever an issue for their family. In Breaking Through the Clouds, Yan Xie's mother is just happy he's no longer single. In various CEO romances, no one can tell the CEO what to do, and the poorer party is either an orphan, or his parents don't care (because they're bad parents, or because they're unrealistically perfect parents). Or it's a no-homophobia AU where legalising gay marriage has magically erased hundreds of years of prejudice.

It's just a fantasy. So why not let this aspect be a fantasy too?

Towards the Sun is a danmei romance that takes its setting seriously. It's about the struggles of an ordinary man when faced with relentless harm from someone far more powerful, and how hard it can be to be different.

Zhang Xiangyang is just an ordinary office worker who happens to be deeply closeted. One who's struggling to save money on a basic salary, revenge procrastinates after a long day by scrolling his socials, who sends money home to his mom, and tells her little white lies so she doesn't have to worry about him.

The turning point comes when he finds out that his ex-boyfriend from university is getting married to a woman and has not disclosed to her that he is gay. Zhang Xiangyang decides to inform her of their past relationship out of a desire to protect her from getting hurt (after finding out that the slimy ex means to deceive her for his own ends). The ex - who is in a position of great wealth and influence - then proceeds to ruin his life. 

Zhang Xiangyang grew up in a small town surrounded by homophobia both casual and societal and fully internalised it, as you would. When we meet him, his shame has crushed him into an adult who has no self-esteem and who has completely isolated himself socially out of fear. When others reach out, he shrinks back out of fear of being found out. He even imitates the homophobia of others in order to fit in, all the while feeling guilty at the betrayal of his own kind. 

He's in a prison of his own making. 

And the worst part is that his fear is proven to be justified. When he's outed, the consequences are severe - he loses his job, struggles to find a place to live, and the rumours follow him even as he tries to rebuild his life. 

As a reasonable, non-homophobic manager explains while firing him, why should she take a risk on someone who could bring her trouble if there are equally good candidates who won't?

All that makes the beginning of the book a hard read, but I persisted because he is also kind and clever and brave and those qualities shine through even when he's being crushed by his secret and even more so when he's outed and all his worst fears come to pass. His journey to accepting his sexuality and gaining confidence and learning to accept the kindness of others and opening himself up to love again is really lovely.  And he never regrets doing good and never stops even though some of the consequences are devastating.

Zhang Xiangyang doesn't want to draw attention. He doesn't need to declare anything to the world. Just to live without hiding or lying, without shame. And by the end of the novel, he's able to do that with confidence and comfort in his own body, with the support of those closest to him. 

The realism of the novel comes through in that Xiangyang struggles and is hurt and hits rock bottom but also everyone is good and bad and inbetween. Xiang Yang's good deeds aren't immediately rewarded but they do come around in the end.

It also has a piercing and surprisingly sympathetic take on the contortions straight men have to go through because of toxic masculinity, the way they are often also hiding and pretending to live up to a societally mandated image. 

But mainly I was struck by how well this novel understood the specific struggle of being a filial queer child.