Michael Hartwig’s OUR ROMAN PASTS, a journey through both time and culture, pays meticulous attention to every detail, separating the valves of the narrative with decadent interludes. As a result, the reader is walked through the protagonist’s daily routines with no real sense of urgency, but is, therefore, able to breathe in the same sultry air as Julian, observing the desired compression of muscle in another’s body with the same deep reverence. What’s more, sights and smells are offered their own indefinite texture and taste, making the central seduction a sensory delight. One truly remarkable aspect of OUR ROMAN PASTS is the author’s portrayal of the process of artistic creation. Bruno’s brushstrokes slither and glide across the page, allowing the object of his obsessive gaze to not only be sketched in the reader’s mind, but become fully fleshed out. Because of this, Rome’s ambiance is expressed almost physically, and its streets become a reflection of the pathways of Julian’s mind. And so, with the complexity of the story hinging on the overlapping of romantic pasts, the novel becomes a compelling enticement of both the mind and the body. This is crucial, as its pervasive theme is one of sexual fluidity and the endless process of contracting and stretching the limits of one’s identity. However, while fascinating in its early stage of conception, this issue is approached with a surprisingly dispassionate air.
Hartwig reflects on art, humanity and creation. He takes the moment apart and realigns its edges. But because of their logical form, profound thoughts take on the cadence of a speech, not a polarized discussion. Impulse and attraction are frequently rationalized, through both deed and dialogue, giving the story a more sedated, tamed quality. Rather than passion, it chooses the split between thought and carnality as its guiding light. While not necessarily displeasing, this move is a little surprising. Still, the prose itself is subtle, imbued with the softly lapping setting; a tenderness that echoes the delicate state of Julian’s susceptibility. The last part of OUR ROMAN PASTS twists itself around its middle, offsetting the balance of the characters’ interests, subverting their desires. The addition of an unforeseen threat makes Julian’s final strive for joy a painful thing to witness, but one that is especially compelling. Its resolution could be called somewhat naïve, as could Bruno’s changing convictions, but the novel’s overall aura is maintained throughout.
In OUR ROMAN PASTS, Michael Hartwig blends sense with sensuality, proving how vital the story’s setting can be when attempting to hem its narrative. With emotions given the same pulse as the bodies they possess, Hartwig pens a palpable tale of desire and its consequence.
~Neil Czeszejko for IndieReader