The holiday season is that time of year when favorites and least-favorites come to mind more often than any other time of year. I look forward to a visit from my favorite aunt, my favorite ornament surfaces for its annual display, and I’m likely to pay several visits to my favorite store. I’m also reminded of my least favorite gift (and somehow remember exactly when and from whom I received it), that least favorite New Year’s Eve I arrived at home on the verge of tears, and my least favorite Christmas carol.

Before I continue, I should put my friend and fellow Epinions reviewer(jackai)’s mind at ease first and proclaim that The 12 Days of Christmas (his write-off theme, for which I was chosen to contribute on this SIXTH day) is NOT my least favorite Christmas carol.

I actually have two favorites in mind when I think about the holidays--food and family (which, of course, includes friends), whereas, my two all-time favorite things to do are read and write. In an attempt to somehow combine all favorites and have them relate to our write-off theme, I’ve decided to recommend Jim Grimsley’s Comfort and Joy--the perfect holiday recipe for disaster.

Find two males, ranging in age from late twenties to early thirties, living in Atlanta.

Call one Ford McKinney, and make him a twenty-something, third generation physician (in training). Add good looks, wealth, and a conservative upbringing. Oh, and a dash of self-hatred (or, depending on your preference, ‘closet case’).

Call the other Dan Crell; he can be thirty-something, aged ever so slightly more than Ford, with a lower-than-lower class background. Sprinkle him with equal portions of pride and shame. Have him work as an administrator in the same hospital as Ford. For good measure, make him openly gay, a hemophiliac, and HIV positive. Oh, and he can sing...really sing.

Mix these two ingredients together and serve to family during the holidays with generous helpings. While this may sound like the same old formula with a familiar smell and taste, the outcome of this holiday treat deserves more than just a morsel of praise.


Ford first sees (or hears, rather) Dan during a Christmas concert performance at the hospital where he is studying to be a pediatrician. He continues to admire Dan from afar, faking relationships with both men and women—-all the while hating himself for being gay, lying to his parents, and not having the courage to approach him. An unfortunate bus accident involving children leaves Ford scrambling for bed space at the hospital, so he seeks the help from administration, and the two finally speak. He later sees Dan in the cafeteria, sits across from him, thanks him for his help, and admits that the accident isn’t the real reason he came over to talk to him. After a few sentences of conversation, sparks fly and they arrange to meet for dinner. A day later, Ford’s conscience (or shame or denial, take your pick) gets the best of him and he leaves Dan a note to cancel their date.

Ford returns home to spend Christmas in Savannah with his parents and college-age sister, Courtenay. His mind, on the other hand, remains in Atlanta, fraught with guilt over canceling on Dan. Ford’s temperament only worsens as his parents and sister incessantly pester him about his romantic life (or lack thereof). Before returning home to Atlanta, Ford decides to tell Courtenay about his attraction to men (never using the word ‘gay’).

Soon thereafter, Ford and Dan begin a turbulent courtship. With his busy schedule, Ford finds it difficult to get enough rest and still keep Dan from feeling ignored. Dan, meanwhile, tries to find a place in Ford’s world—-a formidable task considering he abhors any public display of affection, he continues to refrain from using the word ‘gay,’ and won’t admit who Dan really is to family, friends, and colleagues. The two agree that moving in together will somehow, magically, solve all their problems. Ford becomes comfortable enough to share the news with his parents that his new roommate and he share more than a room and the rent. His father refuses to speak to him, and while he continues to make idle chatter with his mother, she won’t admit the truth about her son to herself.

When the reader is first introduced to this couple, they have already been living together for a few months. Christmas is approaching, and they have decided to spend it with Dan’s family in Forrester County, North Carolina (outside of Raleigh-Durham). Dan’s father is dead, and his mother, Ellen, is remarried to his stepfather, Ray. On the drive in, Dan asks Ford to stop along the way, in the town where he grew up. Upon Dan’s arrival at the house (abandoned and practically condemned) where he was born, the reader finally learns, however vaguely, that his childhood was anything but pleasant. A few other details hang in the air (an estranged brother, Duck, calls Christmas morning; Ford tells Ellen that Dan doesn’t talk about his dad much; Amy, Dan’s sister, is almost ashamed to admit to Dan that she visited their father’s grave earlier in the day), until Dan’s mother confesses to Ford that her children’s father was a violent drunk. In spite of the morbid reminders of home (in addition, Dan’s youngest brother, Grover, is buried in the yard), the occasion is relatively joyous and family members take a liking to Ford. Not only does he feel welcome but he also begins to better understand Dan’s thick (albeit metaphorically) skin.

The two return to Atlanta having decided they will surprise Ford’s parents. Without giving away everything, it should suffice to say that it doesn’t go over very well.

I first read Comfort & Joy a few years ago shortly after it was first released, and I rarely go back and read books a second time. Yet I remember this book having a profound enough affect on me that when I was asked to contribute to this Christmas-theme write-off, it was the first item that sprang to mind (and well worth the second read).

Grimsley has created remarkably, almost unbelievably believable characters. Throughout the bumps in the road of their relationship (which are far from over when the story is), they never forget that they belong together.

It is a reminder to even the most cynical reader that the holidays are a time to take comfort and joy in the happiness of those around you, especially when your time together is limited to a few days near the end of each year.


Recommended: Yes