I absolutely loved the first two books in the "Tales of the City" series. "Further Tales" was more difficult for me to get into and care about the characters. However, once I did get into it, I was rooting for the characters (especially Mary Ann, DeDe, Brian and Mouse). The last part of the book was very suspenseful, especially the "Bambi-in-the-basement" scenario. All in all a very entertaining and suspensful book which, like the second book, made me cry in some places.

I'm trying to find people I can discuss these books with!

Here the Author mixes the lives of his somewhat evolved personae (Mary Ann now almost a TV celebrity,Michael matured, but no less charming) whit the social and cultural evolution of the times, and whit one of the most horrible events of late seventies, the Jonesites mass suicide in Guyana. But even so, the Author does not lose his pungent humour and his love for bizarre, uncanny situations ( the strange encounter of Prue whit the man in the shack in the park). I've also missed Jon, former Michael's lover (the reasons for their breakup aren't too clear). But all the same, I've enjoied it like the first two.

"Further Tales of the City" is by far my favorite of the series. It is here that life continues for our characters, but they grow far beyond what has taken place in the last two books, especially MaryAnn.

Here also Maupin, moves forward with his wonderful concept of "chosen family," weaving MaryAnn, Brian and Mouse together as a great example of how workable and tender a "non-traditional family" can be. The price of that family, and that friendship - and standing up for what is right - is high as the book ends, but that only makes it all the more real and satisfying.

Be with your friends of 28 Barbary Lane as innocence is lost in the early 80s just before the Spectre of AIDS his San Francisco in all its fury. It is a time and place that can - unfortunately - never come again.

After watching the series on cable, I decided to see if "the book is better". I was not disappointed. The quirky characters brought to the small screen were even more enjoyable on paper. From the elusive Anna Madrigal to the shy MaryAnn, Amistead Maupin brings his wonderful stories to readers who could not get enough after one season. The continuing saga of the residents of Anna Madrigal's Barbary Lane residence and the "supporting players" will entrance readers and make them want to read every book in the series as soon as they can get their hands on each volume. A must-read for anyone looking for an adventure into 1970's San Francisco and the ground-breaking work of Amistead Maupin.

A mix of politics and history, this volume comprises four essays, along with 15 shorter, first-person pieces by activists who recall key moments of the struggle for gay and lesbian rights and visibility. Published as companion piece to a documentary on the lesbian and gay movement since 1969, the book is more informal, more eclectic, and better illustrated than an academic study, but more serious and substantial than the usual coffee-table volume. The voices it highlights tend to be those associated with "gay liberation" and big-city street activism, but the richness and authenticity of those voices make this book a valuable chronicle.

A short story's worth of material stretched laboriously into novel length, Maupin's The Night Listener failed to involve me on anything but the most basic level. Protagonist Gabriel Noone, an obvious stand-in for Maupin himself, comes across as rather pathetic as he clings to his jerk of an ex-lover Jess and fights with his stereotypically cantankerous and ignorant father. A little light comes into his life in the form of 13-year-old Pete Lomax, an obvious stand-in for "A Rock and a Hard Place" author Anthony Godby Johnson, whose harrowing tale of sexual abuse and AIDS touches Gabriel deeply. Considering that he is supposed to be the heart and soul of the book, Pete is given surprisingly little to do other than Suffer Grandly. The question of whether or not he actually exists is introduced much too early in the story, abandoning the promising idea of teen-aged Pete imparting wisdom onto fiftysomething Gabriel in favor of a good old Maupin-style mystery.

Now few authors can touch Maupin in inspiring an "OK, just one more chapter" response (this book is a FAST read), but that response seems somewhat inappropriate considering the weight of the material here. It feels as if Maupin is falling back on what he knows he can do instead of allowing the story to unfold naturally. What we are left with is a book that tries too hard to be both wise and readable, leaving us with insights that just aren't very insightful and a story that is oddly lightweight.

In real life, by the way, Anthony Godby Johnson's identity was eventually confirmed, which opens up several interesting sociological and psychological questions about why it was ever doubted. Answering those questions may have made for a much more interesting book.

This is the first book of Armistead Maupin's that I've read and it is a beauty! A friend loaned it to me and, although I was very busy with other business stuff, I started reading and could not put it down until I finished 10 hours later. It is that compelling. If you want specific plot points, there are lots of reviews here that tell them, but I advise against trying to find out too much about this book before you jump into it. The story revolves around Gabriel Noone a famous novelist and radio personality, as famous as...well, as famous as Armistead Maupin. He is a very complex "hero:" strong, talented, charming, generous and yet very psychologically needy, unable to see that his faults could be as damning as those that he finds in his friends and family. All of the characters, even the ones who appear only briefly, are fully drawn and fascinating, from the author's boyfriend, Jess, searching for his own identity after leaving his Love of ten years, to the author's bookkeeper Anna: smart and funny, charming and terribly devoted to her boss whom she thinks could be going off the deep end. We also meet Noone's Southern racist father whom Maupin makes much more complex than just an easy target for liberals and his stepmother, Darlie, who is an ex-schoolmate of Noone's and only one year apart from him in age. The two major characters besides Noone, who tells the story, are a terminally ill 13 year old boy, Pete, and his adoptive mother, Donna. How they figure into Noone's life and how they change his life is what makes the novel so very moving. They are strangers to him and yet make him re-think each and every one of his major relationships. There are surprises, literally, in every chapter--strange twists that one could not possibly see coming: the style of the novel, itself, changes from a kind of roman a clef to a gothic thriller worthy of a Stephen King and back again. Early in the book, an editor/acquaintance of Noone's describes Pete's writing with "He'd use a ten-dollar word when a ten-cent one would do." Unfortunately, I find this to be true of Maupin. There were many times in this otherwise first rate novel that I'd have preferred not to be manipulated with "ten-dollar words." Also, although I understand the shock on the very last page, it left me unsatisfied. All in all, though, this is a wonderful book which deserves as wide an audience as possible. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED.

A hard book to categorize--part mystery, part love-story, part semi-demi-memoir...Gabriel Noone is a media personality (like Maupin) from a good Southern family (like Maupin) who has mined his personal life shamelessly for material (like Maupin), but while everything in this novel may have a grain of truth, at the same time none of it is true, because all of it has been touched with artifice, which is what Maupin (and Noone) are brilliant at. So the intricate spiralling revelations of the plot (is Gabriel's partner really leaving him? When will we get to meet the prepubescent author of a disturbing new book which Gabriel has been asked to blurb?) are never quite what we expect. We are manipulated by the storyteller into believing, and then restructuring our beliefs, and it's a wonderful ride...Sometimes sad, frequently comic, with cameo appearances by minor characters from his other books, I admire this novel greatly. Direct-but-unpreachy commentary on the nature of love and commitment and creativity, and some memorable metaphors...Great characters, evocative descriptions (I recognize those streets in San Francisco, don't I? I've met some of the people in the Castro, haven't I? I've driven that highway in Wisconsin, right?) and a twisty, tricky plot which keeps the pages turning.

Quite good, engrossing and engaging. I personally enjoy novels told in the first person, if that narrator is interesting and has a unique voice. Gabriel Noone/Armistead Maupin is certainly that narrator.

Tales of the city was pleasant. each successive book is furhter down the scale of quality. HOw did this get published?

Okay, a lot of people will feel let down and betrayed by this final installment of the series. I was! So I went back and re-read the entire series just to get a perspective on the characters without getting sidetracke by the plot twists. In hindsight, you can see the logical conclusion to each of Maupin's characters, especially Mary Ann. This is the woman who left Cleveland and jumped into the mainstream to get ahead in life. Here she is, doing it again! What really baffles me is Mona's fate . . . but then again, Mona was always an enigma to me. Throughout the series, the writing has always been true and outrageous. You won't regret the time you spend with these folks at 28 Barbary Lane. Bravo Mr. Maupin!

Okay...I adored Mary Ann. I adored her for years. When I moved to NYC, I was given all six Tales of the City books as a present. I would read them and immediately recognize myself as sort of the little lost lamb. For five books, I loved her. Now I hate her. How could you make me hate her?!?!? But I am so glad you did...made me take another look at her and what she is supposed to be made of. However, I think the most enduring person is Anna Madrigal. Finally finding love in Greece (she predicted it in an earlier book) and Mona coming back after being gone for so long. Sigh....it's not the best of the bunch but the door is left opento pick up for a seventh installment...just to see if Mary Ann gets her comeuppance.

Yet another series of adventures for the delightful characters that populate Maupin's books, this time with a bittersweet twist: the reality of AIDS. Because Maupin's Tales of the City books are generally so lighthearted, zany and playful, when the story opens with Michael mourning his lover, it hits pretty hard.

Despite the slight bittersweetness, this installment of the series features all of Maupin's signature flourishes and his wonderful sense of humor.

If your looking for light, breezy stories and likable characters you couldn't find anywhere but San Francisco, then buy this series of books and get started reading. You'll quickly get addicted. For those of you San Franciscans past and present who've never read Maupin, he's worth a look. If nothing else his books will make you remember why San Francisco was once such an interesting and fun place to live and what's sorely missing from it today!

When I picked up "Babycakes," I was on a happy high. I'd learned there was more than just the three "Tales" books with the characters I'd met and loved from the "Tales of the City" trilogy. I was all ready to jump into that delightful care-free world (albeit a little reticent to bump into something like Jim Jones again, who showed up in "Further Tales of the City" and is the only disbelief I was unwilling to suspend).

However, staying true to the reality of the movement and the 80s, I found AIDS, death, decay and the long slide down from the fun and energy from the first three books. I didn't mind, though it was a bit of slap in the face, and the death of a major character to AIDS before the book even begins was a real punch in the stomach.

Put simply, Maupin drove home, hard, how vivid the change was for those who had existed in the care-free seventies, who found themselves suddenly trapped in the shallow, AIDS-ridden eighties.

The characters are back in full company, with the death of one major character, and the introduction of a few others. The story still focuses mostly around Michael and Mary Anne to my mind, but the rest of the "Tales" folk are definately along for the ride. The topics darken up a bit, and reality is definitely in play this time. I reccommend it, but with the warning that you're not getting the same care-free tone of the "Tales" trilogy - for the seventies are over.

The late, great SF Chronicle columnist Herb Caen coined the term Baghdad by the Bay for the city that captured his heart, San Francisco. And Armisted Maupin peopled his Tales of the City series (first serialized in the Chronicle in 1976) with a huge assortment of eccentric, quirky, diverse characters that capture your heart and keep you reading, reading, reading even when you know you should have turned off the light hours ago. Babycakes, in which ambitious Mary Ann (the wide-eyed innocent from the Midwest through whose eyes we earlier came to see an ingenue's view of live and love in the City) has a baby, was the first work of fiction to recognize the scourge of AIDS in SF.
Drop dead funny, bittersweet, and enchanting, Babycakes dangles intricate and outrageously interwoven plot threads in front of the readers, and it all just makes you want more, more, more.

This book works as an entertainment, but as a research book it trips itself by not indexing everyone and everything mentioned in the body of the text. For example, check out the "Robert Mapplethorpe and Jack Fritscher" connection --as well as San Francisco's own Gay-Bay "Drummer" magazine itself-- all on page 134, and then try to find these two people and that singular magazine in the index. This is just one instance of sloppy indexing and sloppier scholarship that mars this volume,and the integrity of the editors--at least to this anal-retentive buyer of historical books. The two editors seem asleep at the wheel, relying on researchers who lack an overview. They should have paid attention. Armistead Maupin in his superficial introduction takes the usual cheap, gay potshot at Judaism and Christianity for the woes suffered by lesbigay culture, when he could have done so much more with the opportunity of the two pages to theorize/talk about the actual Gay-Bay culture itself. Obviously, his name is exploited as an advertising device for a kind of cover "endorsement".