Maurice was the first classical book I picked up to read on my own—rather than assigned by a professor—in an embarrassingly long time. However, it was good that I did, as it ended up being one of the most beautiful novels I have had the pleasure of reading. Both heartwarming and heartbreaking, it encompasses such a wide range of emotions that it is impossible to walk away from turning the last page and feel nothing yourself.
The story itself is set in London, in the 1910s, and follows a young man named Maurice (shocking, I know) as he grows up, goes to Cambridge, and starts his career. While at Cambridge, he meets a man named Clive, and the two become fast friends. However, when Clive asks Maurice if he has read Plato’s Symposium (the equivalent of today’s “Hey, do you listen to Girl in Red?”) their relationship transitions to a romantic one. I will not spoil the novel for you, but the plot is filled with so many complex issues—societal expectations, self-repression, heartbreak, romance, hope, and many more. The characters are so nuanced, and the relationships that they have with their own sexualities because of the culture are tragic, highlighting the cruel reality of the era.
While this book is a happily-ever-after, there is context to it that makes it feel more akin to a tragedy. This book was finished in 1914 by E.M. Forster, yet was not published until 1971, after the author had already passed away. Forster could not see his arguably greatest work published because of how the world perceived queer people in the time that he wrote it. The dedication that he gave to the book is just as heartbreaking: “Started in 1913, finished in 1914. Dedicated to a happier time.” A happier time?! I am pretty sure I could hear my heart crack down the middle when I read that.
Similarly, the “Terminal Note” he wrote for this book in 1960, ten years before his death, is also devastating. In it, he states that it was absolutely crucial for his novel to have a happy ending; if there was not one, there was no use in writing it at all. He explains that this is because at least in fiction two men would be able to fall in love and stay that way. This is also what made the book impossible to publish, as in the words of Forester himself, “If it ended unhappily, with a lad hanging from a noose or with a suicide pact, all would be well. But the lovers get away unpunished and consequently recommend crime.”
This book is both an absolutely gorgeous love story and a tragic reminder of the fact of how homosexuality was viewed for a ludicrous amount of time. Even today, the punishment for it is death in twelve countries. So, if someone ever dare ask “Well, why do gay people need pride month? Why do they get an entire month?” This is why. Because, out of all the horrible, depraved things humanity has thought up, the thing people chose to hate was love itself. Because love like the one that Maurice and Alec had was criminalized. Because this book could not even be published until fifty-seven years after it was written. Because even today, people lose their lives because of who they are.
 When reading Maurice, one must never forget that to E.M. Forster, the ending of the novel was a complete fantasy, never something that could be experienced in reality. He died before his novel could ever see the sunshine and he was alive for only three years in which homosexuality was decriminalized in England (with stipulations). Only in remembering this can we truly grasp just how important this novel truly is.
