Deep House: The Gayest Love Story Ever Told is a memoir like no other. It explores the love story of Lin and his (unnamed) partner (now decades together), interwoven with meticulous research, with the Defense of Marriage Act serving as backdrop in their relationship. This memoir is politics-heavy, albeit accessible, and sexy. Very sexy.

Jeremy was twenty-one and living in San Francisco when he met the boy of his dreams on a trip to London in 1996, while exploring the dark corners (rooms) of Europe. The 1980s sexual liberation was at its height, and growing up right after the AIDS crisis meant homosexuals were not seen as role models of anything respectable. In England, gay men were constantly targeted under the Sexual Offences Act 2003, focusing on parks and toilets. The boy Jeremy met, a 20-year-old Brit from Bath, would have been underage if the government had not changed the minimum age of consent from 21 to 18 for men (while it remained 16 for girls until the 1980s). Sex between two men had been partially decriminalised only since 1967 — not long before. When they met, marriage was not a possibility between two men.

Maddeningly in love, they made plans, and the Brit travelled to the USA for the first time.
The novel explores Jeremy's and his partner's love story, alternating with meticulous research on the Marriage Act 2003 and its consequences. President Bill Clinton was in power, and the scandalous Monica Lewinsky affair was the perfect glove slap on the poker face of heterosexual prudes. One would think of England and the USA as socially developed countries; however, only recently have gay men been allowed to get married and retain their spouses’ rights, and I wonder how different things might have been if Clinton had not been cornered by the scandal.

When they met, one could not immigrate without a marriage certificate. Interracial marriage was prohibited in the USA not long ago. When Lin's partner moved to the USA at that time, he became undocumented. The fear of persecution and extradition was ever-present. Simple activities such as working or going to the hospital took on outsized proportions. Lin brilliantly walks through all the political minutiae and key historical events that ultimately culminate in a superb hybrid of memoir and non-fiction, essential reading for understanding gay rights in the USA and UK. My only qualm with this novel is the constant switch between memoir and political analysis. I reckon a short memoir, with a companion volume, could work better, as the reader wouldn't have to readjust their reading mindset every chapter.

Deep House is a grounded queer memoir woven with meticulous research on the many obstacles politics can impose on queer life. It is an important book to anyone wanting more insights into the politics of marital immigration in the USA and UK throughout our recent modern history.

I received an Advance Reader Copy (ARC) of this book from the publisher Penguin Press UK – Allen Lane, Particular, Pelican, Penguin Classics via NetGalley in exchange for an honest and unbiased review. All thoughts and opinions expressed are my own.

I adored this book. It takes two twin narratives- the micro of Jeremy Atherton Lin's relationship and finding himself, set alongside the macro of the fight for equal marriage. In doing so, he weaves together historical struggles for rights, policy change, moving country, and beautifully written love (and sex). It is a testament to his excellent writing skills that he pulls this together so seamlessly.

I received a digital copy of this book from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

American author Jeremy Atherton Lin met his British artist husband (who remains unnamed in the text) 29 years ago, and this memoir about the legal challenges gay couples of different nationalities are facing when they want to build a life together is infused with research about historical court cases, thus illustrating the sinister effects of inhumane (and pointless) laws against ... well: being queer, because you can totally prohibit loving another person! *siiigh* Lin and his partner met in London, and at some point, the partner visited Lin in California, overstayed his visa and thus became an illegal immigrant. This of course put him in a vulnerable position, as he had to live in constant fear of being deported, for instance should he need medical attention or cross state lines. And have I mentioned the sodomy laws that still existed back then?

As the recent re-election of one orange Voldemort shows, circumstances as these still aren't striking some voters as a human rights violations, although the people who are discriminated against are striving to fulfill a very traditional, if not conservative wish: To make a home. Lin dives into legal decisions and reveals the destiny of the people behind court cases that were all about queer people wanting to just exist in peace or to be with a person they loved, and ending up having to justify themselves before a judge. He also compares the thinking behind it with what happened to his parents, an American-Taiwanese biracial couple.

Finally, in 2007, Lin and his partner moved to the UK where they could obtain a civil partnership status, but the text proves in its entirety that the state cannot forbid human empathy, love, and solidarity. As a book about queer domesticity, "Deep House" is closely connected to Gay Bar: Why We Went Out, Lin's book about gay community in public places, adding the angle of the fight for private spaces. The amalgamtion of personal anecdotes and historical research works well, and the idea to address the partner directly, to turn the book into some sort of reverance for him and the love recounted, gives many passages a striking emotional tone.

Slightly too long, but highly informative, well-researched and illuminating.

Deep House is a moving and sharply written memoir that blends personal experience with queer history and political insight. Set in the 1990s, it follows Jeremy Atherton Lin and his British partner as they navigate a love story across borders, identities, and eras of resistance.

The book explores both intimate domestic moments and wider historical contexts, offering snapshots of queer life across cities like San Francisco, Berlin, and London. What stood out to me most was the balance between tenderness and humour. Lin’s voice is reflective, witty, and often quietly defiant.

As a reader who values the preservation of LGBTQ+ history, I found this book incredibly impactful. It highlights the quiet ways love survives during political uncertainty and reminds us of the importance of protecting our rights and stories.

Well researched, lyrically written, and emotionally layered, this is a vital and timely read.

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Reading this book was like listening to a podcast. A real and epic lovestory told with the help of historical milestones in the fight for gay marriage rights.

As a fan of both biographies and romance, I wasn't sure what I was going to find here. But I was pleased to discover that this most excellent work managed to gracefully alternate between the two genres with admirable balance. It had the right amount of facts, told in a way that resembled a conversation with a friend (not just hard cold boring facts out of nowhere) interspersed within a charming tale of two young boys determined to prove that love knows no borders.

Having been an illegal immigrant myself, I could not help but identify with the characters' plight, which only seemed to make them more resolute to succeed. I was perhaps missing a bit more conflict, as they did indeed seem to always get along well and never had any disagreements or second guessing their bold choices (leaving the country to live abroad with somebody you just met, quitting a good corporate job to work on a video club, moving in to share with another couple, etc.).

Such a poignant story told with so much love and tenderness. I could almost feel how much the author adored his partner. We definitely need more books like this. Particularly to remind the younger generation how much did those before them had to struggle and suffer. Especially now that those rights we now take for granted are at risk of being taken away..

Powerful and shocking. Intimate and the want to live out loud. I loved every second of this story, which seems the wrong thing to say given some of the content, but it was a phenomenally powerful read.

I really enjoyed Deep House - an intimate and personal look at Jeremys life and relationship with Famous, woven between the history of gay rights and the fight for marriage equality.

I found it incredibly interesting and shocking in equal measure. I looked forward to picking it up whenever I could.

I liked the writing style and tone, which was succinct and engaging - it was like sitting listening to a friend, and the factual parts were very well researched and punchy. So many couples in love and so many obstacles in their way. I smiled and I felt enraged and I felt deep compassion and empathy.

It couldn't be any more timely considering our current political climate - an essential and important read, with a lot of heart - I learnt a lot. Recommended!

I went into this expecting a heartfelt LGBTQ+ romance (yes, I am that eejit who didn’t clock the nonfiction tag), but what I got was something far more layered—less love story, more socio-political excavation, with Lin pulling double duty as both cultural historian and memoirist.

Set against the backdrop of the 1990s and the fight for same-sex marriage rights, Lin charts his relationship with a British partner while weaving in centuries of LGBTQ+ lives, loves and legal battles. It’s a sprawling love letter that reflects on personal intimacy against the bigger picture of the long, painful and often infuriating struggle for gay rights and marriage equality. A harrowing chronicle of the many injustices inflicted on people seeking only to live and love as they were born to do, with the same dignity and rights as anyone else. It’s ambitious, wide-ranging, and unlike anything I’ve read before.

His writing is sharp and essayistic—punchy little vignettes followed by dense stretches of cultural and legal history. At times, it’s genuinely brilliant; at others, a bit emotionally distant. There’s beauty here, but not tender or sentimental; it’s unapologetic, defiant, and frequently in-your-face. Lin doesn’t so much tell a story as build a rich collage of what it means to exist, love and endure when the system insists you shouldn’t.

While I admired the form and the cleverness of it all, I didn’t fully connect with it on an emotional level—a fascinating, challenging read, but not one that entirely gripped me.

Many thanks to the publisher for the opportunity to read an advance copy via NetGalley. As always, all opinions are my own.

Atherton Lin, as always, writes incredibly about queer culture, politics, and society - this was a great read. However, I think I was expecting it to be a memoir, but it was more a socio-political history of gay marriage, mixed in with his personal life. But of course I was wrong - “the gayest love story ever told” cannot solely be personal; the personal is political. That being said, I really did want to hear more about their relationship - or maybe hear a bit more from Famous’s POV. Maybe I’m really soppy and wanted some more soppy romantic moments, especially towards the end. I think, maybe, I was just more prepared for love than legal history!!!

This book shows a love story set against the backdrop of the fight for marriage equality whilst being deeply personal memoir. Overall their love story unfolds alongside a lineage of queer outsiders who fought for their place in history,

Jeremy Atherton Lin’s Deep House is a sharp, stylish meditation on queer identity, space, and memory. With wit and lyrical precision, Lin weaves personal narrative with cultural critique, mapping gay nightlife not just as escapism but as archive, protest, and performance. He moves seamlessly between the intimate and the analytical—London clubs, San Francisco bars, and fleeting connections become sites of cultural inquiry and emotional depth. Both playful and profound, Deep House offers a fresh, incisive voice that turns subcultural experience into richly layered literature. It lingers, like basslines in the dark.

An truly epic love story and an account of queer history and politics in the US. Such a great read, I will be recommending it to everyone!

This was one of my most anticipated books of the year and it was a lot different to what I was expecting. I really enjoyed the parts showing the relationship and lives of Jeremy and his lover and there were some sharp funny moments within the book. I think it may be entirely my fault that I didn’t enjoy the book as much as I was expecting a fiction read (yes I’m an idiot). However, the book is more fact telling and there was a lot of information relating to the history of gay marriage and just the world being terrible when it came to the views on this.

It wasn’t a bad read and as I mentioned I went in expecting something completely different, but I would have liked to see more experiences and views from the author.

I really enjoyed this book. Having not read any of Lin's previous work, I went in with no expectations.

Why the cover and full title hint toward fiction, this is definitely non-fiction. The style of writing linking personal and intimate memoir with cultural and legislative history relevant to his own life was really interesting and I can't say I've read a book like it.

It's also clear that Lin's writing style is best-suited to essays. His short anecdotes are punchy and brief, with very clear conclusions as to why it's relevant and how it relates to the history he then recounts. And when I say punchy, it's sometimes to the point of really trying to shock his audience. It can be very in your face; he is not subtle.

I can see why this book won't be to everyone's taste. But it's worth it. Give it a try, you might be surprised.

This was a decent book, but could have been executed better. I found it hard to follow at times and thought it read more like non-fiction.

I read Gay Bar and enjoyed that but unfortunately this one was a struggle for me. I abandoned the book at 40%.
I found the prose disordered to read and didn't flow well. The descriptions and conclusions reached felt convolutedand. I was having to force myself to read and eventually gave up. I just couldn't connect with the narrative.

Reading this book I soon realised if you live in America you don't need to have originated from outer space to be classed as an alien. In a wraparound love letter extending across more than four hundred pages the author reflects on his personal love life against the bigger picture of the long, hard, frustrating fight for Gay Rights and same sex marriage. It's an horrific chronicle of a great many wrongs inflicted again and again on people seeking only to live their lives in the way they were born to do and with equal rights to their straight counterparts.
I love the honesty of the intimacy between two consenting partners in a long term but non exclusive relationship. It gives relevance to the problems experienced in years gone by in a biased and bigoted country, a biased and bigoted world. It's poignant, disturbing, illuminating and written with genuine honesty and integrity. One can't help fearing that there is worse to come as several countries shift further to the right and tyrants have control.

After loving Jeremy Atherton Lin's first book, Gay Bar, I was really excited for this. Lin writes from a place of knowledge that never seems overbearing, providing keen-insight into both his personal and political life. In Deep House, Atherton Lin turns his attention from queer spaces to gay marriage, covering several key cases, milestones, and arguments from every side to weigh up the personal and political angles. Overall, the book is touching, and informative. I enjoyed it quite a bit.

I'm a borderline militant queer separatist. I dream of an island of our own. Still, picking a book about marriage might seem like an odd choice, since I really think the thing should be abolished (along with the family, the state, and humanity). But pick it I did, and I never regretted it, because Jeremy Atherton Lin manages to find points de capiton to deftly suture the social to his own body. I kept turning the pages in almost noiresque suspense, impatient to find out how it all ends, while knowing full well how it ends - they get married, marriage is normalized, nothing to see at the end. But historically, there is so much to see: a long, long history of abuse, violence, brutality and, at best, neglect. What awaits us, if recent examples in the UK and US are anything to go by, is more of the same after a very brief respite, and then only for some.