“The master’s touch in storytelling…”--Publishers Weekly
“The godfather of modern popular gay fiction.”--Thomas L. Long, editor in chief of The Harrington Gay Men’s Literary Quarterly
“A national treasure.”--Drewey Wayne Gunn, editor, The Golden Age of Gay Fiction
“In Victor J. Banis we find a new cultural hero.”--David Bergman, author of The Violet Hour
“Spend some time with Victor J. Banis--you’ll be so glad you did!”--Ann Bannon, author of the Beebo Brinker Chronicles
“Victor J. Banis could be called a gay literature pioneer, a trailblazer. I just call him a damn good storyteller.”--Rick R. Reed, author of The Blue Moon Cafe and VGL Male Seeks Same
“One of the Grand Old Men of Gay Fiction.”--William Hewitt, professor of gay studies at Westchester University
“...Victor J. Banis is one of my favorite authors, both for the vivid characters he creates and for his flawless prose, and in A Man Of Principle, he does not disappoint. From the first paragraph I was drawn to this nameless elderly man, and could feel his loneliness and need. With a few well-chosen brushstrokes, the author paints a complete and compelling portrait of a man with not much to look forward to--someone who is waiting for something, and who perhaps spends his time savoring his past like his single malt. With equal skill, he creates a younger man who is running from his past, a past that he can’t really run from. As the story unfolds, these two personalities bond in a unique way that is both touching and sad. This story made me do something I seldom do: after reading the last word, I flipped back to the beginning and read it again--not for more clarity, but for the pleasure of a simple yarn told with skill and passion. Banis’s gift at crafting short stories is humbling. Take away one word and there is loss, take away any sentence and the beauty is diminished. This is not a story he whipped together in a day or two. It takes talent and patience to produce this kind of quality. This is a story I can highly recommend.”--Alan Chin, Gay/Lesbian Fiction Book Reviews
“4.5 Rating!...When I pick up a work by author Victor J. Banis...I do know that I'm going to enjoy the process of discovery. Mr. Banis consistently delivers excellent writing, intriguing and original story lines, and characters who are so real that you can almost hear them breathe. His short story, A Man Of Principle, is no exception...A compelling read...Mr. Banis’s prose is spare and to-the-point, with a cadence that makes the narrative flow effortlessly, almost musically. I find it both easy and pleasurable to read. A Man Of Principle has an element of suspense to it that is truly attention-grabbing.”--Bobby D. Whitney, Book Wenches
“...Once again Victor Banis manages, in a very few pages, to create characters that left me with a strong sense of being there, although thankfully only as an eavesdropper...It’s very nicely constructed and delivered and Victor Banis remains, in my estimation, an author who can do no wrong. Fascinating and varied are his stories and A Man Of Principle is definitely illustrative of that.”--Kathy K., EBook Addict Reviews
“...This short tale is extremely well balanced, full of suspense and simple in its drama...”-- Elisa Rolle, Elisa Rolle’s Journal
“A 5-Star Read!...A master storyteller spins a masterful story...I’ve enjoyed Victor Banis’ stories for a long time now, and I’m happy to say that this is a worthy addition to his growing collection of wonderful stories. I loved this story, I read it three times in succession in about thirty minutes. For a story to have such an impact in such a short amount of time, shows what an amazing author Victor is. I recommend this it wholeheartedly and I have a feeling that I will pull it out from time to time when I want to revisit a character that truly chilled me in a way one has ever before.”--Cole, Reviews By Jessewave
...He had shed his jacket when we came in, and now he started to unbutton his shirt, and paused to look a question at me. “Is this all right? I can sleep in my clothes if you’d rather.”
“I’m afraid you’d look awfully rumpled for your flight,” I said. “As a matter of fact, I’m going to put on a robe.” I went into the bedroom and when I came back, he was sitting bare-chested on the sofa, with the blanket discreetly covering his lap. He appeared to be deep in thought.
“You look like a man with something on his mind,” I said.
He glanced up at me, once again in that weighing manner. “I haven’t talked to anyone in a long time. Really talked, I mean.”
“I’m a good listener.”
He thought about that. I thought he’d decided against telling me anything, and then quite unexpectedly, he began to speak.
“I hope you didn’t think I was rude, back at the bar,” he said, “spelling out that I’m not gay.”
“It’s usually just as well to get those things settled. I didn’t mind.”
“I’m not homophobic, really. My best friend, Jack, was gay. We were kids together, spent our whole lives as buddies. Some people thought we fooled around, but the funny thing is, it never came up. He lived his way and I lived mine.”
“Where is he now?”
“Dead,” was the abrupt answer. He went silent again, briefly, and then he added, “In a plane crash, a couple of weeks ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear it.”
“When it happened, I blamed myself. I stayed drunk for three days.”
“I don’t see how you could be to blame for a plane crashing.”
“It was my fault he was on it.”
I couldn’t think of anything to say to that, and I didn’t try. He sat for a long while, staring off into space. I thought he might even have forgotten I was there. Then he gave a great sigh, and shoved aside the blanket. He was wearing boxers. I don’t think he meant the gesture to be provocative. I doubted he was even conscious of it. He seemed to have far more serious things on his mind.
“I’ve really wanted to tell someone…” he began, and stopped.
The urge to confess is a strong one, and it affects people in different ways. The Catholics have it easy that way, I think, but I have a notion that even the hardest of criminals feels the need to unburden himself to someone. Ideally, someone nonjudgmental.
“Look, we’re perfect strangers,” I said. “You’ll be gone tomorrow and we almost certainly will never see one another again. I can’t imagine what harm it could do if you wanted to talk about whatever is bothering you. And nothing you say will go beyond this room, if that’s any assurance.”
“It is.” He looked frankly at me then. “I killed someone...”