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Okay, confession time. I started reading Reinaldo Arenas’ Before Night Falls (affiliate link) months and months ago and promised myself that I’d post about it on socials as my own Queer Book Club. Needless to say, I’m a very slow reader and it took me quite a while to get this book club session started. This memoir has been on my reading list for ages and I’m so glad I read it. Not only did I find it beautifully written but also offers an unflinching, intimate look at gay life under an authoritarian regime.

If you’re a fan of inspiring LGBTQ memoirs that explore resilience, resistance, and identity, you absolutely must pick up this book.

Why Before Night Falls Is One of the Most Inspiring LGBTQ Memoirs

The first 100 pages cover Arenas’ youth in rural Cuba and honestly, it was pretty jarring, and at times a little uncomfortable. I’m not sure what I came to this book expecting, but what I found was a deeply intimate and sometimes brutal account of life under an authoritarian regime. 

Queer Identity, Humor, and Resistance in Cuba

Throughout the book, it was depressing to see how frequently and casually homosexual acts occured among men who still cling to toxic homophobia. As Arenas writes:

“I realized that being called a ‘f****t’ in Cuba was one of the worst disasters that could ever happen to anyone.”

And at the same time, there’s also some humor and joy in the story. I was really amused by The Four Categories of Gays excerpt. Despite everything, Arenas captures moments of queer connection, pleasure, and resistance.

Reading about a country slipping into dictatorship, about how people cope, resist, and break, is deeply unsettling right now. The repression Arenas lived through echoes in so many corners of today’s world. It may not be comforting, but I think it’s really important in this moment to pay attention to stories and experiences like this.

Life in Prison, Surveillance, and Surreal Humor

In the second half of the book, Arenas is imprisoned and then spends several years struggling to survive in a surveillance state that has marked him as a threat to the party. And yet even these chapters are laced with surreal humor. 

There’s a scene where his neighbor Blanca gathers the community in their building to reveal that she can no longer perform sex work as her breasts have shriveled. To provide her some relief, Arenas and his neighbors dig a hole through a closet to give Blanca a window and discover an abandoned convent filled with trinkets to sell. The whole situation seems surreal and absurd.

And then there’s the trickster character of Hiram Prado, a former friend turned informant who pops up throughout the second half as an almost cartoonish menace. His presence provides some comic relief even though his activities were a very serious threat. 

The Harsh Reality of Exile for Queer Writers

One of the most sobering elements of Before Night Falls is that Arenas doesn’t find true freedom in the U.S. or Europe. After successfully fleeing communist Cuba, he goes on to face homophobia, alienation, and exploitation in exile. He received appalling treatment by his publishers. Leftists romanticize the regime he fled. Cuban exiles and activists dismiss him. He’s seen as too angry, too queer, too inconvenient.

“…although both give you a kick in the ass, in the communist system you have to applaud, while in the capitalist system you can scream. And I came here to scream.”

This tension between survival and expression is what makes Before Night Falls one of the most inspiring LGBTQ memoirs you’ll ever read, even in its bleakest moments.

A Defiant Ending That Redefines Courage

The memoir ends not with triumph, but with resistance. There’s no hopeful next chapter. Just Arenas, refusing to be polite or palatable. Writing through surveillance. Through illness. Through exile. Until the very end.

Before Night Falls isn’t an easy read and it’s not really a feel-good summer book. But it’s essential LGBTQ+ literature, and one of those rare inspiring LGBTQ memoirs that reminds us of the power of defiance and authenticity. It’s a testament to living and existing against all odds.

If you’ve read it, I’d love to know:

📖 What stuck with you?

📖 Did anything surprise you?

📖 How did you sit with the ending?

And if you haven’t picked it up yet, I hope this post inspires you to grab a copy. (affiliate link)