Reading “No se lo digas a nadie” by Jaime Bayly

 

Original Language: Spanish

Year of publication: 1994

Editorial house: Seix Barral

Number of pages: 519

Nationality: Peru

Appreciation: Strongly recommended

This novel has been haunting me for a long time. I first came to know Jaime Bayly as a witty Peruvian interviewer with an irreverent sense of humor and a sharp tongue. In the late 90s and early 2000s, when I was a child, all Peruvian public channels were available in Colombia thanks to what we used to call “la Perubólica”—a combination of the Spanish words Perú and “parabólica” (satellite dish).

In the 90s, I was a child, so I mostly watched cartoons on the Peruvian channels, which, for some reason, were full of children’s shows from 5:00 to 8:00 p.m. on weekdays and from morning until mid-afternoon on Saturdays. But I wasn’t the only one at home taking advantage of these Peruvian channels; my parents did too. They were particularly fond of a Peruvian late-night show hosted by Jaime Bayly. To be honest, under normal conditions of 'pressure and temperature' (sorry, physics humor), I couldn’t have cared less about a foreign interview show airing Sundays at 11 p.m.—mainly because, truth be told, my mom made me go to bed by 9 p.m. every night! Still, whenever my parents or their friends talked about Bayly, they always used words like smart, intellectual, successful young man, but with the 'flaw'—sometimes even considered a 'sin'—of being gay.

I knew from a young age that I was gay, but at the time, it made me feel deeply unhappy and conflicted, as though I had wicked desires that went against God’s will. My mom had instilled in me a strong fear of Jesus and a belief in God’s wrath against cities like Sodom and Gomorrah. I remember wrestling with these feelings, praying for God to 'heal' me, as I didn’t want to disappoint my mom or face my dad’s anger. My dad had, well, very strict beliefs about how a man should behave. And to be honest, I don’t know how things were in other places in the 90s, but in my world, being gay was always associated with poverty, prostitution, and dying of HIV. That was all I heard on the topic, and in the rare cases when adults had a 'gay friend,' that person was often treated more like the group's clown than a true friend.

Of course, I didn’t want to be any of those things, but it felt like my desires would inevitably lead me down that path. But then, my parents started talking about a gay man they respected: successful, economically stable, and intelligent—Jaime Bayly. It was like a glimmer of hope. I thought, maybe I could be like him. Maybe there was a chance to be gay and still have a successful, stable life without poverty or disease. I could be like Bayly, have a normal life, find success, and maybe my ‘flaw’ would be accepted—after all, everyone has flaws. At least, that’s how I started to see it. 

Unfortunately, in the 90s, having a computer with internet access wasn’t as easy as it is today, so the only way for me to learn more about Bayly was through his late-night TV show on Sundays—something my mom wouldn’t approve of. As a result, I never actually watched his show or saw any of his interviews during those years, though his name stayed with me. Then, years later in the early 2010s, my sister’s boyfriend showed up at our house with a book titled “Los amigos que perdí” by Jaime Bayly. I was stunned and wondered if this could be the same Jaime Bayly my parents had talked about when I was a kid. I asked my brother-in-law if I could borrow the book once he was done with it, as I’d been looking for something new to read.

At that point, I had shifted from TV to books as my main pastime. I often visited the local library to find literature that touched on gay themes—not necessarily about gay couples, but books that captured the real-life experiences of gay people in school, work, family, and so on. Once I finally got the book, I remember devouring it in nearly one day, and I reread it multiple times. I loved Bayly’s writing style, with its light and refreshing language, and I admired how his stories didn’t center on his being gay. Instead, they focused on his life, with his sexuality being just one part of it—not something that defined him. I think this is why I’m now such a strong advocate for LGBTQI+ representation and visibility. I believe that more people should be able to embrace who they are without feeling the need to blame God or fate for how they were born. In my case, literature was my saving grace; in books, I found the support and strength that I couldn’t find in my family or friends. As I write this, Mika’s song Good Guys keeps echoing in my mind: 'And to the romance when I was 14 years old, and to my heroes that were dressed up in gold, only hoping one day I could be so bold… Where have all the gay guys gone?'

I apologize for the tangent in the previous paragraph, but since I came out in 2015, I’d almost forgotten how hard those earlier days were when being in the closet was a daily reality and hiding my real self was a way to survive (I was terrified of my dad finding out and throwing me out). I spent so many nights wondering if I’d grow old in the closet, never knowing what it was like to be in a relationship with another man or to have gay friends with whom I could openly share my life. This may sound dramatic, but coming from South America, where emotions often run high, these thoughts felt incredibly intense.

Now, getting back to Los amigos que perdí—the book unfolds as a series of letters the author writes to past friends who cut off contact with him after he revealed private details about them in his first novel. In each letter, he apologizes, recalling how they met, the moments their friendships ended, and how he remembers them now. My favorite letter is the third, addressed to his beloved friend Sebastián, a celebrated actor and heartbreaker known for his looks. The novel’s protagonist, a fictionalized version of Bayly himself, is a TV presenter who meets this celebrity during a late-night interview, sparking a homoerotic relationship even as both have girlfriends at the time. I loved the way this story was written and found it thrilling to imagine Bayly himself in a hidden relationship with a handsome actor in Lima.

I have to admit, my curiosity got the best of me, and I spent days trying to identify the real people behind Bayly’s letters and figure out how much of it was true. Mostly, I wanted to know if he’d really had a romance with an actor. Representation mattered! I couldn’t help but dream—maybe one day I’d find an actor to be my partner (I know, it was a bit far-fetched, but I was 20, raised on Mexican telenovelas, and prone to romantic daydreams). Sadly, reality wasn’t so glamorous. The actor in question does exist, but he has denied all of Bayly’s claims, and ‘Los amigos que perdí’ wasn’t even the first time Bayly had written about him. In his debut novel, Bayly had already described this actor as his first gay love, detailing how they met and the intimate relationship they shared. Peruvian reporters criticized Bayly for allegedly outing the actor and accused him of sacrificing his friends’ and former lover’s reputations to boost book sales, claiming he exploited public figures in his novels for profit.

I felt a bit disappointed and wondered if my admiration for Bayly had clouded my judgment. I read all of Bayly’s novels I could find or buy, and I genuinely enjoyed them. However, I didn’t come across his first novel, ‘No se lo digas a nadie’, until two months ago in a French bookstore. Even though my admiration for Bayly isn’t as intense as it was during my teenage years, I was still curious about this book and how he supposedly outed the actor.

Although the novel was originally published in 1994, it resurfaced in 2022—nearly 30 years after its release—because the actor finally came out and confirmed his past relationship with Bayly. In an interview, the actor opened up about their relationship, expressing feelings of betrayal and disappointment. His resentment was clear as he talked about this experience, which seemed to have left a lasting impact.

To make things even worse, just two months after his coming out, on August 5, 2022, the actor tragically took his own life by jumping from the balcony of his fifteenth-floor apartment in Miraflores, a district in Lima, Peru. This event sparked a wave of anger on social media, with many blaming Bayly for his death. Although ‘No se lo digas a nadie’ was published nearly 30 years prior, some online accused Bayly’s novel of being the catalyst for the actor's suicide.

Witnessing this surge of criticism and the tragic turn of events rekindled my interest in the novel, leaving me wondering why I had waited so long to finally read it!

Naturally, I tried to find the novel on Amazon, but I discovered that in 2010, Bayly decided to rewrite his first four novels, omitting all the erotic content from the original versions. So, every time I considered buying ‘No se lo digas a nadie’, I hesitated, worried I might end up with the revised edition instead of the original. I wanted to know exactly what was written about the actor in the original version—content that, according to social media, may have contributed to the actor’s tragic decision nearly 30 years after its publication.

Finally, last month, after officially moving from Lyon to Paris, I visited a well-known bookstore in the city and stumbled upon an old edition of ‘No se lo digas a nadie’, published by Seix Barral. This had to be the complete version. I bought it on the spot and started reading it right away. 

I have to say, the novel pleasantly surprised me. Of course, I expected to enjoy a Jaime Bayly novel, but this time, I read it with a particular excitement, as I was seeking the story that allegedly destroyed the actor. It felt like having access to a personal diary filled with juicy details.

The novel is divided into three parts. The first part fictionalizes moments from Bayly's childhood in an upper-middle-class family, raised with a strict fear of God. It depicts how, as a young boy, he discovered his attraction to men, and how his father, in an attempt to “fix” him, took him to a brothel to initiate him into manhood. His mother, on the other hand, was deeply devoted to the Catholic Church and tried to shield him from the sins of the world.

Reading this first part was like stepping into a time warp. I didn’t grow up in an upper-middle-class family, but my family is very Catholic, and my dad held similar ideas about what it meant to be a man. He was always anxious about the possibility of his eldest son being gay. In one chapter, Bayly's fictional father even says he would have preferred having a son with Down syndrome over a gay one. This reminded me of a family member who once said they’d rather have a promiscuous daughter than a gay son.

The second part of the book focuses on a period in the author’s life as a young adult, living independently, working on a late-night show with a fair amount of success, and struggling with drug addiction. He’s also openly bisexual. This section is the longest in the novel and contains the infamous chapter dedicated to the actor, which I was most eager to read. However, when I finally got to it, I found it rather tame—some erotic scenes and moments of romantic tension, but nothing, in my view, that would justify the media chaos it caused on Peruvian TV.

Honestly, I feel that if the same story had involved an actress rather than an actor, the book wouldn’t have been reduced to a scandalous “homoerotic, perverse story” between two men. The uproar seems more about the fact that Bayly’s affair outed the actor, invading his privacy, which some claim ultimately led him (nearly 30 years later) to take his own life.

One chapter that really touched me appears just before the chapter about the actor; it’s called ‘Recuerdos Dominicanos’ (Dominican Memories). This episode tells of a time when the main character visits the Dominican Republic and meets a gay man who seems to be in the closet. They share a memorable night together, but afterward, the man disappears. Later, they encounter each other by chance, but the man, frightened, pretends not to know him and quickly leaves without a proper conversation. It’s a sad story, and thankfully, one I haven’t experienced myself. Meeting someone who would deny you, who would consider you a mistake—that’s a painful thought.

It’s common when we first come out to be drawn to straight guys or to gay men who aren’t ready to accept their sexuality. I remember watching a YouTube channel about LGBTQ+ topics, where the host said the worst thing is trying to kiss or get involved with a straight (or seemingly straight) friend. If you do, they’ll often see you as a mistake, a regret they carry in the future. That sentiment has stuck with me. Even though there are things from my early days as a gay man that I might want to forget, I’ve never been interested in someone who’s straight (or pretending to be). For me, if someone says they’re straight, any interest disappears immediately. There’s an ocean full of fish, so why be someone else’s “mistake”?

Reading ‘Recuerdos Dominicanos’ made me reflect on this and on how cruel society can be, to the point where it drives people to deny who they are and push others away out of fear. To my gay friends, I’d say—never accept the role of being someone’s shame or regret. It’s a heavy burden we shouldn’t have to bear.

In the third and final part of the book, the main character is living in Miami when his parents visit him, amidst a marital crisis. His father, a known womanizer, decides to divorce his mother because he finds her excessive religiosity unbearable. This chapter is compelling because it highlights the complexities of family relationships. But, as Rubén Blades says in his song Amor y Control: ‘A pesar de los problemas, familia es familia y cariño es cariño’—despite the problems, family is family, and love is love. No matter the mistakes or the pain our parents may cause, they’re often the ones who love us the most (or at least that’s what I hope).

In my own life, after coming out to my family, they went through a period of denial and self-blame. But thankfully, we’ve come to a place of acceptance and understanding. I’m openly gay, so for anyone reading this, just know—this isn’t my “coming out” post! And please, there’s no need to message me saying you like me despite who I am. I don’t need that kind of support, though I appreciate the thought. Just think: would you tell a straight friend that you like them despite their height, weight, race, or nationality? Probably not, so let’s skip that sentiment for me as well.

On a side note, the novel was adapted into a movie of the same name. I’ve watched it, but as is often the case, I prefer the book. Although the movie captures most of the novel’s plot, I found the book to be more relatable, while the film felt a bit more mainstream. Still, the movie received positive reviews, so if you’re interested in the story but not up for reading the book, watching the movie could be a good option.

I’ll wrap it up here—wishing you a great week and some enjoyable reading! =)