If you're a fan of James Baldwin, I'd advise to stay away from this one-- it's like a low-rent Just Above My Head.
Baldwin, I love you to death, but the white protagonist describing himself: "My face is like a face you have seen many times. My ancestors conquered a continent, pushing across death-laden plains, until they came to an ocean which faced away from Europe into a darker past," is UTTERLY RIDICULOUS. What white person would describe himself that way? Thus opens the cheesiest Baldwin novel I've ever read.
As a sidenote, I'd like to add that the book is probably, comparatively speaking, very good for a book that concerns itself as directly with homosexual love and coming out as it does, because, plainly, Baldwin's style is always thorough and lyrical and profound and deep-acting on the psyche. But compared to his other books and literature in general, it's a stinker.
A wonderful book and gay coming of age story!