The Days of Anna Madrigal

All these years later, Armistead Maupin and his "Tales of the City" characters still have some surprises. With "The Days of Anna Madrigal," -- the ninth and, sigh, final volume in the beloved series --�Maupin blends elegant, energetic writing with a just enough soap to remind you of the crazy early days (remember the cannibal cult? Or how about the appearance of Jim Jones?), but injects a warm, down-to-earth realism that treats his now-older characters kindly (with, mind you, one or two shocking twists).

To close his series, Maupin contrives to bring all the old (surviving) characters together, more or less, one last time. 28 Barbary Lane is no longer the address where the magic happens, but that has only liberated the author, who has always had a penchant for hitting the road (or the high seas) anyway. In this case, old hands Mouse, Mary Ann, Brian, and even Mrs. Madrigal all head off to the desert, along with newer characters like Shawna (Brian's now-adult daughter), transman Jake, and Michael's husband, Ben. Some are destined for Burning Man; others for another part of Nevada... specifically, the site of the old Blue Moon brothel, Anna Madrigal's childhood home (back when she was biologically a he, and unsure what to do about her emergent fabulousness).

Anna Madrigal is now 92, and the past is starting to seep into the present in ways that signal an ending is nigh. Some of what returns to her is unfinished business, including an early ally at the brothel (a "girl" named Margaret) and a youthful crush (a beautiful Basque boy named Lasko). Taking Mrs. Madrigal back to her very earliest roots gives the book (and, in retrospect, the entire series) a symmetrical shape and a deeper resonance; Maupin doesn't spoil Mrs. Madrigal's mystique (no great lady wants her veil of mystery stripped away), but he does deepen our understanding of her.

Every story hinges, in great degree, on the quality of its ending. (Just ask the enraged fans of "Dexter" or the still rapturous followers of "Breaking Bad.") Gently, lovingly, but still with bursts of high drama and winking fun, Maupin scripts an ending that doesn't tie things up so much as tie them off -- the way the last threads of a tapestry are knotted and left complete. Sad and satisfying in equal measures, this last bow will remind you once more of why readers have loved these books, and these characters, for almost four decades.

Humor, drama, melodrama, even some high camp... this is the recipe we've enjoyed since 1976, when "Tales of the City" was first serialized in the San Francisco Chronicle, through the heart of the AIDS crisis, and -- after a decade and a half hiatus --�into the 21st century. Maupin has perfected the recipe, and readers will devour this last serving of Barbary Lane's enduring magic.