Louis Ironson
Though Kushner is critical of Louis, he in no way diminishes the gravity of what this character is forced to deal with. Louis has, after all, good reason for wanting to flee. When he confronts his lover on the floor of their bedroom, burning with fever and excreting blood, the full horror of this disease is conveyed in all its mercilessness and squalor. Louis's moral dilemma is compelling precisely because what he has to deal with is so overwhelming. Still, the playwright makes clear that all the talk of justice and politics will not free us from those terrifying, yet fundamental responsibilities that accompany human sickness and death (McNutty 3).
Louis is determined to "maybe himself out of his unfortunate present reality.One of the more incendiary moments occurs at a coffee shop with Prior's ex-lover and closest friend, Belize. Louis launches instead into a de Tocqueville-esque diatribe: "There are no gods here, no ghosts and spirits in America, there are no angels in Americal, no spiritual past, no racial past, there's only the political, and the decoys and the ploys to maneuver around the inescapable battle of politics". Belize makes clear that he can see right through Louis's highbrow subterfuge: "Are you deliberately transforming yourself into an arrogant, sexual-political Stalinist-slash-racist flag-wavingh thug for my benefit" (McNutty 2,3).
Louis self-destructively yearns to be penetrated: "I want you to fuck me, hurt me, make me bleed" (Kruger 7). Later Joe encounters Louis, who is in desperate flight of fear from his longtime lover, Prior, who is suffering from the initial stages of full-blown AIDS. Racked with guilt at his faithlessness, the liberal Louis reflects on the era, which he sees as a metaphor for his cowardly behavior. He describes himself, and Joe, as "Children of the new morning, criminal minds. Selfish and greedy and loveless and blind. Reagan's children." Louis has a brutal, punishing sexual encounter with a stranger in Central Park. The stanger provocatively asks, "You been a bad boy? Louis can only sardonically reply, "Very bad. Very bad" (Wheatley 9).