1950s America and Queer Representation

The 1950s in the United States were a time of social repression, conformity, and an almost militant promotion of heteronormativity. Homosexuality was still widely considered taboo—both a psychological illness and a criminal act in many states. Queer representation in literature, if present at all, was often tragic, coded, or used as a warning. Against this grim backdrop, The Price of Salt emerged like a quiet yet defiant storm.

Books featuring LGBTQ+ characters in this era were almost universally bleak. The “punishment” trope reigned supreme—if two women fell in love, you could bet one of them would either end up dead, insane, or permanently alone. What made The Price of Salt revolutionary wasn’t just that it featured a lesbian relationship—it was the hopeful ending. Patricia Highsmith, under the pseudonym Claire Morgan, dared to imagine a different world. A world where queer love didn’t automatically lead to tragedy.

Moreover, the 1950s weren’t kind to authors who stepped outside the accepted norms. Highsmith had already found success with her psychological thriller Strangers on a Train, and feared that attaching her real name to a lesbian love story would derail her career. That’s why she chose the pseudonym Claire Morgan—a strategic move that shielded her personal brand but still allowed her to tell the story she desperately wanted to write.

The Price of Salt became a beacon, passed hand to hand among closeted readers, a lifeline for those who had never seen their love reflected back at them. Its very existence was a quiet act of rebellion—a declaration that queer lives were real, complex, and worthy of joy.


A Bold Move: Publishing a Lesbian Romance Novel

Publishing The Price of Salt in 1952 was not just rare; it was radical. The original publisher, Coward-McCann, took a chance on the book, but they too were cautious, pushing it under the pen name Claire Morgan to avoid controversy. Despite this cautious approach, the book found its audience—especially among LGBTQ+ readers who had long been starved for authentic stories.

At a time when lesbian pulp fiction was often sensationalized, fetishized, or laced with punishment, The Price of Salt stood out for its emotional nuance and literary quality. It didn’t lean on the usual tropes. It wasn’t written for male titillation. It was a story by a woman, about women, and for women—especially queer women.

Patricia Highsmith didn’t write this novel from the outside looking in. She drew from her own experiences, particularly a real-life infatuation she had with an elegant woman she once saw in a department store. This grounding in reality gave the novel a level of intimacy and empathy that was missing in most contemporary queer fiction.

In its first year alone, the book sold over a million copies—a testament to its magnetic pull and to the hunger for stories like it. It was both subversive and tender, daring and delicate. Readers were captivated, and despite being published under a pseudonym, Highsmith’s work made a lasting imprint on queer literature.


Plot Summary and Themes

Love, Identity, and Self-Discovery

At its core, The Price of Salt is a story about finding oneself through the experience of love. The novel follows Therese Belivet, a 19-year-old aspiring set designer in New York City, and Carol Aird, a sophisticated older woman navigating a difficult divorce. When their paths cross during a chance meeting in a department store, the spark is instantaneous.

What unfolds is not just a romance—it’s a journey of personal revelation. Therese starts the story as a passive, uncertain young woman who struggles to find meaning in her relationship with her boyfriend and in her chosen career path. Meeting Carol acts as a catalyst, forcing Therese to confront truths about her desires, her fears, and her place in the world.

Carol, on the other hand, is navigating her own crisis. In the middle of a custody battle for her daughter, she must grapple with the legal and social consequences of being in love with another woman. The tension between personal happiness and societal obligation is at the heart of the novel.

One of the novel’s greatest strengths is its refusal to reduce the relationship to simple binaries. Carol isn’t a savior, and Therese isn’t just a wide-eyed ingenue. Both women are complex, flawed, and deeply human. Through their love, they begin to unearth layers of themselves they didn’t know existed.

This theme of self-discovery is not presented as an easy path. There’s doubt. There’s guilt. There’s longing. But there’s also growth—and in that growth lies the story’s power.


A Closer Look at the Forbidden Romance

Therese and Carol: Unpacking Their Journey

The romance between Therese and Carol doesn’t explode in fireworks—it simmers slowly, rich with tension, charged glances, and pregnant silences. This slow-burn quality gives the novel a uniquely emotional depth. Every conversation is loaded with subtext; every touch feels monumental. In a time when open declarations of same-sex love were dangerous, Highsmith captures how passion often had to be hidden in plain sight.

Therese, as the younger and more emotionally vulnerable of the two, finds herself both exhilarated and confused. Carol, though more composed, is not immune to fear. The two women embark on a road trip—a classic American metaphor for escape and reinvention. On the road, away from the eyes of society, they are able to explore the contours of their relationship more freely.

But reality isn’t far behind. They are followed by a private investigator hired by Carol’s husband, and the threat of losing her child forces Carol to make painful choices. The lovers are driven apart, but not destroyed. And this is what sets the novel apart from its contemporaries—it allows for hope. When Therese chooses to pursue Carol again, it’s not from naivety, but from a deeper understanding of who she is and what she wants.

Psychological Tensions and Inner Conflicts

Highsmith, known for her psychological insight in thrillers like The Talented Mr. Ripley, brings the same depth to The Price of Salt. The real battle is not just external—it’s internal. Each character faces the agonizing pull between authenticity and safety, between passion and consequence.

Therese is constantly analyzing her feelings, trying to understand the unfamiliar terrain of same-sex love. Her mind races with “what-ifs” and silent reckonings. Carol, though more practiced at guarding herself, is tormented by the potential fallout of her choices—not just for herself, but for her daughter.

There’s a haunting realism to the emotional pacing of the novel. Highsmith doesn’t rush through the pain or the uncertainty. She lingers in it, allowing readers to fully experience the turmoil of her characters. The psychological texture she weaves is what elevates this love story into the realm of literature.