Meet John Rechy

I am most grateful to Octavio Roca for sharing a fascinating profile The LAnd magazine recently did of John Rechy, a gay writer I am chagrinned to admit I wasn't familiar with. (Back in 2016, Lee Levine nominated Rechy's 1994 novel, Numbers, for our reading list, but it didn't make the cut.) Nearly 91 years old and still going strong on the evidence of this interview, Rechy is a Mexican-American novelist, essayist, memoirist, dramatist and literary critic who is counted among the pioneers of modern LGBT literature. City of Night, his debut novel, was a best-seller when published in 1963, and is still in print, as are many of his 18 books. (The painter David Hockney credits City of Night for enticing him to move to Los Angeles.) Rechy definitely sounds like someone to keep in mind for our next reading list!

A redo for Redu?

Those of you fortunate enough to have spent time in Europe may have visited or at least heard of Redu, Belgium, which describes itself as a village du livre, a "book town." Beginning in the 1980s, the village of about 400 became home to more than two dozen bookstores--more shops than cows, its boosters liked to say--and thousands of tourists thronged its winsome streets each year. Sadly, as the Washington Post reports, more than half of Redu's bookstores have closed in recent years, and more are on the brink of bankruptcy.

Several local bookstores have found success by trying different strategies to cope with an aging clientele and competition from the internet. La Reduiste, for instance, hosts jazz nights and film screenings, in addition to selling books in multiple languages and serving espresso and Belgian beer. Books -- or, perhaps, just as important, the idea of books as symbols of comfort or quaint sophistication -- remain at the center of its business model, which can be replicated elsewhere, supporters say.

Anne Laffut, Redu's mayor, is optimistic. "The elders think the village is changing because there are fewer bookstores and it is a disappointment. But there is a new generation, which is very active in Redu. Many volunteers are teaming up with the same desire for the village to continue to endure."

What's in YOUR library?

As many of us are getting (and giving) books this holiday season, this New York Times article, "How Many Books Does It Take to Make a Place Feel Like Home?", seems quite timely. My answer to that query, by the way, is always "More!" 

Yet more LGBTQ poetry to know

Poem-a-Day seems to have taken a bit of a break from featuring LGBTQ poets and poetry since my last compilation here, back in October, but here are some more examples.  Enjoy! 

Inside Me, a Family by Ching-In Chen

Self-Compassion by James Crews

What Day by Paisley Rekdal

Vespers by Meg Day

The Midnight Cowboy rides again

Until I saw it on the Washington Post's "Best Nonfiction of 2021" list (see the item immediately below this one), I'd forgotten about Glenn Frankel's Shooting 'Midnight Cowboy': Art, Sex, Loneliness, Liberation and the Making of a Dark Classic, which came out back in April. I'm embarrassed to admit that I've never seen the 1969 Oscar-winning film, but the buzz about Frankel's tribute has definitely piqued my interest in the movie and the book.

Holiday gift ideas for bookworms

As usual, 'tis the season for "best of the year" lists.  Here is the "100 Notable Books of 2021" compilation from the New York Times and the 2021 "Best 50 Fiction Books" and "Best 50 Nonfiction Books" lists from the Washington Post. Both roundups are notable for LGBTQ authors and subjects, and we'll be reading at least two of these selections in 2022: Alec and The Magician. 

Discord at Concordia

This item appeared in the Sept. 24 edition of Washington Post book critic Ron Charles' "Book Club" weekly newsletter. Sadly, recent events in Virginia and other states have made it even more relevant than when I first read it. 

"The Plum Creek Literary Festival is having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. Founded in 1996, this convention at Concordia, a Lutheran university in Nebraska, usually draws thousands of children to see the nation's top writers and illustrators. But less than 48 hours before the festivities were set to begin, the events planned for today and tomorrow were canceled because many of the guest authors withdrew in protest over Concordia's discriminatory policy toward LGBTQ people.

The controversy started when two-time National Book Award finalist Eliot Schrefer was getting ready to attend Plum Creek. He noticed that the festival website was missing his recent novel, The Darkness Outside Us, about a relationship between two teenage boys on a spaceship. The website was also missing Ask the Passengers, a celebrated LGBTQ novel by another festival guest, A.S. King.

Schrefer says the festival director told him that the omission of The Darkness Outside Us was "an inadvertent slip." But when Schrefer looked into Concordia, he discovered that the university's official code of conduct calls homosexuality "a sin" deserving of "disciplinary intervention."

At this point, Schrefer withdrew from the festival. "When you're visiting an institution, there's kind of an implicit trust, and that left when I put all the pieces together," he told me. "I couldn't contribute to the campus life of a school that actively discriminates against gay people or lesbian people."

Alerted to Concordia's code of conduct, Tim Miller, Varian Johnson, Molly Idle, Laurie Keller, and other authors and illustrators announced they would not attend Plum Creek, either.

Newbery Medal winner Meg Medina came to the same decision. "There was just no way that I could go to that festival without feeling like it was implied that I was OK with that policy," she told me. "I was thinking of children--gay children, straight children--all over the country and what it would do to them to have me attend a conference with such a policy." She says Plum Creek needs to think hard about how it wants to move forward. "If they're trying to run an inclusive conference that includes children's literature as it is today, then it needs to honor the lives of all children. It needs to be a welcoming and safe and nondiscriminatory place."

Dylan C. Teut, director of the Plum Creek Literacy Festival, sent me an email saying that The Darkness Outside Us was not included on the children's book sale website only because Schrefer was scheduled to speak to a middle school group about one of his other novels. (The Darkness Outside Us, which is listed as YA [Young Adult], was going to be available for sale at the adult conference, according to Teut.) And he said that Ask the Passengers was not included because he wasn't familiar with it.

Teut went on to say: "Plum Creek does not discriminate against attendees, nor does Concordia University discriminate against its students based on sexual orientation or identity. Since the festival began 26 years ago, we have hosted multiple authors, illustrators and attendees who have various sexual orientations and identities in our open and welcoming community.

Alas, that's the institutional version of "But some of my best friends are gay!" It is simply not acceptable to host a book festival for a general audience on a campus that's officially homophobic."

To which I say: Amen!

Some podcasts with LGBTQ content

[Note: I've updated this item to clean up the format.]

The Atlantic recently recommended five podcasts in its daily newsletter to subscribers, and I was struck by the fact that three of them had a gay connection. Here they are (all descriptions are from The Atlantic): 

Great Lives, "Alvin Hall Chooses James Baldwin" (BBC) 

The great joy of James Baldwin's prose is its rhythms, so he's the perfect subject for a podcast episode. This 2015 episode of the BBC's long-running biography series Great Lives explores his life and work, and provides a great introduction to his unforgettable voice. If you love biography, the Great Lives archive is a treasure chest. (Note: We'll be discussing Baldwin's final novel, Just Above My Head, in February.)

It's Been a Minute with Sam Sanders, "Brandon Taylor Wrote 'Real Life' and 'Filthy Animals' for His Queer, Black Friends" (National Public Radio)

Sam Sanders' delightful show has been a great mix of humor, thoughtfulness and existentialism. In his recent interview with the writer Brandon Taylor, Sanders poses the oh-so-small questions: "Do we ever really like our lives? And do we ever really like our friends?" I couldn't help but smile listening to their easy banter, and I loved hearing Taylor explain his artistic philosophy: to write stories that will make the people he loves laugh, cry, and feel seen.

Short Wave, "The Mysterious Ice Worm" (NPR)

This is a PSA: Ice worms--worms that live inside glaciers--are real, and a recent episode of NPR's daily science podcast is here to tell you about them. Everyone needs a break from the wear and tear of the pandemic, and for me, delightful natural-world-facts podcasts have been an absolute saving grace. I honestly recommend all Short Wave episodes, which cover topics as diverse as discrimination in health care for transgender people and whether your cat actually hates you. But this ice-worm joint is a great encapsulation of what a science podcast can do: inform, delight and make you wonder about important real-life issues such as why ice worms get fatter over winter. 

Jasper Johns' "Skin"

Jasper Johns actually created two versions of this self-portrait, the second of which has a Frank O'Hara poem appended to it.

Memory Piece (for Frank O'Hara)

This is one of the Jasper Johns pieces Brad Gooch discusses in the O'Hara biography we recently read.

 

In Memory of My Feelings

As some of you know, I took in the Jasper Johns retrospective, "Mind/Mirror," at the Whitney while visiting a close friend in the Big Apple last month. While I am not a skilled photographer, as you'll see (to put it mildly), I did take some photos of several paintings related to Frank O'Hara. So I'm posting those here, both as souvenirs of the exhibition and as a shoutout to the Brad Gooch biography we discussed last month, City Poet: The Life and Times of Frank O'Hara.

Ite lista est: BookMen DC's 2022 Reading List

This list incorporates selections approved during last year's nomination process, but not yet scheduled; those are denoted with an asterisk.

FICTION

*A Place Called Winter by Patrick Gale. 

A Room with a View by E.M. Forster. 

Alec by William di Canzio. 

Days Without End by Sebastian Barry. 

Just Above My Head by James Baldwin. 

Lie With Me by Philippe Bessone. 

*P.S. Your Cat Is Dead: A Novel by James Kirkwood. 

Plays Well With Others by Allan Gurganus. 

Shuggie Bain by Douglas Stuart. 

Specimen Days by Michael Cunningham. 

The Magician by Colm Toibin. 

*The Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone by Tennessee Williams. 

NON-FICTION

Blood Brothers by Ernst Haffner. 

*No House to Call My Home: Love, Family and Other Transgressions by Ryan Berg. 

Outlaw Marriages: The Hidden Histories of Fifteen Extraordinary Same-Sex Couples by Rodger Streitmatter.

The Deviant's War: The Homosexual vs. the United States of America by Eric Cervini.

BIOGRAPHY/MEMOIR

A Tale of Two Omars: A Memoir of Family, Revolution and Coming Out During the Arab Spring by Omar Sharif Jr. 

Careening into Gay Midlife by James Daniels. 

Everything in Its Place: First Loves and Last Tales by Oliver Sacks. 

Harvey Milk: His Lives and Death by Lillian Faderman. 

*Queer and Loathing: Rants and Raves of a Raging AIDS Clone by David Feinberg. 

POETRY

Night Sky with Exit Wounds by Ocean Vuong. 

Puerilities: Erotic Epigrams of the Greek Anthology translated by Daryl Hine. 

ANTHOLOGIES

*Pages Passed from Hand to Hand: The Hidden Tradition of Homosexual Literature in English from 1748 to 1914, edited by Mark Mitchell and David Leavitt. 

'Tis Reading List Season!

 

Still more LGBTQ poets to know...

Once again, it's time for another compilation of LGBTQ poetry taken from Poem-a-Day. In some cases, I wasn't able to confirm that the poet is a member of our demographic, but the subject matter of the poem pretty clearly is. Anyway, enjoy! 

"Confessional to Famous Iranian Pop Singer Dariush" by Darius Atefat-Peckham

"What I really want to know is how rough, Melissa" by TC Tolbert

"French Leave" by Claude McKay

"XX Judgement" by Dan Lau

"a feeling has passed before a charted present" by Kimberly Alidio

"A Poem for Rebecca Wight" by Rachel Moritz

"A Fairy Tale of Blackboyhood" by Dashaun Washington

"Interior" by Jada Renee Allen

"The One Mockingbird Only Sings at Night" by Hannah Sanghee Park

"Belt Is Just Another Verb for Song" by Torrin A. Greathouse

Recalling the Cory Book Service

Richard Schaefers was kind enough to draw my attention to a fascinating Oct. 5 "American Chronicles" piece on The New Yorker's homepage: "The Book Club That Helped Spark the Gay-Rights Movement." (Not sure whether it will run in the print edition.) In it, Michael Waters recounts how "Donald Webster Cory" (real name: Edward Sagarin) came to establish the Cory Book Service, which distributed various gay and lesbian books to subscribers. He ran it from 1952 to 1954, before selling his mailing list and all but disavowing the project after coming under the influence of a disapproving therapist. It would re-emerge in 1957 as the Winston Book Service (run by a straight woman!) and operate for a decade before finally disbanding, under yet another owner, in 1969.

Frank O'Hara speaks!

Last night, a dozen of us gathered for a lively discussion of Brad Gooch's City Poet: The Life and Times of Frank O'Hara that conincluded readings of three O'Hara poems. If you'd like to hear the poet himself read some of his works, here's a YouTube link courtesy of Bernard Welt.

In addition, Ernie Raskauskas was kind enough to share this delightful 2019 reminiscence of Joe LeSueur, O'Hara's longtime (and long-suffering) roommate and occasional lover, by his nephew, Jason S. Farr, who is also gay.

Jasper Johns, Footman

Although the renowned artist Jasper Johns does not figure prominently in our current selection, City Poet: The Life and Times of Frank O'Hara, which we'll discuss this coming Wednesday, he does rate a few mentions in the index (pp. 315, 322-323 and 395). The last of those is the most significant:

"Jasper Johns made a sculpture of wood, lead, metal, brass and sand in 1961 titled Memory Piece (Frank O'Hara), in which a rubber cast of a foot in the sand was taken from a plaster foot of O'Hara's foot. 'I remember casting his foot on Front Street in my studio,' says Johns. 'I cast his foot and did a drawing for the piece, which included a cabinet with the drawers full of sand. At that time I had a house in South Carolina. I needed a carpenter but could never find anyone to do it. I think it was done after his death. But I gave Frank the drawing for it.' This was the piece referred to in O'Hara's letter-poem to Johns, written in 1963: 'Dear Jap, when I think of you in South Carolina I think of my foot in the sand.'"

Johns, of course, is much in the news currently for the huge retrospective of his works ("Jasper Johns: Mind/Mirror") that just opened at the Whitney Museum of Art and the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Here are reviews/commentaries from the Washington Post's Philip Kennicott and Sebastian Smee (the former concentrates on Johns' homosexuality, the latter more on his aesthetic) and the New York Times' Deborah Solomon and Holland Cotter. I'm planning to see the Whitney show later this month; not sure yet about going to Philly.

Alec (& Maurice & Clive)

Last month I posted a review here of William di Canzio's Alec, which enough of you have already proposed for our next reading list that it's a very safe bet we'll be reading it early next year. In the meantime, Octavio Roca was kind enough to share this New Republic review of the novel by Alexander Chee (whose Edinburgh we discussed in 2005). Unaccountably, the Post still has not reviewed Alec (!), but here again is the New York Times review.

Roberto Calasso on Greek love

For various reasons, I suspect that most of my fellow BookMen don't plan to read the book we'll be discussing tomorrow night, Roberto Calasso's The Marriage of Cadmus and Harmony. So I'm going to take the liberty of quoting one of the most interesting passages (Chapter III, pp. 70-71) from that work:

"With the heroes, man takes his first step beyond the necessary: into the realm of risk, defiance, shrewdness, deceit, art. And with the heroes a new love is disclosed. The woman helps the hero to slay monsters and capture talismans. A shining initiator into religious mystagogue, she has a splendor that ranges from the glimmering radiance of Ariadne to the dazzle of Medea. But the heroes also ushered in a new kind of love: that between man and man. (My emphasis.) Heracles and Iolaus, Theseus and Peirithous, Achilles and Patroclus, Orestes and Pylades--all enjoyed what Aeschylus calls 'the sacred communion of thighs', a communion Achilles chided Patroclus for having forgotten merely because he was dead.

"The love of one man for another appears with the heroes and immediately reaches its perfect expression. Only the heroes--and precisely because they were heroes--could have overcome what for the Greeks had been an insurmountable obstacle to such a love: the rigid distinction between separate roles, the obstinate asymmetry between erastes and eromenos, lover and beloved, which had condemned love relationships to being painfully short and stifled by the strictest rules. The cruelest of these rules was that, while the lover was granted his swift and predatory pleasure, the beloved was not to enjoy any sexual pleasure at all but was to submit himself to the other only reluctantly, in something the way nineteenth-century wives were encouraged to submit to their husbands. And the lover could not look into the eyes of his beloved as he ravished him, so as to avoid embarrassment.

"The heroes swept all these rules away. Their relationships were long-lasting--only death could end them--and their love didn't fade away merely because the beloved grew hairs on his legs or because his skin, hardened by a life of adventure, lost its youthful smoothness. Thus the heroes achieved the most yearned-for of states, in which the distinction between lover and beloved begins to blur. Between Orestes and Pylades, 'it would have been difficult to say which of the two was the lover, since the lover's tenderness found its reflection in the other's face as in a mirror.' In the same way, these words from the Pseudo-Lucian hold up a late mirror to what was the most constant erotic wish of Greek men, and the most vain."

A Mann Reconsidered

Way back in 2005, our group discussed Colm Toibin's The Master, which dramatized the life of Henry James at the turn of the 20th century. (I found it extraordinary, but my admittedly vague recollection is that not everyone at the discussion was bowled over by it.) Toibin is back now with another novel exploring the inner life of a sexually conflicted literary giant: Thomas Mann, whose Death in Venice we discussed in 2008. In The Magician, Toibin takes as his starting point Mann's (not so) secret diaries, which were published decades after the novelist's death, but covers his entire life--not just a slice of it. Here is the New York Times review.

Meet Tomasz Jedrowski

The 15 (!) of us who attended last week's discussion of Tomasz Jedrowski's first novel, Swimming in the Dark, concurred, with rare unanimity, that it is an impressive debut--particularly for someone who is not a native English-speaker. Mike Mazza was kind enough to share a link to this NPR interview with the author for those, like me, who are eager to hear more about (and from) him. 

Welcome to Midland

If Midland, Texas, sounds vaguely familiar, it's probably because that's where Baby Jessica was rescued from a well back in 1987--an event that CNN covered around the clock and was the subject of a TV movie. But thanks to Logen Cure, the town now has another claim to fame, albeit one its tourism bureau probably won't be promoting: Welcome to Midland, her new book of poetry about her queer coming of age in West Texas oil country. Here is the Texas Observer's review, which quotes a particularly pungent line: "'They say tomboy like bless her heart'--a Texas insult if ever there was one." 

A strangely de-gayed book review

I was really looking forward to reading the review in today's Washington Post of James Whiteside's Center Center: A Funny, Sexy, Sad Almost-Memoir of a Boy in Ballet. Sadly, while the reviewer (a former ballerina) clearly likes the book, she focuses almost solely on the American Ballet Theater principal dancer's reflections on his profession--to the exclusion of his queer identity. Indeed, apart from a single reference to his drag persona, and a passing allusion to his being "gender-subversive," the casual reader would have no clue that Whiteside is gay at all. 

To rectify that curious sin of omission, here are some articles that give a fuller picture, from Vanity Fair, Bustle and the New York Times.

Maurice 2.0?

One of the first novels our merry band discussed, way back in April 2001 (shortly after I joined), was E.M. Forster's Maurice. Much more recently (July 2020), we had a lively session with Matthew Lopez's The Inheritance, an adaptation of another Forster classic, Howard's End. And now we have William di Canzio's Alec, which New York Times reviewer Manuel Betancourt says "aims to both complete and complement Maurice by picking up Forster's characters and thrusting them into the muck-riddled trenches of the Great War." (My thanks to Octavio Roca for flagging that review for me.) Color me intrigued! 

More from Kaveh Akbar

Back in April, I posted an item about Kaveh Akbar, a gay Iranian-American writer who is currently poetry critic at The Nation. Washington Post critic Ron Charles devoted part of his most recent "Book Club" weekly newsletter (always entertaining, and worth checking out if you're already a Post subscriber), to Akbar's second collection, Pilgrim Bell, which he calls "a series of revelations." Judging by the poem Charles samples from it, "Despite My Efforts Even My Prayers Have Turned into Threats," he's right about that.  

A queer writer gone too soon...

It's just a coincidence, but our recent discussion of John Kennedy Toole (scroll down for that posting), came to mind when I read reviews of the just-published Afterparties: Stories by Anthony Veasna So, a Cambodian-American gay writer who died of a drug overdose last year at the age of 28. I've just ordered my copy of the book, but the buzz leads me to surmise that it could make a fine addition to our next reading list. Here are profiles of So and reviews of his books from Vulture, the New York Times, The Atlantic and the Washington Post.

RIP, Roberto Calasso

As longtime BookMen members know, a couple of years ago we agreed to begin discussing a non-LGBTQ selection once a quarter, usually in a third-Wednesday session. Our next one, which we'll discuss on Sept. 15, is The Marriage of Cadmus and Harmony by Roberto Calasso, a classicist who died last month at the age of 80. (A tip of the hat to Patrick Flynn for recommending it.) The following obituaries should give you insights into Calasso's life and career, and background on this particular book: The Guardian, the New York Times and the Washington Post. (There are, of course, many other tributes to him out there, but these will get you started.)

Was John Kennedy Toole gay?

This past Wednesday, we discussed I, John Kennedy Toole, by Kent Carroll and Jodee Blanco. While attendees did have some positive things to say about the book, which is billed as a "novelized true story" about Toole, the author of A Confederacy of Dunces, overall we found it disappointing. 

Speaking as the person who nominated the book last fall, I would note that my biggest disappointment was the authors' refusal even to address the perennial question of whether Toole was gay. It is, of course, true that there is no proof that he was, much less that he ever acted on it. But there is also plenty of reason to suspect he might have been a homosexual.

With that in mind, I did an online search and found several articles and reviews that argue in favor of the proposition. I won't list them individually here, but I found the top two results--articles from the Baltimore Sun and The Guardian--the most persuasive. 

OutWrite happens THIS weekend (Aug. 6-8)

For the 11th year--half of BookMen's existence--the DC Center is sponsoring the OutWrite Literary Festival this coming weekend (Aug. 6-8). DC Center has the full schedule (and I do mean full!) for the event, which again will be held entirely online this year. In addition, Metro Weekly and City Paper have published feature articles about the festival.

Gilgamesh, the Sequel

Though it seems, well, an epoch ago now, it's been less than seven months since we discussed The Epic of Gilgamesh in Andrew George's translation. Who knew then that ancient text would be back in the news, and just down the street from where I live and move and have my being, at the Museum of the Bible? A tip of the hat to Ernie Raskauskas for sharing the following article detailing Hobby Lobby's role in donating some cuneiform tablets to the museum that turned out to be of dubious provenance.

And as a bonus track, the Washington Post's wit, Alexandra Petri, just devoted a column to that news. Enjoy!

More LGBTQ poets to know

Back in the spring, I began posting items here spotlighting LGBTQ poets whose work Poem-a-Day has featured. I've fallen behind on that project, so here is a catch-up compilation featuring those poems. Enjoy!

"Last Best Niche" by Cyree Jarelle Johnson

"Who Hurt You" by LA Warman

"I, Lover" by Elsa Gidlow

"Felt Flowers" by Noah Baldino

"freedom terrors" by dee(dee) c. arran

"Searching for a Palestinian Necropastoral (Eve)" by George Abraham

"the shoes" by Wo Chan

"Rememory" by Roya Marsh

"UPON Grief and Grievance: Art and Mourning in America, New Museum, New York/2021" by Ronaldo V. Wilson

Nick Carraway, unreliable narrator

My thanks to Ted Coltman for sharing this cross-disciplinary article from The Lancet, titled "The Great Gatsby and the challenge of unreliable narrators." If you double-click on the image below, it should become large enough to read, or you can go to the site. (You do have to register to read it there, but that is free.) Or email me and I'll gladly send you the PDF. 

An update on meeting in person...

The good news is that D.C. public libraries are again taking reservations for meeting rooms. (I thank those of you who have tipped me off to that welcome sign of progress.) But the bad news is that the only night any branch is open past 6 p.m. is Thursday. My hope is that sometime in the fall, libraries will again be open on Wednesday evenings, enabling us to resume meeting in person. 

As for the DC Center, I still haven't been able to obtain any definitive info on whether it will reopen at all, let alone where or when. As many of you know, the building that houses it has been designated for closure. Stay tuned...

"As From a Quiver of Arrows"

I'm chagrinned to admit that I'd never heard of the poet Carl Phillips until The Atlantic's daily newsletter included his 1995 poem, "As From a Quiver of Arrows" (first published in that magazine) in today's edition. My gaydar was activated well before I got to the line that removed all my doubt, and further confirmation came when I discovered that his "Pastoral" won the 2001 Lambda Literary Award for Best Poetry. (I won't give that line away here; read the poem for yourself.) On the strength of what I've found online, I think Mr. Phillips is a prime candidate for a future BookMen reading list.

Gotham Gorey Squared

Those of you whose appetite for Edward Gorey's art was whetted by our April discussion of Born to Be Posthumous: The Eccentric Life and Mysterious Genius of Edward Gorey will want to check out this auction. But hurry! Bidding closes this Wednesday, June 30. (A hat tip to our friend Lee Levine for sharing the link.) 

Last Exit to Brooklyn

On the first page of Hubert Selby Jr.'s opening story, "Another Day Another Dollar," the word "Scatah" appears. I'm pretty sure this means "shit" in Greek. σκατά (skatá).

E-Gatsby!

Last week, 14 of us gathered online for a lively discussion of The Great Gatsby. By coincidence (?), just two days later Ron Charles used his weekly Washington Post Book Club newsletter to highlight several new books that riff on Fitzgerald's classic, now that it has entered the public domain. 

First up, published back in January, is Michael Farris Smith's Nick, a prequel that imagines Carraway's ordeal in World War I and then follows him to New Orleans. Hot off the press is The Chosen and the Beautiful by Nghi Vo, in which Jordan Baker, a queer Vietnamese orphan in this version, narrates what is now a gothic fantasy. As Ron Charles says in his review: "The partygoers drink demon blood, sorcery twists the beams of reality, and Jay Gatsby is a bisexual vampire. Finally, the story makes sense!"

If that isn't wild enough for you, then how about this final tidbit from Charles? "Nineteen students at the University of Iowa have reportedly sold their adaptation of the novel to Independent Pictures and Fugitive Films. Gilded in Ash, the product of a creative English course last fall, reimagines Gatsby as an African American woman who works as an art forger. No word yet on whether the studio will actually make the movie, but as Nick says, 'Reserving judgment is a matter of infinite hope.'"

The Art of Losing

The June 18 New York Times Books section includes a moving essay about one of Elizabeth Bishop's best-known poems, "One Art," written toward the end of her life in the midst of a prolonged separation from her partner, Alice Methfessel. (Her grief over losing both her parents while quite young, and the suicide of her first lover, Lota de Macedo Soares, presumably fueled the poem's air of quiet desolation, as well.) 

In "19 Lines that Turn Anguish into Art," critics Dwight Garner and Parul Sehgal analyze the poem's imagery and structure, which is almost, but not quite, a villanelle--the only time she ever employed that form. They also note that Bishop, who was not by nature a confessional writer, reworked the poem quite substantially over several years. Even if you already know "One Art," I daresay you will find Garner and Sehgal's reflections on it here well worth your time.

Documenting LGBTQ History

As a history major with a lifelong interest in documenting the past--especially, but not only, the experiences of LGBTQ folks--I found this Atlas Obscura piece fascinating: "The Precious, Precarious Work of Queer Archiving in the Pacific Northwest." Here in the DMV, the Rainbow History Project pursues the same noble mission. If you aren't familiar with their work, I invite you to check out the link and consider supporting them.

Three out of 10 ain't bad!

On the first Wednesday of each month, the Washington Post Style section presents a roundup of new books. It just so happens that of the 10 titles encompassed in the June edition, three are LGBTQ-oriented: Kristen Arnett's With Teeth: A Novel; The Engagement: America's Quarter-Century Struggle over Same-Sex Marriage, by Sasha Issenberg; and Brandon Taylor's Filthy Animals: Stories. Possible fodder for our next reading list?

"A Skillful First Novel"

In preparing for last night's discussion of David Leavitt's first novel, The Lost Language of Cranes, I was curious about what book reviewers said about it 35 years ago. Christopher Lehmann-Haupt's review in the Sept. 11, 1986, New York Times is insightful in some ways and maddeningly obtuse in others. Here's his final paragraph: "The cumulative effect of [its] flaws finally keeps this novel from taking flight. But it's not its subject that limits it, as far as I can see. And this in itself is a small revelation, and suggests that Mr. Leavitt's future may be one worth watching." That, at least, Mr. Lehmann-Haupt got right. 

Seven Books for Pride Month

The Lily, a Washington Post offshoot geared to women, has put together "Seven Books by Trans and Nonbinary Authors to Read This Pride Month." I must confess that I've never heard of any of these authors, but a couple of the selections intrigue me: Meet Cute Diary, a Young Adult novel by Noah Ramirez, and The Subtweet, a novel by Vivek Shraya. 

The Walt Whitman Archive

When we discussed Walt Whitman's Live Oak, with Moss back on May 5, I promised to share a couple of online resources that I've found particularly illuminating regarding the poet, his works and his life. Chief among them is the Walt Whitman Archive, which offers one-stop shopping for scholarly discussion. But I also want to draw your attention to Whitman scholar Karen Karbiener--who, you'll recall, furnished the afterword in the illustrated edition of Live Oak we used. (Apologies for my tardiness in posting this.)

Queer Poets of Color

Today's selection from Poem-a-Day (a resource I've touted here before), Luther Hughes' "When Struck by Night," is powerful in its own right. It also triggered my (not always reliable) gaydar, and sure enough, it led me to Frontier Poetry and "Luther Hughes' 10 Poems by QPOC that Popped me in the Mouth and Told me to Watch What I ****ing Say in 2019." Check it out!

"After Francesco"

Back in 2004, our group discussed Brian Malloy's novel, The Year of Ice. He will be doing a virtual launch of his latest book, After Francesco, this Thursday, May 27, at 8 p.m. EDT. The writers appearing with him will include Christopher Bram, author of Gods and Monsters and Eminent Outlaws: The Gay Writers Who Changed America (both of which our group has also discussed), among many other works. The Zoom event, sponsored by Quatrefoil Library and Moon Palace Books, is free but requires advance registration.

Another queer poet to know: Kyle Carrero Lopez

The Atlantic recently featured a poem by Kyle Carrero Lopez titled "Black Erasure" in its daily newsletter to subscribers. As its title suggests, the poem pulls no punches but is also imbued with humor. The Cuban-American poet co-founded LEGACY: A Black Queer Production Collective and is the author of the chapbook Muscle Memory (winner of the 2020 PANK Books Book Contest), which will be published in June.

Happy 22nd Birthday to Us! 🌈

On May 11, 1999, Potomac Gay Men’s Book Group, the original incarnation of our intrepid band, met for the first time. And 22 years later, we’re still going strong!   

For a good overview of our illustrious history, here is the profile Metro Weekly published in conjunction with our big 20th-birthday bash at the D.C. Center. The Washington Blade also ran an article, but it's a bit cumbersome to get to; you have to click on the PDF file and scroll to p. 38. And, of course, there are various postings on the subject from the spring of 2019 on this blog (scroll down to "Older Posts," select 2019 and go from there).

Stephen Fry spills the tea!

English actor and comedian Stephen Fry was the subject of the May 2 New York Times Magazine's Talk feature. The whole interview is great fun, but the most delicious part for me was a story Fry tells about Gore Vidal. I don't want to steal the Times' thunder by recounting it here, but I'll say this much: It lends new meaning to the term "full service!"

Hemingway/Heringway?

Ken Burns and Lynn Novick's latest PBS project, "Hemingway," has renewed interest in the legendary writer. One important facet of his personality that the series reportedly brings out (full disclosure: I haven't yet watched it) is that despite his carefully cultivated reputation for machismo, Hemingway insisted that all four of his wives keep their hair cut short and dominate him in bed. (This kink may well have been at least partly the legacy of his domineering mother's insistence on dressing Ernest and his sister identically until their teens.)

The question of Hemingway's potential bisexuality had already surfaced in his incomplete novel, The Garden of Eden, posthumously published in 1986. In it, a young American writer, David Bourne, and his glamorous wife, Catherine, fall in love with the same woman. But I was not aware, until BookMen member Richard Schaefers brought it to my attention (thanks!), that the series also references his 1927 short story, "A Simple Enquiry" (sic). Here is a synopsis (adapted from Wikipedia): "Three Italian soldiers are snowbound. The senior officer, the Major, calls a 19-year-old orderly into his room and asks him whether he has ever loved a woman. Most critics interpret the ensuing conversation as the major propositioning the orderly. When his questions are rebuffed, the major dismisses the orderly on the understanding that he will not report the matter."

Richard also notes another Hemingway story, "The Sea Change," in which a man and his female partner, who is having an affair with another woman, discuss the situation.

Another gay poet to know: Kaveh Akbar

Earlier this week, I posted an item spotlighting Poem-a-Day, which recently featured a gay African-American poet, Cyrus Cassells. The April 23 edition of that service brought "My Father's Accent" by Kaveh Akbar, a gay Iranian-American writer who is currently poetry critic at The Nation and has published several collections. In contrast with Cassells, whose work tends to be sensuous and lyrical, Akbar's style is rough and gritty, and his poems overflow with violent images--as in a 2017 poem, "Ways to Harm a Thing." To put it another way: If you like Dennis Cooper novels, you'll probably like Akbar's poetry.

 

Nocturnes for the King of Naples

The title of Edmund White's novel comes from a series of nocturnes composed by Franz Joseph Haydn.

Around 1785, Joseph Haydn was commissioned to perform a series of concerts for King Ferdinand IV of Naples. It was an unusual assignment, because the works had to be written for two players of the "lira organizzata," a kind of hurdy-gurdy with a small, built-in organ. This instrument, of which no specimen has survived, was very popular on the streets of Naples at the time. The king himself was a virtuoso player of an improved version of the instrument, which had been designed by Norbert Hadrava, an Austrian legation secretary in Naples. 

Hadrava continued to write to various composers, including Haydn, to compose works for the lira. Around 1788, Hadrava gave the composer a new commission, this time for a number of "Notturni" for two lira, winds and strings. Even during Haydn's lifetime, these works were performed in various arrangements, with flute and oboe or two flutes substituted for the lira. Some of these nocturnes have been released on CD by the ensembles Mozzafiato and L'Archibudelli, among others. 

Where Bookmen can get their books

Ernie Raskauskas reminds us that the Montgomery County Public Library system often has multiple copies of the books we discuss available. (A tribute to our good taste!). For example, it has 17 copies of our upcoming selection, Live Oak, with Moss, on its shelves. And you do not have to be a resident of the county or even the state to borrow these books. They're available, free of charge, to anyone in the DMV with a library card via interlibrary loan.

As a bonus, the more often LGBTQ titles are borrowed from libraries, the stronger the case librarians can make for ordering more of them. And in honor of Earth Day, here's one more incentive to go the borrowing route: Using libraries is like recycling.  🌈

Nabokov and Edmund White

 I want to correct something I said last night.  Nabokov did not say "Nocturnes for the Kind of Naples" was the best book he'd read that year (Nabokov died in 1977).  He said that about White's first novel "Forgetting Elena."  Edmund White and Nabokov never met in person but they had phone conversations.  

Happy National Poetry Month!

A few months ago, I signed up for Poem-a-Day, a free service from the Academy of American Poets that disseminates contemporary poetry. Each e-mail also offers a podcast option so you can hear the poets read their work. While I'm no expert, I'd say the site's daily offerings maintain a high standard, and even the relatively few poems that don't resonate with me are still worth reading. 

I particularly appreciate the opportunity to sample the output of lots of writers I'd never known about before, such as Cyrus Cassells. There was nothing obviously gay about his "How Many Lives Have We Lived in Paris?" but let's just say I got a vibe, which was borne out when I read more of his work. He's published eight poetry collections, so I plan to keep him in mind as a candidate for a future BookMen reading list.

Moffie, the Movie

A film adaptation of Andre Carl van der Merwe's 2006 novel, Moffie, is now available on streaming devices; here is the Metro Weekly review. Our friend Ernie Raskauskas reminds me that he has nominated the book for our reading list three times--most recently, last year. Maybe seeing it on screen will generate more votes for the book next time? 😀

The Talented Ms. Highsmith

As we approach the 22nd anniversary of our founding (May 11, 1999), I've been spending some time perusing the long list of "Books We Have Read" (scroll down on the blog homepage for that). For example, I see that we read two novels by Patricia Highsmith in our early days: The Talented Mr. Ripley in 2000 and The Price of Salt in 2005. Over the past several months, the New York Times' T Book Club has run three essays about those novels and their film adaptations that those of you who enjoy her work should check out. In reverse chronological order, they are:

April 8: Kerry Manders considered the question, "Do Patricia Highsmith Novels Make Good Films?" 

March 24: Edmund White finds in The Talented Mr. Ripley a "Shape-Shifting Protagonist Who's Up to No Good." (Among the many things I learned is that the novel is just the first in a series of five!)

Nov. 12, 2020: Megan O'Grady explains how that novel "foretold our age of grifting."

Last but not least, in January Richard Bradford published a  biography of the novelist: Devils, Lusts and Strange Desires: The Life of Patricia Highsmith. Here's Wendy Smith's review in the Post.