The Queen's Essays

One of the books we'll be discussing this winter (either January or February, most likely) is The Queen’s Throat: Opera, Homosexuality and the Mystery of Desire by Wayne Koestenbaum (introduction by Tony Kushner). Those of you who don't want to wait that long may wish to whet your appetite by checking out the Aug. 23 edition of Salon, which features excerpts from Koestenbaum's new memoir, My 1980s & Other Essays. 

Ural Uganda

Timely is Laurie Essig's essay "Russia's theory: Gay can be cured" in last Sunday's Washington Post. I was surprised—but I suppose I shouldn't—at how deformative decades of Stalinism have been. Given the general obliviousness to the profound otherness of Mother Russia, her book Queer in Russia (1999) may be not dated at all, but still timely!

The State of the Gay Novel

Greetings, Fellow Bookmen--

Salon just posted a fascinating essay by Daniel D'Addario titled "Where's the Buzzed-About Gay Novel?" that paints a pretty bleak picture of prospects for a breakthrough in the genre. D'Addario cites various factors to explain this, but it basically comes down to the classic dichotomy: Critically acclaimed novels tend not to be popular, and vice versa—a phenomenon he postulates particularly afflicts non-mainstream literary genres.

Among the examples D'Addario cites is a 2011 novel I'd nominated for our last reading list: The Art of Fielding, by Chad Harbach.  Alas, only a couple of you voted for it, and I'm embarrassed to say that I didn't go ahead and read it for my own pleasure.  But I've just ordered it, and if it lives up to expectations, I may well renominate it.  (You have been warned!  :-) 

Cheers, Steve 

OutWrite 2013

… is upon us (first weekend in August). Detailed information is at the DC Center or, for a quick look at the schedule, click on the image below.

"a Morris Finestein"

Posted for John:

In our excellent discussion of "The Ballad of the Sad Café" last night, one point we didn't get to: on p. 9 in the edition most of us had, speaking of Cousin Lymon, "one of the twins" says: "I'll be damned if he ain't a regular Morris Finestein." The narrator goes on to explain:

Morris Finestein was a person who had lived in the town years before. He was only a quick, skipping little Jew who cried if you called him a Christ-killer, and ate light bread and canned salmon every day. A calamity had come over him and he had moved away to Society City. But since then if a man were prissy in any way, or if a man ever wept, he was known as a Morris Finestein.

"Well, he is afflicted," said Stumpy MacPhail. 'There is some cause.'"

I infer the "calamity" was something that directly revealed that Finestein was homosexual. What makes the townsmen think of him at this point is the fact that Cousin Lymon has started crying. I don't know if MacPhail's comment implies he thinks maybe Lymon isn't actually a Finestein. But interesting that nothing further is said about this possible aspect of Lymon.

Anyway, I hope Finestein had a better time in Society City—sounds more like his kind of place.

P.S. I remember years (decades) ago running across a parody entitled "The Salad of the Bad Café". I just googled this title, and find that it is listed in the table of contents of Twentieth Century Parody: American and British, ed. Burling Lowrey and Nathaniel Benchley. The author of the parody was Julian MacLaren Ross, a British novelist. I haven't recovered the text. The googling also turned up all kinds of more recent stuff with the Salad title—a performance art piece, an Australian short story ...

Amelia Redgrave

I was vaguely aware that there had been a movie version of "The Ballad of the Sad Café" but hadn't checked it out until after our discussion last night. The trailer corresponds to nothing in my reading, but Vanessa Redgrave is always worth watching. And then I noticed on IMDb that Simon Callow had directed and that Edward Albee had written the screenplay … from his own 1963 adaptation of the novella (and by now it was beginning to all come back to me). The playscript is in print and might prove a worthwhile follow-up to last night's discussion.

The PLAYBOOK

For whatever reason (and for whatever it may be worth) this is the final paragraph, which didn't make it into the book (hardcopy):

Rules can feel restrictive and yet liberating. Sometimes, following the Grindr rules I feel mechanical, but I also understand they create a framework to interact within and knowing them makes each step feel more certain. Arrive at Grindr with a playful mindset, viewing it as a game—it'll make the rejections feel less stinging and the interaction more fun. Slow down the perusal of guys: check out one profile at a time to weaken the assessment mode. Message more people, because these apps are numbers games, using favourites to sort and blocks to clear, and, for better or worse, don't necessarily believe what people write. Remember that visuals count, and pick your profile image accordingly. Create profiles that are easy to understand, as to reduce ambiguity. Take a page from Twitter and Facebook and update profile pictures often (even if it is hard to let go of that super-cute picture from a few years ago) and attempt to go real-time because it introduces novelty and will draw more interest. It's okay to follow the Grindr script, because it helps reveal what each person is looking for. If it leads to an in-person meetup, do it immediately or within a short period to avoid shopping cart abandonment. Keep yourself sane by not setting crazy expectations upon the encounter (like love, for example). Use Grindr as an excuse to see the town, as you'll also draw new men on screen. And finally, don't depend on just Grindr, because it is the Cookie Crisp cereal part of the a [sic] complete breakfast.

All of which parts may seem obvious … but nicely put together, I think, as a whole.