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!