Monday, October 31, 2022

Happy Halloween!

Although I am a longtime subscriber to the New Yorker, I am hopelessly behind on reading it. Ditto for the  many items the magazine posts to its Culture Desk blog, such as this essay by Nell Stevens: "What Ghost Stories Taught me about My Queer Self." In it, Nell Stevens discussing growing up gay in England while "promoting homosexuality" was still illegal, and recalls the literary works that comforted her and inspired her eventual coming out--many of them horror and suspense stories. (Oh, well: At least I'm posting this before the witching hour!)

Back in June, Stevens published a novel, Briefly: A Delicious Life, whose setup sounds quite, well, delicious: "In 1473, 14-year-old Bianca dies in a hilltop monastery in Mallorca. Nearly 400 years later, when George Sand, her two children, and her lover Frederic Chopin arrive in the village, Bianca is still there. A spirited, funny, righteous ghost, she's been hanging around the monastery since her accidental death, spying on the monks and townspeople and keeping track of her descendants."

Who Killed My Father


While in London last month, I caught an International Theater Amsterdam production, in association with the Young Vic, of "Who Killed My Father," based on the Edouard Louis memoir that will be on our next reading list. (We discussed his first memoir, The End of Eddy, back in 2017.) The play is quite intense and very good. I believe the author originated the role himself.  

I agree with everything Arifa Akbar says in her review of the play in The Guardian, but would add one detail. In the midst of all the intensity, there is a moment of humor (in a banal sense, anyway) when Eddy talks about obsessively watching the film "Titanic" as a boy. While the film plays on the console television on the stage, he does an imitation of Leonardo DiCaprio (or is he doing Kate Winslet?) on the front of the ship. 

 

Friday, October 14, 2022

It's that time again!

I've already thanked my fellow Bookmen via e-mail, but I also want to share in this channel the news that the nominations for our 2023 reading list encompass 35 titles! The nominees break down to 19 novels, six non-fiction works, six memoirs, biographies and autobiographies, a poetry collection, and three anthologies (and a partridge in a pear tree...:-) Thanks to everyone who submitted titles--now, please vote!


"For everyone who tried on the slipper..."

Normally, when I share LGBTQ poetry from the Poem-a-Day Foundation here, I give you the title, author's name and a link for each poem. But something about today's featured selection by Ariana Brown, "For everyone who tried on the slipper before Cinderella," touched me so deeply that I've decided to share the full text here:

For everyone who tried on the slipper before Cinderella

after Anis Mojgani and Audre Lorde

For those making tea in the soft light of Saturday morning 
in the peaceful kitchen 
in the cool house 
For those with shrunken hearts still trying to love 
For those with large hearts trying to forget 
For those with terrors they cannot name 
upset stomachs and too tight pants 
For those who get cut off in traffic 
For those who spend all day making an elaborate meal 
that turns out mediocre 
For those who could not leave 
even when they knew they had to 
For those who never win the lottery 
or become famous 
For those getting groceries on Friday nights 

There is something you know 
about living 
that you guard with your life 
your one fragile, wonderful life 
wonder, as in, awe, 
as in, I had no idea I would be here now

For those who make plans and those who don’t 
For those driving across the country to a highway that knows them 
For the routes we take in the dark, trusting 
For the roads for the woods for the dead humming in prayer 
For an old record and a strong sun
For teeth bared to the wind 
a pulse in the chest 
a body making love to itself 

There is every reason to hate it here 
There is a list of things making it bearable: 
your friend’s shoulder Texas barbecue a new book 
a loud song a strong song a highway that knows you 
sweet tea an orange cat a helping hand 
an unforgettable dinner 

a laugh that escapes you and deflates you 
like a pink balloon left soft with room 
for goodness to take hold 

For those who have looked in the mirror and begged
For those with weak knees and an attitude
For those called “sensitive” or “too much” 
For those not called enough
For the times you needed and went without
For the photo of you as a child 
quietly icing cupcakes your hair a crackling thunderstorm

Love is coming. 
It’s on its way. 
Look—

Copyright © 2022 by Ariana Brown. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on October 14, 2022, by the Academy of American Poets.