As promised in the post below, here are links to several poems by Andrea Gibson:
“How the Worst Day of My Life Became the Best”
“Tincture”
“Instead of Depression”
“In the chemo room, I wear mittens made of ice so I don’t lose my fingernails. But I took a risk today to write this down.”
Tuesday, July 22, 2025
Discovering Andrea Gibson
I'm truly sorry to say that I'd never even heard of Andrea Gibson, a queer, non-binary poet and performance artist who was poet laurate of Colorado, before her death last week at the age of 49 from ovarian cancer. But as I read the excerpts from her writing included in the various tributes to her, I felt a real affinity to her voice--one that makes me want to read more of her work.
This post compiles obituaries and appreciations of Ms. Gibson (who used they/them pronouns); the one above will include samples of her poetry.
Associated Press obituary
The Atlantic: "Andrea Gibson Refused to ‘Battle’ Cancer"
New York Times obituary
Washington Post obituary
2018 Washington Post interview
This post compiles obituaries and appreciations of Ms. Gibson (who used they/them pronouns); the one above will include samples of her poetry.
Associated Press obituary
The Atlantic: "Andrea Gibson Refused to ‘Battle’ Cancer"
New York Times obituary
Washington Post obituary
2018 Washington Post interview
Tuesday, July 15, 2025
Trash as treasure
A tip of the hat to Ted Coltman for sharing this fascinating Substack article, "Unearthing Queer DC: What Household Trash Reveals About the Past." As Ted notes, the period it covers "slightly predates the period covered by Secret City, but I thought it might be of interest to BookMen DC." Thanks, Ted!
RIP, Richard Greenberg
Back in 2004, our group discussed Richard Greenberg's 2002 play, "Take Me Out," about a gay major-leaguer who comes out to his team and the public. "Take Me Out" won multiple Tony Awards, both in its original 2002 run and the 2022 revival.
The playwright passed away on July 4 at the age of 67. Although he is probably best-known for "Take Me Out," he had more than 30 plays produced on Broadway and off. Many of them dealt with the manners and mores of New York’s upper middle class.
Strangely, neither his New York Times obituary nor the one in the Washington Post spells out that Greenberg was gay, even though that was widely known. But both note that several of his plays featured gay characters and themes.
I have tonight's All-Star game on in the background as I write this, and it occurs to me that more than 20 years after "Take Me Out" premiered, no major-league baseball player has yet come out as gay. As the saying goes, sometimes truth really is stranger (and sadder) than fiction.
The playwright passed away on July 4 at the age of 67. Although he is probably best-known for "Take Me Out," he had more than 30 plays produced on Broadway and off. Many of them dealt with the manners and mores of New York’s upper middle class.
Strangely, neither his New York Times obituary nor the one in the Washington Post spells out that Greenberg was gay, even though that was widely known. But both note that several of his plays featured gay characters and themes.
I have tonight's All-Star game on in the background as I write this, and it occurs to me that more than 20 years after "Take Me Out" premiered, no major-league baseball player has yet come out as gay. As the saying goes, sometimes truth really is stranger (and sadder) than fiction.
Thursday, July 3, 2025
A purely hypothetical question, I'm sure!
The latest edition of the New York Times' Magazine's "The Ethicist" column poses a question that I suspect many book groups have wrestled with at some point. I'm sharing it for amusement value only. (Really! :-).
A Woman in My Book Club Never Reads the Books. Can I Expose Her?
"I am a member of a lovely, well-established book group of very thoughtful, well-read women. Recently I’ve become aware that one woman, whom I see socially outside the group, often doesn’t read the books, but instead relies on reading online reviews for a perspective about them. She then speaks with great authority at the meetings, as though those are her personal opinions, without crediting the source and without admitting that she didn’t read the book. In the days before a meeting, she will casually share with me that she “couldn’t get into it,” but she never says so to the other members. I sit there steaming but don’t reveal her duplicity. What would you do?" Name Withheld
From the Ethicist:
"I get why you’re peeved. These gatherings thrive on authentic engagement, and when a person parachutes in with secondhand wisdom, it’s like bringing a paint-by-numbers kit to a life-drawing class. Still, the first rule of book clubs is that someone will always show up having read only the first chapter and the last page, armed with three profound observations from Goodreads. Your job, in any case, isn’t to police her page turns. Cast yourself as the enforcer, and you betray the spirit of a group dedicated to forging connections through stories.
Instead, consider pulling her aside after the next meeting. Let her know that her own reactions to the text will mean more than the stuff anyone can find online — that she’s depriving the group of her own authentic response. Critics can’t replicate what happens when a particular reader, someone you know, meets particular words at a particular moment in her life.
Yes, if she insists on dominating the discussion with borrowed insights, you could offer a gentle redirect — asking about a moment the reviewers may not have touched on. (“What did you make of Patrice’s experience as a waterjack?”) But the goal isn’t to humiliate her; it’s to steer the energy toward what matters: the strange, messy business of human beings encountering a book and trying to make sense of what it has done to them. Keep the focus there, and maintain your small, imperfect community. One thing you’ll have learned from your books, after all, is that the flawed characters are always the most human."
And here are the reader responses that ran the following week:
For the book group I belong to, there isn’t a meeting that goes by without someone who hasn’t had time to read or to finish the book. However, the nonreader of a particular book may hear something about it during our discussion that makes her curious and want to read it, so we simply don’t care. Every group member has demands on her time, and we all make allowances for this fact. We all treasure our group, and we feel that censuring someone for not completing this voluntary “assignment” would be immaterial and inappropriate. — Ariel
Many book clubs provide the comfort of social connection and a much-needed feeling of belonging. There are always people in every book club who either hate every book or never read them. The nonreading woman is clearly motivated to attend the book club get-togethers, so why rob her of the experience and judge her so harshly? There maybe private reasons her friend is failing to read the books — affordability of reading glasses, cognitive decline, excessive home duties, access to the book. There is no actual harm being caused by the nonreader attending the book club, but a lot of harm could be caused to her by naming and shaming her in front of the group. — Cassandra
I found it interesting that the book club member’s instinct was to “out” the nonreader as opposed to calling her out in the private moment when she shares that she didn’t read the book. Wouldn’t that be an easier, less aggressive way of chatting about the issue? Maybe she could encourage her to chat at the next meeting about why the book stunk, and she didn’t want to bother reading it? That, too, could make for an interesting and honest book club discussion! — Michelle
I’m also in a book club, and every month about two or three people don’t finish the book. They couldn’t get into it, didn’t have enough time, didn’t like the book to begin with — the usual. I wonder what kind of environment your book club is cultivating where people don’t feel comfortable admitting that they couldn’t finish the book. — Leonardo
Is she old enough to be experiencing dementia? The ability to read and process the entire book could be impossible for her, yet she wants to maintain the fellowship and connection to the group. But anyway, so what? She researches, she stimulates the conversation. That’s what you want in a good book-club member. Give yourself a gold star for reading all the books, and keep your mouth shut. — Darr
A Woman in My Book Club Never Reads the Books. Can I Expose Her?
"I am a member of a lovely, well-established book group of very thoughtful, well-read women. Recently I’ve become aware that one woman, whom I see socially outside the group, often doesn’t read the books, but instead relies on reading online reviews for a perspective about them. She then speaks with great authority at the meetings, as though those are her personal opinions, without crediting the source and without admitting that she didn’t read the book. In the days before a meeting, she will casually share with me that she “couldn’t get into it,” but she never says so to the other members. I sit there steaming but don’t reveal her duplicity. What would you do?" Name Withheld
From the Ethicist:
"I get why you’re peeved. These gatherings thrive on authentic engagement, and when a person parachutes in with secondhand wisdom, it’s like bringing a paint-by-numbers kit to a life-drawing class. Still, the first rule of book clubs is that someone will always show up having read only the first chapter and the last page, armed with three profound observations from Goodreads. Your job, in any case, isn’t to police her page turns. Cast yourself as the enforcer, and you betray the spirit of a group dedicated to forging connections through stories.
Instead, consider pulling her aside after the next meeting. Let her know that her own reactions to the text will mean more than the stuff anyone can find online — that she’s depriving the group of her own authentic response. Critics can’t replicate what happens when a particular reader, someone you know, meets particular words at a particular moment in her life.
Yes, if she insists on dominating the discussion with borrowed insights, you could offer a gentle redirect — asking about a moment the reviewers may not have touched on. (“What did you make of Patrice’s experience as a waterjack?”) But the goal isn’t to humiliate her; it’s to steer the energy toward what matters: the strange, messy business of human beings encountering a book and trying to make sense of what it has done to them. Keep the focus there, and maintain your small, imperfect community. One thing you’ll have learned from your books, after all, is that the flawed characters are always the most human."
And here are the reader responses that ran the following week:
For the book group I belong to, there isn’t a meeting that goes by without someone who hasn’t had time to read or to finish the book. However, the nonreader of a particular book may hear something about it during our discussion that makes her curious and want to read it, so we simply don’t care. Every group member has demands on her time, and we all make allowances for this fact. We all treasure our group, and we feel that censuring someone for not completing this voluntary “assignment” would be immaterial and inappropriate. — Ariel
Many book clubs provide the comfort of social connection and a much-needed feeling of belonging. There are always people in every book club who either hate every book or never read them. The nonreading woman is clearly motivated to attend the book club get-togethers, so why rob her of the experience and judge her so harshly? There maybe private reasons her friend is failing to read the books — affordability of reading glasses, cognitive decline, excessive home duties, access to the book. There is no actual harm being caused by the nonreader attending the book club, but a lot of harm could be caused to her by naming and shaming her in front of the group. — Cassandra
I found it interesting that the book club member’s instinct was to “out” the nonreader as opposed to calling her out in the private moment when she shares that she didn’t read the book. Wouldn’t that be an easier, less aggressive way of chatting about the issue? Maybe she could encourage her to chat at the next meeting about why the book stunk, and she didn’t want to bother reading it? That, too, could make for an interesting and honest book club discussion! — Michelle
I’m also in a book club, and every month about two or three people don’t finish the book. They couldn’t get into it, didn’t have enough time, didn’t like the book to begin with — the usual. I wonder what kind of environment your book club is cultivating where people don’t feel comfortable admitting that they couldn’t finish the book. — Leonardo
Is she old enough to be experiencing dementia? The ability to read and process the entire book could be impossible for her, yet she wants to maintain the fellowship and connection to the group. But anyway, so what? She researches, she stimulates the conversation. That’s what you want in a good book-club member. Give yourself a gold star for reading all the books, and keep your mouth shut. — Darr
Tuesday, July 1, 2025
Pack some gay beach books
New York magazine's "The Cut" newsletter just published a list of 14 "Best Queer Beach Reads," which I offer for your consideration. I've heard of several of the selections, but the only one I've read is Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca--and that was a long time ago. The two selections that most pique my curiosity are The Short History of a Prince by Jane Hamilton, and Tramps Like Us by Joe Westmoreland. Take a look and see what appeals to you!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)