5 Giftable Books for the Holidays

Here are Five Giftable Books (In no particular order):

1. Fun Home: A Family Tragicomic by Alison Bechdel. Mariner Books. (Paperback.) Ideal stocking-stuffer. What's not to love? Alison Bechdel, creator of Dykes to Watch Out For, pens a memoir about her life with a father who was probably queer and maybe a child molester, but he never quite talked about it. The backdrop is a funeral home. And it's written as a graphic novel. This is an exceptional work. It is a sincere attempt by Alison Bechdel to understand her father. I strongly recommend this book.
2. Hollywood at Home by Architectural Digest, Gerald Clarke, Paige Rense. Abrams. (Hardcover.) Ignore the tacky John Travolta Florida home on the cover. This is the ideal coffee table book for the queer on your list. Probably worth the price for the Cary Grant/Randolph Scott photos alone. (Only Kenneth Anger's Hollywood Babylon photos do more to reinforce the queer Cary Grant theory.) Also: Gorgeous photos of queer icon/reactionary Katharine (Or is it Kate?) Hepburn's house. Add in one of Judy Garland's houses and some fabulously campy photos of Jayne Mansfield's fantasy bedroom--red leather walls and all. Trust me on this.
3. Cary Grant: The Biography by Marc Eliot. Aurum Press. (Paperback.) Some biographies seem to inhabit their subject--such as William Mann's almost-miraculous Kate. Other biographies are written more like legal arguments. Mr. Eliot's Cary Grant is a biography of the latter variety. It is also very good. At times Mr. Eliot plays the attorney for the prosecution--carefully dissecting Cary Grant's complex relationship with J. Edgar Hoover, but just as often he steps in as the lawyer for the defense. For whatever faults he might have had, Cary Grant is presented as a sympathetic figure. A man who literally started out with nothing and ended up leaving roughly seventy million dollars to his survivors. A man haunted by a horrible childhood. A man who explored his own identity through many therapeutic sessions with LSD. In the end, Mr. Grant comes across as something that is now so rare in our society it has become hard to define: a gentleman.
4. The Man Who Invented Rock Hudson: The Pretty Boys and Dirty Deals of Henry Wilson by Robert Hofler. Carrol and Graf. (Paperback.) Mr. Hofler accurately portrays the slightly sleazy life of the agent who brought us not only Rock Hudson, but also Tab Hunter, Troy Donahue and Robert Wagner. And Henry Wilson didn't just represent these icons; he created them--giving them new personaes and (usually) new names. (Of all these clients, only Robert Wagner kept his original name.) It's a dirty world that Mr. Hofler re-creates. He also puts it all in context--illustrating how heterosexual agents and studio heads continously used their positions to sexually harass women. For example, he points out that Daryl Zanuck had a room off his office for "auditioning" the female talent. If Henry Wilson was sleazy, his sleaziness paled in comparison with the boys who really ran Hollywood. In the end, Henry Wilson represents a parenthesis in film history. But this parenthesis is juicy.
5. Ridiculous! The Theatrical Life and Times of Charles Ludlam by David Kaufman. Applause Books. (Paperback.) Probably the most difficult biography in the world to write is the biography of a stage personality. Without a film record, the reader must enter into the subject's world cold. How can we, for example, know the magic of Sarah Bernhardt or Nell Gwynn? Whose account can we turn to? And how accurate will that account be? The theatre is perhaps the most subjective of all the arts (ironic because the experience is collective). So how do you show (not just tell) the story of Charles Ludlam: the theatrical phenomenon of the Ridiculous Theatre Company in Sheridan Square? A man who died of AIDS at the age of forty-four just a few months before he was scheduled to make his debut on Broadway? David Kaufman does not appear to possess a magic wand. Nor does he demonstrate any supernatural powers. Instead, he just works hard--interviewing seemingly everyone involved in the, at times, rag tag productions Charles Ludlam pushed through. The effect is an incomplete mosaic. Incomplete because Mr. Ludlam's life was arbitrarily ended by AIDS. No, Mr. Kaufman's book does not have a happy ending. But it it is story that needed to be told.

Sad News: Alan Berube 1946-2007

In this week's Gay City News Paul Schindler reports that the great queer historian Alan Berube died on Tuesday. Mr. Berube was a fine writer and a brave man. He wrote about about bravery in his classic book, Coming out Under Fire. And he himself was a courageous activist--against the Vietnam War and for LGBT rights. How sad.

Today is World AIDS Day. (Don't say: Happy World AIDS Day.) 7,000 Africans will die of AIDS today. Read this book:

When did you stop caring about AIDS? I mean, really caring about AIDS? Was it around the time the "cocktail" started saving lives? Or maybe shortly after you tested negative for the virus? Are you old enough to remember a time when ACT-UP meetings were literally filled to capacity--standing room only? Remember how people said they wouldn't stop fighting until a cure was found? And until everyone had access to this cure? Do you remember chanting that slogan: "Health care is a right"? Let's face it, the gay community has stopped caring about AIDS. It's almost as though we don't want to be associated with it. Because AIDS turns sex upside down--making sex a potentially deadly act. For thousands of years gay sex has been labelled "sinful" partially because it is a non-reproductive act--the only reason to do it is to have fun. The popularity of birth control rendered this argument moot. It is a bitter irony that at this point in history AIDS arrived on the scene. Thus a new argument was formed: Gay = AIDS; AIDS= Death. Then came the "cocktail" and gradually the condoms disappeared from the bars, information about safe sex became much harder to find. Gays stopped talking about AIDS. Politicians stopped talking about AIDS. Will and Grace never once mentioned AIDS. Admit it. You are just a bit bummed that a heterosexual geek like Bill Gates is doing a lot more about AIDS now than you are. Or anyone you know. Or anyone who knows anyone you know. You probably have been following the cast changes for The Color Purple a lot closer than you've been following the AIDS crisis in Africa. It's time to smarten up. And the woman who will help you is named Nicole Itano. She spent five years in Southern Africa so you could better understand what is going on there. Ms. Itano's writing style is flawless. I don't know when I have read a more technically correct manuscript. She writes from her heart and she isn't afraid of getting too involved. She occassionally finds herself giving people food and even money. She's passionate. And in her own quiet way an activist. The Africa she projects isn't Born Free. This part of Southern Africa--Lesotho--is literally dirt poor. Food is cooked on a fire lit against a wall on the outside of the house. More affluent families have propane cookers inside. Luxury is Kentucky Fried Chicken. It is shockingly sad that this deprived area--an apartheid era creation--should be so badly hit by the AIDS crisis. Ms. Itano describes in detail the one sector of the economy that by the year 2004 was booming: the funeral industry. And yet for all the despair, this is a surprisingly hopeful book. The Gates Foundation and other non-governmental organizations (NGOs) are making visible progress. No one can deny that people with AIDS in Lesotho have far more treatment options than they did--say--four years ago. But the crisis that Ms. Itano describes won't be entirely over until health care is a right. Remember that slogan?

Nicole Itano's

No Place Left to Bury the Dead

is published by Atria Books.

Good News for Queer Readers: Kate is Now in Paperback

Having read William Mann's classic queer Hollywood history, Behind the Screen, I expected his new Katharine Hepburn biography to be very good. It isn't very good. It's great. Mr. Mann's Kate: The Woman Who Was Hepburn may just be the best-written movie star biography ever. Without resorting to any tricks or gimmicks, he seems to inhabit the character of Katharine Hepburn. And, as a result, the reader comes to understand her in a profound way. It's a rare achievement in literature--particularly rare in a film actor biography. But Mr. Mann chose his subject well. For Katharine Hepburn is one of the most paradoxical of all the Hollywood stars. A feminist icon who wore slacks and remained unmarried throughout her long screen career. An independent woman who somehow periodically became subservient to an alcoholic man named Spencer Tracy. A liberal who never said a word against the Vietnam War. A cultural reactionary who denied the existence of (male) homosexuality and firmly advised women that they most definitely can not 'have it all.'

At no point in Mr. Mann's 656 page biography does he actually come out and say (for example): Katharine Hepburn was a lesbian who lived her life in the closet. Instead he brilliantly, painstakingly illustrates how Katharine Hepburn constructed a separate, alternate personality carefully designed for public consumption. The book takes its title from the name of this alternate personality.  Friends and family would call her "Kath" or even "Katy," but Kate became her public persona.

So while Katharine Hepburn could be verbally abusive on the set of a Broadway show, none of it ever happened to Kate. And while Katharine Hepburn had numerous lesbian relationships, none of it ever happened to Kate. And in later years, when Katharine Hepburn succumbed to drinking alcohol heavily, none of it ever happened to Kate.

Where Ms. Hepburn's reality began and where the for-the-public's consumption Kate version ended was an open question. The denial of her homosexuality (perhaps even to herself) was just part of the construction of Kate. Early on she was re-writing her gay brother's obvious suicide as an accident. The truth is: Kate represented something Katharine Hepburn wanted to believe. She wanted to believe that her brother's death was an accident. She wanted to believe that she was heterosexual--or at the very least, not a lesbian. So if Kate represented something the public wanted to believe about her, Kate also represented something she wanted to believe about herself.

Reading Mr. Mann's book, it is difficult not to admire Ms. Hepburn's accomplishments. At an early age she achieved success on Broadway in spite of the fact that quintessential New Yorkers like George S. Kaufman and Dorothy Parker despised her. Then she successfully negotiated with film industry executives--leveraging the entirely false impression that she was rich in order to get more money. She had a very successful career in film. It was also a very long career: over sixty years. And yet, I must confess, I've never particularly been a fan of Katharine Hepburn. It always seemed to me that she was too controlled--that she was holding back. But the other day I happened to turn on TCM and there she was on the Dick Cavett show, her feet tucked onto the chair, hair occasionally falling into her face--delighted with herself. I was surprised at how much I liked her. She seemed so natural, I actually forgot that I was watching a performance--her greatest role of all: Kate.

William Mann's Kate: The Woman Who Was Hepburn

is available in paperback.

October 30, 2007

Picador

Sad News for Queer Readers in Chelsea

The Chelsea Barnes and Noble is closing.

Since the closing of A Different Light Bookstore, Barnes and Noble has served as the de facto queer bookstore for Chelsea. And it has served the queer community well. They have stocked titles by smaller presses, promoted queer titles and even had several prominent queer writers read there--Andrew Holleran read his most recent novel, Grief, at this branch.

Now comes the sad, sad news that this Barnes and Noble branch will soon be closing. This will leave New York's queerest neighborhood without one bookstore. Rainbows and Triangles--the gay-owned Eighth Avenue gift shop--will be the largest bookseller in the neighborhood.

Armistead Maupin's new novel is excellent

Yes, I know that is the most predictable headline so far. (And I'm a little late reporting it.) But it's okay to get excited about this. Michael Tolliver Lives is an emotionally engrossing novel that is also frequently laugh out-loud funny.

The story is told in the first person by Michael Tolliver--one of the main characters in the Tales of the City books. By making this choice, Mr. Maupin infuses the novel with a bouyant optimism. And this optimism is sorely tested. For while the novel begins with Michael in good shape--thriving on the anti-HIV cocktail, married to a nice (much younger) man--some of the people in his life are not doing so well. Namely: his mother in Florida and a woman named Anna Madrigal.

I'm not going to give away any more of the plot, except to say that this novel does not disappoint. The literary quality is superb. And it's a genuine page-turner.

Is it flawless? No. Much of the action is dialogue-driven. No big problem there. One could say the same of Hemingway or Fitzgerald. But Mr. Maupin occasionally falls into the trap of revealing more in the dialogue than is organic. And the O'Henry-esque plot twists sometimes give the novel an artificial feel. Also: the book is marred by an unfortunate anti-Muslim joke near the end. Unfortunate because it isn't funny. Unfortunate because the joke seems so out of character coming from a man who is so politically correct he even drives a Prius.

But these are relatively minor flaws. And if you think about it, even great books have minor flaws.

It's time to take a step back. "Get the big picture," as they taught us in Driver's Education.

Armistead Maupin is alive and well and writing at the top of his form. So go ahead. Get excited.

Armistead Maupin's new novel,

Michael Tolliver Lives

is published by Harper Collins.

Happy Gay Pride...Now read Stonewall

Gay Pride weekend is once again upon us. And once again we are about to be subjected to numerous reverent references to Stonewall. The survivors of that 1969 riot will march at the front of our parades. And they will be referred to as "veterans"--a militaristic term that implies honorable legitimacy. And yet--let's face it--most of us really don't know a lot about Stonewall. And much of what we know is wrong.

In his book, Stonewall, The Riots that Sparked the Gay Revolution, David Carter debunks many of the popular myths about the Stonewall riots. But his writing style isn't at all didactic. Instead, Mr. Carter writes like a good novelist: he shows much and tells very little. By interweaving the stories of a diverse group of individuals, he constructs a genuine page-turner. And, along the way, many popular misconceptions are corrected. For example: the myth that it was mainly drag queens who rioted. While Mr. Carter makes it clear that transvestites were an important, integral part of the riot, he also goes to great lengths to describe just how diverse the crowd in the bar was that night. And he makes a strong argument that the person who actually started the riot was a lesbian.

It's such an interesting story, one wonders why it hasn't been made into a TV mini-series yet. In this day of Logo etc., that doesn't seem too far-fetched. But maybe the notion of a story where the rioters are the good guys is still too much for our corporate media. In the meantime, it makes a great book.

David Carter's

Stonewall: The Riots that Sparked the Gay Revolution

is in available in paperback.

St. Martins

Finally a reason to rejoice...

The state of queer fiction is miserable. Fewer and fewer queer titles are being published. And those that are published don't sell, because they aren't very good. It is not the intention of this blog to dwell on the negative. This blog represents a sincere attempt to seek out quality queer literature wherever it is. Keeping this in mind, let us take a moment to rejoice.

Andrew Holleran's Grief is now in paperback.

I suspect that many of you have been waiting for this. Not just for the retail price to drop to $12.00. Not just for this slim volume to be available in that much more handy format--fits so easily into the beach bag. You've been waiting for the critical dust to settle--so you could determine if it really was in a league with Mr. Holleran's great American queer novel, Dancer from the Dance.

Well, I am happy to report that it is. The quality of the writing in Grief is at least as good as in Dancer from the Dance. And Grief goes deeper. This short novel asks an open question: What is grief? Is it a finite condition, from which one must inevitably recover--an emotional flesh wound? Or is it something much more profound--an almost-mystical presence of the departed? "...grief is what we have after someone dies," Mr. Holleran's unnamed narrator states. "It's the only thing left of that person."

Mr. Holleran doesn't propose to answer this open question. And the main character's accidental discovery of the diaries of Mary Todd Lincoln doesn't foreshadow a new age happy ending. (There will be no workbook to accompany this text.) But Grief is always interesting--sometimes in surprising ways. The injection of United States history is both organic and entertaining.

Andrew Holleran's newest novel is only 150 pages long. You might find yourself reading it in one sitting. Or you might find yourself stretching it out to two or three readings. It's hard to finish it--hard to say goodbye to it. But that's what Grief is all about, right?

Andrew Holleran's Grief is available in paperback.

June 6, 2007

Hyperion