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