Showing posts with label gay culture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gay culture. Show all posts

Monday, September 13, 2021

It's My Culture and I'll Cry If I Want To

In a similar vein, I came across this video clip today, of a famous speech from Larry Kramer's play The Normal Heart.  I've actually wanted to write about this speech for a good many years.  It has always annoyed me, and the passing of time hasn't made me hate it less.

Ned Weeks, Kramer's alter ego in the play, declaims:

I belong to a culture that includes Proust, Henry James, Tchaikovsky, Cole Porter, Plato, Socrates, Aristotle, Alexander the Great, Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, Christopher Marlowe, Walt Whitman, Herman Melville, Tennessee Williams, Byron, E. M. Forster, Lorca, Auden, Francis Bacon, James Baldwin, Harry Stack Sullivan, John Maynard Keynes, Dag Hammarskjöld . . 
Even granting Kramer a shitload of poetic / dramatic license, this is absurd.  The names will be familiar to gay men of Kramer's generation and mine that followed his, the rote list of Illustrious Homosexuals rattled off to prove that taking it in the butt didn't mean you couldn't achieve in other realms. It wasn't entirely an invalid pursuit, because there was a relentless drumbeat of propaganda aimed at erasing non-heterosexuals from history, and it was important to rebut it.  Much of our counterpropaganda was dubious at best, and there were always gay cynics who declared that it should in honesty include famous but less inspiring figures like, say, J. Edgar Hoover. The important point is that these men do not constitute a culture, certainly not in the singular. They come from numerous cultures, and they made their achievements in a heterosexual context.  Kramer's decision to list them is ironic, given his own fierce culture-of-therapy individualism.

Ned goes on: 

Bruce, did you know that it was an openly gay Englishman who was as responsible as any man for winning the Second World War? His name was Alan Turing and he cracked the Germans’ Enigma code so the Allies knew in advance what the Nazis were going to do—and when the war was over he committed suicide he was so hounded for being gay. Why don’t they teach any of this in the schools? If they did, maybe he wouldn’t have killed himself and maybe you wouldn’t be so terrified of who you are. The only way we’ll have real pride is when we demand recognition of a culture that isn’t just sexual.

This is shamefully dishonest on many levels.  Yes, Alan Turing did play a role in breaking the Nazis' secret codes, but he was only one of many people, most of them heterosexual and many of them women, engaged in that great project.  (Kramer was never much interested in women.)  Ned compresses the events leading up to Turing's suicide irresponsibly: Yes, Turing was not just "hounded" for being gay, he was prosecuted and convicted under British law for having sex with another male.  But how would teaching this fact "in the schools" have prevented Turing's suicide (which is how it's written here), or have made Bruce feel better about being gay.  Knowing the history of gay men's suffering is as likely to inculcate despair as "real pride."

As for "a culture that isn't just being sexual," Ned continues:

That’s how I want to be defined: as one of the men who fought the war. Being defined by our cocks is literally killing us. Must we all be reduced to becoming our own murderers?

This is malignant bullshit. First, neither Ned nor Kramer was "one of the men who fought the war" -- any war.  As an affluent, privileged gay man, Kramer had no interest in activism and despised gay activists until AIDS struck.  As the Wikipedia article on Kramer puts it, 

There were politically active groups in New York City, but Kramer noted the culture on Fire Island was so different that they would often make fun of political activists: "It was not chic. It was not something you could brag about with your friends ... Guys marching down Fifth Avenue was a whole other world. The whole gestalt of Fire Island was about beauty and looks and golden men."

Even when he became an activist of sorts, Kramer tended to frame his work in personal terms, especially in attacks on then-New York City mayor Ed Koch, and in denunciations of gay men's sexual culture, of which he was an active participant. It never seemed to occur to him that he was attacking himself.  Like the more conventionally recognizable antigay bigots of the religious Right, his jeremiads described himself as much as others; possibly even more.  In his twilight years he continued and amplified his hypocrisy, attacking other gay men for supposedly engaging in "meaningless sex" while complaining that they weren't having it with him.

Notice that when we know anything about the erotic lives of the men Ned/Kramer extols in his monologue, we know that they mostly consisted of the same kind of behavior he attacked in his contemporaries.  Far from the respectable, soft-focus fantasies Kramer concocted (inaccurately) about the monogamy of lesbians, those men patronized rent-boys, bathhouses, bars, streets, and other cruising places.  Oh, Henry James may have been the exception: it's not clear he had any erotic life at all beyond fantasy.  The rest of his list sometimes found long-term partners, but weren't monogamous with them any more than Kramer was with his.  Ned's speech probably gratified queasy straight audiences with its denunciation of gay sex, but even in The Normal Heart he (like his author) haunted the baths when he wasn't on Fire Island.  But that doesn't count as defining himself by his cock, I guess.  And as we now know, being a real soldier won't protect a man against AIDS.

Throughout history down to the present, most gay-ish men haven't been high achievers, and there's no reason why they should have been.  (If not for AIDS, Kramer himself would probably have gone down in history as a minor playwright and Hollywood scriptwriter.  Not a wasted life, but not Alexander the Great either.)  When I read Ned Weeks's speech again after seeing the National Theatre clip, I was reminded of a similar coattails-riding you'll observe among fundamentalist Christians: they may be barely literate, but they "belong to a culture" of famous, highly learned and accomplished Christians.  They know very little about them, have never bothered to read their works, but they are validated because C. S. Lewis was a distinguished college professor and scholar.

Maybe I should stress that I situate myself in gay history.  I'm aware of my predecessors, and I'm dependent on and grateful to the work of scholars who've broadened and deepened our knowledge of the erastai/eromenoi, arsenokoitai, sodomites, buggers, sapphists, inverts, hijra, llamana, katoey, jotas, maricones, marimachas, toms/dees, and others whose lives make up the history.  It's not a simple unitary history, it's a big hot mess, which Kramer's simplifications dishonor and diminish. He accused queer theorists of erasing gay history, but that's another of his lies: most of the work that has begun to fill out our knowledge over the past forty and more years was done by scholars who at least pledged allegiance to queer theory.  You can no more do justice to our lives by denying our sexuality than by centralizing it -- but then why not centralize it?  Gay people who say we're just like straights except for what we do in bed are reducing us to our sexuality, and also pretending that we are all alike when we are as various as straights.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Relatively Fabulous

I promised to post this last week, so here it is. I wrote it for a local gay newspaper that didn't give me much space, so it's more compact than most of my writing, but I think it says all that needed to be said about the book.

The Rise and Fall of Gay Culture, by Daniel Harris
New York: Hyperion, 1997
$22

Once upon a time, in a galaxy far away, there was a gay culture. It was made up of willowy young men who worshiped Judy and Bette, who shyly purchased silk caftans by mail order, and composed moist personal ads in hopes of finding a True Friend with whom they never even thought of having sexual contact.

This Edenic state of affairs, alas, was doomed. First the Stonewall rioters forced everyone to be relentlessly gay-positive. If you dared to suggest that gay people might not be perfectly happy all the time, you'd be forced to ... well, I'm not sure what you'd be forced to do, but it wasn't pretty. Then the hothouse blossoms of the 1940s and 1950s, who apparently seldom saw sunlight, metamorphosed into revoltingly wholesome househusbands, fixing up houses and tending their lawns and tans. Worse yet, they began watching pornography on their VCRs and sewing kitschy panels for the AIDS quilt. The high artistic standards of the heyday of gay culture came a-tumbling down.

Or so Daniel Harris would have you believe. In The Rise and Fall of Gay Culture, Harris seems to argue that gay (male) culture reached its peak during the repression of the 1950s, and that as we have become less fearful and more visible, we've also become "hopelessly mired in an emotionally stagnant state of euphoria." Personally, I think he's nuts. I'd really like to read one of those relentlessly gay-positive novels that we supposedly drowned in during the 1970s, but like snuff films no genuine specimen has ever been sighted. (Much like the dread Politically Correct Movement -- does anyone know the address of its headquarters? I want to make a modest donation to the cause.)

As for those househusbands he despises so much -- there's something wrong with being a househusband? Especially since a few pages later he's citing them and their gentrified neighborhoods as one of the many benefits Homo-Americans have brought to the world.

And those personal ads from the 1950s: Harris must surely know that the U. S. Post Office would have shut down any publication which printed anything racier than the coded and terrified hints he shows us. But those same gay men who collected "Japanese screens, Persian carpets, kimonos, capes, MGM stars, and British accents" also collected sailors and hustlers. They cruised Lafayette Park and bathhouses and highway rest stops and YMCAs even as they dreamed of finding a Whitmannic comrade. The real ancestor of today's gay personal ads is that ancient male folk art, restroom graffiti.

Harris keeps confusing "gay liberation" (an eccentric vanguard movement and worldview which owed as much to Thoreau as to Marx) with 1990s commercial gay male culture. He jeers at "naive leftist conspiracy theories," but then raises his own alarm: "We invited corporate America into our lives." He wants a sort of gay Rambo-in-drag, I think: "Not this insufferable house husband who dreams of dandling babies but a countercultural rebel ... whose behavior was an open affront to straight life, not a feeble imposture of it." Naive leftist fantasies, anyone? Get 'em here.

In the end, Harris makes even less sense than the cliches he's attacking. "The leather community has submitted to a process of banalization that has rendered it harmless in the eyes of the heterosexual majority ..." Which I guess is why "the leather community" features so prominently in Christian antigay propaganda: because most heterosexuals find it as unthreatening as water sports or bare-breasted lesbians fisting in the streets.

"Boosterism," sniffs Harris, "has largely replaced real discussion about gay culture." Was there ever much real discussion about gay culture? I'd say there's more now than there used to be -- there just isn't much in this book.

[P.S.  You think I was mean in this review?  See what the Kirkus reviewer (whom I agree with) had to say.]

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Touching the Monolith

The New Gay has struck again. The site appears to be dedicated to giving a soapbox to people who're convinced that they're cutting-edge, but who are recycling some of the oldest and wackiest tropes known to Queerdom. Like the guy yesterday who, in the name of being "Green", declares that he believes "that modern medicine is for the weak" and that by getting treatment for tonsilitis, he "was bucking Darwin’s theory of natural selection, cheating the system." In an oxycontin haze, he says, "I started thinking about the idea of queers as population control ... [that] we homos are put on this Earth for a very good reason: to provide the benefits of extra bodies helping create order in the world without the risk of increasing the population. Personally, I find some comfort in this notion while I’m sure others will find it offensive." Several commenters set him, um, straight on this.

A few days earlier, a longer article floated the idea, from a so-far unpublished article in Out (strike one!) via The Gawker (strike two!), one Brian Moylan has declared ex cathedra that "instead of taking up residence for the entire weekend in gigantic clubs like Twilo or the Roxy like gays did in the ’90s, they’re now going to smaller lounges and parties that are catered more towards specific gentlemen’s tastes. Yes, my friends, it is officially the end of the monolithic gay culture…"

Fortunately or unfortunately, I've never lived in a metropolitan area. But that's the point: I have no idea how many gay men actually 'took up residence for the entire weekend in gigantic clubs', but I wouldn't assume that those who did live out this hyperbole were all gay men. Even when I visited large cities, I always found plenty of small bars and clubs (like the one I wrote about here), which seemed to be doing adequate business. A fair number of men from the small city where I live go to Indianapolis on weekends for variety, but I'm not sure that the scene there was limited to gigantic clubs either, what with the gay restaurants and other establishments I've seen.

And then there's the question whether bars define or determine gay culture. Apparently Moylan, and certainly "zack", The New Gay's writer, think they do. The size of bars and clubs will be affected by other factors, like real estate prices. William Leap has an interesting paper in Out in Culture (Wiley-Blackwell, 2009) on the changes in gay geography in Washington DC, how not only real estate developers but life-cycle changes among gay men affected the commercial gay scene in that city. As the men he interviewed got older, the kinds of establishments they wanted to patronize changed, which is not exactly surprising. I wonder if Brian Moylan was confusing his own life-cycle changes with changes in the entire gay community -- that seems to be a common mistake in journalistic writers. Who defines "gay culture"? Twenty-somethings fresh out of college? Forty-somethings? Or all of them? Do other community institutions, like churches and softball leagues, have a role too?

Like other gay writers, zack and Moylan seem to think that gay community is supposed to be monolithic -- meaning, characterized by lockstep uniformity and total mutual support (though the writers at The New Gay generally demand support for themselves and their lifestyles while crankily withholding support from everybody else).
Moylan cites some NYC parties that have sprung up in replacement of these spaces. Parties like Manthrax, a gay heavy metal party, or Tall Gay Agenda, for men who are 6 feet and over. And though it might seem like a digression, this is a good time to ask exactly what a culture is. Lets say for our immediate purposes that its a group of people so united by a common cause or interest that they have banded together and found some peace or comfort in their unity.

If that is the case, then this diffusion can only be positive. A culture based on sex, on “taking it up the ass,” is not a culture. It is a shared need, perhaps, or a hive-minded itch, but it cannot sustain a people any more than an orgasm can listen to your problems or encourage you to follow your dreams. ...

I think that this is not the end of “gay culture,” but rather a renaissance of an actual culture, no quotes needed, made up of gay people who are allowed to follow their own diverse interests and aesthetics without having to sacrifice their sexuality or safety. It’s a good thing.

Again, are these NYC parties really new on the scene or did Moylan just discover them and conclude, like Columbus, that they didn't exist before he did so? I vote the latter, since I've been hearing about such special-interest events and organizations all along. The New Gay also has a vested interest in crowing over every development that is new to its editors as marking a new beginning ("I think this development could be one of the best things to happen to gay people since Jerry Falwell died," Zack remarks), the end of the bad old gay culture (beware, children! The New Gay will be old, tired, and retrograde by the turn of the decade), and a harbinger of the glorious advent of the Queer Children of Light. Zack does well to conclude that "gay culture" isn't ending, but I don't see any reason to believe that a "renaissance" is going on. Even in NYC and DC, there have always been "diverse interests" and people who tried to create environments to act on them. I agree that it's a good thing -- it's the sort of thing I've always tried to encourage in my own locale -- but it's not new.