Come to My (Poem in Big) Window (Review)

 

The Big Windows Review, which is not a review about shopping for larger than average windows, has published a poem of mine in its current issue. It is called "Ok, Hinge."

On Childless Cat Ladies

 

You start out in 1954 by saying, "N****r, N****r, N****r." By 1968 you can't say "N****r"—that hurts you. Backfires. So you say stuff like forced busing, states' rights and all that stuff. You're getting so abstract now [that] you're talking about cutting taxes, and all these things you're talking about are totally economic things and a byproduct of them is [that] blacks get hurt worse than whites. And subconsciously maybe that is part of it. I'm not saying that. But I'm saying that if it is getting that abstract, and that coded, that we are doing away with the racial problem one way or the other. You follow me—because obviously sitting around saying, "We want to cut this," is much more abstract than even the busing thing, and a hell of a lot more abstract than "N****r, N****r."

- Lee Atwater

For those unfamiliar, this is a quote from Lee Atwater, a Republican political operative from the 1980s and one of the architects of the Southern Strategy. Thanks in part to his work, the once solidly Democratic South became a bastion of the Republican Party. It wasn't all him of course, and this process occurred before and after the 1980s. Nevertheless, this quote feels strangely relevant in light of the recent rise and fall of the phrase "Childless Cat Ladies." 

In the past couple of months, it passed from J D. Vance's tradcath mouth into the memesphere and has largely dissipated. When the phrase still emerges, it is in an almost ironic context (like “deplorables” two elections ago). I have seen men appropriating it for themselves, and so-called CCLs in real life mentioning it for a laugh in bars. Good for them. But it is important to unpack how something like this could gain any kind of currency in the first place. Its present ridiculousness can obscure the potentially serious division the Right seeks to exploit in the future. 

Returning to the Atwater quote, we may be at the N-word stage of the process the deceased operative outlined. The Childless Cat Lady occupies its place with gender swapped in for race. That is not to say the term is anywhere near offensive. Only that it is similarly clumsy, ridiculous, and to the detriment of reactionaries, obvious. It too easily reveals what they are appealing to. In Atwater's case, it was racism. For Childless Cat Ladies it is sexism. This campaign cycle, it has been to the benefit of liberals and others that such terminology was chosen. It gives them a good laugh and allows people like Vance and his ilk to be portrayed as "weird."

Well until the VP debate. Now it seems that "weird" has been put to rest. However, that other term, Childless Cat Ladies (which has its historical antecedents) may have its afterlife (or nine) too. Not in a literal sense. Rather, a sentiment behind it might provide a fertile ground for future reactionary politics to cultivate. That is why the phrase cannot be fully dismissed. Liberals and their coalition need to be vigilant. The sentiment in question is a resentment that could very well rear its head in more coded language. Echoes of “Childless Cat Ladies” reverberating through the campaign trails of the future.

And no, I won’t speculate on what those terms will be. I’m not going to help them. It must be remembered that resentment is the bread and butter of reactionary politicians. They are constantly sizing up society to find what might be bubbling under the surface and can be lanced for their benefit. The whole CCL nonsense is no different. It’s an attempt to explore and exploit tensions between the portion of women in this society who raise children, and those who do not. The distinction isn’t as clear as the phrase makes it out to be, but when has the Right ever allowed subtly, or reality to get in its way?

Obviously, throughout history not all women have had children (or children that survived infancy) but the numbers of women who decide to not pursue some form of motherhood (or guardianship) are higher today than ever before. Meanwhile the cost in terms of money and time for children keeps increasing and is also born more and more by the individual family unit, however it may be constructed. 

(Despite the wide diversity in parenting structures, there’s little chance of the Right trying to appeal to them all. It’s why this essay is discussing things in terms of heterosexual cisgender women. This is in no way meant meant to ignore LGBT heads of households. But they occupy a different place in the discourses of Right-wing politics. In theory, transgender men with children could be celebrated by reactionaries as a way to put down CCLs. In practice they, along with others who do not conform to their supposed ideal, will merely be put down as an aberration who should not be allowed to have children in the first place. It’s another clue, among many, of how the Right isn’t actually interested in the welfare of children as an ends, but rather as a means to assert control and slot people into their “proper” place.)

Now is this particular resentment there? It is hard to imagine any useful polling that might shine a light on its dimensions. How widespread is the feeling, and how deep does it run for those who feel it?  One might have a tinge of resentment for something but it might also not bother them much. But I think it's worth an educated guess to assert there's a strong potential for it. 

In a healthy society that manages to be both empathetic and rational, there would be no conflict from those who have chosen one path over the other. Women who do not want to have children, would feel no pressure to do so, and not have their decisions over their body denigrated. They would have access to contraception, abortion, and the education to know how to use and access these options. Meanwhile, for those who choose to have children, they would have childcare, health care, flexible working situations, and affordable housing. 

But America is far from being an empathetic country and its conception of rationality is stuck in the amber of 18th century metaphysics. In short, it is a country that makes it hard to be a mother, and is trying to make it equally hard to not be one either. In such a situation, it’s only natural for a reservoir of resentment to build up. In particular, those who have taken up the responsibilities of motherhood can begin to feel like they’re providing a valuable service for a society that ultimately turns its back on them.

This feeling is not going to be universal, because motherhood is not experienced the same by everyone. Some people are under more of a strain than others. The kinds of resources available vary widely. In many situations, women with children are directly supported by their relations and friends who don’t have them. Nevertheless, I don’t think it takes much of a stretch of the imagination to see the potential for a growing divide.

As with most cleavages, a politics of solidarity would bridge it. In their absence, the divide only grows. It’s a common enough process across all kinds of social struggles and contradictions. The divide begins in a gap between what people (in this case mothers) need versus what society provides for them. Then this divide moves, switching from a “vertical” focus to a “horizontal” one that strikes out against another group of people perceived to be contributing to the issue of inadequate provisions. In time, and with enough focus and ire, this division deepens until it becomes a trench in a culture war. 

The last stage rarely happens spontaneously. It come about through a process of messaging that is both subtle and overt from reactionary forces. In this case, “Childless Cat Ladies,” is quite overt. It’s hard to think of anything that could be more on the nose. One would have to reach deep into the recess of old misogynistic lore to find it. Harridan? Maybe “Queen of the Harpies.” Yet as with CCL, these terms carry such a ridiculous, over-the-top quality that they easily become coopted into badges of merchandisable pride. 

We could be become a society that supports both groups, along with all kinds of parents and guardians. To embrace a politics of family choice that would challenge the current the system of benefits and the present work-life balance. There’s no reason to raise up one group at the expense of the other, since both experiences overlap. Plenty of women make the decision to have and/or raise children at a later date in their lives. Others with children make the choice not to have any more. This blending and entwining of paths offers proofs that politics of resentment over who is and is not a mother is nowhere near inevitable.

Unfortunately, liberalism is inadequate in creating the politics that can diffuse tensions in society through material improvements. It has a grave-digging inability to grapple with the very concept of resentment, often confusing this feeling on the Right with the rage and revulsion expressed by the Left. Liberalism believes it is above recognizing such things. The ideology treats emotion in politics as a stain on what should be a sober calculation in the minds of the citizenry. 

Which is why, when the champions of liberalism do try to get “emotional,” the attempts feel half-hearted and come off half-baked without about follow through. The “Politics of Joy” is only the latest attempt at trying to do liberalism with a human face. How quickly that seemed to fizzle out. 2024 isn’t 2008. A campaign of “Hope” or “Change,” is only sustainable when people believe actual material improvements are around the corner. When they fail to well, materialize, the collapse is hard. Both heart and mind feel betrayed.

Maybe the child/childless divide will not provide much fodder for the future Right. Reactionary forces might decide this line of attack is not worth pursuing and instead focus on cracking the African-American vote. They have been recently trying to do it by cultivating resentment against immigration. Or perhaps one day a clever operative will come along and they (and it could very well be a lady Atwater) will see the potential to seize on the underlying resentments I’ve previously outlined. The GOP has a problem with female voters and this might bring more of them into the Republican fold. Nothing helpful will be proposed or enacted. Just the cultivation of resentment with a little pandering rhetoric thrown in as a treat. 

It will not lead to the kind of natalist policies the European Right proposes. Their Right was stitched to Capitalism in a shotgun wedding presided over by NATO after World War II. Meanwhile, our Right’s true love is Capitalism. High school sweethearts, who were Homecoming King and Queen. Our Right would hate to see support mostly going to non-White women as well. A story with a familiar refrain in this country. White Antebellum Americans were perfectly fine extolling the virtues of motherhood while selling the children of mothers they enslaved (and sometimes even fathered). 

No, under this manifestation of resentment politics, mothers will be made to feel elite and “seen,” by punishing all the single ladies. Taking away abortion rights, restricting contraceptives, outlawing no-fault divorce, and censoring any information about this (one of the chief uses of obscenity laws in the past). Children will not receive any better healthcare; their mothers will be forced to work longer hours. The cats, more or less, will probably be fine.

Gather Round, Children for a Story

Pictured: namesake

Maybe not children. This story gets a little blue. Thanks to The Bookends Review for publishing A Morning Hersey. 

A Wafer-Thin Slice of Anxiety

Just a tiny, tiny little bit of anxiety, via a poem I wrote for A Thin Slice of Anxiety

Let's Break it Down with a Poem About Tinder

 

(Not fro my phone, Wiipedia)

A poem of mine about Tinder is up at Jack Henry's site, 1870 Poems. Why not give it a look, then swipe right, as the kids* say.

*not to be confused with the kids in my basement

Come See Me in Issue 4 of the Northampton Poetry Review!

This folks is the flag of Northamptonshire. It's a shire in England. It's also where they publish a poetry review, where I am the featured poet for their fourth issue! In case you're confused about the subject for one of the poems, here's the Figure from Sedona.

The Route of the Next Women's March on DC

Hopefully, we won't have to have another march like the one yesterday ever again. Nevertheless I think we need to be prepared for next time. While there was a planned route, it quickly broke down. It was for the best of reasons though, namely that so many people showed up! Inspiring as that may be, I doubt we'll have the freedom to organize ourselves and spread out peacefully under the noses of the authorities in the future.

Now I have no intention of mansplaining here, this is just an idea for the route of the next possible march to take. I think we should start at L'Enfant Plaza and from there head north. Just as a baby was born there once, so shall the next march be born there as well:

This will take the march through the Mall and next to all the important museums. Tourists won't be able to avoid us. After politicians, I think they're the next most important group to reach out to. Then at H Street we will branch off into two groups. Going any farther north will be trouble because there won't be enough space and amenities to support the protest:

One group will head east and curl around Union Station and end near the Capitol grounds to make our case heard to the legislative and judicial branches:

However, that will still leave the executive branch to reach out to, and reach out we will! How? By walking over to 17th Street, then going down past the White House to occupy the space between it and the Washington Monument:

So the next Women's March on DC will look something like this:

Wikipedia's diagram is insufficiently pink

Renewing Renewal

I guess any work with the word Renewal is fitting for this time of year, maybe for this place the country is in right now. Perhaps though it is too early to speak of renewal in the later case. Anyway, I have a poem called Renewing Renewal in Issue 2 of Nixes Mate next to work by Howie Good (a prose poem) and David Spicer musing about what ti would be like if nature had granted men two penises (penii?) like it has for other animals.

Hear Oh Audience, the Sound of My Poems!

Listen to Alexander Smith read several poems of mine on Creative Writing Out Loud. You won't get to hear my voice, in case you were wondering what I sound like. Work from Richard King Perkins II is also featured. Yes, one is about PowerPoint.

Interview with a Children's Book Author

Happy Labor Day! Appropriately, this poem was published at The Metaworker. Meta-labor certainly counts as labor, doesn't it? Otherwise, it deserves it's own holiday.

Finds and Observations 6/24 to 6/26

I hope by making it small enough, it isn't obscene.

Room in Rome is a terrible fucking movie. Literally. I looked it up on Wikipedia and surprise, surprise, a movie about Lesbians that fails to stimulate, educate, or even titillate was made by a man. Not only that, the same man, wrote, produced, directed, and EDITED the film. So there was no one reining him in. He was probably the caterer too. It wasn't even filmed in Rome!

I found a few interesting things in the city yesterday. The first was a twenty year old syllabus for a film studies class at NYU. I came across it at a Goodwill. It was tucked inside of a tome on film criticism. It is interesting to read because it shows how just a few years ago everything was different for students. There was no internet, no DVDs, and no expectation of using a computer and printer. In one assignment, the professor, Joy Gould Boyum, tells the students to keep the carbons because they won't get their essay back until the end of the semester. Carbons! I could also tell the syllabus was originally typewritten then xeroxed. The smudges on the letters give it away. Since the class was in 1996, I imagine she got twenty papers on Pulp Fiction for the final.

Oh, so much progress we've made since then! On the other hand we still have a Clinton running for president.

I also found a ticket for Eastern Airlines tucked inside of a book the library was selling for a dollar. The book looked like a Dave Barry knockoff, a lament by one of the early baby-boomers about how Elvis was great and the Beatles ruined everything in a frothy over the top style that hides a serious bitter core. Anyway, the ticket was at least 25 years old since the airline went out of business in 1991. What I found fascinating was the lack of personal information on the ticket. There was no name, nothing. Anybody could've used it to board a plane.

Ah, the innocence that was pre-9/11 America. I'm starting to sound like the author...

And finally, the final find. A kid's book by Eugene Ionesco.

Shit, I Need to Post Some Updates and Links

I've been a bit of a dandy these past few months

Wow, it's been too long since I shared what's been going on. Well, there's work that's been published and work that I'm willing to share. Here's where you can find them:

Crab Fat Magazine

two poems loaded onto In Flight Literary Magazine

and a poem in Birds Piled Loosely

Also, I've decided to move back to New York City. I don't know any of the details yet, such as the when and where. But I do know the why and the what. The how...also a mystery at this point. I need a new start. Arlington has burnt me out and I'm tired of running around in the wilderness, trying to make the highways straight for a literary revolution.

In Bed with Gore Vidal: A Book Review

In Bed with Gore Vidal: Hustlers, Hollywood, and the Private World of an American Master

296 pages

Riverdale Avenue Books

Thanks to the Simpsons, Gore Vidal is one of the first public figures I ever knew was gay. In one episode, Lisa and marge have this exchange:

Marge: Well, did you call one of your friends?

Lisa: Hah! These are my only friends: grown up nerds like Gore Vidal, and even he's kissed more boys than I ever will.

Marge: Girls, Lisa. Boys kiss girls.

            Fans of the show know that John Waters played a gay character who befriended Homer, while Jay Sherman spilled the sexual orientation beans about Harvey Fierstein in another episode. But the reference to Gore Vidal stood out more to me. Strange how such a remark can make an impact. Perhaps because Lisa’s comment touched on a physical aspect of male same-sex relations, or maybe it was the shot of Gore’s yellow cartoon face on one of his books, looking masculine, marvelous, and tough. The show’s use of Gore Vidal brought home two points to my young mind. Of course, I knew gay men existed but seeing Vidal meant that gay men could be famous authors and that his gray hair meant they had been around long before I was born.

            However, reading Tim Teeman’s book one wonders if Gore Vidal actually did kiss that many boys. In Teeman’s portrait, it seems Gore would have preferred mouths to be used for other functions, and that they do so quickly. Through this exhaustive and thorough sexual biography, we learn that Vidal often readily embraced physical intimacy, but had trouble opening himself up emotionally with anyone, including his partner of over fifty-plus years, Howard Austen.

            Yet, Gore Vidal would have approved of the way the Simpsons identified him, by the act of kissing boys rather than by an orientation towards them. One of the surprising revelations of the biography is that Vidal never identified himself as gay, despite the general public’s willingness to categorize and accept him as such. In his view, there were no homosexual people, just homosexual acts. Therefore, everyone was bisexual, perfectly capable of same-sex and opposite-sex attraction. This position, widespread before the nineteenth century, put him outside the mainstream of both American society and the Gay community. Unlike a writer such as Burroughs, Vidal did not even embrace a label such as “queer” and while rejected attempts to be labeled a “faggot.”

            But there was a downside to this self-declared independence from sexual categories, which Teeman thoroughly documents. Because Gore refused to identify as a homosexual, he did not lend his fame to the cause of gay rights. Occasionally he would donate to certain organization and fought against sexual puritanism in his essays. But he remained largely absent from the fight, which grew more noticeable once the AIDS epidemic hit America and claimed the life of one of his nephews. While Gore was attentive to his family members’ needs in private, in public he was weary to find a common case with such controversial figures as Larry Kramer and his ACT UP organization.

               There was an emotional cost to this attitude as well. Despite being out in a physical sense, when it came to his feelings, Gore was still deeply closeted.  Sex for him was about dominance and superiority (and of course orgasm) more than any expression of a deeper commitment. While he didn’t care if people knew he had sex with men, he took great pains to let everyone know he was the one doing the fucking. Gore was always a top, never a bottom, and stressed this.  As a result, he missed out on the potential for genuine emotional intimacy and this affected his relationship with Howard Austen, who the book depicts as a long suffering companion, a victim of Gore’s withholding. They were partners but had a largely sexless relationship during that time. As the book explains, Gore felt that he could live together with a friend but not a lover, only to realize how dear Austen was to him before it was too late. In heartbreaking detail, Teeman relates how Vidal broke down at his partner’s death in 2003 and subsequently never recovered from the loss.

            One aspect of Gore’s sexuality the biography investigates is his assertions of bisexuality. He did not claim it as an identity or orientation, but rather a description of his sexual life. It only made since to describe himself as such, since he did not identify as either gay or straight and wanted people to believe he was perfectly open to sex with men and women. Yet nothing in Teeman’s research suggests he was as flexible as he claims. While there may have been a sexual encounter or two with women early on in his life, after the publication of his novel The City and the Pillar, Gore seems to have only had same-sex relationships. Despite ample opportunity to sleep with women, including several Hollywood starlets, Vidal instead sought after the company of men, particularly male hustlers in Italy, whose willingness to sleep with him for money while dating women only further reinforced his views about the inherent bisexuality of all people.

            Of course, one cannot blame Gore for the position he took. As those who are interviewed in the biography stress, he was a product of his time and his class. Homosexuality was illegal when he was born and gays were viewed as weaklings in every sense of the word. Gore came from an aristocratic background and was expected to take a leading role in the country’s politics as his grandfather, a senator from Oklahoma, had done. However, Gore’s sexuality stood in the way. There were other factors as well, but he would bitterly claim to the end of his days he would have become president if it was not for the issue of who he slept with. It makes sense he would try to downplay any notion of orientation and was in full control of who he was attracted to. But his extensive experience with prostitution and his penchant for Latin male pornography reveal otherwise.

            Much of his reaction to the sexual politics of his era can also be traced to Jimmy Trimble. Jimmy was a classmate  who Gore claimed was the love of his life to the very end. According to Gore, the two of them fooled around physically and shared a deep bond which was shattered when Jimmy was killed in World War II, an event which probably shaped his anti-Imperialist stance as much as his sexuality. The first part of the biography delves into the mystique of their relationship and contrasts Gore’s claims of intimacy with denials from Trimble’s family. Gore’s continuing attachment to Jimmy is no mere speculation. He was always willing to talk about his attraction to him and  how he could never love anyone else. Unfortunately, he did so around Howard, who was both pained and annoyed by the mention of the young man’s name.  He would make a jerk off motion behind Gore’s head whenever his partner brought it up and often brought Gore’s discussions to an end with a repeated refrain “Oh Gore, basta basta with the Jimmie Trimble!”

            While depicting Gore’s struggles in a sympathetic light, Teeman’s book does not shy away from the dark side of his character and the cost his emotional denial took on him. Vidal extrapolated his own desire to be sexually flexible and saw bisexual and homosexual romances behind every relationship between two men in literature and history. At the same time, Vidal internalized certain aspects of homophobia. His family hatred against a certain kind of effeminate gay man made him enemies with anyone who embodied those traits, such as Truman Capote. Thetwo famously feuded on and off for close to thirty years.  Besides these mental gymnastics, projections, and compartmentalizing, there were also years of heavy drinking and a mounting paranoia which led Gore to reverse his will at the end of his life. Convinced his family was out to get him, he revised the terms so Harvard University, which he never attended, would get the bulk of his estate.

            There is also the issue of how old Gore’s sexual partners were. While it is certain he enjoyed encounters with males in their late teens, there were rumors he slept with adolescents who were much younger. Gore was particularly worried that his arch nemesis William F. Buckley had information related to these encounters. However, Teeman can only guess about what he knew, since Christopher Buckley found his father’s file on Gore after his death and promptly threw it away without giving the content inside even so much as a curious glance. Complicating the picture was Gore’s early involvement with a fundraiser for an organization , part of which evolved to become NAMBLA. Gore defended his presence there years later by pointing out that he was unaware of what the group would become and that at the time he was giving money to help a cause devoted to liberalizing laws between teenagers and older men, though not children. Others claim the meeting was directly responsible for founding the group, despite what Gore contested.

            This back and forth between the sources and Gore Vidal himself is one of the more frustrating aspects of the book.  Since the subject is the sex life of Vidal, a lot of outrageous claims can be made because the acts occurred in private. Some of the most notorious statements do not involve Gore at all, but rather allegedly gay actors in 1950s Hollywood. They come from Scotty Bowers, who wrote about his time supplying closeted stars young men and women in his memoir Full Service. Unfortunately the veracity of his claims is often suspect and he has a history of retracting them.  Gore Vidal approved of his writing, but I doubt Katherine Hepburn, Tyrone Power, and Charles Laughton would.

            Besides the issue of contradicting sources, the book can be confusing at times, since there are dozens of characters who come and go through the text and one forgets their relationship to Gore, particularly those in his family.  His mother remarried and through this union, he gains a set of half and step-siblings. A glossary of names might have been helpful. In addition, the chronology of the biography becomes warped in several sections since Teeman tried to order the book thematically.  A great deal of context is lost this way.  However, In Bed with Gore Vidal remains a fascinating read, in no small part because of the complex personality at the center of it, a man who had wealth and fame, and yet was never satisfied in his private life. 

First Poem of 2014 Published

2014 is here and hopefully it will bring the change I need after nearly a decade of socioeconomic blue balls. I need a new everything. Sometimes I think about just burning my earthly possessions and walking off into the woods. Honey and locusts and sackcloth oh my! But then I look outside and see there's snow everywhere and the nearest woods are next to a school. They probably wouldn't like me staying overnight there. I've been slacking on the publishing front, so I've put out poems, seeing if anything sticks. Already there's one acceptance to report and link to, a poem of mine is up at Luciferous, a blog maintained by Craig Scott. No, it doesn't have anything to do with the Prince of Darkness. It's just a word which means "illuminating" both figuratively and literally.  

When the Hard Meets the Moist

That would make a lovely titled for a volume of my poem, wouldn't it? "When the Hard Meets the Moist: Collected Poems by Ben Nardolilli 1979 - 2005." Or it could be the title of my Memoirs. "When the Hard Meets the Moist, Ben Nardolilli in Montclair, New Jersey." Either way, I'd have to clear the title with Walter Ruhlmann. His latest collection of poems from other authors (including me) is out.

MungBeing has three poems of mine about books. It's the theme of their latest issue.

A Message from Bank of America

I guess it lends a whole new meaning to the phrase: "Too big to fail." Also, judging from the picture it looks like Brian Moynihan really let himself go. Or Charles Holliday.

Gay Press, Gay Power: A Book Review

Order it here

Gay Press, Gay Power: The Growth of LGBT Community Newspapers in America
Paperback: 468 pages
Gay Press, Gay Power: The Growth of LGBT Community Newspapers in America Paperback: 468 pages Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform (November 24, 2012) 
Edited by Tracy Baim 

It makes sense that the history of America’s Gay newspapers is in many ways a microcosm of the history of the community itself in the twentieth century. In an era before blogs, social media, and academic journals friendly to LGBTQ issues, newspapers run by Gays and Lesbians served as one of the first safe spaces to publicly present and discuss Queer issues. Of course there were bars, clubs, and private parties, but newspapers offered a way to take the discourse of the community public and provide a means for recording what was going on for future reference. Gay Press, Gay Power: The Growth of LGBT Community Newspapers in America is a clear beneficiary of this archive. This collection of writings, edited and co-authored by Tracy Baim, tells the story of the Gay Press but inevitably reflects the advances achieved and setbacks felt by the LGBTQ community in America as well. However, it is more than just a presentation of headlines that mirror this experience. It deals with the specific history behind a variety of publications, controversies within their staffs, and the nuts and bolts of making the Gay press work. 

The book is divided into several parts that each deal with an aspect of Gay newspapers. Part One covers their history from the start of the twentieth century up to the present. It begins by covering the challenges of producing newspapers for homosexuals and homophiles in an era of obscenity and sodomy laws and an outright hostile mainstream press. The book demonstrates the need for these newspapers when the Chicago Tribune and the New York Times would refer to Gays and Lesbians as nothing but “perverts” in their pages, if they were mentioned at all. Part One details how the most common expression of homophobia among newspapers in those days was their silence and not overt condemnation.

Part Two is written by men and women who were involved with the Gay press as writers and editors. They discuss issues with funding, discrimination, and the bitter infighting within the publications. One of the strengths of Gay Press, is that it does not shy away from depicting the problems faced by Lesbians on Gay-dominated staffs, GLBTQ people of color in having their issues heard, or the struggle for transgender and transsexual Americans to be recognized by these newspapers. Part Three continues by focusing on individual publications in ten different cities, such as the Philadelphia Gay News and the Washington Blade. Meanwhile, Part Four deals with the business of the Gay press and Part Five focuses on issues raised by the rise of the internet and social media. 

Having all these parts written by different authors about different subject matters is both a strength and a weakness for the collection. It does mean that a wide breadth of materials and the media for different communities among the GLBTQ crowd are covered. The pieces not only deal with racial diversity but also regional diversity as well. A history of the Gay press might be excused for focusing primarily on San Francisco and New York City, but this volume goes beyond expectations and deals with Gay newspapers across the country. In particular, it focuses on Chicago (which makes sense since Tracy Baim co-founded the Windy City Times.) The history of Lesbian papers is well-represented by telling the story of such figures as Lisa Ben who founded Vice Versa, the first Lesbian newspaper in the country. 

This method of division allows for pieces which detail the running of these newspapers and their funding, an aspect often overlooked in consideration of any history on print journalism. Advertising in particular gets a deserving amount of attention in this book and not just because it keeps the Gay press afloat. The growth of companies willing to advertise to in these newspapers is representative of changes in public perception and acceptance of GLBTQ Americans over the course of the past fifty years. Of course, the issues of “pinkwashing” and a lack of advertising featuring Lesbians and Gay people of color are brought up as well. 

However, having so many writers turns the book into a hodgepodge of reviews, essays, memoirs, and predictions about the future of the Gay press. Each section feels more deserving of its own separate books because of these incongruences. There are several downsides to having so many different sections in the book with different authors thrown into the mix. The first is that many details and histories are repeated through the work. Another problem is that an extreme focus on the minutiae of a particular publication can be a drag to get through. Anyone looking for those specifics will be in luck but a reader seeking a general history will find it difficult to get through. A major issue for anybody looking to use the text as a source is a lack of clear citations for many of the passages. In addition, there is little focus on the bisexual press or the bisexual experience within the Gay press. Maybe there was not enough material at the time of compilation for it to warrant inclusion. 

Perhaps the work suffers from the same kind of problems the early Gay Press had, having to be everything for the community in the absence of other publications and other outlets. As Gay Press, Gay Power points out, early newspapers had to serve as a place for news, but also provide opinion pieces, conduct advocacy, produce bar and nightlife guides, showcase a social register, and post various literary offerings. As time went on these separate functions were taken over by other groups, leaving the Gay press with the main task of covering current events from an GLBTQ perspective. Maybe future books will come along and provide a similar function, for instance producing a volume of memoirs from Gay journalists separate from a more formal history of the newspapers they served.

Show Time: A Book Review

Another book came for me in the mail a while back and I finally got around to reading it. Today's review is for Phil Harvey's Show Time, a 257 page novel from Lost Coast Press.  Lord of the Flies meets Survivor in this tale of seven reality TV contestants left stranded on an island in the middle of Lake Superior live in front of an international audience. However, despite this promising premise, Harvey's novel falls flat, with clunky and far-fetched dialogue, too many loose ends, and a failure to take account of the ways reality TV has changed since the late 1990s. Despite these flaws, the novel does hold some appeal if one forgets the reality TV show aspect and focuses instead on the characters' attempts to survive in the wilderness and make it through winter without starving to death.

Show Time is set in the not so distant future, when the viewing public has become bored with what violence is offered to them on the TV. To satisfy this demand, a group of TV executives have created a new breed of reality show, where seven contestants are brought together on an island and have to survive the elements and one another. If they can make it, the contestants will win $400,000 apiece. The group onsists of four men and three woman. Each one brings skills of their own, but also faults which threaten their ability to work together to improve their odds of survival. Most of the novel centers on Ambrose, who is a capable and levelheaded, but suffers from a severe gambling addiction that he can only pay off by participating on the show and winning.

One of the fascinating parts of the novel deals with how the characters enter into a shifting array of alliances to secure food, shelter, and other supplies. Even though the seven adults know they are being watched and judged by millions of people, it does not take long until their true, instinctual natures emerge. Harvey posits an interesting take on the different philosophies of human nature, which reality television is a ready means of conveying.  However, they do not surrender to their violent impulses and create a purely Hobbesian world of endless strife on the island. Nor do they build a peaceful Utopia fit for Rousseau's noble savage. Instead, their self-interest motivates them to work together in a Machiavellian fashion. A barter economy is set up where anything, including sex, can be exchanged for goods and the contestants continue to vie for power, especially the males Ivan, Rudy, Ambrose, and Valentin.

The novel could have spent more time focusing on this development, showing how over time the behavior of the individuals on the island becomes more institutionalized and the effects of their division of labor. The lives of the female characters, Ahai, Maureen, and Cecily  would also have been interesting to spend time on. Would their trading sex for protection and food become more regulated over time in this evolving dynamic? Or would they eventually be forced to deny their right to participate in such exchanges? The world of the executives producing the television show needed work as well. It could either have been expanded or dropped altogether. Throughout Show Time, the people putting the drama together constantly speak of how the violence of the show is necessary to keep the population pacified  but this idea is never quite fleshed out with too much telling and not enough showing.

Instead, their are too many scenes which seem designed to merely showcase the authors' idea of "snappy" and "witty" dialogue. Unfortunately it is this dialogue which is likely to take the reader out of the world of the novel. All too often the characters resort an affected speech that seemed drawn from pulp and noir novels and is out of place, especially among people starving in the wilderness. These ridiculous exchanges made me put down the book and write either "wtf," "ugh," "really?", or just "?" next to the offending passages. It is not a good sign for a novel when a reader has to stop eating their malai kofta and feels compelled to mark up your book.

Nevertheless, it is a quick and compelling enough read when the novel centers on the inhabitants of the island, and no one mentions or worries about the the cameras. These sections which deal with simply trying to survive are engaging and well written, even if they tend to get repetitive. There are only so many different ways of writing hunting and fishing scenes. Harvey also does a decent job of dealing with the effects of expose to prolonged calorie reduction and heat deprivation.  At times it seems the whole reality show conceit is just a way to write a novel about survival instead a scathing commentary on the media and American culture. It seems difficult to believe people would spend so many months risking death or serious injury just for $400,000 when there are so many other televised contests that require far less risk for far greater reward.

Show Time treads on previous concerns of where reality television might be heading without adding anything new to the discussion. More importantly, it ignores the ways reality TV has changed since it initially become popular with Survivor.  This work might have been timely in 1999, when shows were centered around competitive ordeals held out in the dark wilds of nature. Now, it feels dated, showing us a vision of a future which seems unlikely due to the rise of shows which deal with the lifestyles of the somehow rich and famous. These have become America's current opiate, not bloodletting spectacles. True, we are glued to our television sets so we can watch others' bad behavior, but these deprived actions occur within civilization, not outside of it.

Personal Ads and Eno Numbers

This month I have two poems up at Five 2 One Magazine. They are from my cycle of fake personals ads. 

New idea: the Eno number. Basically it functions like an Erdos number. It measures the distance a musician is from musician and producer Brian Eno. Eno has a number of 0. David Byrne of the Talking Heads has an Eno number of 1 because they worked together on several albums. St. Vincent has worked with David Byrne but not with Brian Eno (yet). Her Eno number is 2. Some people who also have an Eno number of 1: Philip Glass, Bryan Ferry, David Bowie, Paul Simon, and Mark Mothersbaugh.

Also, Donald Trump is a hoax.

This Should Be Safe for Work

A short story of mine, The Occupation, is up at Otherwise Caffeinated. Special thanks to editors KC Kirkpatrick and Toni Odell!