Carry the One, by Carol Anshaw. Simon & Schuster, 272
pages, $25 hardcover.
The flawed natures of ordinary people are at the core of
Anshaw’s subtle, sombre and sensitive fourth novel, in which three siblings and
a few of their acquaintances and friends cope for 25 years with the death of a
10-year-old girl, hit by their car as they leave a raffish wedding. Carmen, the
sister who was wed, isn’t in the automobile, but even she is affected by the
tragedy – her marriage founders in its aftermath. The impact on second sister
Alice and brother Nick is more profound: Alice, an artist and lesbian – she
hooks up with the groom’s sister at the wedding and lusts after her for years –
paints portraits, over and over, of the dead girl. Their brother, Nick, an
acclaimed astronomer whose defiance of norms is evident when he comes to the
wedding in drag, is forever after wracked by inescapable addiction. Though the
girl’s death hovers immutably over the trio’s lives, Anshaw’s story is,
luminously and with a genuine voice, about the more mundane realities of
growing up and growing older.
Coral Glynn, by Peter Cameron. Fararr, Straus & Giroux, 210 pages, $24
hardcover.
There is a dark delicacy to this semi-gothic sixth novel by
Cameron, a pitch-perfect period piece wherein homosexuality slips into an
ever-present background and the forefront is seized by the self-effacing
titular Coral. She’s a home nurse, landing in the English countryside in 1950
to nurse (unto a natural death) the horrid mother of middle-aged and now
much-closeted Major Clement Hart, badly burned in the war and certain he is
destined to a lonely bachelorhood – though he is loved, deeply, by boyhood chum
Robin, himself married, conveniently, to rather dotty Dolly. The novel is very
British; Cameron, though American, spent childhood years in England and, in
style and tone, evokes the askew humor, deep irony and to-the-manor-born
reserve of, for example, Barbara Pym. For the first of three sections, the
central characters lead decidedly unhappy emotional and physical lives –
desperately and disastrously, Clement even proposes to Coral. And then, 15
years later, all is well – Coral is happily married, Robin is divorced and
Clement is...well, that would be revealing too much of this tale, which, after
all, is delicate. And sublimely delicious.
Riding Fury Home, by Chana Wilson. Seal Press, 380 pages,
$18 paper.
When the author was seven, in 1958, her mother tried to kill
herself. Depression stalked the home of her often-manic mother and her distant,
ever in-denial father. Karen – the author’s name through childhood and young
adulthood – was the responsible one, an emotional demand that stalked her for
years. Eventually, though crushes on teenage peers foreshadowed the truth, she
tested the lesbian waters in feminist communes and self-empowerment sessions
before coming out at 19, a revelation that distanced her at first from her
mother and forever from her father. More than a coming-out memoir, however,
this is a poignant, potent reminder that, back in the 1950s (and, even now, for
some) accepting and announcing one’s queerness was an experience fraught with
peril. In the case of Wilson’s mother, that peril manifested itself in horrific
institutionalization, complete with electroshock therapy – an attempt to cure
the author’s mother of her own same-sex attractions. This account of how
daughter and mother recovered from their shared past and learned to love each
again is testament to the healing power of truth.
I Must Resist: Bayard Rustin’s Life in Letters, edited by
Michael G. Long. City Lights Books, 516 pages, $19.95 paper.
It’s not until the last couple of chapters in this
collection of 150 letters from him, and several dozen to him, that Bayard
Rustin, an impassioned pacifist and activist for civil rights and against
injustice of all stripes, emerges as a mildly activist gay man – for example,
by writing letters in the mid-1980s supporting early attempts to see gay rights
supported by the New York City Council. There’s a reason for that. He was gay
in an era of homophobia, and when younger was convicted of lewd conduct, the
political repercussions of which are detailed in a number of letters in the
chapter titled, tellingly, "For me, sex must be sublimated." That said, "gay"
is a small part of Rustin’s behind-the-scenes but nonetheless inspirational
life, a deep commitment to the movement for social justice detailed in
correspondence culled with care by editor Long, who also provides scene-setting
historical and cultural annotations. Collected from over more than four decades,
these letters are a reminder that one man can make a difference.
Featured Excerpt
After much thought I have decided that I must decline your
invitation to contribute to your collection of oral histories of black gay men.
I feel it only fair, however, to give you my reasons for doing so... I was not
involved in the struggle for gay rights as a youth. To the best of my knowledge
there was no organized gay liberation movement. I did not "come out of the
closet" voluntarily – circumstances forced me out. While I have no problem with
being publicly identified as a homosexual, it would be dishonest of me to
present myself as one who was in the forefront of the struggle for gay rights.
The credit for that belongs to others. They are the ones who should be in your
book.
– April 26, 1986 letter to Joseph Beam, editor of In
the Life, from I Must Resist, edited by Michael G. Long.
Footnotes
With plans to celebrate its 10th year in style in 2013, the
annual Saints & Sinners queer literary festival is downsizing this year
after cuts in support grants, forgoing its plethora of panels while retaining
its popular writing workshops. Offered on Saturday, May 19 – and limited to 10
participants – the intensive how-to sessions will be lead by Bold Strokes
publisher Radclyffe (Managing Point of View in Genre Fiction: Rules and When
to Break Them); Virginia Tech graduate faculty professor, novelist, poet and
memoirist Jeff Mann (Mixing it up: Adding
Literary Techniques to All Genres of Writing); Chelsea Station Editions
and author Jameson Currier (Literary Fiction: It’s a Matter of Character);
and A&M Books publisher, humorist and writing instructor Fay Jacobs (Memoir:
Defining a Life). Saints & Sinners 9.5 – dubbed "mini" by the organizers,
and a fundraiser for next year – opens Friday, May 18 with a welcome party and
readings from the festival’s third annual short story contest, judged by
Dorothy Allison, and closes Sunday, May 20 with a morning "publishing industry
update" panel, participants to be announced. The workshops are $95, with
separate tickets for other events, including a post-workshop reading on
Saturday night. Meanwhile, Allison and mystery novelist Val McDermid have
already signed on for 2013. For information: sasfest.org.
Richard Labonte has been reading, editing, selling, and writing about queer literature since the mid-’70s.