"The Front Runner," homophobia, and angst in the gay bookstore in Hell-fer-Sartain

When I was in college in the early 1980s, you couldn't do a keyword search for "gay fiction," and get 1,000 hits.  I sometimes found fiction with gay characters or gay themes by accident.  Death in Venice and Billy Budd were assigned by professors who didn't mention the gay content, and vociferously denied it when I asked. 

Left: The Death in Venice ballet.

A carefully-worded inquiry to my artistic, sophisticated friend Aaron led me to Samuel Delaney's Neveryon.  

Fred the Ministerial Student, my first boyfriend, told me about The City and the Pillar.

But usually I just scanned the shelves in the library stacks, looking for titles that evoked evil: A Thirsty Evil, The Young and the Evil 

Or loneliness: The Heart is a Lonely Hunter, The Well of Loneliness.

Or the need to be somewhere else: Other Voices, Other Rooms, Another Country

It was easy, but rather depressing.  I wondered if this was what gay life was like: tawdry, empty, despairing, doomed?  

 

After receiving my M.A., I spent a horrible, soul-destroying year teaching Bonehead English in Hell-fer-Sartain, Texas.  There was a gay neighborhood in Houston, but it was 17 miles away, which meant two hours in the worst traffic I have ever seen, there and back, probably a flat tire from the endless construction. and guys who were so deeply closeted that they had a wife back home and wouldn't tell you their real name.

 

The one bright spot was the Wilde n Stein Bookstore on Westheimer. It sold honest to goodness gay books.  I couldn't afford many, but those few opened up a whole world of gay history and culture: 

Hidden from History

The Celluloid Closet

Christianity, Social Tolerance, and Homosexuality

Byron and Greek Love

The fiction, not so much.  Sure, they had open, overt gay characters and contemporary settings, but:  Dancer from the Dance, The Kryptonite Kid, The Beautiful Room is Empty, The Boy Who Picked the Bullets Up, Dance on My Grave, Nocturnes for the King of Naples...

They still had key words about death, darkness, sadness, and evil, and they still painted gay life as tawdry, empty, and doomed.

The worst offender was The Front Runner, by Patricia Nell Warren. I bought the second edition, printed in 1978, with the beefcake drawing of a muscle daddy horrified by the idea of being gay as he gazed at a skinny blond twink.  

 I don't remember much about the plot, just a feeling of palpable disgust at four scenes that traumatized me for life.   

1. Muscle Daddy Harlan, fired from his job as athletic director at a major university, goes to work at a gay-friendly college in upstate New York founded by a guy who brags about how he and his lover fool the straights: the lover pretends to be a woman, dressing in drag and flaunting around.  "Have another cocktail -- darling!"  "Fooled them all the time."  Thhe partner wasn't transgender, or even a drag queen; he simply had to pretend to be a woman.  Two men together can never survive in the straight world. They must be male and female. Yuck.

More after the break

My 24 favorite autobiographical stories: gay hints, sausage sightings, a wiener, a goblin, the Pentecostal MovieStar, and Kevin the Vampire

 

Link to the uncensored version

I've posted dozens of more-or-less accurate autobiographical stories on RG Beefcake and Boyfriends and Tales of West Hollywood, moving from my fundamentalist Nazarene childhood through high school, figuring it out, college, grad school at Indiana University, a horrible year in...ugh...Texas, and on to the heart of the Gay World.  Some of the stories are minimal -- I was trying to cover every gay hint, boyfriend, hookup, and sausage sighting  -- but some are well-written, insightful, humorous, and occasionally erotic.  Here are my 24 favorites.

Childhood

I Fall Asleep in a Sailor's Arms.  On the train on the way back from visiting South Carolina.  He warns me about making friends with "sissies."

The Face of Pure Evil.  The Old Lady Schoolteachers' grandson, who may not have looked like this, rescues me from the Maniac who stalks the hallways of Denkmann Elementary School.

The Answer to the N*ked Man's Question. A psychedelic Alice in Wonderland on tv on a golden afternoon, and a n*ked man who asks a question that I still can't answer. 

Comic Books and C*cks at the Furniture Store. Cousin Buster pranks me by claiming that you can get comic books at the furniture store -- and the delivery guys take off their shirts.  And sometimes their pants.

Grandpa Prater's Banjo  On the day after Christmas, Cousin Buster and I sneak into Grandpa Prater's room to borrow his banjo.

My Wild Night: Pancakes, Massage, and a Wiener.  I broke like six of my parents' rules that night, and was grounded for two weeks.  But at least I got to feel a...

High School

On My Knees in a Cute Guy's Bedroom.  When we went on vacation, we had to go to a local church, where they mistook us for sinners and tried inept soul-winning lines.  But once it worked to my advantage: A cute boy invited me to his bedroom "to pray."

The Preacher Pops a B*ner.  Our Bible College invited prospective students to a weekend of campus tours, ball games, nature hikes, classroom visits -- and the boys' dorm lounge, where the only couch invisible to the monitor got quite busy.

Augustana College

The First Gay Rights March in Iowa. Passersby pull their friends out of stores to gawk.  The police watch closely, eager to arrest us if we happen to touch another marcher's hand

I Cheat on My Boyfriend with a Goblin.  The Goblin's name is Dale Schafer-Shit.  But Fred was cheating with him first.  Every friggin' day.

Sharing a Bed with Mary's Brother.  My friend Mary invites me to her horrible house in the suburbs for spring break.  But at least I get to share a bed with a cute bo.

More after the break