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| Patty Hearst makes a withdrawl |
The year was 1974, and the world was a wild
and wonderful place.
Earth’s population hit 4 billion people, and Patty
Hearst used an M-1 Carbine to make an unauthorized withdrawal from the Hibernia Bank in San Francisco. News anchor, Christine
Chubbock demonstrated, all too effectively, how to commit suicide in a live
broadcast. The last Japanese World War II soldier surrendered on the Indonesian
island of Morota, 34 years after joining the Imperial Japanese Army.
Nineteen seventy-four was the
year that welcomed the bouncing baby glitterati of Ryan Seacrest, Xzibit, and
Victoria Beckham, while saying goodbye to tried-and-true legends like Cass
Elliott, Duke Ellington, Bud Costello, and Agnes Moorehead. In the wonderful
world of literature, panelists, Eyvind Johnson and Harry Martinson scandalized the
Nobel Foundation by jointly awarding themselves the prize for Johnson’s "narrative
art, far-seeing in lands and ages, in the service of freedom" and Martinson’s
"writings that catch the dewdrop and reflect the cosmos".
Of course they did. Apparently hack
authors like Shel Silverstein, Patricia Highsmith, Maya Angelou, Studs Terkel,
Kurt Vonnegut, Zig Zigler, Gabriel García Márquez, and Judy Blume had absolutely
nothing insightful or compelling to tell.
Nineteen seventy-four was also the
year that Elaine Noble became the first openly queer individual to be elected
to a state legislature when she joined the Massachusetts House of
Representatives. One month later, Allan Spear, future President of the
Minnesota State Senate, revealed to the world that he was a proud gay man.
And in Southern Illinois, a twitchy little
blogger-to-be rocked the bowl cut, practiced her cursive, learned her multiplication
tables, and began a love affair for the ages when she discovered homonyms.
But 1974 was notable for one
other very important milestone: an passionate young lesbian published the
groundbreaking novel, Riverfinger Women.
Book: Riverfinger
Women
Author: Elana Dykewomon
Publisher: OpenRoads Media
In her debut, coming-of-age novel, Dykewomon
presents Inez and her circle of friends—the Riverfinger Women—who are all struggling
to find themselves amid the changing social mores of the Civil Rights era. Inez,
who has known she was a lesbian since childhood, moves from the conservative
confines of her boarding school to a Greenwich Village apartment populated by a
host of moveable figures. It is in the Village that she encounters cascading
new emotions—friendship, romance, longing, disappointment, and a sexual
relationship, with schoolmate Abby. Along with their wide-open friend, Peggy,
Inez and Abby begin a transition into womanhood, all the while confronting
unexpected prejudices. As the story unfolds, the Riverfinger Women explore
sexual violence, prostitution, drugs, love, and odd snippets of happiness during
this unique time of personal and sexual discovery.
Many readers of contemporary lesbian
literature tend to shy away from stories that make them work for a payoff. Opting
instead for sexy romps between Barbie twins with impressive bank accounts, or
high-adrenaline shootouts featuring tough and chewy butches with guns and the
vulnerable hotties who love them. However, Riverfinger
Women, penned by Dykewomon when she was only twenty-four years old, is both
a feminist manifesto and hallmark of lesbian fiction. It manages to combine
equal parts YA angst with cutting-edge exploratory fiction. It’s deep. It’s
dark, It’s gritty. And, it’s a little bit salty. It starts out slowly, and
builds into the powerful confession of a woman and a lesbian coming into her
true self.
Riverfinger Women is a story
that should be read by every lesbian “of a certain age,” because it
deconstructs themes that have run through all of our lives. Dyekwomon’s women made
the world what it is today, just as surely as she helped make us the women we
can be today. But younger readers should read this novel, too. Specifically
because it was written 40 years ago when life as a woman and as a lesbian were
harder, when society was less tolerant, and when books like this were published
in back rooms and mailed out in brown paper wrappers.
Forty-years ago, I was seven going on eight.
I didn’t know what a lesbian was, but I’m pretty sure I was one. Elana
Dykewomon, and a legion of strong, smart, and courageous women made sure that
when I grew up, I could say “lesbian” without having to whisper, that I could
marry the love of my life—legally, and that I could write a very public blog on
the World Wide Web featuring books by, for, and about women just like us. We
owe Elana and all of our foremothers the respect of reading the stories that
helped change our world. This is our one, true birthright.
Book: Time Fries!
Aging Gracelessly in Rehoboth Beach
Author: Fay Jacobs
Publisher: A&M Books
Here’s one of the worst kept secrets of the
Lesbiverse: I have a spouse-approved crush on Fay Jacobs. It’s true. When I
grow up, I want to be Fay Jacobs. Until then, I’ll settle for being her Cabana
girl. This is not an easy job. I have to be at the ready with a martini shaker,
polarized Foster Grants, bleu cheese stuffed olives, and three different kinds
of vodka—none of which I might add, are named “Popov.”
When I finally got to meet her in person a
few months ago, I actually screamed like a teenage groupie at a Justin Bieber
court hearing. I think I might have even jumped up and down, asked for an
autograph, and thrown my bra at her. I can’t remember, what with all the
swooning and giggling. Fay is a pro, though. She’s used to forty-something
lesbians flinging black Wacoals in her path. Still, she had the good sense to
be amused, sign an autograph, and get her picture taken with me before requesting
a Temporary Restraining Order.
Our relationship is complicated, but it works
for us.
Yes, I love me some Fay Jacobs.
I also love me some Time Fries! Aging Gracelessly in Rehoboth Beach. In this, her
latest madcap memoir, Fay takes on technology, social media, catastrophic
insurance, a passive-aggressive GPS, the repeal of DOMA, retirement, downsizing,
and her very own Big, Fat Jewish Wedding.
Heck, she even cops to her own life-long, spouse-approved crush on the
lovely and talented Angela Lansbury.
As with her three previous memoirs, Fay’s
stories range from the warm, wise, and witty to the laugh-out-loud. Along the
way, she reminds us how far we have come, but cautions at the distance yet to
travel. As is her trademark, Ms. Jacobs approaches each essay with bracing
honesty, homespun humor, and a hearty helping of self-deprecation. Her writing
is crisp and clean, but her storytelling is epic.
While I might be a bit biased, it’s
impossible to deny that Fay Jacobs is a national treasure. Time Fries! and its companions (As
I Lay Frying, Fried & True,
and For Frying Out Loud) really and
truly should be read and savored. Fay’s stories are our stories—they’re just a
little more zany, usually involve a marauding horde of Mini Schnauzers, and are
served straight up in a martini glass.
***
As a reviewer, I have been writing about
lesbian literature for three-and-a-half years. Until now, I’ve had one simple, ironclad
rule: with so many established and
emerging authors, I will only review each author once. This rule has served
me well. But every now and then I long to revisit an author because the writing
is something special, or because the work contains something that I want to put
on the collective radar of the lesbian reading community. With this blog entry featuring
Elana Dykewomon and Fay Jacobs, I’m breaking my own rule, and writing for a
second time about two of our community’s greatest riches.
I chose Dykewomon’s coming-of-age Riverfinger Women because it has been
re-released as an e-Book on its 40th anniversary. Dykewomon, a Jewish lesbian
activist, is a trailblazer in lesbian literature who fiercely navigates an
unkind world through her essays, poetry and fiction—all the while giving women
and lesbians a strong voice and positive imagery. However, the general lesbian
reading community tends to see Dykewomon more as a feminist who writes about
lesbians, rather than as a lesbian who writes about women. The simple truth is
that her voice is poetry, her message is positive, and she helped change how we
read lesbian fiction today.
Besides my spouse-approved crush on Fay
Jacobs, I chose Time Fries! because
it captures brilliantly the profanity of the everyday world through the eyes of
a mature woman. Jacobs, another Jewish lesbian activist, is likewise a
trailblazer in lesbian literature who has flung open the doors to her life,
teaching us lessons about faith, trust, love, survival, and dignity. She’s not
just smart and funny, but passionate, sincere, and wide-open. She’s the premier
storyteller of our writing community. Through her stories, everyone—male and
female, and gay and straight—learn how provocative our everyday lives truly
are.
Two books and two authors who span a writing
generation.
Dykewomon, writing as a 24-year old, gave us a
deep, dark, moody coming-of-age novel with a happy ending.
Jacobs writing as a 65-year old takes us on a
celebration of life, and all that we hold holy: family, friends, community, the
right to marry, and gay-friendly martini bars.
And the world is a very
different place.
