IT’S ALMOST IMPOSSIBLE to imagine the early AIDS years without Larry Kramer, who became the de facto conscience of the plague in the 1980s. His 1978 novel Faggots almost seemed to anticipate AIDS, with its parody of gay men caught up in hedonism and unrestrained sex. His anger at an inept healthcare system, evil politicians, and closeted gays crystallized in The Normal Heart, the landmark play about the early battles against AIDS in New York City. He cofounded the Gay Men’s Health Crisis in 1982 and led the establishment of act up in 1987.
Kramer has always had his detractors, notably those who felt he came down too harshly on many of his gay brothers. But it now seems we’re in a Larry Kramer moment. The Normal Heart finally came to the screen last year on HBO, winning the Emmy for Outstanding TV Movie. He is the subject of a feature-length documentary, Larry Kramer in Love and Anger, directed by Jean Carlomusto, which aired on HBO in June.
And then there’s the new book. The American People is a 775-page, swaggering historical epic, a novel that seethes with Kramer’s anger at a country he believes has a great deal to answer for. Volume 1: Search for My Heart is already dividing critics with its unusual journey through time, ranging from Kirkus’ starred verdict that the book is “breathtakingly well written” to the Times’ Dwight Garner’s crack that, due to its vast cast of characters, “like an old toilet, it is easily clogged.”
Kramer fielded questions via e-mail relay in early May.
Matthew Hays: Since this is for the “movie issue,” let me start by asking you about that intensely erotic male wrestling scene in Women in Love, for which you wrote the screenplay. Was there a lot of difficulty getting it filmed? It’s racy even by today’s standards. I’d be surprised if the studio hadn’t put up a bit of a fight about it.
Larry Kramer: The film was made in Britain for a very liberal American company, United Artists. Contractually I had to deliver a film that was release-able, which meant approval by the UK censor, Sir John Trevelyan. He’d been sent a copy of the script before we began shooting, and he pointed out the number of places where we might encounter difficulties—not only the wrestling scene but also the two straight sex scenes, one for each of the sisters. (By the way, I go into great detail on the making of this film in my book, Women In Love and Other Dramatic Writings, a Grove paperback.)
When we came to shoot all three of these scenes, we followed the text of D. H. Lawrence’s novel faithfully. The dialogue is from the book, as are the sets, which were made as Lawrence described them, and he was great at describing in detail what places looked like and what the women were wearing. We paid particular attention to the room and fireplace for the wrestling scene. So when we came to John, we said, “Here, this is all verbatim in the book, now considered a classic that is studied in school and has been in print since 1920.” He bought this, asking for a few little cuts so he could save face. It was the first [studio]movie that had “full frontal male nudity,” as it came to be called. Since it was such a huge success in London, UA decided to release it in America as is, even though in both countries it was X-rated.
Shooting the male wrestling scene was a complicated matter. Oliver Reed didn’t want to do it and actually brought in a letter from his doctor saying he had a bad shoulder, or some such, and to use a double instead. Ken Russell, our director, had worked with Oliver before on a number of TV docudramas and knew him well enough to tell him to cut the crap; he was going to do it. Not only that, but they were falling on a stone floor under a thin rug, because at the last minute Ken yanked out the felt padding under the rug, since you could tell it was something soft. Alan Bates, always a gentleman, was gay, and Oliver, who was a pain in the ass, probably sensed this. He also noted that Alan’s cock was bigger, so before every set-up, Oliver played with himself to make his dick bigger, which you can only dimly note. Both guys took healthy swallows of scotch to calm themselves down.
MH: You’ve been so controversial for so long. But now, with The Normal Heart getting the HBO treatment, the documentary on you, and the book, I feel like we’re in the middle of a Larry Kramer moment. Some are saying you were right about everything all along. Do you feel vindicated?
LK: I never pat myself on the back. There are still too many fights to be fought. There will always be people who support me and people I make angry. Controversy is good if it makes people think. Some of the reviews coming in on The American People are downright nasty.
MH: The New York Times review of The American People was decidedly mixed. What was your reaction to this review?
LK: I have never had a good review from The New York Times for anything I have written. There is still the Sunday Times book review to come. It bothers me because it affects the sales of the book. The daily reviewer obviously didn’t get it as Lewis Gannett did for you [in the Jan.-Feb. 2015 issue]. I see a pattern emerging: gay critics are much more in tune with what I’m trying to do and the straight critics think I’m nuts.
MH: Was there a particular review where you felt the critic just didn’t get the book at all?
LK: The Times reviewer [Dwight Garner] really was unkind. I can tell when a critic has read the book he’s reviewing. This guy hadn’t. It’s as if he copied some blurbs from somewhere. And in so doing he really hurts book sales.
MH: I know you started this many years ago. When did you first return to this book?
LK: I started writing it after Faggots came out in 1978. I’ve worked on it ever since, except for two long periods of hospitalization.
MH: The book is incredible. It’s such an intriguing fusion of fiction and fact. How did you arrive at the style?
LK: The same way any writer arrives at anything. You write and you discover. If you’re lucky, somewhere along the way the style reveals itself.
MH: Because you are taking these speculative flights, do you worry that some of the things you intend to be read as historical fact might be read as fiction?
LK: Let them believe anything they want to. I just want them to take the journey.
MH: Some critics are suggesting you are taking too many liberties with history. Historian Ron Chernow told The New York Times that “we have to be careful not to ransack history in service of a political agenda.” Your response?
LK: Bullshit. His writing is in service to a political agenda. As a straight white man he doesn’t see that, but as a gay man I can see it all over the place.
MH: You disdain straight historians repeatedly. Is there a straight historian that you feel has stood out in terms of getting some of our history correct?
LK: No, because there are none.
MH: You’ve said Reagan was the worst president the U.S. ever had. Yet he’s the poster president for the contemporary GOP.
LK: And he allowed AIDS to happen.
MH: You are closely associated with New York. How crucial do you think the city has been to the GLBT rights movement?
LK: The gay rights movement is more a dream than the powerful force it should be. Gays are not very good fighters, in New York or anywhere else.
MH: Really? New York has incubated a lot of powerful queer artists and writers. What about their influence on American culture?
LK: Don’t use the word queer. I loathe it. I am not talking about the power of art, which of course is necessary, and we have a lot of that. By fighters, I am talking about the general gay community everywhere. They may be out of the closet, but they are not really out of the closet, certainly not enough to be fighting activists out in the world, not just out at Fire Island.
MH: Why do you loathe the word “queer”?
LK: Because I am not queer. I am gay.
MH: Some see “queer” as an inclusive word that embodies gay, lesbian, bi, trans, and so on. You think it’s that offensive?
LK: I do. It’s like calling blacks “niggers.”
MH: Like the late Vito Russo, you’ve been driven by anger about complacency during the AIDS crisis. What makes you most angry today?
LK: That this is the 35th year of a plague, and we should know more and have more by now. Research for a cure is almost nonexistent. That’s the next fight that I’m trying to rev up anger about. Everything that should be done isn’t being done, and the world is being sold a bill of goods that are lies.
MH: I know you were married last year. Do you think same-sex marriage should be such a priority for queer activists today? Some have argued it has taken up way too much energy and money, at the expense of other issues.
LK: It took what it took, time-wise. Time to move on. Much of the gay marriage fight was done by straight people, lawyers working pro bono. But yes, I think we concentrated too much on getting gay marriage. But it shouldn’t have been either/or. It’s possible to fight for more than one thing. But, to repeat myself, gays are not very good at fighting.
MH: There is one moment that will always stand out to me with respect to the AIDS crisis. A friend was dying, and we held hands, and we looked at each other. And he knew it was over and so did I. No words were uttered, but it was just so incredibly, profoundly sad and helpless. Is there one moment in this entire war with the epidemic that stands out for you?
LK: Plague. Please call it a plague. There are many such moments as the one you describe. Perhaps the first one for me was in 1980 when a friend named Enno Poersch was walking desperately all around Fire Island Pines carrying his very sick lover, Nick Rock, in his arms, asking if anyone knew what was happening to Nick. He’d seen every doctor imaginable in the city, and they had no idea. Enno carried Nick to my house because he knew I was someone well-known, to ask if I had any ideas. The way he held Nick up to me, like an offering, a cry for help—I can still see that image. Both Nick and then Enno died.
MH: When I interviewed Ed Koch a couple of years before he died, he still seemed puzzled that you had taken such aim at him. Did you ever forgive him for his lack of engagement during the early years of the AIDS crisis?
LK: Why would or could I ever forgive a closeted man with all his power who wouldn’t use it to help his dying brothers? By the time you interviewed him, he was playing a different game, telling us how much he’d done.
MH: Barbra Streisand was originally supposed to direct The Normal Heart. Have you heard if she saw the HBO production and if she had any reaction?
LK: I wonder about that too, but I’ve never heard.
MH: What do you think of Obama as a president? Some on the Left call him Obummer; there’s a lot of disappointment in many of his policies.
LK: There has never been a president—or a Congress—that has done what a president or public servant should do to help save a dying population.
MH: The arrival of the Internet has made it harder for someone to live as a writer. Publishing has been hit hard, as have newspapers and magazines. What advice would you have for young, aspiring, impassioned writers today?
LK: It’s always been hard to make a living as a writer. But if you want it badly enough, you’ll find a way to write. There are many more outlets where stuff can be posted on the Internet, and it’s occasionally seen by editors and other outlets that can help push your visibility up a notch or two. But you’re right: there’s precious little money in publishing unless you write a commercial TV series or a hit Broadway musical.
MH: Did you find it strange to watch a documentary about you? How did it feel?
LK: Complicated, painful, thankful—many things. I didn’t want to do it, but Jean Carlomusto, the director, is an old friend and said she was going to make it whether I approved or not!
MH: I guess you’ve patched things up with Tony Kushner. What was his reason for not acknowledging that Lincoln may well have been gay?
LK: I have no idea. He didn’t think Lincoln was gay, and he was faithful to what his research made him believe. I offered to introduce him to academics who now have come around. I don’t know if he talked to them or not. I told him I thought it was his responsibility as a gay writer to broach this somehow. We are still distant with each other. I have apologized to him for harming what had been a very close friendship. He has said he wants to come and visit me, but he hasn’t. I miss him. Oh, the dramas of trying to write the truth.
MH: How does it feel to be eighty?
LK: Totally weird! One day you’re young and then, suddenly, one day you’re not. I am grateful I’m still alive, but I hate my loss of certain things, like mobility and energy. Some days when I have the shakes and can hardly type, I go nuts.
MH: Where do you think the gay community would be today if AIDS had never happened?
LK: Dancing ourselves to exhaustion.
Matthew Hays teaches film studies at Marianopolis College and Concordia University in Montreal.
