Letters to the Editor

To the Editor:

            I write to share my concerns about how the January-February 2025 issue is framed, specifically the invocation of Billie Holiday’s “Strange Fruit” as a thematic anchor. While I recognize the creative effort to explore themes of “strangeness” and “fruitiness,” using “Strange Fruit” in this way—without acknowledging that it concerns a lynching—comes across as a deeply troubling act of whitewashing.

            Billie Holiday’s “Strange Fruit” is more than simply a song. It is a profound, haunting artistic response to the lynching of Black bodies in the United States—a harrowing critique of systemic violence and racial terror. To decouple it from its historical and cultural weight, reducing it to a whimsical reference for unrelated explorations of queerness, is culturally inappropriate and diminishes the experiences of those whose suffering inspired this work.

            It is essential, especially in lgbtq+ spaces, to approach such cultural symbols with the sensitivity, historical accuracy, and cultural competency they demand. While the issue aims to celebrate diversity and nuance, mishandling a piece as significant as “Strange Fruit” risks alienating communities that have long struggled for recognition and respect, struggles just like those experienced by our lgbtq+ communities.

            I encourage you and the editorial team to reconsider how this framing might be perceived and to engage with the song—and its legacy—with the reverence it deserves. It might also be beneficial to include an acknowledgment of its origins in any related content, ensuring readers understand its context.

            I appreciate the work you do to elevate queer histories and voices, and I hope my feedback resonates as an opportunity to broaden and deepen the cultural inclusivity of your publication.

Lorise Diamond
Director, Linguistic Communication
Development Center, Los Angeles, CA

Sexual Tolerance in Colonial America

To the Editor:

            I read John Gilbert McCurdy’s Vicious and Immoral, which is discussed by Andrew Holleran in the November-December 2024 issue, shortly after reading The Overflowing of Friendship: Love between Men and the Creation of the American Republic, by Richard Godbeer, which offers an enlightening glimpse into 18th-century colonial society. Godbeer studied a facet of upper-class colonial society in which written sentiments of closeness and fraternalism flourished.

            In stark contrast to the pre-Revolutionary British regiment whose morality was strictly dictated by Mother Ireland, 18th-century America entertained a value of personal freedom that was in keeping with the new democratization, free from the former patriarchal system. Open and

effusive expressions of desires for both fraternal and physical love, as seen in correspondence between men, reflected that era’s sensibility toward a new social and political contract.

Jonathan Wind, New York, NY

Notes on Lorca and Dalí

Dear Editor:

            I enjoyed the two articles about Federico Garcia Lorca and his relationship with Salvador Dalí [Nov.-Dec. 2024 issue], as the “Generation of 1927” is a favorite subject of mine. Here are a couple of further considerations.

            The first is that Federico was able to move on into some very constructive relationships after Dalí, including one during his trip to the U.S. On a two-week sojourn in Eden Mills, Vermont, he re-connected romantically with an American student, Philip Cummings (who was discussed in a fascinating article in the Nov.-Dec. 2019 issue  titled “Lorca in Vermont: The Untold Story”). Their romance and creative collaboration have yet to be fully integrated into Lorca studies.

            Tragically, Lorca’s murder in 1936 had repercussions throughout the intellectual life of Spain and the Spanish-speaking world. Dalí was among the many people who were shocked and horrified by this event. However, in 1947 Dalí made his peace with Franco, the Falange, and Catholicism. He returned to Spain and was heralded as a symbol of artistic freedom in Franco’s Spain. This is the same government that not only murdered Lorca but

imprisoned thousands of Spanish intellectuals. Any assessment of Dalí must acknowledge this support for a regime that took the life of his close friend.

            Interesting, too, is Dali’s friendship with film director Luis Buñuel, with whom he had collaborated in writing the surrealist short film “Un chien andalou.” While Buñuel, no fan of the Franco regime, was living in exile in Mexico in the 1950s, Dalí approached him about doing a sequel to the 1929 film. Lorca had believed this film to be a parody of him and an affront to his Andalusian heritage. Buñuel declined the collaboration. Consequently, Dalí’s friendship with the director did not end well.

Ken Borelli, San Jose, CA