A PROXIMATE REMOVE:
Queering Intimacy and Loss in The Tale of Genji
by Reginald Jackson
Univ. of California Press. 250 pages, $29.95
The Tale of Genji, which first circulated in exquisitely illustrated scrolls in 1008, tells the story of “shining” Prince Genji who, exiled from court by his father the emperor, spends his life engaging in affairs with women, and in one particularly moving sexual encounter with a boy. Jackson argues that Genji’s extraordinary beauty (which is emphasized repeatedly in the narrative), coupled with his exclusion by his father from the traditional public spheres of male heroic action, allows him to be feminized by other men in the text. In addition, forced by circumstances to repeatedly suffer loss, Genji’s sustained experience of mourning allows him to “melt emotionally” and indulge in poetically detailed physical sensations, resulting in what Jackson terms a “destabilization of all fixed positions of gender and sexuality.” Jackson is at his best when analyzing the nuances of selected scenes but grows tendentious when commenting at length on his own thought processes.
Raymond-Jean Frontain
ALL OF YOU EVERY SINGLE ONE: A Novel
by Beatrice Hitchman
Harry N. Abrams. 320 pages, $26.
This novel by Beatrice Hitchman is a work of historical fiction with equal parts set in 1911 and 1938 Vienna. Narrated from multiple points of view, the ensemble of characters reveal a story of loyalty, obsession, bravery, obstinacy, and a startling act of selfishness. Julia and Eve are the central couple around whom the plot builds. Eve is a tailor who dresses in sharp men’s clothes in 1911 Vienna; Julia works as a translator. They take an apartment in a Jewish neighborhood and become part of a close community whose members would do anything for each other—including stealing a baby for Julia, who’s obsessed with having a child. The child’s father is cruel, which is part of the justification for the kidnapping, but the mother is a sympathetic character who loved her new baby. Julia suffers little remorse for her action, and Eve, as always, goes along with her. Despite her crime, we continue to relate to Julia and admire her complexity and strength.
In 1938, with the Nazi annexation of Austria, the women’s lesbian relationship becomes dangerous for them. Eve continues to dress as she always has, but with much graver potential consequences. Here the book’s tension becomes gripping as the stalwart group of friends is under ever more threat. Julia refuses to leave for a safer place despite Eve’s urging. This comes across as more obstinate than brave. More of Eve’s point of view in this section may have helped explain why her stubbornness was tolerated. A highly readable, satisfying novel that at times raises more questions than it answers, All of You is highly recommended.
Anne Laughlin
I’M NOT HUNGRY, BUT I COULD EAT: Stories
by Christopher Gonzalez
Santa Fe Writers Project. 115 pages, $14.95
Even before Covid, loneliness was a kind of pandemic. Reflecting how contemporary social forces have isolated many Millennials, the characters in Chris Gonzalez’ I’m Not Hungry, But I Could Eat are alienated from other people, unable to connect with friends and family members. Set in New York City and the Midwest, many of the stories in this collection center around eating and drinking as the characters’ lives fall apart. A shared plate of chicken fingers leads to a violent sexual encounter with a closeted bi man. A gay man pines for his unrequited high school crush while trying to hide his sexuality from their friends. After a night of heavy drinking during which he’s frustrated by his inability to express his feelings, he sends incriminating photos to the crush’s fiancée. Later in the evening, he’s punished by another schoolmate for past cruelty.
A queer Puerto Rican living in New York City, Gonzalez is a fiction editor at Barrelhouse magazine, and his short stories have been published in print and on-line magazines. In this book, he has created a set of bisexual protagonists who struggle with jobs, relationships, and conflicting desires. They desperately want friends and lovers, and they miss those no longer present in their lives, but they end up wreaking havoc on everyone around them. Yet even when they’re hurting others and themselves, there’s something about these struggling characters that makes a reader want to reach out to protect and befriend them. As he holds up a mirror to our lonely world, Gonzalez has mastered the art of telling melancholy stories in a gripping manner.
Russ Lopez
WHAT WE PICK UP: Stories
by Stacy Brewster
Buckman Publishing. 292 pages, $18.
In his debut collection of short stories, Stacy Brewster gives us varied and vivid tales filled with characters whose past deeds have big consequence for the present, and who look to the future with a jaundiced eye. They often have great insight into what makes them tick. The alcoholic mother in “Earthquake Weather” who’s made a mess of her family and career knows that her life is only going to get worse and no longer tries to deny it. Her profound loneliness is moving, her inability to save herself, heartbreaking. Wonderful details animate these stories of often sad, often angry narrators trying to navigate their way through a complex world and into a better future. Queer characters relive experiences of gay bashing, of trying to form their own families, of freeing themselves from the toxicity of their families of origin, including the expectations placed on them by virtue of their maleness. Many of the stories are set in Los Angeles and touch on the film industry, which Brewster writes about with conviction. In the title story, the main character leaves the exploitative movie business to secure a better future. This is a prominent theme in the collection, and it’s the story of many gay people who move from loneliness and abuse into a future where they can thrive. There are many sexualities and a variety of perspectives in these engaging stories.
Anne Laughlin
