Showing posts with label Books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Books. Show all posts

A Chequered Romance

word!


What happens when the Prime Minister of Great Britain falls in love with an African Revolutionary Leader?

After having a brief relationship during their University days at Oxford, George and Masimba go their separate ways. A decade passes. George works his way up the slippery political ladder, becoming Prime Minister at the spectacularly young age of 29. Masimba, on the other hand, returns to his homeland of Zimbabwe to forge his own political career, eventually becoming opposition leader and fighting for the freedom of his people. 

Civil war ensues in Zimbabwe, and George watches from Britain as his ex-boyfriend’s life hangs in the balance. Concerned for Masimba’s safety, and harbouring a pent-up desire to meet him again, George arranges for Masimba to be granted exile in the Ethiopian Embassy in Britain. Masimba reluctantly agrees, but as he arrives in London, he realises that his feelings for George are still strong.

George’s decision to help Masimba is not popular. He has to contend with disapproval from the tabloid press, the King of England and from the President of the United States, no less. And he also faces a threat to his Premiership from political rivals who smell blood. Both the Chancellor of the Exchequer and the Foreign Secretary manoeuvre themselves into position to oust George as PM. To make matters worse, George’s secret love affair with the Chancellor has recently ended acrimoniously.

What George wants more than anything else is to meet up with Masimba again, and rekindle their romance. And when an opportunity arises for them to spend a weekend together at the Prime Minister’s private residence, Chequers, George seizes the moment and Masimba gladly accepts his invitation. 

Against all odds, will romance succeed at Chequers?

A Chequered Romance (The Chequered Romance Series - Book 1), a novel by Lawson Brook.


Lawson Brook was born in 1977, and lives in Newcastle-upon-Tyne, England. His debut novel, Murder Oblivion, is available now.
____________________________________
If you can, please support KAOS with a tip.

Buy me a coffeeBuy me a coffee

 Your support helps keep the lights on, and it means I can keep delivering LGBT news, reviews, pop culture and eye candy. Every contribution, however big or small, is welcomed. Thank you.



____________________________________
Unless otherwise stated, KAOS does not claim credit for any of images featured on this site.
The copyright of all images remains with their respectful owners.
If you own rights to any of the featured images, and object to their appearance here, please get in touch. 

K A O S © 2 0 2 0

Les amitiés particulières

ART
SKOOL
A  R  T     I  S     N  O  T     A      T  H  I  N  G  ,     I  T     I  S     A     W  A  Y


Les Amitiés Particulières, by Roger Peyrefitte, is the story of an affair between two boys in a Catholic boarding school, and the ensuing tragedy when their love is discovered by a priest. 

The was translated into English, and made into a 1964 film, This Special Friendship, directed by Jean Delannoy. In 1953, Flammarion published a deluxe two volume edition, with illustrations by Peyrefitte's favourite illustrator, Gaston Goor.

The Vale of Cashmere

Art
Skool
Art is not a thing, it is a way.

Photographer Thomas Roma's new book In the Vale of Cashmere is a series of hauntingly beautiful black-and-white portraits taken in the wooded cruising grounds of Brooklyn's Prospect Park - known as the Vale of Cashmere - and is dedicated to Roma's close friend Carl Spinella, who could often be found in the Vale before dying in Roma's arms of an AIDS-related illness in 1992.

“These brilliant photographs, capturing the dialectic between desire and disappointment, anxiety, and comfort, ultimately remind us of our own continuous rites of passage as human beings. Roma’s photographs are truly saving graces,” says Henry Louis Gates, Jr., director of African-American research at Harvard University, says of Roma’s work.

In addition to the book, Roma's pictures can also be seen at Thomas Roma: In the Vale of Cashmere, on view from 29th October until 19th December at the Steven Kasher Gallery, 515 W. 26th St., New York, NY 10001.

Stroking Desires

Art
Skool
Art is not a thing, it is a way.

Souljah

 review 
 Souljah 

JOHN R. GORDON'S NEW NOVEL, Souljah, comes with an unusual gimmick: A movie trailer. That's because a blistering short film  of the same name (starring Ludvig Bonin and Nathan Clough) has recreated a key sequence from early in the novel. You can head over to YouTube and watch it right now. I'll be waiting here until you get back.

Done? Did you enjoy that? Did it make you want to find out what happens next?

This wonderful little short is just a hint of the rollercoaster ride Gordon takes us on with Souljah, which oscillates between horror, comedy (one of the most grimly funny sex scenes you'll ever read), tragedy, and in the nail biting climax - which takes us on a heart-stopping night chase through London's streets - thriller.

"When violent thug Evill and his drug-dealing South London crew menace Stanlake, a young African refugee, and his mother Poppy, little do they realize that this effeminate youth is a former child soldier, capable of the most extreme responses. Forced to meet violence with violence, Stanlake stands up to his tormentors, only to find himself drawn into a darkly erotic and passionate relationship with the damaged, closetted Evill. As love begins to bloom between the two deeply-scarred young men old evil erupts, threatening to consume them both and compelling Stanlake to face – and move beyond – his past."

Souljah takes us back to when Stanlake was growing up, before, and most gruelling of all, during his time as a child soldier. Anyone who's seen Johnny Mad Dog will know what to expect: a catalogue of dehumanising horrors, that play out in a hyperreal, dreamlike fashion. It's Lord of the Flies, boys doing things they really shouldn't. Author Gordon doesn't allow us to look away from the spectacle, except to juxtapose 21st century London. And it turns out it's no less brutal than the war zone Stanlake is fleeing from.

In a way, Souljah echoes Gordon's brilliant 2012 novel Faggamuffin, which saw a gay Jamaican fleeing "the most homophobic country in the world" (a title now hotly contested by a number of African countries). In that novel, we saw London through a Yardie's eyes. With Souljah, Gordon goes even deeper; Stanlake must find his place in a world that is completely alien to him, and endure the dehumanising process of seeking asylum. It's a privilege for us, the readers, to witness. Painful, but a privilege, nonetheless.

But it's not all doom and gloom. Stanlake's - and his mother Poppy's - observations about modern Britain are often amusing and on the nail, and his slowly blossoming relationship with Evill a joy - albeit one that constantly feels like it might be crushed by the ugliness around it. But Gordon doesn't go in for cheap tragedy, a trope beloved by so many gay writers and filmmakers. Souljah brims with optimism and hope, despite the horrors adeptly recounted within its pages.

So it's a shame that, despite its depth and power, you probably won't hear about Souljah in the gay press. This month's Attitude has previews of books about Oscar Wilde, and the latest from the lady who wrote Tipping The Velvet; The Advocate is similarly backward looking and whitewashed. The stories of black gay men don't seem to be of interest to the gay powerbrokers.

That's a real injustice, because this is a story that deserves everyone's attention. Souljah is truly breathtaking, in scale, and in ambition. At times, the book had me crying like a baby. The book's final act escalated so rapidly I just couldn't put it down. I had to know how Stanlake and Evill's story ended. You will too. Be a soldier for the good guys: go out and buy Souljah. You won't be disappointed.

Souljah is out on Monday 22nd September 2014.

Read our exclusive interview with author John R. Gordon.

A conversation with Larry Duplechan

kaos talks exclusively to Lambda Literary Award winning Blackbird legend Larry Duplechan, about the movie they made out of his book, interracial love, the AIDS crisis, the death of gay bookstores, and more....

WORDS BY ZEON KANE

||| Hello Larry, thanks for joining us today from sunny California! Congratulations on the movie adaptation of your 1986 novel "Blackbird". How was it for you?

Not so much to tell, really. Patrik-Ian Polk had been talking about doing an adaptation of Blackbird since the early 1990s. And he'd pop up every few years and say, "I'm gonna make the Blackbird movie", and then he'd do something else. And about a year ago, he said it again, but this time he had a little contract for me to sign, which I did. About a year later, somebody posted a blurb on Facebook about Mo'Nique starring in Patrick Polk's adaptation of Larry Duplechan's novel, Blackbird; which is how I found he'd actually made the film.

||| Always the last one to know, huh? Have you seen the movie?

I saw the film at its L.A. première in February, and I liked it. It wasn't my book - in fact, he made some big changes to my story - but it's a good little film.

||| I'm hearing a "but" in there...

Unfortunately, I had to get lawyers involved to get the producers to pay me my (very low) fee for my film rights. That experience has soured me to the whole thing, so I'm distancing myself from the film. I'm glad I saw the film first, before having to go to the mat with the producers. But still, I can't say I like them very much.

||| That's a real shame. "Blackbird" is a much-loved gay literary classic, and a rarity in that we are able to follow our hero, Johnnie Ray Rousseau, through several stages in his life in the sequels. It's been a while since 2008's "Got Til It's Gone" - is there another chapter to come in Johnnie's story?

I don't think so. I left Johnnie in a really good place at the end of Got Til It's Gone: in love, about to get married, his demons pretty well slain. I think I'll just leave him there.

||| How much of you is in Johnnie? Is there an element of autobiography in there?

An element?!? Yeah, I'd say so. Johnnie is basically me. Not everything that happens to him happened to me, and some books are more directly autobiographical than others; but Johnnie is pretty much Larry, monologuing. His favorite movies and music, his sense of humor. My friends all tell me that reading my books is like listening to me talk. For better and for worse, I imagine.

||| So everyone can get a little piece of you! That's good to know. Now, one of things that really changed in the "Blackbird" movie was the race of certain characters, from white to black. Despite supposedly being in a post-racial era, race is still a red hot issue in America, and particularly in the gay community. There's a lot of talk right now about prominent black gay men (Derrick Gordon, Michael Sam) having white boyfriends - what are your thoughts on that?

Oh my gosh, that is so not a short-answer question. Okay... I'm married to a white man for 38 years; so clearly, I'm all for people loving who they love.

But on the other hand, I do understand Black gay men who long to see prominent Black gay men hand-in-hand with other Black gay men. All minorities crave representation - we want to see ourselves reflected, in positive ways, in the media. But reading Michael Sam to filth because he's got a hot little white swimmer under his arm, just isn't productive.

It saddens me to see how quickly and how violently we can turn on and devour our own. I hope that's enough. You're more than entitled to follow-up questions, because this is a very, very important issue.

||| It seems to be a very American issue, much more so than in, say, the UK, where interracial love is almost the norm! America, gay and straight, just isn't comfortable with interracial love, is it?

Well, as I'm forever explaining to my non-American-born friends, we in the U.S. of A. have still not gotten over slavery. The fact of it, the repercussions of it, the legacy of it. And I don't just mean fawning over 12 Years a Slave like no one had ever told that story before. The American construct of race is a creation of the Antebellum South; and we can't seem to escape it. Whatever other racial/ethnic groups have had to endure in America (and in no way am I trivializing the near-genocide of Native Americans), African-Americans are the only group that was ever legally non-human. Chattel. Property.

And the mental hoops White people had to jump through in order to live with the fact that they owned people, was the source of all the horrific myths that Black Americans are still fighting against: the myth of our animalistic nature, the myth of our sexual wildness, the myth of our mental inferiority, and on and on.

And one of the things that nobody seems to be addressing in all the hoopla regarding gay Black people and their Caucasian spouses/lovers/dates, is the fact that the White person is still viewed as some sort of prize. Why is nobody assuming that the Black partner is the trophy?

God, I'm going to get in trouble for this ...

||| What was it like for you and your partner in the '70s? Was the prejudice worse then? Are Americans more tolerant now, or less so?

Are we talking about tolerance regarding race, or gayness or both?

||| As an interracial couple.

Greg and Larry at Long Beach Pride, 1994.
Well, Greg and I met in college. So we started out "adult life" as a couple. We didn't have the "my Black friends" vs. "his White friends" problem, because we made friends together. We surrounded ourselves with supportive people; and people who had an issue with us, steered clear. This was particularly important, because our respective parents turned their backs on us (at least initially), so creating a family of friends was essential.

We didn't go out into "The Gay Community" very much; since "The Gay Community" is largely loose affiliation of entities dedicated to getting White gay dudes laid, and mostly we were home, trying to make a marriage. And when we did venture out dancing or something, I don't remember overhearing any name-calling as we walked down Santa Monica Boulevard together, or anything like that. Of course, we were in Southern California, not Southern Mississippi.

And, modesty aside, we were beautiful young guys; and one of us was a beautiful White guy; so I was spared a lot of the things I heard other Black gay men talk about at that time - being denied entrance to gay bars, or being hassled or whatever. Because I wasn't with a group of Black men; I was one Black guy with this handsome white guy. So I wasn't perceived as a threat. Mostly, I remember people saying things like, "I'll take one of each - chocolate and vanilla."

||| 38 years - seems like all that "trying to make a marriage" paid off! Some people might say what you've achieved is rare for gay men.

Well, we were lucky. We worked at it, but also we were lucky. We didn't get HIV, which was just luck of the draw, because in 1976, we had no idea. And looking back, it seemed like when one of us was acting stupid, the other one wasn't. So, while we nearly broke up a few times, we never actually did.

I just saw something today on Facebook: "A perfect relationship is two imperfect people not giving up on each other." That's Greg and me.

||| There's a lot of work being produced now about the AIDS crisis - incredible films like "How To Survive A Plague" - and the forthcoming "The Normal Heart". As someone who lived through that time, how does it feel when you see these works?

It's tough. We lost dear, dear friends to HIV/AIDS, starting in 1989 with our best friend, William Edward "WEF" Fleischman, who was (if memory serves) 32-years-old. So, I tend to cry a lot during those films. But I do try to see them, because (and I think it's true of a lot of gay men of my generation) I have a very "Never Forget" attitude about the subject. Some gay people, young and old, would rather we didn't talk about that time; but I think if we do that, we spit on the graves of all those men we loved.

||| It's insane that many of us don't want to talk or think about it. "How To Survive A Plague" should be mandatory viewing in all schools, alongside education about the Holocaust and slavery...

I just watched "Common Threads"... Do I remember right, and you said once Vito Russo was a friend of yours?

Vito Russo.
Yes. Not lifelong bosom friends, but friends. I had been a huge fan of Vito's since college - I'd seen one of his first Celluloid Closet lectures at UCLA in the late 1970s and devoured the book. Being a gay film buff, he was like my patron saint.

As it turned out, he did a blurb for the cover of the first edition of Blackbird; so I begged my senior editor at St. Martin's (Michael Denneny, an unsung hero of gay literature) to introduce us, which he did. This was about 1986-7. My husband and I had a wonderful lunch with Vito, gabbed and gabbed.

Then around 1990, Vito happened to be doing Closet (probably among the last times) on a gay cruise we were on. And he let us hang out with him pretty much the whole time. I literally sat at his feet and listened to his stories.

He was a wonderful, wonderful man. I could go on ...

||| The AIDS crisis is now over, apparently. Condoms are rapidly disappearing from gay porn, and there's even a gay hook-up site for men seeking bareback sex. Again, as someone who lived through the height of the epidemic, how do you see these developments?

I'm not going to pretend I don't know fucking feels better without condoms. I know that. And I understand that what straight people get to call making love, we have come to refer to as "bare-backing", making our way of intimacy seem inherently unhealthy and dangerous. But the fact remains that there is still no cure and no vaccine for HIV/AIDS - please correct me if I'm wrong. And as to the popular the argument that it's now "a manageable disease, like diabetes" - well, I don't want diabetes, either.

But each man has to decide his own acceptable level of risk. Far be it from me to tell you, or that guy over there, or that guy over there, what to do with your respective dicks and butt-holes. That's your business and not mine. Condoms or bareback, morning-after pill or night-of pill - it's each man's life and each man's choice. I try not to judge. Out loud, anyway. Because we know for sure that "use a condom every time" works about as well as "just say no". It's just not that simple. I wish it were.

||| Larry, the first time I saw your name was for the blurb on the jacket of another author's book, "Skin Deep" by John R. Gordon. It was in a gay bookstore and I was 17. I was lucky enough that a good friend introduced me to your work not long after that, lending me out-of-print copies of your early work. That kind of experience - a young gay kid discovering things in a bookstore - isn't likely to happen these days, is it? What do you think about the loss of gay bookstores, and the current state of gay literary publishing?

Picture by Davide Laffe Imaging.
Joni Mitchell sang, "Everything comes and goes, marked by lovers and styles of clothes." I tend to be rather sanguine about change, because it's one of the few inevitables of life.

I miss gay bookstores, of course. When Blackbird was published, we had a book signing/reading at A Different Light Bookstore in the Silverlake area of Los Angeles (left). We brought in bottles of champagne and had a party. I invited everybody I knew. It was an event. And that store is long gone.

The last reading I did for Got Til It's Gone was at the Different Light in West Hollywood in 2008. By that point, my husband and I had a running joke about going into A Different Light and "visiting the book", because there were so few actual books in the store - it was mostly magazines and porn. And my reading was one of the last events held at that store before it, too, closed.

So yeah, it's a different world. I can't have a book signing party on Amazon. But the good news is, you can buy my out-of-print novels on Amazon, sometimes for the price of shipping.

As to "the current state of gay literary publishing", I wouldn't have a clue.

Back in the 1980s, when I started writing, I could read every "legit" gay novel that came out in any given year. Each one was an event. Now, I don't read many "gay books", unless I'm judging the Lambda Literary Awards, which I have done a few times since I won the Lammy (in 2009 for Got Til It's Gone). From that experience, I think there is still some very good "gay novels" being written; and a good deal of dreck. The downside of the legitimization of self-publishing is that the market is glutted.

The good news is, if you're a gay writer and you write something, you can get it out there. Whether you can get anybody other than your Facebook friends to know your book exists is another matter; but you can get it out there. You can have your say. Back in the olden days, you had to get some stranger to think your book was worth publishing. Now, only you have to think it is. Whether or not that's a good thing, probably depends on what side of the equation you're on.

||| Larry, you have an impressive physique for a man just shy of 40. What's your secret?

I'm not sure if "just shy of 40" was a typo or a joke. I'm 57, or "just a shout away from 60". Either way, thank you.

I have always taken good care of my body. I started working out with weights in my 20s and I've never stopped. From what I have observed, it's much tougher to "get back in shape" once you've let yourself go, so... don't let yourself go.

||| Larry, thank you for talking to kaos today. Come back again soon!

Anytime. Just ask me.

Black and gay in the UK

TEAM ANGELICA PUBLISHING is looking for exciting new voices for its ground-breaking forthcoming anthology, provisionally-titled Black and Gay in the UK and scheduled for release in Autumn 2014.

Award-winning novelist and screenwriter John R Gordon is putting together an anthology for the Team Angelic imprint, provisionally entitled Black and Gay in the UK.

“The aim is to create a volume that captures something of the rich variety of black gay men’s experiences in the UK, primarily as seen by black gay men themselves, but also including narratives, reflections and perceptions of non-gay family members and friends and non-black partners and friends.

We want to put together something that is in part in dialogue with those ground-breaking 80s African-American gay anthologies, Brother to Brother and In The Life, but that disrupts monolithic assumptions and speaks determinedly to a British and contemporary setting.

Is a volume celebrating in print the challenges and triumphs of black gay men in the UK needed in 2013? We think so. Whatever social progress there has been, black gay men still rarely see work of any sort that puts their lives and experiences centre-stage, and we hope this will be a chance to do so, and that this book will become some sort of resource, and at the least will capture an exciting moment in history.

We’re actively looking for stories, poems, (auto)biographical writings and think-pieces both serious and light-hearted about black gay experience in the UK. We hope to include the words of the young and less formally-expressed alongside those of the elders, whose insights into how perceptions around race and sexuality have changed over time are of particular interest; the insights of those more recently-arrived alongside those born and raised here; and the wisdom of those who are already known alongside that of the Future Legends.

Do check out our website, Team Angelica, for details and to see what we do.

Love,

John

The business end:

Work should be previously unpublished and not more than 5000 words in length. Excerpts from longer works are acceptable so long as they stand up in themselves.

If you’d like to send us something, please save it as a doc or docx or rtf file and email it to john@teamangelica.com. Please name your file as ‘[storytitle] by [author]’. In the subject-line on the email please say ‘submission for anthology, [title] by [author’s name]’. Within the document please number pages, and in the header say ‘[title] by [author]’.

A nominal payment will be offered for work accepted, along with a non-exclusive contract with Team Angelica Publishing and author copies of the anthology.

"Battyman in di studio!"

 review 
 Faggamuffin 

I
T'S BEEN A long time since John R. Gordon's last novel, Warriors & Outlaws, but in the meantime, we've had episodes of Noah's Arc (as well as the screenplay for the film, Jumping The Broom), and the brilliant short film Souljah. But since Gordon's publisher - the iconic Gay Men's Press - folded, no new books.

So, has fourth novel Faggamuffin been worth the wait?

Here's a clue: it was on the stage in London, long before the novel was even published. Iconic, black gay singer McAlmont was in the audience (I know - I held the door for him as he exited the theatre).

Faggamuffin joins John R. Gordon's previous works - Black Butterflies, Skin Deep, and Warriors & Outlaws - a definitive gay, Afrocentric oeuvre, with a very London bias. But here's the really important thing about Faggamuffin: it's a gripping page-turner. Set aside its impressive literary credentials - the searing, undeniable truth-telling - and you've got an electrifying plot in which our protaganist, Cutty, flees homophobic violence (and the murder of his lover, Sonny) in Jamaica, pitching up in London at the flat of acquaintance (and mini drug baron) Buju. And one tiny spark becomes a night of blazing suspense: Cutty and Buju's lust - and love - becomes an all consuming fire, and the novel deals with the fall-out from that, with Cynthia, Buju's girlfriend, standing by with a fire extinguisher.

(Spoiler: the moment Cutty and Buju finally come together should go down in history as one of the most exciting, sexiest, moments in literary fiction. Trust me: you'll shout, "WTF?")

This is a sexy, deeply moving novel, an unlikely love story forged out of the hell this world has created for some of us. Ever wondered what it's really like to be a gay Jamaican (chances are, you're probably not one)? Hearing, secondhand, about the horrors endured by our brothers in that part of the world is one thing, but actually living them through Cutty is another. The novel subtley reminds us that, but for the grace of God (as it were), you or I could be Cutty, and asks us to consider how we might deal with the impossible circumstances Cutty finds himself in. Because let's face it - most of us reading Faggamuffin won't be under the cosh, will we?

Getting under Cutty's skin is a privilege, the trade-off being that we get to see ourselves through the eyes of one who doesn't have the freedoms most of us enjoy. Particularly effective is Cutty's response to London's gay village, Soho. Through Cutty's eyes, we witness the apparent freedoms enjoyed by London's gays, and thus see ourselves as those less fortunate see us. But Gordon takes it a step further; later, when Cutty hears of the violent homophobia that still exists in Britain, Cutty's vision of a tolerant, liberal paradise is shattered. Cutty sees that Britain really isn't much better than Jamaica: here, the violence is simmering just beneath the surface. That reader who might smugly have gone along with Cutty's initial summation is forced to remove their rose-tinted glasses.

The cast of (mostly West London) characters are expertly drawn by Gordon, who's lived in that part of the world for 20 years. As you'd expect, leads Cutty and Buju are lovingly drawn, consequently engulfing the reader in their unexpected romance. The boys in Buju's click are all interesting, carefully drawn characters, rather than the irritating one-note stereotypes they might easily have been. Even potentially unsympathetic characters are rendered human: cock-blockin', manipulative Cynthia could easily have been a one dimensional monster in less skilled hands, yet instead evokes a surprising degree of sympathy.

Ultimately, Faggamuffin is sexy, searing, thoughtful, romantic, exciting, brutal, and much more, but there's just one thing you need to know: this is a story like no other, that had my heart, mind and pulse racing - sometimes, all at once - and it's the best novel you'll read this year.

Do not miss it.

Read our exclusive interview with author John R. Gordon.

Photobucket

Chulito

 review 
 Chulito 

N
OVELS LIKE Chulito don't come around very often, so it's only fair to warn you that this review is an unashamed love letter to a perfect literary dish.

Chulito, by Charles Rice-González, plunges us head first into a Latino neighbourhood in the Bronx, where we're fully immersed in Catholic guilt, bodegas, highly strung Latina mamas, street thugs, and a lot of ¿Qué pasa.

Also taking in the gay youth culture of Manhattan's piers, Chulito is a coming-of-age, coming out love story of tough, sexy, hip-hop loving Chulito (literally, "cutie"), and the colourful characters who populate his block. Popular with everyone in the neighbourhood - including enigmatic drug dealer Kamikaze - Chulito is an alpha-male in the making. Then there's Carlos,  Chulito's best friend until they hit puberty, and people started calling Carlos a pato: a faggot. Chulito rejects Carlos and becomes best friends with Kamikaze, but when Carlos comes home after his first year away at college, Chulito's worlds collide...

Rice-González lovingly depicts this poor Bronx neighbourhood in the kind of detail that leaves you feeling like you were there. He then populates Chulito's world with a vivid cast of characters: the Auto glass guys, gay Julio in his travel agency, Looney Tunes on the corner, Puti the broken drag queen... They all leap off the page. Chulito is the perfect summer novel, bursting with Latino pride. But the real pleasure is for the reader: I couldn't put this sizzling tale down for a minute. A major factor is Rice-González's rendering of conflicted 16-year-old Chulito ("a Latino, hip hop version of Michelangelo's David"), a thoroughly engaging character who might, in less skilled hands, have come across as a vapid jerk. González invites us to fall in love with Chulito - as much as Carlos does - and succeeds. As the novel progressed, I found myself frantic with worry for Chulito, and subsequently, Chulito and Carlos' burgeoning love. You'll fall head over heels, you'll care, and trust me, you'll be left bereft when it's all over. The very last scene is a poetic, cinematic masterstroke; quite possibly, one of the most beautiful things I've ever read. (Over a week later, Chulito still hasn't been returned to the bookcase - I keep rereading that perfect last scene.)

This vivid, good-hearted book filled me with joy, and when it was all over, I had to fight the urge to start all over again. Chulito moved me, and as is fitting for a novel about a 16-year-old's gay boy's coming of age, thrilled me, toyed with me, and slapped me around for good measure. Thanks to Mr Rice-González, a little part of my heart will always belong to Hunts Point, Bronx, New York.

Next time: We check out "The Beauty Of Men" by Andrew Holleran.

Read an interview with author Charles Rice-González.

Charles Rice-González: Official website.

The Legend of the Ditto Twins

 review 
 The Legend of the Ditto Twins 

Everyone loves twins, but no more so than twins themselves. That's the message in Jerry Douglas' The Legend of the Ditto Twins (Bruno Gmünder), an exploration of all-American twins Mark and Clark, who get a bit too close for their mother's comfort.

The novel follows their sexual awakening "from a modest dairy farm in America's heartland to the glamorous world of Berlin's physique models, from the wonderland of Prague's adult film industry to the fast lane of New York's glittering club life... and ultimately, all the way to the Supreme Court of the united States."

A perfectly charming read, more Carry On Twincest than hardcore porn, it takes its cue from cosy Americana like The Waltons ("Goodnight Mark!", "Goodnight Clark!"), but once the lights go out, the fun starts. Unfortunately, Douglas relies way too much on the long since broken taboo of twins being into each other: this novel is at least 10 years too late. We've had Bel Ami's Elijah and Milo Peters, who've done everything the Ditto twins have (and more) in full HD technicolour. And they aren't the only naughty twins in the biz - the Goffney twins have a colourful backstory worthy of a feature film.

Douglas throws in some ripped-from-the-headlines issues - there's a thinly-veiled version of the Westboro Baptist Church nuts - and we're asked to accept that same-sex incest is the next big civil rights issue. There might be something in that, but a lightweight slap'n'tickle book might not be the place for it.

What's unforgivable is the final, jarring change of tone, delivering the most distasteful, inappropriate climax (involving those famous twins from September 11) to any novel I've ever read.

The Legend of the Ditto Twins does work, however. It's a fun romp with a serious side, and the twins themselves are endearing. It's just a shame about that misjudged finale.

Next time: We check out "Chulito" by Charles Rice-Gonzalez.

"Battyman in di studio!"

review
Faggamuffin

I
t's been a long time since John R. Gordon's last novel, Warriors & Outlaws. In the meantime we've had Noah's Arc, and short film Souljah, but since Gordon's publisher, the iconic Gay Men's Press, folded, no new books.

Is Faggamuffin worth the wait?

Here's a clue: Rikki Beadle-Blair (Metrosexuality, FIT, KickOff) loved the manuscript so much he put it on the stage in London - long before the novel was even published. Iconic, black gay singer McAlmont was in the audience.

Faggamuffin joins John R. Gordon's previous works - Black Butterflies, Skin Deep, and Warriors & Outlaws - as the definitive account of what it means to be black and gay, today - with a very London bias. But here's the really important thing about Faggamuffin: it's a gripping page-turner. Set aside its impressive literary credentials - the searing, undeniable truth-telling, the "message" - and you've got an electrifying plot in which our protaganist, Cutty, flees homophobic violence (and the murder of his lover, Sonny) in Jamaica, pitching up in London at the flat of acquaintance (and mini drug baron) Buju. The strapline for The Towering Inferno applies here: one tiny spark becomes a night of blazing suspense. Cutty and Buju's lust - and love - becomes an all consuming fire, and the novel deals with the fall-out from that, with Cynthia, Buju's girlfriend, standing by with a fire extinguisher.

(By the way, the moment Cutty and Buju finally come together should go down in history as one of the most exciting, sexiest, moments in literary fiction. Trust me: you'll shout, "WTF?")

This is a sexy, deeply moving novel, an unlikely love story forged out of the hell this world has created for some of us. Ever wondered what it's really like to be a gay Jamaican? Hearing, secondhand, about the horrors endured by our brothers in that part of the world is one thing, but actually living them through Cutty is another. The novel subtley reminds us that, but for the grace of God (as it were), you or I could be Cutty, and asks us to consider how we might deal with the impossible circumstances Cutty finds himself in. Because let's face it - most of us reading Faggamuffin won't be under the cosh, will we?

Getting under Cutty's skin is a privilege, the trade-off being that we get to see ourselves through the eyes of one who doesn't have the freedoms most of us enjoy. Particularly effective is Cutty's response to London's gay village, Soho. Through Cutty's eyes, we witness the apparent freedoms enjoyed by London's gays, and thus see ourselves as those less fortunate see us. But Gordon takes it a step further; later, when Cutty hears of the violent homophobia that still exists in Britain, Cutty's vision of a tolerant, liberal paradise is shattered. Cutty sees that Britain really isn't much better than Jamaica: here, the violence is simmering just beneath the surface. That reader who might smugly have gone along with Cutty's initial summation is forced to remove their rose-tinted glasses.

The cast of (mostly West London) characters are expertly drawn by Gordon, who's lived in that part of the world for 20 years. As you'd expect, leads Cutty and Buju are lovingly drawn, allowing the reader to love them, and thus find themselves engulfed by their unexpected romance. The boys in Buju's click are all interesting, carefully drawn characters, rather than the irritating one-note stereotypes they could easily have been. Even potentially unsympathetic characters are rendered human: cock-blockin', manipulative Cynthia could easily have been a one dimensional monster in less skilled hands, yet instead evokes a surprising degree of sympathy.

Ultimately, you could call Faggamuffin sexy, searing, thoughtful, romantic, exciting, brutal, and much more, but there's just one thing you need to know: this is a story like no other, that had my heart, mind and pulse racing - sometimes, all at once - and it's the best novel you'll read this year.

Do not miss it.

Read our exclusive interview with author John R. Gordon.

Faggamuffin

THE KAOS THEORY talks exclusively to Noah's Arc writer John R. Gordon about his new novel, Faggamuffin.

So what's Faggamuffin all about then?

It’s the story of Cutty, a gay Jamaican who flees the country after a violent homophobic attack. He comes to the UK and stays with an acquaintance, Buju, a petty drug-dealer on the rough West London White City estate, and his resentful girlfriend Cynthia, who quickly gets sick of this ‘wasteman’ crashing on her couch. Cutty starts to fall for Buju, and starts to believe his feelings might be reciprocated – and they are, in the course of a house-burglary. Cutty and Buju start a deeply down-low relationship, but it’s when Cynthia catches them having sex that Cutty’s troubles really begin… So it’s a pacey, action-packed tale, but on another level it’s about the down low, and the particular risk of it: that it can cripple the spirit and make love impossible. Cutty and Buju have to fight to make a life they can live, and in that sense it’s about finding the heroic in the midst of the tragic.

Faggamuffin gets pretty steamy. Were you ever worried readers wouldn't be able to read it on, say, the Tube?

I did think about how graphic I wanted the book to be, as I know straight folks can get a bit upset reading gay sex – and my mum loyally reads all my books too. But I didn’t want to self-censor, and I think it goes to character: what sort of sex do these repressed and self-consciously intensely masculine guys have? It’s not more graphic than, say, Alan Hollinghurst. I hope people do find it sexy.

You're not a native Jamaican - was it hard to get Cutty's dialogue right?

It’s intentionally ‘patois lite’ anyway, as I wanted non-Jamaicans to follow it easily. I hope I’ve caught some of the rhythms and phrasings: black British chums of Jamaican descent who read it seemed to feel I had, and helped me with spots where I’d gone wayward here and there. I had Damian Marley playing a lot of the time I was writing the book, and have some Blue Mountain theatre tapes that helped me find the register and structures. But I’ve loved patois ever since seeing The Harder They Come when I was a student, and I was listening to a lot of reggae back then.

Faggamuffinwas adapted for the stage, wasn't it? I caught the performance - (black gay singer) David McAlmont was in the audience! Tell us about that.


Yes, by me for [the] Louder Than Words theatre event. Nathan Clough, who played Cutty, and is himself black British of Jamaican descent, actually said the language was somewhat of his father’s generation, and that modern patois is much more infused with African-American slang. I’d registered that from listening to music, but tended to play that aspect down for fear of creating the impression that I was writing an inaccurate mish-mash of Jamaican & black American registers.

I stupidly thought that as I had the plot and characters, turning the book (which is full of events) into a play would be quick and easy. It was in fact painfully slow and total torture, and on the day of the performance, I cut five pages near the end – and suddenly the structure snapped together, and it was really very successful. I had a great cast, which helps. It was a diverse audience, and it was interesting what moments sparked a very different response across racial lines. For instance in the play there’s a moment where Cutty punches Cynthia in the face, knocking her down. She at once jumps back up and carries on dishing him. This would make black people (mostly) laugh; whereas white people seemed more just shocked. Not because black people don’t care about violence: they just instantly liked Cynthia’s moxy & refusal to be a victim.

I ended the play with a ritual declaration of the power of love, and during rehearsals I wasn’t sure it would work, but as the actors were declaiming someone in the audience called out, ‘Amen!’

It was lovely that McAlmont came to see it, and took the trouble afterwards to say he’d enjoyed it. I’m a big fan of his music, in all its varied manifestations, from indie-rock to jazz.

With the election of the seemingly pro-gay equality Portia Simpson Miller, Jamaica's in the (gay) news at the moment, isn't it?

Yes, and how wonderfully encouraging it is: she made these very clear statements, and she won by a landslide! What’s great is that progressive-minded straight black folks here, in the Caribbean and in Africa, are starting to assert themselves; to say, simply, that reactionary religious zealots or malignant dictators like Mugabe don’t speak for them. It was great to hear, for instance, Wole Soyinka speaking up on behalf of tolerance when the situation in Nigeria is so bad right now, and when he so easily could have said nothing – or Desmond Tutu, who again could have ducked the issue, but has spoken out courageously and repeatedly in favour of equality.

It made me worry that I might be making Jamaica look bad in Faggamuffin, but I was representing things that were – and are, for all the signs are encouraging for the future - really happening there today; and of course the emergence of a strong liberal voice doesn’t alter the broad way gay and lesbian people are perceived. As someone astutely said, victory would be a hate crimes bill that included LGBTIQ people. As far as my book goes, I’m writing as best I can towards a black audience, so there’s no intention to, as it were, offer up Caribbean dirty laundry to a bien-pensant white middle-class audience for them to scold Jamaicans over. In any case, my intention is to have readers relate to people – a refugee; a petty criminal – they might normally not think about, or not think of as having complex inner lives. Or, if they are those people, to see their lives for once placed centre-stage in a tale, and taken seriously.

Black gay representation has always been all about America. Why do you think there's so few black gay books and films from the UK and Europe?

One thing is sheer numbers. A tiny percentage of any group become writers (or film-makers). There are, I think, about 30,000,000 African-Americans; by contrast there are about a million and a half black people in Britain. Black Americans developed a substantial middle-class out of segregation; black people in Britain are mostly working-class, and writing fiction is generally fairly much a formally-educated activity – though of course there are always exceptions. There was a whole black film industry in America in segregation times too. And then, thinking of here, the world of publishing has its establishmentarian gate-keepers who are unwelcoming to newcomers, and not interested in voices who want to speak to audiences in their own communities. Interestingly in the late 80s and early to mid 90s black gay playwrights emerged in some numbers – perhaps in part because you can scrub some money together and put on a play with relatively little permission from the establishment. Paul Boakye, for instance, and Oscar Watson, whose play Battyman Blues starred a pre-Wire Idris Elba in a gay part.

Mind you, black gay American writing seems to have settled into somewhat of a middle-brow rut, very much in the mould of E. Lynn Harris or the (straight) women’s writer Eric Jerome Dickey, somewhat conservative and written with half an eye on a female readership. Nothing wrong with that (the largest numerical audience for Noah’s Arc was straight black women) but there does seem to me a lack of more serious and demanding work. Though African-Americans have the same challenge as the rest of us over getting work published and out there.

Faggamuffin is your first novel since 1998's Warriors & Outlaws - where have you been?

My publisher GMP went under just after that, followed by a whole lot of other small presses, so I lost that outlet, though I kept on writing novels. I had a grim moment turning 40 when all my options seemed to have shrivelled up. But just after that – literally within six months - Noah’s Arc came along. I edited on the first series, wrote episodes on the second, and co-wrote the feature-film, and in between that I wrote the Bobby Blake autobiography, so I was keeping busy. I wrote a novel, Colour Scheme, which we’re going to bring out next year with Team Angelica, and then Faggamuffin, which we decided to bring out first as it’s timely and provocative and should help the imprint make an impact.

You were pretty instrumental in the writing of Noah's Arc. Why do you think it ended so abruptly? Is there any hope for the future?

Money was a big thing. Logo (the cable channel) was always only modestly funded (by Viacom), and original drama is always the most expensive sort of thing to make. Noah’s Arc was a ground-breaking show that helped put the network on the map and give it credibility, but they wanted to make other narrative shows too, understandably, including lesbian shows, and they could only afford one show at a time. Also, due to if nothing else that passive racism that takes no interest in those different from itself, they didn’t manage to sell the show abroad (unlike their other big success, RuPaul’s Drag Race). Having said that it always sold ‘surprisingly’ well on dvd in the States, hence we got to make more episodes. If you’re wondering how the good sales could always be a surprise you’re right, it didn’t make much sense.

Series two looked more expensive but was cheaper because it was filmed in Canada, not LA, (bar I think Patrik was allowed two days to shoot exteriors in LA). We ended it on a huge cliffhanger (the car-crash) to try and make the network give us a third series, but behind the scenes money was getting tighter. So a third series was off the table. But once again good dvd sales perked up Logo’s interest, and they came to Patrik with the idea that as they could only afford half a season’s worth of episodes, why not make a 90-minute feature-film instead? Patrik started off in features (debuting with Punks, starring Rockmund Dunbar and Seth Gilliam [Oz, The Wire], which he wrote, directed and co-produced), and liked the idea.

A storyline was agreed on (by Patrik, me and Q. Alan Brocka). Patrik took a long time to deliver a script, and was then told that what was needed was a much cheaper, single-location story. He couldn’t face going back to the drawing-board and at the eleventh hour I was asked to come up with a totally new script, which I did, writing very fast. That got the production back on track, and with Patrik cutting, trimming and interpolating various scenes, the film was shot about six weeks later. It turned out well, and he promoted it with great adroitness, and it got noticed, and both cinema and dvd sales were once again ‘surprisingly’ good. It won a GLAAD award and the script got a NAACP Image Award nomination, of which I’m extremely proud.

Logo then floated the idea of a spin-off show, one that would see some of the core characters in a heterosexual world, which would fit in with their rebranding themselves as not a gay but a ‘gay sensibility’ network. This had the potential for a nice fish-out-of-water comedy-drama project, but unfortunately during the lengthy development process the entire Western banking system collapsed, and that was the end of that.

Since then Patrik’s been promoting various projects, (including singing in the band Fol Chen), and has gone back to his indie roots with a new feature-film, The Skinny, which he’s completing at the moment, and in which Darryl ‘Noah’ Stephens has a cameo, but that’s not a project in which I’ve had any involvement.

Some of your work has been taught in American universities, hasn't it? Tell us about that.

Yes, I’ve been taught in courses in race and sexuality in literature at the University of Santa Barbara, California, and Bodean College in Massachussetts. My work is teachable. Skin Deep stands out because it’s one of the few modern gay novels really exploring interracial relationships; and Warriors & Outlaws because it’s unusually concerned with the intersection of sexual and racial and revolutionary politics. I’ve been sent some of the students’ essays, and they’re quite fascinating, and sometimes suggest a brilliance in me I wish I could take credit for! For instance, on the first page of Warriors & Outlaws there’s a brief description of a child’s bedroom wallpaper – pink mice and blue elephants – which ‘foreshadows the debate on gender roles’ between the two protagonists (one macho, the other a flame queen). I was delighted with my own subtlety...

Tell us about your literary influences?

The writer who first made me see writing as a moral vocation, and whose work spoke to me so intensely it was almost physically painful, was James Baldwin. I loved his fieriness, his political engagement, and his fusion of the social and analytical with a near-mystical belief in the redeeming power of love. His writing just had this burning power, and I had a sense of nearness to subtle, intangible yet visceral things reading it: yes, writing could do this. The other writer who moved me in his intensity of language and vision was William Faulkner, the tragedian of whiteness, and I retain a love for the Southern Gothic. I’m also very influenced by the social realism of Richard Wright and the earlier novels of Chester Himes (who as a person I completely love): they had that fusion of harsh social commentary with the grip of a thriller that I very much wanted to get in Faggamuffin – though in Faggamuffin I also needed a Baldwinian uplift and affirmation of humanity. Himes’ later Harlem thrillers are brilliant too.

In poetry, Essex Hemphill above all.

I also feel a peculiar kindredness with Amiri Baraka and William Burroughs, though not really stylistically: they both speak to me somehow as people, as writers, as does Raymond Chandler. Before I found my subject or began to really understand myself and my particular vocation I found a great youthful pleasure and stimulation in the horror fantasy of H.P. Lovecraft and Mervyn Peake, both of whom made me want to put down words to create some sort of effect, and in Tolkien, who I still love for the sweep and strength of his story-telling.

How do you feel about e-books?

I think they’re the future, or a big part of it, but I can’t get past the feeling that they don’t really count. I don’t think I’d feel I’d published a book if it never had any physical existence and was just a file on the internet like any other file of words. Also Amazon’s deal for Kindle isn’t very good. But they’re certainly here as a substantial adjunct to the physical book, and already academic journals, for instance, have become largely on-line affairs. Perhaps we’ll end up with a similar scene to what we have now for vinyl records: afficianados will buy physical books while most of us just get the download.

What are you working on now?

A novel called Souljah, about a gay African former child soldier who is persecuted by local youths who just see him as an effeminate victim. He bashes back and begins a complex relationship with one of the youths. It’s also a strong look at religion and the damage faith can do, and the search for meaning and transitions on the road to manhood in our alienated society.

And I’m working on a new festival of new plays, to be given staged readings in (currently I think it’s) March and June at the Theatre Royal, Stratford East. We dramaturge and develop them with the writers.

What do you hope readers will take away from reading Faggamuffin?

That they’ve had an exciting read, and that at the end of it the reader realises he or she has thought about things more deeply than they realised they were doing at the time; that they entered into a world most likely unfamiliar to them and saw the humanity of the people living there; or, if they are closer to that world, that they saw something hopeful there that they could use. That embracing our diversity makes us free.

John R. Gordon was speaking exclusively with THE KAOS THEORY. Faggamuffin is available now, from Amazon and all good book stores.
 
◄Design by Pocket