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Showing posts with label gay and lesbian literature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gay and lesbian literature. Show all posts

Saturday, September 7, 2019

Flirting in Literature

The postings on this site are my own and don’t necessarily represent IBM’s positions, strategies or opinions.

On Flirting: a Facilitated Discussion in Chicago, July, 1989 

While cleaning up recently, I opened a boxful of mementos from the '80s and early-'90s, which I hadn't seen since boxing them up for our move to New Jersey from Illinois in 1996, including:

When I was 22-23 and volunteering as a lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and queer (LGBTQ) youth group advisor in Chicago, I curated a series of literature-snippets. I accompanied each of them with a question or two, and made handouts that read, "On Flirting. Consider the following excerpts and questions and bring your thoughts to this Saturday's discussion."

My first real girlfriend and I broke up the prior spring and I had no idea how to flirt with women. I created the discussion guide to help myself. Growing up, I didn't feel free to flirt, especially not with girls. Perhaps some of the youth also felt unfree, I thought, and what a gift, via this discussion guide, to plant the seed that same-sex flirting with one another was OK:

The first excerpt was from "You're Ugly, Too" by Lorrie Moore, "The New Yorker," July 3, 1989:
Often, when she spoke to men at parties, she rushed things in her mind. As the man politely blathered on, she would fall in love, marry, then find herself in a bitter custody battle with him for the kids and hoping for a reconciliation, so that despite all his betrayals she might no longer despise him, and, in the few minutes remaining, learn, perhaps, what his last name was and what he did for a living, though probably there was already too much history between them. She would nod, blush, turn away.
And then...

Q: Have you ever planned too much, too quickly with someone you've just met?

The second snippet was from *Miss Manners' Complete Guide to Excurciatingly Correct Behavior* by Judith Martin, specifically the chapter, "Courtship (for Participants, Their Friends and Relations)." She wrote of how flirtation done properly was "an end, not a means."

And then...

Q: Have you ever had fun, flirting just for its own sake without it leading to a deeper involvement?

The third bit was from *Jitterbug Perfume* by Tom Robbins, a section, where Ricki hits on Priscilla and is rebuffed.

And then...

Q: Have you ever flirted with someone who was straight or equivalently unavailable?
Q: Ever tried to turn a flirtation into something more? What were the results?

The fourth excerpt was from *Lesbian Passion: Loving Ourselves and Each Other* by JoAnn Loulan, including, "Sometimes just setting rules takes the pressure off."

And then...

Q: Can you cut off a flirtation if it causes you more pain than pleasure? 

The fifth quote was from *The Lost Language of Cranes* by David Leavitt, where two friends consider becoming a couple.


And then...

Q: Have you ever flirted with a friend?
Q: How did you resolve this flirtation?

The sixth bit was from "The Village Voice" by Vince Aletti on June 27, 1989, where he reviewed a book of Bruce Weber's photography, including, "What makes beefcake so compelling now is its nostalgia for innocence."


And then...

Q: Do you prefer seeing explicit or suggestive images? [How about language?] 

The seventh excerpt was from *Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit* by Jeanette Winterson, including:
Poor Melanie, she didn't understand any of them, she just knew she needed Jesus....I went round to Mealnie's and we read the Bible together...and I was delighted. She was my friend, and I wasn't used to that....I talked about her all the time at home, and my mother never responded.
And then...

Q: Have you and another ever shared a passionate pursuit as a substitute for a romance between you two?

The eighth snippet was from *Hey, Dollface* by Deborah Hautzig. It was a Young Adult novel, where two high school girls fall in love, but in the particular scene, they're talking on the phone about a date one of them had with a boy.

And then...

Q: Have you ever tested a romantic prospect by detailing an exciting experience you had with someone else to that person? 

The ninth quote was from "The Rug of Identity" by Jill W. Fleming in *Lesbian Plays,* selected & introduced by Jill Davis. A lesbian couple is trying to rekindle their spark.



And then...

Q: If you've ever been or are now part of a couple, how do you sustain the fliration between you? 

The tenth excerpt was from "The Man in the Brooks Brothers Shirt" in *The Company She Keeps* by Mary McCarthy. It included an exchange between a man and a woman, where the woman is unimpressed initially until the man is familiar with the author of the book she's reading.

And then...

Q: What makes you not want to flirt back?
Q: Initially turned off, what can persuade you to become engaged in a flirtation?

The eleventh snippet was from *The Mind-Body Problem* by Rebecca Goldstein, where a woman and a man begin flirting with each other's intellect, agreeing that mathemeticians are aestheticians.

The twelfth and final bit was from *Self-Help* by Lorrie Moore, with a funny exchange between a man and woman who just met, where the woman is reading *Madame Bovary* in a Doris Day book jacket.

And then...

Q: Which style(s) of flirting do you most enjoy, e.g., eye-contact, intellectual, humorous... 

I wonder what became of those LGBTQ youth in Chicago. Today, they would be ages 44-51. Hope that those who wanted to learn to flirt did and found the loves of their lives eventually, like I did. 

Sunday, February 17, 2008

Sunday in New York with Pat

The postings on this site are my own and don't necessarily represent IBM's positions, strategies or opinions.

"One in 50 is autistic. Deal with it, A******s!" yelled a mother to the restaurant at large, dragging out her child while we were at dinner this evening.

Initially, her kid wasn't so much the problem; it was her friend's child, sitting at the other end of the table, screaming as loud as he could and setting off the autistic one.

The mother of the randomly naughty child said to our table, "Everyone was a child once."

"Yeah, but we didn't dare act like that at a restaurant," responded one of our friends.

"I guess we should just stay on the east side," said the woman, in a tone that sounded a bit desperate and condescending at once.

"The thing that bugs me sometimes," I said after they left, "is how people think that regardless of whether or not we are related to their children, everyone on earth is supposed to help take care of their kids, and cheerfully."

"Right, we didn't need to deal with her autistic kid," said one of my friends, who said he has an autistic nephew, "*She* needed to deal with him."

No matter what, I will never have empathy for parents, as I've not had a child. Considering the mother, who made the comment about all of us having been kids at one point, I changed the subject to children's books we loved as kids:

*Toby...*, about a zebra; anything by Maurice Sendak; *Harold and the Purple Crayon*; *The Phantom Tollbooth*; *The Book of Knowledge*; *James and the Giant Peach*; the Paddington series; Thornton Burgess'.....

We talked about gay and lesbian literature that first moved us, too. For our friend, who thought he wanted to be a fashion designer when he was in high school, it was *The Value of Nothing,* a novel by the fashion designer John Weitz; for another friend, it was seeing a gay porn magazine at a newsstand while in high school, "...which I didn't dare buy, of course!"

Another said it was a movie, rather than a book: "Alkali, Iowa." I told everyone of how I felt so bold, checking the card catalog for "lesbian" at my hometown's public library when I was in high school --

One of our friends said, "Right, and it had exploding, blue ink, so they knew what you'd been searching for?"

"There was only the most boring book, which I read in the library's basement all afternoon, a novel called, *Patience and Sarah.*"

Same friend: "So you were an impatient Sarah, reading *Patience and Sarah*!"

In an only-in-New-York sort of moment, when we were getting ready to leave, a group of five women at a table across the restaurant sang to a sixth one, "Happy Birthday" like I've never before heard it -- like they were from Julliard, with complex harmonies and nearly operatic voices.

All in one evening, at the same restaurant, we heard, as Pat characterized them, "Screaming by children from the 'Village of the Damned' and a chorus of angels."