Tracing the Rise of the Gay Movement

First appeared in the New York Times, July 5, 1999.

AT ITS BEST, "Out for Good" vividly reports the activism and intramural conflicts of the 1970's gay and lesbian movement. The middle of this book is superb, but its frame weakens it. To end with the funeral of a Los Angeles political patron, Sheldon Andelson, in 1987 is peculiar. An epilogue about Bill Clinton's campaign promises of 1992 is even stranger.

Neither phenomenon makes sense as the climax of the gay and lesbian movement. Was the goal of the historical figures discussed in this book only to be a rarely greased cog in the Democratic Party? For some, it was. But there were and are gay and lesbian congeries of activist sex radicals, socialists and gay libertarians, not just caucuses of the Democratic Party. The authors, Dudley Clendinen, an editorial writer for The New York Times, and Adam Nagourney, a metropolitan reporter for The Times, largely ignore the many disparate groups of gay and lesbian advocates seeking broad social or political changes to dote on those seeking to be part of one political party.

Starting the book with the Stonewall Inn "riot" may make sense for an account of New York gay politics, but other than a symbol, little developed from it. (Even for New York City, another raid -- on the Snake Pit later in the summer of 1969 -- was more consequential for political organizing.) Before Stonewall, San Francisco provided models and precedents both of impolite public protests and of working with and within government for recognition and protection.

There is certainly plenty in the book about San Francisco and Los Angeles politics in the 1970's and 80's, but the foundational role of gay organizing in those cities is ignored to repeat the familiar tale of what was a false start in New York. Perhaps the best indicator of New York's nonleadership is one the authors note. The first municipal gay rights ordinance in the nation was introduced in the New York City Council on Jan. 6, 1971. One was enacted 15 years, 2 months and 14 days later -- following 3 states, 11 counties and 48 other cities.

After the unfortunate choice of an opening point, "Out for Good" is actually less New York-centered than other histories of the gay and lesbian movement during the 70's and 80's. It includes richly detailed accounts of battles in Minnesota and Miami and of a 1973 fire bombing in New Orleans, though the major focal points are California, Boston, New York and Washington. After detailed accounts of the 1977 repeals of gay rights ordinances in Miami and St. Paul, the authors mention but do not tell the story of the first success in combating such a campaign (in Seattle in 1978).

The authors also provide the perspectives of many female leaders, both lesbian separatists and those eager to take over organizations and to control resources mostly supplied by men. Yet there is hardly anything about lesbian mobilizations around such issues as child custody.

The multiple narratives within the book are character-driven. This makes it engaging reading. There are plenty of villains (most of them egomaniacs), some heroes and heroines, and strong plot lines about particular battles. The overall line of development is obscure, not least because the book's two endings are so arbitrary.

With so many would-be leaders and so few followers of any particular one, the authors' focus on those who commanded some media attention at one time or another is predictable. Most of the figures of the gay and lesbian movement who were prominent burned out from infighting, were singed by attacks (often very personal ones) or faded away from exhaustion. Many have died since 1992, when work on this book began. Anyone interested in the perspectives of earlier prominent figures in the gay and lesbian movement has to be grateful for the prodigious efforts the authors made in interviewing 330 people (some multiple times), and to hope that their records will be available to future researchers.

A truly definitive history, which the authors twice claim in the introduction to have produced, has to look beyond celebrities and leaders to those who worked out of the spotlight and to the "free riders" -- that is, the many people who gained from movements to which they contributed no time or energy. A definitive history would also have to provide a clearer analytical framework.

Along with individual profiles, a definitive history of the American gay and lesbian movement needs to compare this movement with those in other countries and with other contemporary movements in the United States. The civil rights movement and the Christian right are two with direct relations to the gay and lesbian movement, and offer useful comparisons of relative success, amount of infighting, frequency of schisms and so on. This lack is especially surprising because Mr. Clendinen has written extensively about the Christian right.

But systematic comparisons would make the book even longer and might not interest those who thrive on gossip about celebrities (even mostly forgotten minor-league ones). Instead of jettisoning background before Stonewall, the authors should have removed the account of mobilizations around AIDS. Their account is more reliable and far better substantiated than Randy Shilts's, but there are other, better analyses of AIDS activism (e.g., the second half of Steven Epstein's "Impure Science"). The authors dwell at inordinate length on David Goodstein, who published The Advocate for most of the years between 1975 and 1985 and repeatedly failed to shape gay movement strategy.

As prodigious as their interviewing efforts were, as interesting and reliable and well documented as their reporting is, and as well written as this book is, a more sweeping history not only of gay politics but also of gay culture can be found in "The Other Side of Silence," by John Loughery. "Out for Good" is the best history of gay mobilizations during the 1970's and useful on the early 80's, but Mr. Loughery's more analytic history, with its longer time frame, remains the best book so far available on the emergence of 20th-century American gay culture and politics.

Five Reasons I Don’t Take ‘Queer Theory’ Seriously

Presented at the 1997 annual meetings of the Pacific Sociological Association in San Diego, California in an "author meets critics" session on American Gay (University of Chicago Press, 1996)

FIRST, I BALK at the term "queer," which I do not think can be defanged. Moreover, I believe that those who despise differences will always be very happy to accord that label to anyone who wants it. Relatedly, I find it difficult to take seriously those who believe they can transvalue values and move away from "minoritizing" logic under an explicitly deviant label and in contrast to an explicitly normative one ("heteronormative").

Second, I find it difficult to take seriously an alternative to "binarism" built on a contrast of "normative" and amorphous contra-normativity. Rather than destroying binarism, replacing "gay" with "queer" merely further subordinates sexuality to gender - which is a more deeply entrenched dichotomy - in a continuing binary of domination.

Third, idealism and very vulgar linguistic determinism: In American Gay and elsewhere, I take the agnostic position that ideas matter, but usually not all that much. In my view, representation is not the only kind of human action, and is not the most important one. I think that the "queer" perspective - which I do not think deserves the name "theory" and certainly not that of "social theory" - romanticizes ineffective substitutes for politics. The most prominent one is subjective reactions to seemingly randomly selected high culture and popular culture texts, with no demonstration that others, let alone the masses, receive the often occult messages that analysts claim to decode. I am not convinced that subjectivity is produced by these discourses or that such texts influence more than they reflect society and subjectivities already fashioned by various prior means, not least by primary socialization. Along with this fascination with idiosyncratic readings of texts not demonstrated to have any effect on anyone is a sentimental romanticizing of what seems to be more juvenile acting out than serious attempts to change anything in the world, what I would call - with apologies to Lenin - "infantile post-leftist adventurism." Directly related to this is what I see as the apriori assumption that whatever subalterns do must be "resistance" - in particular that "playing with" or "playing at" gender erodes gendered social organization of domination. Variant performances and discursive practices do not change societies. I think that we need fewer celebrations of "transgression" and more analysis of how subalterns reproduce their own subordination, both intra-psychically (call it self-hatred, with "self" being a kind of person) and interpersonally (call it socialization). And we need especially to look at practices persisting even when linguistic patterns change, as I have done with the diffusion of the word "gay" in Latin America and Thailand, and as could be done with "queer" in Anglo North America.

Fourth, ethnocentricity and ahistoricism: For all the proclamation of difference, so-called "queer theorists" rarely look outside contemporary or very recent Northwestern Europe and Anglo North America. No more than the asocial constructionists I call "discourse creationists," do they attempt to look systematically or historically at how sex, gender, and/or sexuality are organized and conceived elsewhere and at times before World War Two. Gender-crossing performativity exists and has existed in many times and places without challenging the subordination of those gendered as kinds of "females." Those who live - or play - various transvestitic homosexual roles generally retain some male privilege, especially greater mobility or better access to the best materials for doing "women's work." In the other major pre-late-modern organization of same-sex sexual desire and behavior, the young are subordinated to their elders.

That is, being gender variant or engaging in same-sex sex has not been transgressive and has not destabilized hierarchies of domination. As I say in American Gay, I was very disappointed to realize that homosexuality is not necessarily oppositional. Indeed, rather a lot of those who engage in it are heteronormative. And by no means is it only "closeted homosexuals." There are many open lesbians and gay men who align themselves with the repression of what they regard as less respectable forms of gender and sexuality. Although we often enough fashioned new conformisms, the egalitarian theory and occasionally egalitarian practice of my generation - the "baby boom"/ gay liberation/lesbian feminist generation - was a novelty, and increasingly appears to have been a temporary fluctuation rather than the world historical trend many of us once supposed.

Sex between persons of the same natal sex has not been particularly problematic or condemned in some times and places, but almost always the sexually-penetrated biologically-male partner has been treated like a female wife, concubine, or prostitute by the older, more powerful, more conventionally masculine "partner." Within narrowly circumscribed limits, "gender" is socially constructed in differing ways, but where it is a major organizing principle - which is in most times and places - differences are ranked. The boundaries of human categories in general - not just of homosexual - are fuzzy, but playing with fuzzy boundaries of gender and sexuality categories has remarkably little demonstrated history of destabilizing enduring hierarchies.

Fifth, is the return of the repressed, that is, the revalorization of Freud's eternal and constant theory of motivation, further mystified in Lacanian rhetoric. Why so many deconstructionists are drawn to undeconstructed Freudianism is a mystery to me, one rife for sociology of knowledge analysis. Clearly, there is no place for social forces or spatial or temporal variability in this, and, of course, there is no basis for collective mobilization in Freudian or quasi-Freudian theorizing.

From Marx and Weber I learned that consciousness of kind is a prerequisite of collective organization - consciousness of kind is one idea that I think matters a great deal. Undermining it in the realm of literary criticism and other kinds of academic discourse does nothing to alter structured everyday domination of any sort in the workplace, law, education, or other public institutions.

If and when queer theorists produce a theory that seems to explain or predict something other than textual representations, I will be attentive. Until such a time, aware as I am of the quietist anti-empiricist zeitgeist, I am content to be considered a pre-postmodern, skeptical, empiricist and comparativist social scientist. As I say on the penultimate page of American Gay, "I feel that the mists of what has misappropriated the label 'theory' will at some point dissipate" and the book that I conceived as a mesage in a bottle will be found by those "somewhere or at some time who are interested in how people involved in homosexuality live their lives." I remain hopeful of that and having outlived what was my life expectancy when I wrote American Gay, I have even begun to hope I may live to see it.

Implicit references:

Murray, Stephen O.:

  • 1983. Fuzzy sets and abominations. Man 19:396-399.
  • 1994. Subordinating native cosmologies to the Empire of Gender. Current Anthropology 35:59-61.
  • 1995. Discourse creationism. Journal of Sex Research 32:263-265.
  • 1996. American Gay. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
  • 1999. Homosexualities. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.