Books
Poodle Beach reads
Here are the queer books you should check out this summer


Troye Sivan stars in the film adaptation of āBoy Erased.ā Read the book this summer before the film debuts. (Photo by Heidi Sleiman)
The weather is finally getting warmer. Shirtless joggers fly past you on 17th Street. All signs suggest that the first gay holiday weekend is fast approaching. So are you dying to look a bit more literate on the sands of Poodle Beach this summer? Worried that all the gays suddenly have Vanity Fair subscriptions and youāre wanting to look a bit more original.
Why not pick up one of these reads for your gay beach bag?
āLess,ā by Andrew Sean Greer. Have you ever skipped town to avoid an exās wedding? Have you ever wanted to? Meet Arthur Less, a single gay man fast approaching 50, measuring himself, and his happiness, against everyone else. Avoiding the wedding, he instead sets off on a hilarious, tender, at times beautiful journey of self-discovery around the world. Greer nabbed himself a Pulitzer for this, his sixth novel.
āStray City,ā by Chelsey Johnson.Ā This is the one Iāve enjoyed the most, a novel sensitive and so superbly written. Take yourself back to 1990s Portland, a city where young people flocked to, searching for drugs, music, adulthood, or a refuge from adulthood. The character Andy Morales is one of those people. A lesbian, she gets pregnant after a drunken fling with a man. Her gay friends all rally around her when she decides to become a single lesbian mom.
āBoy Erased: A Memoir,ā by Garrard Conley.Ā Take a look inside the world of gay conversion therapy. The son of a southern Baptist preacher, Garrard is forced into it after being outed to his family. Ultimately a tale of survival, empathy, and forgiveness, this true story will hit the big screen this fall, featuring Nicole Kidman, Russell Crowe and Troye Sivan.
These are just three suggestions of new gay novels. If itās a blast from the queer past you seek, try one of the following:
āTales of the City,ā by Armistead Maupin.Ā If someone doesnāt have a dogged-eared, somewhat warped from saltwater copy of this gay standard on their bookshelf, go ahead and judge them. This is perhaps the quintessential beach read ā short, punchy chapters, funny and relatable. And with the return of this series to Netflix just announced, youāll be all caught up on this seminal classic.
āHow I Learned to Snap,ā by Kirk Read.Ā Again, short, and laugh-out-loud hilarious. Follow Kirk Read as he takes you back to his days as an openly gay high school student in rural Virginia. The sort of anti-David Sedaris memoir, Read shows us his queer teen years were one of resiliency and humor.
āStone Butch Blues,ā by Leslie Feinberg.Ā Another seminal work for your shelf. Butch? Fem? Trans? Feinbergās novel examines gender and identity in America, through the post-war 1950s, past womenās liberation and the Summer of Love, all through the lens of Americaās working class.
And if your taste runs to the more specific side of queer literature, try one of these:
⢠Science-Fiction: āProvenance,ā by Ann Leckie
⢠Fantasy: āRiver of Teeth,ā by Sarah Gailey
ā¢Ā Thought-Provoking: āChristodoraā by Tim Murphy
ā¢Ā Heartbreak: āThe Heart’s Invisible Furies,ā by John Boyne
I realize all these novels and memoirs have something in common. Everyone fleeing or searching for something else, trying to get somewhere ā somewhere professionally, romantically, geographically. Well, thatās a queer existence for you. So as you flee the city this summer for Fire Island, or Provincetown, or Rehoboth, or even just taking refuge at a friendās rooftop pool, take along one of these reads. At the very least, someone might approach you and ask, āHey, are you enjoying that?ā
Books
āHarley Quinn: Ravenousā a dark Gotham novel with a feminist warrior
New book awash in crazy action, humor, and superheroes

āHarley Quinn: RavenousāĀ
ByĀ Rachael Allen
c.2023, Random HouseĀ
$19.99/349 pages
Forget about it.
Put it out of your mind; don’t worry about it.Ā It’s likelyĀ nothing, so let it rest. Let it goĀ and don’t be afraidĀ because, as in the new bookĀ “Harley Quinn: Ravenous” by Rachael Allen,Ā fear is how they make you scream.

Being a first-year intern at Gotham University was going to be the best.
Having completed the university’s gap-year program last year, Harleen Quinzel was practically bouncing. She’d decided on research, possibly psychology, as a career and first year program included mentorship and a chance to study some of Gotham’s worst, most notorious criminal minds. The Joker, Two-Face, King Shark, Mr. Freeze, she could be assigned to any one of them at Arkham Asylum.
First year was also going to be a bit of a relief.
Sure, she’d still have to put up with classmates like the jerk who kept asking if she was “straight now” (nope, still bi, today, tomorrow, last week) and she’d have to try to fit in, which was hard to do after what happened at the end of last year. Then, some of Harleen’s friends were attacked with a fear spray that made them scream and scream, and her best friend died from it. There was gossip but Harleen had her research to enjoy, she loved her mentor, and she was fascinated by Talia al Ghul, who’d tried to assassinate Gotham’s mayor. Talia was a great study-subject ā even though Harleen wasn’t technically supposed to ever speak to her.
Until Talia said that she knew who made the fear spray. She needed information for information, tit for tat, and she hinted that she knew the truth about Straw Man, who was rumored to haunt Arkham and who had a hand in the fear spray, so…
So then Harleen woke up in the hospital, the victim of a bad accident and amnesia. But was it an accident? Were this guy, Win, and the adorable Ivy trustworthy? And the escape of Gotham City’s worst, most violent criminals ā was Harleen at fault?
Let’s say a movie theater mushed its film to a pulp and made a novel from the leftover cells. Or they used the mush to paint a Ben-Dot artwork panel, but in words. That’s kinda how you could think of this book. As a part of the “DC Icons” franchise, “Harley Quinn: Ravenous” almost screams graphic novel or comic book.
So what’s the problem?
Nothing, as long as you know that before you pick it up because that’s the sort of feel you’ll get in what only looks like a regular novel. Nothing, if you relish a story that starts with action and peppers it with chaos before dropping readers into a land of dark monsters and crime. Nothing at all, if you’ve read author Rachael Allen’s novel-before-this-one ā otherwise, you’ll be awash in humor, feminism, superheroes, and scrambling to find your footing. Be warned.
Overall, if you love a funny, crazy-paced dark-Gotham novel with a feminist warrior, you’ll devour “Harley Quinn: Ravenous.” As for a bookmark…? Nah, forget about it.

āMonsters: A Fanās Dilemmaā
By Claire Dederer
c.2023, Alfred A. Knopf
$28/288 pages
Recently, I listened to an audio version of āThe Sorcererās Stone,ā the first of J.K. Rowlingās āHarry Potterā series. I cheered when Rowling said Dumbledore is gay.
Yet, I wondered, should I read the Potter books (no matter how much I love them) when Rowling has made hurtful remarks about trans people?
That is the question many fans ask today: What do we do when artists make art we love, but behave badly?
āMonsters: A Fanās Dilemma,ā by memoirist and critic Claire Dederer delves into thisĀ vexing question.

This perplexing query has no ārightā answer that works for everyone. Yet, if you enjoy art, youāre likely to keep wrestling with it.
A book delving into this conundrum could be as outdated as the last news cycle. The cancel culture debate has engulfed social media for eons.
Yet, Dedererās meditation on the relationship between art and its fans is provocative and entertaining. Reading āMonsters: A Fanās Dilemmaā is like downing two, three, maybe four espressos after a couple of cups of strong coffee.
One minute, you may feel that Dederer has it exactly right. The next moment, you might wonder what planet sheās on.
I applauded Dederer when she wrote, āThere is not some correct answer…The way you consume art doesnāt make you a bad person, or a good one.ā
But I wanted to throw the book across the room as I read that Dederer preferred Monty Python over queer comedian, writer, and actor Hannah Gadsby. āListen, Iād rather watch the Pythons than Gadsby any day of the week,ā Dederer writes.
To be fair, Dederer opines about Monty Python to make a point about the āmonsterā of exclusion. āNone of these guys has the bandwidth,ā she writes about Monty Python, āto even entertain the idea that a womanās or person of colorās point of view might be just as ānormalā as theirs, just as central.ā
Dederer, the author of two critically acclaimed memoirs āLove and Trouble: A Midlife Reckoningā and āPoser: My Life in Twenty-Three Yoga Poses,ā struggles, as a fan and critic, with many types of monsters.
Dederer, who started out as a movie critic, began grappling with monsters in 2014. Then, āI found myself locked in a lonelyāokay, imaginaryābattle with an appalling genius,ā she writes.
The āappalling geniusā was filmmaker Roman Polanski, who, Dederer reports, raped a 13-year-old. Despite her knowledge of Polanskiās crime, āI was still able to consume his work,ā Dederer writes, ā[though] he was the object of boycotts and lawsuits and outrage.ā
Her gallery of monsters contains the usual hetero male suspects from Bill Cosby to Woody Allen. Dederer deplores Allenās behavior, but considers āAnnie Hallā to be the greatest 20th century film comedy. She finds āManhattanā unwatchable because Allenās character dates a high school girl, but considers āAnnie Hallā to be better than āBringing Up Baby.ā (Mea culpa: I love āAnnie Hall.ā But, better than āBaby?)
For Dederer, monsters arenāt only male or hetero. She wonders, for instance, if the brilliant poet Sylvia Plath, was a monster because she abandoned her children for her art.
Dederer muses about the actor Kevin Spacey (who will be on trial in June for alleged sexual assault in the United Kingdom), Michael Jackson, and J. K. Rowling.
āOne of the great problems faced by audiences is named the Past,ā Dederer writes, āThe past is a vast terrible place where they didnāt know better.ā
āBut, Dederer reminds us: sometimes they did.Queer writer Virginia Woolf (author of the luminous āMrs. Dallowayā and the gender-bending āOrlandoā) is a god to many queers. Yet, Dederer reports, Woolf, though married to Leonard Woolf, who was Jewish, made flippant anti-Semitic remarks in her diaries. You could say Woolf was just ājokingā as people in her time did. Yet, Dederer reminds us, gay author E.M. Forster wrote in a 1939 essay, ā…antisemitism is now the most shocking of all things.ā
I wish Dederer, who writes of racism and sexism in art, had written about the homophobia in art (in the past and present). Iād have loved it if sheād mused on the brilliant queer, anti-Semitic, racist writer Patricia Highsmith who gave us the āTalented Mr. Ripley.ā
Iād liked to have seen some mention of Islamophobia, ableism and racism against Asian-Americans and indigenous people in art in āMonsters.ā
Despite these quibbles, āMonsters: A Fanās Dilemmaā is a fascinating book. Thereās no calculator (as Dederer wishes there was) to tell us whether we should go with the art we love or renounce the work of the artist whose behavior we deplore. But, Dederer turns this dilemma into an exhilarating adventure.
The Blade may receive commissions from qualifying purchases made via this post.
Books
Chasten Buttigiegās new book a comforting read for teens
Coming out tale told with an upbeat, fatherly calm tone

āI Have Something to Tell Youā
By Chasten Buttigieg
c.2023, Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing
$18.99/209 pages
Experience, they say, is the best teacher.
Once you’ve done something, you can say you like it and you’ll do it again or not. The subject comes with a different viewpoint, once you’ve gotten a little experience with it. You’re wiser, more confident. As in the new book “I Have Something to Tell You” by Chasten Buttigieg, you’ll have the chops to offer valid advice.

If you’d have asked 8-year-old Chasten Buttigieg what life was like, he probably would’ve told you about his big brothers and how wild and daring they were. He would’ve said he didn’t have many friends and that he loved his parents. He wouldn’t have told you about being gay, though, because he had no frame of reference, no experience, or role models. He just knew then that he was “different.”
A year later, he watched āWill & Graceā on TV for the first time, and it was hilarious but he had to be careful. Already, he understood that being “someone ‘like that” had to be hidden. He watched Ellen and he was sure that “gay people weren’t found in places” like his Northern Michigan home town.
For much of his childhood, Buttigieg says he was bullied, but being lonely was worse. He was awkward, but he found his happy place in theater. “In school,” he says, “I felt a constant tug-of-war between where I was and where I wanted to be,” between authenticity and pretending. A year as a high school senior exchange student in gay-friendly Germany, then a “safe space” in college in Wisconsin clarified many things and helped him gain confidence and “broaden [his] perspective.”
By the time he met the man he calls Peter, “I felt at ease to present myself in ways I hadn’t felt comfortable doing.”
Still, he says, things may be better or they may be worse, “We’ve got a long way to go, but you, the reader, get to be a part of that promising future.”
Filled with an abundance of dad jokes and a casual, chatty tone that never once feels pushy or overbearing, “I Have Something to Tell You” may seem like deja vu for good reason. This gently altered version of a 2020 memoir, meant for kids ages 12 and up, says all the right things in a surprisingly paternal way.
And yet, none of it’s preachy, or even stern.
Though there are brief peeks at his adult life on the campaign trail with his husband, now-Secretary of Transportation Pete Buttigieg, the heart of author Chasten Buttigieg’s book is all memoir, set in a loving household in a small town. It’s lightly humorous but not trite; to this, Buttigieg adds a layer of subtle advice, and genuineness to a tale that’s familiar to adults and will appeal to young, still-figuring-it-out teens.
You can expect a “you are not alone” message in a book like this, but it comes with an upbeat, fatherly calm. For a teen who needs that, reading “I Have Something to Tell You” will be a good experience.
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