Books
New Elton John memoir mostly zippy but lags in middle section
Anecdotal sameness sullies proceedings but droll humor returns
Nobody said it would be easy.
You have your eyes set on something but doing it will take time, sacrifice and effort. Youāll get things right, but youāll also get in your own way before you get to where you want to be and if you donāt believe that, then read āMeā by Elton John.
On and off through most of his life, John had a tumultuous relationship with his mother. She was sometimes angry, sometimes abusive, rarely loving, but she did one important thing for him: she introduced him to Elvis Presleyās music.
Though John says heād wanted to be a musician since he was very small, the 78 RPM his āmumā brought home opened a window for a huge record collection, a passion for seeing live music and a dream of playing in a band onstage. Soon, he was gigging with regional bands and accidentally meeting people who would help his career.
At 19, he was still a virgin, still naĆÆve about being gay and rather blithe about his natural ability to write music. That was OK, though; heād met Bernie Taupin, who wrote lyrics over breakfast and together, theyād pen hits by lunchtime.
At 22, John had fallen in love with a man, was no longer a virgin and āthings (professionally) were starting to move, very gradually.ā
Just one year later, he performed for the first time in America.
Through his early career, stardom gave John a delightful platter of surprises and he seized most everything that came his way: singers he admired praised him, famous people heād watched wanted to meet him. He later hobnobbed with royalty, both the music kind and the Buckingham Palace kind. He fell in love, married, divorced and fell into an obsession over something that made his life so, so much harder.
There is a certain aura surrounding the first third of āMe,ā and itāll charm the socks off you: author Elton John writes about his childhood, quickly, before he leaps into the bits about his early career with a sense of wide-eyed awe at what life had just handed him. If heād said āGee whiz!ā even once, youād understand.
Alas, after the kid-in-a-candy-store naivetĆ© evaporates and his career takes off, Johnās account of his young-manhood seems jaded; he says he was āexhaustedā by constant work and pressures, and the second third of his book shows that in the voice readers see. Here ā in the stories of parties, recording sessions and industry goings-on ā the tale starts to slip into that which plagues so many star biographies: name-dropping and seemingly unnecessary sameness. It would mar the book, were it not for the sense of droll humor that John continues to pack around his anecdotes.
By the final third of this book, we get a settled John whoās clean, happier, less frenetic but still funny. Hereās where readers reach what is likely familiar, as though weāve read this book before. But, of course, you havenāt because āMeā (also the title Katharine Hepburn chose for her memoir) is Johnās first and only autobiography and enjoying it is easy.
Books
Examining importance of queer places in history of arts and culture
āNothing Ever Just Disappearsā shines with grace and lyrical prose
āNothing Ever Just Disappears: Seven Hidden Queer HistoriesāĀ
By Diarmuid Hester
c.2024, Pegasus Books
$29.95/358 pages
Go to your spot.
Where that is comes to mind immediately: a palatial home with soaring windows, or a humble cabin in a glen, a ramshackle treehouse, a window seat, a coffeehouse table, or just a bed with a special blanket. It’s the place where your mind unspools and creativity surges, where you relax, process, and think. It’s the spot where, as in the new book “Nothing Ever Just Disappears” by Diarmuid Hester, you belong.
Clinging “to a spit of land on the south-east coast of England” is Prospect Cottage, where artist and filmmaker Derek Jarman lived until he died of AIDS in 1994. It’s a simple four-room place, but it was important to him. Not long ago, Hester visited Prospect Cottage to “examine the importance of queer places in the history of arts and culture.”
So many “queer spaces” are disappearing. Still, we can talk about those that aren’t.
In his classic book, āMaurice,ā writer E.M. Forster imagined the lives of two men who loved one another but could never be together, and their romantic meeting near a second-floor window. The novel, when finished, “proved too radical even for Forster himself.ā He didn’t “allow” its publication until after he was dead.
“Patriarchal power,” says Hester, largely controlled who was able to occupy certain spots in London at the turn of the last century. Still, “queer suffragettes” there managed to leave their mark: women like Vera Holme, chauffeur to suffragette leader Emmeline Pankhurst; writer Virginia Woolf; newspaperwoman Edith Craig, and others who “made enormous contributions to the cause.”
Josephine Baker grew up in poverty, learning to dance to keep warm, but she had Paris, the city that “made her into a star.” Artist and “transgender icon” Claude Cahun loved Jersey, the place where she worked to “show just how much gender is masquerade.” Writer James Baldwin felt most at home in a small town in France. B-filmmaker Jack Smith embraced New York ā and vice versa. And on a personal journey, Hester mourns his friend, artist Kevin Killian, who lived and died in his beloved San Francisco.
Juxtaposing place and person, “Nothing Ever Just Disappears” features an interesting way of presenting the idea that both are intertwined deeper than it may seem at first glance. The point is made with grace and lyrical prose, in a storyteller’s manner that offers back story and history as author Diarmuid Hester bemoans the loss of “queer spaces.” This is really a lovely, meaningful book ā though readers may argue the points made as they pass through the places included here. Landscapes change with history all the time; don’t modern “queer spaces” count?
That’s a fair question to ask, one that could bring these “hidden” histories full-circle: We often preserve important monuments from history. In memorializing the actions of the queer artists who’ve worked for the future, the places that inspired them are worth enshrining, too.
Reading this book may be the most relaxing, soothing thing you’ll do this month. Try “Nothing Ever Just Disappears” because it really hits the spot.
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Books
Upcoming books offer something for every reader
From a history of the gay right to a look at queer womenās spaces
Daylight Savings Time has arrived, giving you more sunlight in the evening and more time to read. So why not look for these great books this spring?
If your taste runs to historical novels, you’re in luck. When Yorick spots his name on the list of the missing after the Titanic sinks, he believes this to be an omen: nobody’s looking for him, so maybe this is his opportunity to move to Paris and open that bookstore he’s been dreaming about. In “The Titanic Survivors Book Club” by Timothy Schaffert (Doubleday, $29.00) his decision leads to more than a bucolic little business. Out April 2.
If you’re looking for something a little on the lighter side, discover “Riley Weaver Needs a Date to the Gaybutante Ball“ by Jason June (HarperTeen, $19.99). Young adult books are perfect light reading for adults, and this one is full of high-school drama, romance, comedy, and more drama. What fun! Out May 23.
Can’t get enough of graphic novels? Then look for “Escape from St. Hell: A Graphic Novel“ by Lewis Hancox (Graphix, $14.99). It’s the continuing story of Lew, who just wants to live his life as a guy, which he started doing in the last novel (“Welcome to St. Hell”) but you know what they say about one door closing, one door opening. In this new installment, Lew grapples with the changes he’s made and how his friends and family see things, too. This book is fresh and honest and great for someone who’s just transitioned. Out May 7.
For the mystery lover, you can’t go wrong with “Clean Kill: A Nicky Sullivan Mystery“ by Anne Laughlin (Bold Strokes, $18.95). As the manager of a sober living home in Chicago, Nicky Sullivan has her hands full with 10 other residents of the home. But when one of them is murdered, Sullivan reaches back into her past as an investigator to find the killer by calling on her old partner. Fortunately, he’s still working. Also fortunately, he’s got a new partner and she catches Sullivan’s eye. Can love and murder mix? Out May 14.
Can’t get enough of politics? Then you’ll be happy to find “Coming out Republican: A History of the Gay Right“ by Neil J. Young (University of Chicago Press, $30). In the fractious political atmosphere we have now, it’s essential to understand how gay conservatives have influenced politics through the decades. Find this book before November. It may be one of the most eye-opening books you’ll read. Out April 3.
The reader who loves her “space” will want to take “A Place of Our Own: Six Spaces That Shaped Queer Women’s Culture“ by June Thomas (Seal Press, $30) there to read. It’s a book about historically safe places for queer women to be themselves ā and some are surprisingly very public. Interviews with iconic feminists and lesbians round out a great look at the locales that queer women have claimed for their own. Out May 28.
And now the housekeeping: Release dates can change and titles can be altered at the last minute, so check with your favorite bookseller or librarian. They’ll also have more recommendations if you need them because there’s a lot of time for reading now.
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Books
Gay author takes us on his journey to fatherhood in āSafeā
One man’s truth about the frustrations and rewards of fostering
āSafe: A Memoir of Fatherhood, Foster Care, and the Risks We Take for Familyā
By Mark Daley
c.2024, AtriaĀ Books
$28.99/304 pages
The closet is full of miniature hangers.
The mattress bumpers match the drapes and the rug beneath the tiny bed. There’s a rocker for late-night fusses, a tall giraffe in the corner, and wind-up elephants march in a circle over the crib. Now you just need someone to occupy that space and in the new book, “Safe” by Mark Daley, there’s more than one way to accomplish that dream.
Jason was a natural-born father.
Mark Daley knew that when they were dating, when he watched Jason with his nephew, with infants, and the look on Jason’s face when he had one in his arms. As a gay man, Daley never thought much having a family but he knew Jason did ā and so, shortly after their wedding, they began exploring surrogacy and foster-to-adopt programs.
Daley knew how important it was to get the latter right: his mother had a less-than-optimal childhood, and she protected her own children fiercely for it. When Daley came out to her, and to his father, he was instantly supported and that’s what he wanted to give: support and loving comfort to a child in a hard situation.
Or children, as it happened. Just weeks after competing foster parenting classes and after telling the social worker they’d take siblings if there was a need, the prospective dads were offered two small brothers to foster.
It was love at first sight but euphoria was somewhat tempered by courts, laws, and rules. Their social worker warned several times that reunification of the boys with their parents was “Plan A,” but Daley couldn’t imagine it. The parents seemed unreliable; they rarely kept appointments, and they didn’t seem to want to learn better parenting skills. The mother all but ignored the baby, and the child noticed.
So did Daley, but the courts held all the power, and predicting an outcome was impossible.
“All we had was the present,” he said. “If I didn’t stay in it, I was going to lose everything I had.ā So was there a Happily-Ever-After?
Ah, you won’t find an answer to that question here. You’ll need to read “Safe” and wear your heart outside your chest for an hour or so, to find out. Bring tissues.
Bring a sense of humor, too, because author and founder of One Iowa Mark Daley takes readers along on his journey to being someone’s daddy, and he does it with the sweetest open-minded open-heartedness. He’s also Mama Bear here, too, which is just what you want to see, although there can sometimes be a lot of tiresome drama and over-fretting in that.
And yet, this isn’t just a sweet, but angst-riddled, tale of family. If you’re looking to foster, here’s one man’s truth about the frustrations, the stratospheric-highs, and the deep lows. Will your foster experiences be similar? Maybe, but reading this book about it is its own reward.
“Safe” soars and it dives. It plays with your emotions and it wallows in anxiety. If you’re a parent, though, you’ll hang on to every word.
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