Connect with us

Books

Few books are timelier than ‘Woman’

A rite of passage for generations of LGBTQ folk

Published

on

(Book cover image courtesy of Yale University Press)

Woman: The American History of an Idea
By Lillian Faderman
c.2022, Yale University Press
$32.50/571 pages

Until, I read “Woman: The American History of an Idea,” the fascinating new book by Lillian Faderman, the groundbreaking LGBTQ feminist scholar, I didn’t know that women who were hoboes felt more free during the Depression.

“For thousands of women, the Depression was oddly liberating,” Faderman, professor emerita at California State University, Fresno, writes. “They were poor and footloose, and they found a fresh way to snub conventions about how a woman ought to live.”

That’s just one of the many things that I learned from “Woman.”

I had no clue that housewives and mothers — June Cleaver, Harriet Nelson and Donna Reed — weren’t the only images of women on 1950s TV. Who knew that, as Faderman writes, “television offered up a few surprising counterimages?”

In the 1950s, women’s roller derby matches were on TV. “Reportedly 70 percent of the viewers were female,” she writes, “attracted perhaps by the bracingly bold image of woman as polar opposite to what she was supposed to be.”

“Woman” makes it clear that America has been freaked out by women having sex outside of procreation in a hetero marriage since the Puritans arrived here in the 1600s. 

“It’s “sex o’clock in America,” declared William Marion Reedy, a newspaper editor, in 1913. He worried that sex was everywhere – from theaters to the movies. “He opined that the purity of woman was being maligned,” Faderman writes.

“Woman” is a comprehensive history of the concept of woman in this country from the days of the Puritans to our #MeToo, gender fluid, non-binary era.

Few books are timelier than “Woman.”

In this age of Amy Coney Barrett,” when the future of Roe v. Wade is shaky, there is much to be learned from “Woman.”

“Woman” doesn’t  tell us how we can overcome the  backlash against feminism and civil rights movements (from Black civil rights to LGBTQ rights). No book, no matter how comprehensive could do that.

But “Woman“ gives us knowledge and perspective.

The belief that a woman’s role is to marry and have children didn’t begin with Phyllis Schlafly, the lawyer who led the campaign against the Equal Rights Amendment.

In the 1600s, the Europeans who came to America believed that women’s place was in the home. In 1645, Faderman reports, Massachusetts Bay colony governor John Winthrop lamented in his journal that Edward Hopkins, governor of the Connecticut colony, had let his wife who had borne him no children, stray from “the place where God had set her.” He’d allowed her to “give her herself wholly to reading and writing,” Winthrop wrote.

There have been advances in and backlashes against feminism as the idea of woman has changed throughout American history.

Take World War II. During the War, Rosie the Riveter encouraged women to work. When the war ended, women were exhorted to change from their work clothes into aprons and return to their kitchens at home ASAP.

Too often, indigenous women, women of color, working class and immigrant women have been (and still are) excluded by white feminists from feminism and women’s history.

Thankfully, “Woman” goes a long way toward breaking this pattern of exclusion. 

Faderman writes of the cruelties inflicted on enslaved women by plantation owners, Asian-American feminist leaders, the racism of many white suffragettes and of how white people forced indigenous women to relinquish their culture.

Faderman, 81, who is white, writes movingly about her experience as a Hollenbeck Junior High School student in East Los Angeles. She was, Faderman writes, the daughter of an immigrant, “an unwed Jewish woman from Eastern Europe who made a living sewing dresses in a downtown LA garment factory.”

She felt a connection with her Mexican-American classmates, many of them, like herself, daughters of immigrants. In response to the “stifling mores” of their parents, many of them “engaged in petty out-lawry,” Faderman writes.

“I too was a juvenile delinquent of sorts,” Faderman, who is a lesbian, writes, “because I had already discovered my outlaw sexuality and would soon be going to gay-girls bars, flashing a fake ID that said I was an adult.”

I have two quibbles with “Woman.” Throughout American history, disabled women have lived with sexism and ableism. I wish  “Woman” had included disabled women in its mosaic of women’s history.

I would have liked to have seen in “Woman” more about what’s happening now with gender and its impact on America’s idea of women. But perhaps, Generation Z and its historians will be best able to speak to this.

Faderman’s books from “Surpassing the Love of Men” to “Harvey Milk: His Lives and Death” are touchstones for the LGBTQ community. “Woman,” too, will be a rite of passage for generations of LGBTQ folk. 

Advertisement
FUND LGBTQ JOURNALISM
SIGN UP FOR E-BLAST

Books

New books reveal style trends for a more enlightened century

Guidelines that hint about gendering clothing are out

Published

on

Books about Fashion and Style
By various authors
c.2026, various publishers
$19.95 – $29.95

Don’t look now, but your legs are showing.

It’s OK, it’s almost summertime and you want to show both skin and style. So how about a few hints for looking your best? Check out these great books and get stylin’.

Who says there are rules about fashion? Wearing white before Memorial Day is OK; socks with sandals not so much? Fine, but in “Bending the Rules: Fashion Beyond the Binary” by Camille Benda with Gwyn Conaway (Princeton Architectural Press, $29.95), you’ll see that any guidelines that hint about gendering clothing are oh-so-last century.
Along with lively, fun narrative, there are lots of photos in this book, ads for how clothing used to be worn along male-female lines, and short biographies of some of today’s best designers. Here, you can check out prom dresses from the 1950s and new haute couture gowns practically right off the runway – and see how one parallels with the other. The timeline reaches back centuries, so you get a nice idea of where certain kinds of clothing originated and how it’s relevant today – making what’s inside here perfect for browsing.

Pick up this book, in fact, and you might also pick up some ideas for filling your closet and creating your very own style.

The fashion you wear on your body isn’t all you’ll find in “Pretend to Be Fancy: A Field Guide to Style and Sophistication” by Whitney Marston Pierce (Chronicle Books, $19.95). You’ll also read about other nice things you can have.

So you’re not a pinky-in-the-air kind of person, whatever. You can easily hang with those who are, once you read and absorb this book.

Tongue-tied at fancy soirees? Not anymore, there are tips for talking here. What do you know about canapes, hors d’oeuvres, and the kind of foods you don’t get at the corner c-store? How do you make a charcuterie that everyone will Ooooooh over? And how do you give a gift for the person whose taste seems scads better than yours? That’s all in here, along with what to drink, how to dress, and how to make every corner of your home look like something right out of a high-end magazine.

Will this book make you chic? Possibly, yes. Will it help you get invited to all the best parties? Maybe, but for sure, it’ll make you laugh, it’ll make you feel fabulous, look fabulous, and live your best life with the surroundings you deserve. Out May 5, so put it on your list.

But let’s say you need more ideas. You have questions or thorny issues with fashion that you really need answering. That’s when you ask for a talented fashionista at your local bookstore or library, that knowledgeable someone knows books and knows how to get what you need to be your most dazzling, best-dressed, finest-appointed self in a home you can be proud of, with comfortable furniture that will be the envy of everyone who sees it.

In the meantime, grab the above titles, because these books got legs.

Continue Reading

Books

Susan Lucci on love, loss, and ‘All My Children’

New book chronicles life of iconic soap star

Published

on

(Book cover image courtesy of Blackstone Publishing)

‘La Lucci’
By Susan Lucci with Laura Morton
c.2026, Blackstone Publishing
$29.99/196 pages

They’re among the world’s greatest love stories.

You know them well: Marc Antony and Cleopatra. Abelard and Heloise. Phoebe and Langley. Cliff and Nina. Jesse and Angie, Opal and Palmer, Palmer and Daisy, Tad and Dixie. Now read “La Lucci” by Susan Lucci, with Laura Morton, and you might also think of Susan and Helmut.

When she was a very small girl, Susan Lucci loved to perform. Also when she was young, she learned that words have power. She vowed to use them for good for the rest of her life.

Her parents, she says, were supportive and her family, loving. Because of her Italian heritage, she was “ethnic looking” but Lucci’s mother was careful to point out dark-haired beauties on TV and elsewhere, giving Lucci a foundation of confidence.

That’s just one of the things for which Lucci says she’s grateful. In fact, she says, “Prayers of gratitude are how I begin and end each day.”

She is particularly grateful for becoming a mother to her two adult children, and to the doctors who saved her son’s life when he was a newborn.

Lucci writes about gratitude for her long career. She was a keystone character on TV’s “All My Children,” and she learned a lot from older actors on the show, and from Agnes Nixon, the creator of it. She says she still keeps in touch with many of her former costars.

She is thankful for her mother’s caretakers, who stepped in when dementia struck. Grateful for more doctors, who did heart-saving work when Lucci had a clogged artery. Grateful for friends, opportunities, life, grandchildren, and a career that continues.

And she’s grateful for the love she shared with her husband, Helmut Huber, who died nearly four years ago. Grateful for the chance to grieve, to heal, and to continue.

And yet, she says of her husband: “He was never timid, but I know he was afraid at the end, and that kills me down to my soul.”

“It’s been 15 years since Erica Kane and I parted ways,” says author Susan Lucci (with Laura Morton), and she says that people still approach her to confirm or deny rumors of the show’s resurrection. There’s still no answer to that here (sorry, fans), but what you’ll find inside “La Lucci” is still exceptionally generous.

If this book were just filled with stories, you’d like it just fine. If it was only about Lucci’s faith and her gratitude – words that happen to appear very frequently here – you’d still like reading it. But Lucci tells her stories of family, children and “All My Children,” while also offering help to couples who’ve endured miscarriage, women who’ve had heart problems, and widow(ers) who are spinning and need the kindness of someone who’s lived loss, too.

These are the other things you’ll find in “La Lucci,” in a voice you’ll hear in your head, if you spent your lunch hours glued to the TV back in the day. It’s a comfortable, fun read for fans. It’s a story you’ll love.

The Blade may receive commissions from qualifying purchases made via this post.

Continue Reading

Books

Risking it all for love during World War II

New book follows story of Black, gay expat in Paris

Published

on

(Book cover image courtesy Viking)

‘The Remarkable Life of Reed Peggram’
By Ethelene Whitmire
c.2026, Viking
$30/308 pages

You couldn’t escape it.

When you fell in love, that was it: you were there for good. Leaving your amour’s side was unthinkable, turning away was impossible. You’d do anything for that person you loved – even, as in the new biography, “The Remarkable Life of Reed Peggram” by Ethelene Whitmire, you’d escape toward danger.

On Aug. 28, 1938, Reed Peggram boarded a ship from Hoboken, N.J., hoping to “become a proper gentleman” and fulfill his dreams. A prolific writer and Harvard scholar of comparative literature, he’d recently been awarded the Rosenwald Fellowship, which put him in the company of literary stars like Du Bois, Hurston, and Hughes.

Both Peggram’s mother and grandmother were then domestic workers, and they had big expectations for him. Reed himself was eager to study abroad, for professional and personal reasons; he was “determined to become a French professor and an accomplished linguist” and “He also hoped to find love.”

What better place to do it than in Paris?

Outgoing and confident, Peggram made friends easily and had no trouble moving “through the world of his white male peers.” Where he faltered was in his lack of funds. He relied on the kindness of his many friends – one of whom introduced Peggram to a “man who would become so pivotal in his life,” a Danish man named Arne.

Peggram and Arne had a lot in common, and they began to enmesh their lives and dreams of living in the United States. But there were complications: homosexuality was largely forbidden, World War II was in its early stages, and it quickly became apparent that it was dangerous to stay in Europe.

And yet, Peggram loved Arne. He refused to leave without him and so, while most visiting Black Americans fled the war in Europe, “Reed was trying to stay.”

There’s so much more to the story inside “The Remarkable Life of Reed Peggram,” so much to know about Reed himself. Problem is, it’s a long haul to get to the good stuff.

In her introduction, author Ethelene Whitmire explains how she came to this tale and yes, it needs telling but probably not with the staggering number of inconsequential details here. Peggram moved homes a lot, and many people were involved in keeping him in Europe. That alone can be overwhelming; add the fact that costs and other monetary issues are mentioned in what seems like nearly every page, and you may wonder if you’ll ever find the reason for the book’s subtitle.

It’s there, nearly halfway through the book, which is when the tale takes a tender, urgent turn — albeit one with determination, rashness, and a dash of faux nonchalance. Also, if you’re expecting an unhappily-ever-after because, after all, it’s a World War II tale, don’t assume anything.

Reading this book will take a certain amount of patience, so skip it if you don’t have that fortitude. If you’re OK with minuscule details and want a heart-pounder, though, “The Remarkable Life of Reed Peggram” might be a good escape.

The Blade may receive commissions from qualifying purchases made via this post.

Continue Reading

Popular