Books
‘Two Dogs’ will delight readers of all ages
Kids will relish the antics and repartee of Perry and Augie
‘Two Dogs’
Written and illustrated by Ian Falconer
c. 2022, Michael di Capua/Harper Collins
$18.99/40 pages
Ages 4-8
Temperatures are soaring. No one’s using their inside voice. We’re going to the dogs! But thankfully, not just any dogs.
In “Two Dogs,” his newest picture book, gay writer, illustrator, and theater designer Ian Falconer gives us Perry and Augie, the most fun pooches you’d ever hope to meet. If these pups don’t make you smile, see an orthopedist ASAP because your funny bone is broken.
As is often the case with great children’s books writers and illustrators, such as Maurice Sendak, Falconer’s work is enjoyed not only by kids, but adults.
Grandparents, parents, uncles, aunts, and college students as well as kids have been captivated by Olivia, the clever, assertive, charming pig, who hams it up in a series of Falconer’s acclaimed children’s books.
From her debut in 2000 in Falconer’s Caldecott-Medal-winning “Olivia,” the fab pig Olivia has been a diva for the ages. Rendered in wonderful black and white (with a touch of red) drawings, she has been adored by everyone from preschoolers to the late Hilary Knight, illustrator of “Eloise at the Plaza.” “Eloise has met her match! We love Olivia!” Knight said of the porcine star.Olivia deserves the diva-worship. She doesn’t live in a luxury hotel or have a nanny. She has a dad, mom, and siblings. There’s no room service for them.
Yet Olivia lives quite the life. She’s one of a kind. It’s hard to think of any other pig who has photos of Eleanor Roosevelt and Martha Graham in her bedroom. Olivia’s been a fairy princess and traveled to Venice. On a vacation, she saves the day when circus performers are sick. “Luckily I knew how to do everything,” she says. (Dame Edna Everage does a fab reading of the Olivia books in the “Olivia Audio Collection.”)
You might wonder if any creature, no matter how winsome, could avoid being overshadowed by Olivia. But you needn’t fear. Perry and Augie have no trouble taking center stage. Their energy and charisma, unleashed, bounce off the page.
Augie and Perry are two witty dachshunds. The wiener dogs have a classic beauty. “Indeed, they look like little Roman emperors,” Falconer writes.
The drawings in “Two Dogs” are hilarious — in vivid, bright colors. You feel as if you’re right there with Augie and Perry as they complain about how bored they are when their humans are at work and school, or, after breaking the lock on the door, run around on the grass outside.
Augie and Perry are good friends with opposite, but complementary, temperaments.
Perry throws caution to the wind: he’s a mischief-maker. Augie is cautious, but clever. “Most of the time Augie looked more serious,” Falconer writes, “Perry was all over the place.”
Augie and Perry are just pooches at play, but they’re operatic creatures. In one scene, Perry takes away Augie’s ball. As any dog would know, “The ball,” as Falconer writes, “was very important to Augie.”
But Augie is no fool. In a move that Maria Callas or Barbra Streisand would admire, Augie bangs away on the black keys of a piano. Falconer’s drawing makes Augie’s music look as terrifying as it is to Perry. “PLEASE, AUGIE, NOT THE PIANO!” Perry pleads.
Augie and Perry bark at squirrels, roll around in raccoon poop and find a hole to dig in. Falconer is so good at evoking the pleasures of dachshunds that you might wonder if, maybe, he was a dog in a previous life.
Along with writing award-winning kids books, Falconer, born in 1959, has designed sets and costumes for operas and ballets. He’s created covers for “The New Yorker” (his Halloween and Valentine’s Day covers are among his best).
You may question if it’s necessary to mention that Falconer’s gay. Here’s why it’s worth noting: because until recently, due to homophobia, most queer children’s book writers couldn’t come out.
The antics and repartee of Perry and Augie will delight readers from 4 to 104. Be warned: your copy will be dog-eared.
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Books
Thom Gunn bio explores joys, complexities of modern gay life
‘A Cool Queer Life’ presents author’s humanity, poetic genius
‘Thom Gunn: A Cool Queer Life’
By Michael Nott
c.2024, Farrar, Straus and Giroux
$40/720 pages
A confession: Until reading “Thom Gunn: A Cool Queer Life,” I hadn’t known much about the accomplished, controversial gay poet’s life or read many of his poems. But this first biography makes me feel like I know him and his large body of work intimately. Michael Nott, coeditor of “The Letters of Thom Gunn,” draws on interviews with friends and family, as well as Gunn’s letters, notebooks, and diaries, to tell the triumphs and tragedies of his life.
Born in England in 1929 to journalist parents, when he was 15, he and his younger brother Ander found their mother dead from suicide. He would not discuss this tragic event in his poetry for years, including one of his last poems “My Mother’s Pride.” He published his first book of poems, “Fighting Terms,” while still an undergraduate at Cambridge University.
At Cambridge, Gunn met his life-long partner, Mike Kitay, an American studying theater. Gunn followed Kitay to America, studying poetry under Yvor Winters at Stanford University. At one point, Kitay, doing his military service, was investigated as part of suspicion of homosexuality among his unit. Gunn wrote to friends of his worry both of what might happen to Kitay as well as to himself. While nothing happened, the event reminds us of the precarious state in which gay men lived until recently.
Eventually, they settled in San Francisco, which Gunn loved. Even when he became worldwide famous, he enjoyed the anonymity of the city’s gay bars, where he could pick up men. He taught at UC Berkeley for 40 years, one term every year so he could concentrate on his poetry. His and Kitay’s home was filled with friends and sex partners, usually of Gunn. This arrangement seems common for many gay men of the time, reminiscent of Dan Savage’s idea of “monogamish,” where committed gay couples might have other side partners.
In San Francisco, Gunn discovered leather and drugs, both of which he took to readily. He caused a stir by appearing in his British publisher’s conservative club in leather gear. Toward the end of his life, he became a crystal meth addict, frequently using with other addicts whom he also slept with. In 2004, his housemates found him dead from substance abuse.
He explored leather, drugs, and gay sexuality frequently in his poems. His collection “Moly” (named after the drug in The Odyssey protecting from the witch Circe’s magic), looked at the appeal and downfall of drugs. The Man with Night Sweats, perhaps his most famous collection, dealt with the AIDS epidemic, the painful death of so many friends and lovers. He won the MacArthur Foundation “Genius” grant afterwards.
The biography presents Gunn in all his humanity, from his poetic genius to his insecurities. After each book came out, he struggled with writer’s block, which led to hookups and drug use. As he aged, he worried about finding “gerontophiles” who would sleep with him. I hope this book encourages readers to discover or revisit his work, filled with the joys and complexities of modern gay life.
Books
A rabid fan’s look at the best and worst of queer TV
‘Rainbow Age of Television’ a must-read for viewers
‘The Rainbow Age of Television: An Opinionated History of Queer TV’
By Shayna Maci Warner
c.2024, Abrams Press
$28/304 pages
Wanna hand over the clicker?
You don’t want to miss the season premiere of that show you binge-watched over the summer. You’re invested, a fan who can’t wait to see what happens next. You heard that this may be the last season and you’ll be sad, if that’s so. Is it time to start looking for another, newer obsession or will you want to read “The Rainbow Age of Television” by Shayna Maci Warner, and find something old?
Like most kids of the ’70s, ’80s, and ’90s, Shayna Maci Warner spent lots of time glued to a television screen, devouring programming before school, after school, and all summer long. For Warner, that programming eventually led to a revelation. They saw people that looked like them, for which they formed “a personal attachment.”
It was “life-changing.”
It didn’t happen all at once, and some of TV’s “milestones” are forever lost, since broadcasts were live until the 1950s. Shortly after shows were taped and preserved, homosexuality became a “source of worry and blunt fascination” but certain performers carefully presented gently risqué characters and dialogue that nudged and winked at viewers.
Some queer representation appeared in the 1960s, but it wasn’t until the 1970s when dramas began to feature more gay and lesbian characters, however subtly. It took a while for “the ‘rest’ of the alphabet” to be represented in a meaningful way and – despite that “Star Trek” and its many versions included gender-diverse characters – it wasn’t until 1996 that an intersex infant was featured on a regular television drama.
Since Ellen DeGeneres came out practically on her namesake TV show and “Will & Grace” became a wild hit, queer representation on TV has ceased to be an unusual thing. And yet, programmers and writers know that caution is still warranted: sometimes, “there can still be hesitation around pushing the envelope and fear that a queer character who burns too brightly just won’t last.”
Quick: name three after-school TV shows that aired when you were in fourth grade. If you can’t do it, one thing’s for certain: you need “The Rainbow Age of Television.”
But get ready for some argument. Author Shayna Maci Warner offers a rabid fan’s look at the best and the worst queer representation had to offer, and you may beg to differ with what they say about various programs. That makes this book a critique, of sorts, but Warner offers plenty of wiggle-room for argument.
Tussling over the finer points of queer programming, though, is only half the fun of reading this book. Microwave a box of pizza snacks or mac-and-cheese, demand “your” sofa seat, and dive into the nostalgia of old TV shows, most of them from the later last century. Yep, your faves are here. It’s like having an oldies channel on paper, and in your hand.
This is a must-have for former kids and current TV addicts who are happy to see themselves represented on TV. If that’s you, who brought the chips? “The Rainbow Age of Television” will just click.
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Books
Author rails against racism and desire, politics, loss
‘Rage’ explores being ‘Queer, Black, Brilliant’
“Rage: On Being Queer, Black, Brilliant… and Completely Over It”
By Lester Fabian Brathwaite
c.2024, Tiny Reparations Books
$28/288 pages
Somewhere up in the clouds.
That’s where your blood pressure is, right there as high as it’s ever been. Hoo, boy, are you angry. Your teeth are clenched, your eyes are slits, and you can’t trust yourself to speak in more than a growl. You’re plenty steamed and, as in the new book “Rage” by Lester Fabian Brathwaite, it shouldn’t have to be this way.
When he came with his family to America from Guyana at just four years old, Brathwaite couldn’t believe what his new home country offered. Malls, new kinds of food, cable television? Shirtless white men on TV and in magazines? Yes, please!
He’s always had crushes on white men, but he loves being a gay Black man – even though racism, overt and subtle, can be an aggravation. When Brathwaite is on a dating app, white men sometimes dismiss him with a racial comment. He’s heard and seen the “n-word” more than once and he doesn’t tolerate it. Wouldn’t a greeting and a no thanks be less rude?
He is bothered by unnecessary meanness.
He is bothered in a different way by bodybuilding. Hot, muscular bodies, to be exact and he’s sure that whoever created the sport was a genius. Brathwaite participates in bodybuilding himself sometimes – it’s expensive and he does it for himself, not for other men – though he believes that gay men are bodybuilding’s biggest subset. For sure, he’s payed homage to his share of bodybuilders, superheroes in movies, and hot shirtless boys on TV.
There were many times, years ago, that Brathwaite ended up drunk and in a stranger’s bed or looking for an old hook-up, and he was arrested once. Nearing 30, though, he realized that that life wasn’t what he wanted anymore. His knees couldn’t take it. Besides, he liked who he was and he liked his blackness. He realized that he didn’t need anyone else to be a hero of his tale. He could do it better himself.
One thing’s for certain: “Rage” lives up to its title.
At times, author Lester Fabian Brathwaite rails against so many things: racism and desire, club society, being a writer and editor, the generational differences between gay men, politics, and loss. At other times, he’s outRAGEous and hilarious, writing to readers as though he’s holding court in a cafe somewhere and you’d better listen up.
You should know that that means honesty – poking in the corners, calling things out for what they are, chastising people who need schooling on how to behave in a way that doesn’t leave room for nonsense. This arrives unabashed and raw, accompanied by plenty of profanity.
You’ve been warned.
And yet, Brathwaite’s candor and his blunt talk is fresh and different. This gay man doesn’t pussy-foot around, and getting his opinions without fluff feels good and right. Readers will appreciate that, and they might come away educated.
Generally speaking, this ain’t your Grandma’s book, unless Grandma likes real talk laced with profanity. If that’s so, then get “Rage.” You’ll both be mad for it.
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