Exotic, Erotic, and Objectification

I just finished watching a independent film called Brother to Brother.  It's a 2005 historical fiction movie starring Anthony Mackie about Richard Bruce Nugent.  Nugent was a Harlem Renaissance writer and painter, most famous for his controversial and sexual short story, "Smoke, Lilies and Jade."  The story reads as a kind of stream of consciousness (marked by ellipses) and contains erotic images of a man referred to as "Beauty."  I could go on about the story, but here's a link to the full short story if you're interested: http://www.brucenugent.com/Assets/Text/Smoke.htm.  I actually wrote a little bit about this for my final exam paper for my Harlem Renaissance class this past semester.  My paper was about how the Harlem Renaissance was not "the queerest avant-garde," as one scholar argued.  While this short story certainly provides decidedly queer (explicit homosexual) depictions, my criticism of Nugent's story is that it highly exoticizes and eroticizes homosexuality and particularly the black homosexual body.  The fascinating aspect of "Smoke" is the other gay male is white.  I'm discovering more and more in some of my research that black gay bodies--as distinct entities, without white bodies--are one crucial aspect of scholarship; and/but the inclusion of (gay) white bodies changes the discussion entirely.

In Brother to Brother, the protagonist (not Nugent, but a young gay black male college student who meets and befriends Nugent) engages in a sexual and intimate relationship with a fellow white student.  (This is slightly tangential, but I'm also fascinated by the fact that this white student self-identifies as heterosexual, until he begins this homosexual relationship.  A phenomenon I'm not sure I entirely understand and one that I know exists even in real life--nevertheless, I thought it was treated well in the movie.)  The conflict between the two arises initially when the white student (after hooking up, having sex, or whatever they did--the movie didn't show) leaves the black student's room, seemingly uncomfortable or confused about his recent homosexual encounter.  The second sexual encounter ends with the black student leaving after the white student makes some unintentional, unaware racist remarks.  The white student essentially eroticizes/exoticizes the black student by making sexual comments about his appearance (specifically, his "black lips," "fine black ass," and "soft skin").  In other words, the black student feels objectified as a exotic, sexual object.  In contrast to the previous encounter, race, not sexuality, becomes a catalyst for this particular departure.  I really liked how this film revealed to some extent how race and sexuality together complicate general interactions, particular interracial interactions.

In Marlon Riggs's semi-documentary Tongues Untied, his concluding statement is: "Black men loving black men IS the revolutionary act!"  The documentary portrays the specificity of the gay black male experience, especially in regards to the intersections of race, gender, and sexuality.  The movie also refers to "silence."  This "silence"--which I've also been interested in exploring, from my Harlem Renaissance paper to my 12 Ophelias performance and now to this research project--refers to the silence of black gay men, who are unable to express themselves because of the prejudices of both white and black heterosexual societies, as well as the white gay movement.  In his movie, Riggs includes some his personal stories.  The movie tells about his interactions with gay white and black men.  He has sexual experiences and/or fantasizes about white men, while he shies away from black men; and the "moral," or message, of the movie is that the act of gay black men loving themselves allows them to love other black men.  Riggs's movie suggests that black men loving white men is a result of decades--even centuries--of black subjugation under white culture.

Both movies, as I've outlined, articulate arguments or stories that suggest that interracial homosexual relationships are complicated and not beneficial for the black lovers.  Gay black men are exoticized as erotic, unusual sexual objects.  In this way, interracial homosexual sex becomes an exotic experience for white men, who exploit black men for their "queer" racialized bodies.  The black men then must determine their identities and feelings in relation to the white men/bodies, rather than create their own identities free of racialized and sexualized histories (complicated with white men).  After examining Nugent's story several times, I feel that the erotic story offers a written/literature perspective on the gay black man's feelings toward erotic white men.  Nugent's black character sees the white body as "Beauty," which suggests that the black character is idolizing the white man or placing him on a pedestal.  Personally, I don't feel that my attractions to people are based on race.  I am attracted to people, to personalities; so I do not fear that I am going to be subjugated.  That said, I feel like I'm discovering more and more that my research interests lie in how interracial homosexual relationships are complicated by both race and sexuality.  I have a great book called Queer in Black and White by Stefanie K. Dunning, which seems to talk directly about my interests.  I have yet to crack it open, but I plan to soon!  In the meantime, I will be posting shortly on how LGBT issues are tied to class/socioeconomic issues.

Additionally, you may have noticed that I've limited my use of the word queer.  I created a blog post about the nature and use of this word, and I thought that I was okay with its use.  Having done more research on the word, I have decided that LGBT is a more appropriate term for my purposes.  While I appreciate and admire the idealism/optimism of reclaiming queer as a positive signifier, LGBT has less stigma around its usage, and it is more comfortably used in society and culture.  Queer still resides in scholarly articles and circles; I think most people still feel uncomfortable using the word or have negative emotions/memories stemmed from its pejorative use.


"Are you dreaming what I'm dreaming?  I can't read your mind.  One step towards you, two steps back--feels like I'm crawling, feels like I'm crawling.  If I'm alone in this, I don't think I can face the consequences of falling."
-"The Consequences of Falling," K.D. Lang

Defining Moments: Family Weddings

Hello world,

These past two weekends, I've been with different parts of my family.  Two weekends ago (4th of July weekend), one of my cousins got married: the third of my 15 (total) first cousins to get married.  And I had both a learning experience and an early-life crisis experience.

The two recent Wisconsin weddings have been eye-opening for me.  One cousin's wedding (my second cousin to get married) was last year in August.  I was there for a lot of the last-minute preparations in Wisconsin.  I also did a reading, and it's small-town Wisconsin: everything seems bigger anyway.  Then this most-recent wedding, also in Wisconsin, kind of hit me harder than the other two.  Different from the second wedding, I was not involved at all, and I only went up north for the weekend of the wedding, then I came back to St. Paul to continue the Mellon seminar; I did not see much if any of the wedding chaos.  But this time, I had a (female friend) date.  Although much of my family up north knows that I am gay, not all of them do, namely my grandparents (which will be changing--I plan to be telling them next month, not that it's relevant to this discussion).  So, bringing my female friend, Hannah, was an interesting experience, because I got to experience more fully how people, usually unintentionally, put labels and construct boxes around people and their identities.  Whenever my friend was introduced, it would typically go: "[So-and-so], this is my friend, Hannah."  While the people who I'm out to, and if our language/human interaction weren't so coded sometimes, then that introduction would simply indicate that she and I are just friends.  However, our world is very familiar with connotations, coded language, insinuations, reading between the lines, and so forth.  So, friend becomes girlfriend, friend with benefits, or technically girlfriend, but we're not at the level yet to be using such labels.  Whatever term was "replaced" in people's heads, I could see when it happened.  And to be fair and completely honest, I'm sure that there were times when it wasn't happening, when people were just accepting Hannah and I as simply friends.  Nevertheless, that weekend, with each introduction, I could feel the box being placed around me, relabeling me as heterosexual.  I felt as if I was going back into the closet (not that I was ever really in the closet; I just didn't really know or understand my sexuality).  But I realized two things.  First, the weekend was not about me.  It was about my cousin and his fiance getting married.  Anything to do with my sexuality could be dealt with in August.  I've waited long enough, and another month wasn't going to hurt me.  Second, no matter what, people are going to create ideas or images in their heads regardless of what I do or say.  I do the same.  Categorization or compartmentalization, I think, simplifies things, life; the key is not fixating these categories and allowing them to be fluid and to shift.  Humans are eternally consistent; things grow and change, and so should our categories or labels.  It's also not my business what people think, unless it is actively negatively impacting my life.

On a completely separate note, these two recent weddings have sparked a surprising "early-life crisis" in me.  I'm nearly 21 years old, and I've had no experience yet in dating, which may or may not be a surprise for some of you.  In any case, I feel like I'm getting closer and closer to the "primetime" for marriage and baby-making, but I haven't even had a boyfriend yet.  Last year, my cousin was 23 and was getting married and already had a baby.  This year: that same cousin is having another child in September, one cousin got married (he's 25), one cousin had a baby, one cousin is having a baby in November, and another cousin got engaged.  And I sort of caught the garter that my cousin threw at the wedding (long story on the "sort-of catch"), and this means that I'm next?!  NO WAY!  I'm so not ready to get married.  Regardless of the whole dating thing, marriage isn't even in my five-year plan.  (Yes, I have one; are you really that surprised?)  And yet, I still feel the clock ticking; I still feel an almost larger, social (not familial) pressure to get crackin' on the process.  There also seems to be this fascination (I've fallen for it too) in planning our "dream weddings."  We have our first dance songs picked out, some people make scrapbooks, and some people know exactly when, where, and how.  It seems even more and more, marriage has become this commercialized ritual that we all look forward to and hold on to desperately, and some of us have lost the meaning or the heart behind it.  Two people, in love, making a commitment together--the wedding is supposed to symbolize all of that.  So how can one person plan a wedding, when it's two people getting married?

Furthermore, I need to fight for my right to get married before I can even think about getting married.  Unless I'm fortunate to live some place where gay marriage is legal and recognized.

Don't worry, Mom: I know I have to wait 'til I'm 35 and financially independent before I can start dating. And now for some Queen:

"Can anybody find me somebody to love?
Each morning I get up I die a little
Can barely stand on my feet
Take a look in the mirror and cry
Lord what you're doing to me
I have spent all my years in believing you
But I just can't get no relief, Lord!
Somebody, somebody
Can anybody find me somebody to love?"
-"Somebody to Love," Queen

Defining Moments: West Side Story

Hello world,

One of the reasons I've been so busy is that I saw West Side Story, the National Broadway tour, here in the Twin Cities.  In creating the blog arc/theme of defining moments, I realized that this musical has always been one of my favorites.  I love Sondheim and his music/lyrics, and I love the story (although my brother says, like Romeo and Juliet, the characters are crazy and stupid--love makes us stupid, so there!!), and I love the themes.  I could but I won't critique the actors' performances because that's not what I want to talk about.  Briefly, overall, the acting was good, the chemistry was great, the dancing was spectacular, and the story was still the same: entrancing and important.

If you haven't seen the stage version of West Side Story, you should know that it's a bit different from the movie version.  Yes, the story is still the same and they kept all of the songs in the movie; but the songs are in a different order, and the edited some of the lyrics.  The stage version I saw contained more dialogue and singing in Spanish, and "Somewhere" is not sung initially by Tony and Maria, but rather by Anybodys (the tomboy-ish girl).  I thought I would cry, since it's such a sad story, but instead I found myself being fascinated by performance choices.  Now, I will commence.

First I will address the dialogue, namely the Spanish-speaking.  It was really interesting because I would speculate that most if not all people in the audience had seen the movie.  So, they came to see that on stage (perhaps).  Instead, they get the "more accurate" stage version (I say "more accurate" because the current stage version allowed Arthur Laurent to stage it completely as he wished without influence or changes from other collaborators or directors), which incorporates more Spanish-speaking.  There were some funny lines exchanged in Spanish, but no one was laughing because no one understood.  I thought it was brilliant to have many of the interactions between the Puerto Ricans be in Spanish; it was more dramatically authentic to the characters to speak in their native tongue.  However, then there became an unspoken conflict between the audience and the performance.  I found that, in not knowing Spanish, the audience becomes complicit--or implicated, perhaps--with the American Jets, unwilling to bridge the language and cultural divide.  So the question is then, would the audience, later, make an attempt to understand the Spanish that they didn't understand, or will they assume that what was spoken in Spanish was unimportant to the development and understanding of the story?  Now, I understand that everyone makes a choice (sometimes there is no choice) about what language they choose to learn in grade school, high school, college, etc.  I happened to take Spanish all the way from Kindergarten through my first year at Mac; that gave me the benefit and privilege to understand the dialogue.  Other people who might've chosen to take French, Latin, German, or Mandarin--or maybe others didn't have to take a foreign language class--don't have the benefit that I had during those moments in the Orpheum performance.  Nevertheless, they have the opportunity after the performance to go home and figure out what was said.  Or even if they don't determine what the dialogue was in the show, I think the broader question is, "Are people willing to learn from a different culture, are they willing to ask questions to understand something they don't understand?"  To paraphrase Amy Poehler from her Harvard 2011 graduation address (re: previous post from today), we have a lot to learn from other people.

Another fascinating aspect of West Side Story: Anybodys.  I never realized it before, but she is probably one of the most fascinating characters (in a performative sense) in the musical (Sorry, Tony, Maria, and Anita--don't worry, you'll still be my favorite characters!).  While Tony and Maria defy racial/cultural expectations, Anybodys defies gender expectations.  It's mid-1950s, and Anybodys dresses like a guy and wants to be in a gang.  The tries so hard "to become" one of the guys, and in the end, Action finally congratulates and accepts her as one of the gang, when she provides useful information.  All this stuff appears in the movie and is not new.  However, what was different for me was that it is Anybodys who sings "Somewhere."  The song appears as a kind of dream sequence: the dance is incredibly balletic, the stage was completely white and empty, and all the characters were wearing white or off-white clothes.  Anybodys sings the song, and to me, because Anybodys is singing it, the song increases in meaning.  There will be a place somewhere, someday not only for "atypical" love (Tony and Maria) but also for "ways of living" (Anybodys).  Someday, somewhere, there can be all kinds of "queer" existences: "queer" gender identities and/or transvestism (we don't really know enough about Anybodys to label (tough word) her as a particular sexuality, which is why I leave open the possibility that she's heterosexual and dressing in contemporary men's clothes.

In any event, I've always considered "Somewhere" as a kind of celebration of--or rather, wish for acceptance of--difference, all kinds.  While the movie limited the song as an intimate moment between the two lovers, the staged musical allowed the song to include everyone regardless of identity and difference, tabula rasa style.  And similar to what I mentioned above, if we don't understand the difference, are we willing to ask questions respectfully to break down barriers and bridge divides?  When will we stop asking people to be our Riffs, Bernardos, and Tonys who have to die before the violence ends?

Now, on a happy note:

"I feel pretty, oh so pretty.  I feel pretty and witty and bright.  And I pity any girl who isn't me tonight."
-"I Feel Pretty," West Side Story

Defining Moments: A World, My Childhood

Hello world,

I’m sorry that I’ve been out of touch for so long.  Lots has happened that has kept me busy, and now I have so much to say.  I have even decided that there is so much that instead of writing one long, enormously massive  blog post, I will break it up into different posts based on theme/subject.  This one, since it is most present in my mind, is about the final chapter—the conclusion—to Harry Potter.  I will not say anything about the plot, rather I will talk about my experience both long term and short term.  I saw the movie at midnight this morning.  This was my first midnight show ever, and it felt appropriate that this be my first experience.  For some crazy reason (tickets were sold out at other places, so not that crazy), my friends and I decided to go to Mall of America to watch the movie.  When we arrived at 9:30pm, there was already a nicely sized line—we couldn’t see the front of it, and it was looping around in crazy ways.  Once we sat down, the theater usher who spoke to us (he gave us a speech about turning off electronics and threatening to arrest anyone who he caught recording during the movie) told us that someone had arrived at the mall and had waited in line since 8:45am, Thursday morning!  They had been waiting in line for essentially 9 hours and 15 minutes (I say essentially becuase people were able to get into the theater well before midnight.  I sat down a little before 11:30pm).  This was also the only movie playing in the Mall of America theaters that evening/morning, and I believe there are 14 theaters.  I don't know if they used all of the theaters, certainly at least 6 of them.

My evening with Harry Potter actually started at home, not with dressing up--although I will talk about that later--but with watching the Harvard University 2008 Graduation Speech by J.K. Rowling.  (Link here: http://harvardmagazine.com/2008/06/the-fringe-benefits-failure-the-importance-imagination).  I think it was one of the first times I've ever heard Rowling speak, and she was so incredibly eloquent.  One of my friends wrote a lengthier blog post about it than I will, but she talked about the importance of failure, imagination, and friendships.  I definitely recommend watching it if you have the time.  And especially if you are a Potter nerd like me, you will appreciate all of the Potter references and jokes that she makes.  She's surprisingly quite funny!  Anyway, after watching her address, I watched Amy Poehler's speech to this year's Harvard graduating class, and she talked about defining moments:

"You were young children when you watched planes hit the World Trade Center.  You quickly understood what it was like to feel out of control.  Your formative teenage years were filled with orange alerts and rogue waves and unaccomplished missions.  For my generation, it was AIDS. We all grow up afraid of something. Taking off your shoes at the airport. My generation had to get used to awkward PSAs from boys to men telling us to use protection. But during those tough times, we realized how wonderful it felt to be part of a group."

Harvard gets some great speakers....  JEALOUS!!  Anyway, my point in referencing these two speakers is that I believe (as many others do and have already stated) that Rowling and Harry Potter is a crucial part of our childhood, our formative years, and now even our young adult/adult years.  And I realized something: even though 9/11 happened almost in the middle of the written Harry Potter series--with the movies, the series gets dragged out to 14 years versus the 10 writing years--in some ways, the two are very much intertwined.  Harry Potter is largely about tolerance and acceptance: Muggles (normal, non-wizards/witches), Muggle-born wizards/witches (known pejoratively as "Mudbloods"), werewolves,  giants/giantesses, etc.  I would remiss not to mention Dumbledore's sexuality as obvious site of tolerance.  At first when Rowling "outed" him, I thought, "Well that's pointless and stupid.  What does that do?"  The answer was seemingly "Nothing."  Now, however, I see the wisdom and benefit in Dumbledore's homosexuality; because there truly is "nothing" in his sexuality.  Dumbledore, the old, wise wizard (and professor) who Harry admires and looks up to, is yes, gay, but he is so much more.  His sexuality is purely tangential and irrelevant to Harry's journey.  Dumbledore's presence demonstrates how gay people--including gay teachers, who are the subjects of immense controversy, speculation, and discrimination--can be worthy role models, without sexuality playing a role in interactions.  So, in "nothing," there is so much to learn about tolerance.

And back to 9/11: since 9/11 (well, for much longer, but bear with me), we as a world and particularly as a nation have encountered even more issues with racial tolerance (and many other kinds).  Perhaps it's a stretch, but Rowling's books acted as a kind of "counter" to the racism that surrounded many 9/11 reactions.  I'm sure Rowling did not anticipate this, but nevertheless her books guided us through that time period, also as an escape.  It was an escape before 9/11, but during that troubling and confusing time, Harry Potter made us believe in childhood heroes, in magic, in another world that was different from our own.  And as Amy Poehler said, "it felt [wonderful] to be part of a group."  All of my friends, almost everyone my age, this was something that we could share together no matter where we came from or what our interests were.  If we read, we were reading these books.  People would bring these books to school to read during recess or free periods.  Or some people would wait to read the books at night, under their covers, usually with a flashlight to enhance the reading experience.  Hogwarts, King Cross Station, Hogsmeade, the Quidditch Field: these were places that became familiar to us when we followed Harry and his friends on his journey.  At the movies, people dress up in a full range of intensity and Potter geekdom.  People even bring Potter paraphernalia such as broomsticks (either from home or Potter merchandise) and wands.  One guy had Hedwig on his shoulder; someone dressed as Professor Trelawney.  Some kids started playing Quidditch in the big open space close to the line.  Plenty of people like me didn't dress up, though.  And all of this was being documented by a guy with a video camera, and he was interviewing people too.  All of this seeming madness reminded me of how much Harry Potter--movies, books, characters, the world--affected people.  I would even go so far as to say that it changed some people's lives.  I will always remember Harry Potter as the series that "started" my brother's interest in reading.  (I could be wrong, but this is my memory from seven years old.)

The other thing that my friends and I talked about one night, an aspect of Harry Potter that resonates with me is this: Harry, Ron, and Hermione are average-looking people.  They are not sexy or hot or extraordinarily attractive as most teenage heroes and heroines typically are or become.  Now, the movies did not take note of this aspect of the books, as the characters got older, which is fine--whatever, makes for some great eye candy on the screen.  On the other hand, part of what drew me to the series--perhaps unconsciously as a kid, but now consciously--is that these people I look up to are people who I can associate with more realistically. I'm not the most buff or the sexiest guy on the planet, so who am I going to relate to better: Ryan Reynolds as the Green Lantern, or Harry, Ron, and Hermione?  Furthermore, Hermione (again, more and better-articulated in a friend's blog post) became a nerd who nerds like me look to as a role model.  I'll quote my friend, Hannah:

"Hermione Granger is the best thing to happen to nerdy girls across the globe.  Almost every one of my friends (past and present, male and female) identifies with Hermione.  Hermione Granger made it okay to be a nerd.  (I want to say that Hermione made it great to be a nerd, but there are always those who don't like nerds - and girls.)  She was a role model, but more importantly she was a promise.  While most other nerdy girls in young adult fiction longed to be a part of the popular crowd and changed themselves to get there (of course learning from their mistakes later), Hermione was our guiding light.  Hermione was a promise that nerdy girls could handle the mockery thrown at them, that they would one day find a way to style their hair successfully and that they would have friends and find love.  She showed us that being smart wasn't a bad thing, but more importantly, she taught us the value of our own knowledge and intelligence outside of the classroom as well as in it. Rowling presented us with a fantasy of a nerdy girl, and as we aspired to be Hermione, being a nerdy girl was made that much easier."

All that applies to a nerdy boy like me too.

And even as I write these words, I feel myself wanting to reach back and fall back into that world.  One of my favorite dreams as a child was being a wizard and being with Harry, Ron, and Hermione.  The dream only happened once, but it felt so real, and I kept hoping that it would happen again.  Alas...  Hogwarts has been my home and my world for so many years.  And even though I was kind of tired last night and mentally and emotionally distanced from the movie event, I realize now: this world is complete.  And that terrifies me.  I've been terrified of a lot of things recently, and it seems that I'm afraid to grow up, to be an adult.  Which is somewhat paradoxical, because I've always wanted to be older.  When I was younger, I frequently wanted to sit at the adult table.  Every now and then, I would roll my eyes at my parents, because I was so sure that I knew that I was smarter than them and could make better decisions.  But now, I'm verging on my 21st birthday--a little under 4 months!!--and then there will really be very few age milestones for me.  There will be event milestones--first car, first house, marriage (hopefully), and other exciting things--, but I will be fully an adult in the eyes of the law (just the whole drinking thing, you know) and will only have those thrilling decade birthdays to look forward to.  Harry Potter has always been with me, since 1997 and now it ends (although, arguably it's still happening with the theme park and the new online Pottermore).  It has dominated my childhood, and its conclusion feels like a conclusion to my childhood.  I never thought I'd be Peter Pan, but here I am, I guess, wanting to go to Never Land.  Look on Facebook, and you will see that countless teenagers, young adults, and adolescents are putting up statuses about their childhoods ending.  I'm not alone in this feeling.

But even though it is complete, I know, deep down, Harry and his world will always be there, on a bookshelf or in movie cases, for me to return to.  And as corny as it sounds, Harry is in my heart.  He's been there for a while, growing and solidifying as I matured year after year with him.  I have so many memories surrounding Harry Potter.  They are some of my best memories: sitting in my parents bed with one of them reading the 4th book to me, Harry Potter birthday party, receiving Harry Potter in the mail at camp then staying up late to read it all the way through, competitions with my cousins and friends to see who could read the books the fastest, watching the movies, and now this, the final chapter of the Harry Potter world.  I know I will cherish these memories forever.  When I have my own house/apartment, there will be a place for Harry Potter on my bookshelf.  I know that I will undoubtedly attempt to introduce Harry Potter to my children, but I know that they will never have the same attachment to it that I did, do, and will continue to have with it.

I don't really know how to end this post, since my heart is quite literally overflowing with more and more things to say.  But Harry, Ron, and Hermione--and Dumbledore and Sirius and Dobby and Snape and Neville and you Weasleys--I must say goodbye, for now.  Normally, I just do one line, but for you, I give you a whole song.  To Harry, with love.

"Those school girl days
Of telling tales and biting nails are gone
But in my mind I know
They will still live on and on

But how do you thank someone
Who has taken you
From crayons to perfume?
Oh, it isn't easy but I'll try

If you wanted the sky
I would write across the sky in letters
That would soar a thousand feet high
To sir, with love

The time has come
For closing books and long
Last looks must end

And as I leave, I know that
I am leaving my best friend
A friend who taught me right from wrong
And weak from strong that's a lot to learn

What can I give you in return?
If you wanted the moon
I would try to make a start but I
Would rather you let give my heart
To sir, with love."
-"To Sir, with Love," Lulu, To Sir, with Love