sometimes, the night hums with a certain energy, a palpable thrill. in the city at twilight, a blend of every citizen's essence hangs in the air, a collective fragrance. we venture out, chasing that feeling, that dopamine rush.
some nights have a rhythm all their own, compelling us to move, to dance.
this is the essence of a feeling, a journey of exploration. the narrative, like a seasoned guide, navigates the complexities of human connection, even within the most daring and thought-provoking scenarios, such as sharing intimate moments after a night out.
for those who've experienced the isolation of lockdowns, there might be a sense of both envy and bewilderment at the depicted events.
they are numerous, to say the least, and fueled by a commitment to sensory experiences and a total embrace of life's excesses that is, quite frankly, alluring.
it's a unique journey. we all hold memories of dimly lit bars, often populated by equally intriguing individuals.
despite the makeshift decorations and the ever-present scent of disinfectant, these spaces created a sense of community.
but, as the author asks, was this truly the case? this is a complex question, also marked by generational divides. the author notes that younger generations often embrace gender fluidity and a less rigid sense of community, and frequently don't feel the need to gravitate towards spaces specifically for gay individuals.
historically, these spaces were sometimes marked by racism, misogyny, classism, and exclusion - so, who can blame them for their choices?
it's, as they say, a strange world. and let's not even delve into the topic of history, which younger people seem to think refers only to the latest smartphone models or whether their hookup apps have been updated.
young people, it seems, live in the moment, with little interest in culture or heritage, those concepts the older generation believes they have exclusive ownership of. i hope. it was a little difficult to figure out which side of the fence the author himself was on, but one must be careful with puns in a review of a book about the gay experience.
but then, the author notes that to achieve his goals of living together happily, he needs only to embrace homonormativity.
there's a rainbow for everyone.
vince caparas. i was part of the gay community. that being said, looking back, i can recall a feeling of alienation from my community. i never fully understood why: was i not "white" enough? was i not muscular enough?
was i not casual enough about sex?
was i too analytical? was i not fun enough? the book, "gay bar: why we went out," is presented as a multi-faceted exploration. first, a travelogue of bars the author frequented throughout his life. second, a form of gay cultural critique, more on this later.
it's no surprise that i enjoy works that delve into political and cultural themes.
given the lack of cultural criticism of the gay community from a gay asian male's perspective, the author, who is the product of a biracial marriage, i was excited to begin this non-fiction work, assuming that it would align with my experiences.
after finishing the book, my overall impression is more nuanced than my expectations.
take the subject of race, for example. the author mentions his race only twice, once in a touching vignette about visiting his asian relatives; and again, in a london bar, when a black man enters the scene.
all the venues the author visits are predominantly white.
in a disappointing chapter, the author begins to explore the connection between anti-muslim skinheads, the brexit movement, and gay culture in london. sadly, this thread is not developed; an important conversation is left incomplete.
to many people, the gay bar has meant different things beyond just a place to find a sexual encounter.
the author, however, seems to focus only on the less glamorous side of gay life. how disappointing, and yet, not surprising. furthermore, those born in other cultures may have different views of sex, gender, relationships, and monogamy.
sexual freedom and choice are privileges exercised primarily by those in positions of power.
increasingly, white, cisgender, gay men hold positions of privilege. instead of being a group of friendly outsiders, they are the gatekeepers of gay culture, social norms, and beauty.
it's fascinating material. the book excels as a travelogue. the author's skill at conveying both the literal and social geography of a bar is its strongest point.
it was enjoyable, with genuine moments of interest.
but it never got into the conversation i was hoping for. the author tells his coming-of-age story through the lens of the history of the gay bar.
beginning in san francisco and referencing queer literary icon allen ginsberg, the author later moves to london and explores the scene.
the text combines historical details with descriptions of bars, scenes, and atmospheres, adding references to proust, adorno, and tillmans, all interwoven with the author's personal experiences.
another key argument is that, for the author, gay bars were not safe spaces, and he didn't want them to be - the conversation surrounding this seems to have shifted significantly.
regarding identity, the author emphasizes that gay bars as communal spaces helped individuals find their place and define themselves, which is why it's justifiable to tell the story of the gay bar as an autobiography - a smart concept that makes the book unique.
of course, there is also plenty of gay sex, and it's well-written.
journalists have been noting the closure of gay bars for years. the economic strains of the pandemic certainly contributed to the decline of these venues.
i valued the candid and explicit descriptions of experiences, showing how sex contributes to the author's evolving sense of self as a gay man, and how an open, long-term relationship can work.
his life, sensibilities, and values differ from mine, but i appreciate the skillful consideration of how experiences in gay spaces can positively and negatively shape our gay identities.
read my full review of "gay bar" by jeremy atherton lin. the author grew up in the bay area, went to college in los angeles, and seems to have spent his adulthood in london, three well-known gay metropolises.
new york makes a few appearances. absent are other notable gay cities, such as sydney, tel aviv, berlin, and, dare i say, washington, d.c.?
as others have noted, this is a limited sample, but for many gay people, these are the only cities they live in. the author is a talented writer, as most reviews acknowledge.
he can craft sentences, effortlessly incorporating quotes and references.
he also describes his experiences at gay bars, sharing specific songs, feelings, and moments in a way that makes the reader feel present. despite this, i didn't feel i gained much from the book.
it didn't fully commit to either an interesting personal narrative or a comprehensive history to leave a lasting impression.
the author likely can't help this; it is rare to have a personal history worth sharing, which is all the more reason to focus on telling other people's stories.
i think of "the deviant's war: the homosexual vs. the united states of america" by eric cervini and others that convey important histories in an engaging way. this book lacked the depth to keep me engaged, and our book club's discussion lasted only a few minutes before moving on.
last night, my friend, who invited me to the book club, sent around an article by bryan washington, which discusses his experiences in gay bars in a more episodic, anecdotal way.
these topics may be more suited for an article and might not support a whole book, but i felt i gained more from this article than from the author's entire book.
washington describes building a gay community in less metropolitan areas, whereas the author spends time in blackpool in the united kingdom, but the book primarily focuses on the gay meccas.
he discusses gay community in a way that the author either intentionally or accidentally glosses over.
the author's focus is on sexual encounters, shocking sights and smells, and dynamics; washington talks about the miracle of queer spaces, where queer people together are greater than the sum of their parts, where we find each other through sex or substance abuse or niche cultural interests and from these unlikely origins create family.
for all of the author's warnings about apps, there's no replacing this lifegiving aspect of being queer, or the gay bar's role in facilitating these queer communities.
i read this personal narrative on the author's relationship with gay bars. they represented a space for being seen, being anonymous, having fun, frolicking, loving, and showing pride in who he is and the gay community.
as a teacher who uses non-fiction texts, i plan to use excerpts from "the stonewall reader," which contains essays and personal narratives describing activists' experiences of oppression, the liberation of being openly gay, and the challenges they face in expressing their love, including other members of the lgbtq+ community.
i loved the author's narrative.
it read as a long ethnography of the gay bar as a place of escape and a place to find love, sex, or even friendship. the text laments that gay bars are disappearing because of the current generation's reliance on gay apps and the diminishing act of going out, putting yourself out there, being bold and vulnerable.
"maybe there isn't a term for a sense of loss when you don't know what you're missing," the author writes. despite this, the author writes about the glamorous and the tawdriness of gay life that is also haunted by aids and hiv, and the ghosts of those who died from aids.
there is also the observation that many gay spaces tend to be frequented by white, gay men who become hypocritical when they exclude communities of color who are black, asian, or latinx, or show hostility towards women.
lin notes that "as long as humans survive, there will be social spaces that contain hierarchies negotiated in terms of power and exclusion." this includes not only gay establishments but also gay apps.
"identity is articulated through the places we occupy, but both are constantly changing," he says.
the author has written six books and has 92 followers. i'm of two minds here. on the one hand, it was fun joining the author on his past hangouts. i'm familiar with many of those in san francisco and enjoyed revisiting them.
on the other hand, i found him to be, to use an outdated phrase, "too cool for school." i thought the book was overwritten, and that he was impressed with himself.
perhaps that's the kind of person who writes a book like this. there were literary conceits that seemed unnecessary.
why is his partner, whose identity isn't hidden in the acknowledgments, called "famous blue raincoat, famous" for short? why not just "jamie?" the author has clearly thought a lot about himself in these spaces, which is part of a memoir's point, and by extension, how all gay people might experience gay bars, but it also reads as self-involved at times.
i agree with other reviewers who were disappointed by the lack of a social historical overview of the development of gay bars and their decline with apps and online dating.
there were snippets of history, but not in an organized way.
perhaps the publisher's description was misleading, which may not be the author's fault. i read "gay bar: why we went out" by jeremy atherton lin on audio, through my library. the author narrates the audiobook, which heightens the experience.
through jeremy's encounters and those of his friends, lovers, and acquaintances, we see the seemingly ephemeral gay bar.
the gay bar as a place for people to gather and express themselves, as a location of queer history—both where it occurs and where it is passed on.
i found jeremy atherton lin's writing to be vivid, and "gay bar" made me nostalgic for experiences i haven't had. side note: "gay bar" has amazing book covers.
i love them both! it's primarily a book about gay men and their lives since the pre-aids era.
i remember visiting my first gay bar. i remember trembling with anticipation and fear. i remember stepping inside and feeling the beat of the music vibrating on my skin, and the energy of the people around me vibrate in my soul.
i remember feeling like suddenly, i knew where i belonged.
it's difficult to watch as the spaces that provided my community a safe haven close. this book asks the question: what are we losing? it also asks all the questions in between. while exploring his past through stories of gay bars, pubs, and clubs he's visited, lin magically takes us along with him, evoking nostalgia, lust, and excitement.
while describing his experiences, i reflected on my own.
it makes you wonder how many shared experiences gay men have of their times in these spaces. i loved the idea of this book. i loved all the thought-provoking questions and musings lin offered, as well as reading his stories.
it all worked, and i think any gay man of a certain age will enjoy the trip down memory lane.
if you're not of a certain age, this is a great way to step into the mind of a generation of gay men that came before, are still here, and have many nights out ahead of them!
jeremy atherton lin's "gay bar: why we went out" is an interesting combination of sociology and personal memoir focused on gay bars.
did you go to bars or pubs frequently before the pandemic? did you frequent them when you were younger? at different points in my life, i enjoyed hanging out with friends at bars.
in "gay bar: why we went out," lin traces the history of the gay bar, from truly secret places where discovery could be deadly to places where joy could reign freely, even for a few hours, from places where people gathered to mourn to spots that have their own places in their neighborhoods.
lin also touches on his experiences at gay bars in his life, mainly in los angeles, london, and san francisco, with a few others mentioned sporadically.
however, i felt the book struggled with what it wanted to be. was it a memoir or social commentary?
i did enjoy and appreciate the gay and social history aspects of this book, and learned a lot from those sections, which were nicely documented with footnotes.
gabon: estuaire: libreville. "who's online in libreville." "who's visiting libreville."
find libreville gay dance parties and other libreville gay pride events using fridae agenda. no events.
libreville news.
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south korea court upholds ban on gay sex in the military. japan's top court says trans sterilization requirement unconstitutional.
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