F
Faggot
This
contemptuous slang term for male homosexual carries overtones of effeminacy and
cowardice. Inasmuch as its use is widespread and its origins usually
misunderstood, it deserves careful consideration.
One of the most persistent myths that have gained a foothold in the gay
movement is the belief that "faggot" derives from the basic meaning
of "bundle of sticks used to light a fire," with the historical
commentary that when witches were burned at the stake, "only presumed male
homosexuals were considered low enough to help kindle the fires."
The English word has in fact three forms: faggot, attested by the Oxford English
Dictionary from circa 1300; fadge,
attested
from 1588; and faggald,
which the
Dictionary of the Older
Scottish Tongue first records from 1375. The first and second forms have
the additional meaning "fat, slovenly woman" which according to the English Dialect Dictionary survived into the
nineteenth century in the folk speech of England.
The homosexual sense of the term, unknown in England itself, appears for the
first time in America in a vocabulary of criminal slang printed in Portland,
Oregon in 1914, with the example "All the fagots (sissies) will be dressed
in drag at the ball tonight." The apocopated (clipped) form fag then arose by virtue of the tendency of American
colloquial speech to create words of one syllable; the first quotation is from
the book by Neis Anderson, The
Hobo (1923):
"Fairies or Fags are men or boys who exploit sex for profit." The
short form thus also has no connection with British fag as attested from the nineteenth century (for example, in
the novel Tom Brown's
Schooldays) in the sense of "public school boy who performs
menial tasks for an upperclassman."
In American slang faggot/fag
usurped
the semantic role of bugger in British usage, with its connotations of extreme
hostility and contempt bordering on death wishes. In more recent decades it has
become the term of abuse par excellence in the mouths of heterosexuals, often
just as an insult aimed at another male's alleged want of masculinity or
courage, rather than implying a sexual role or orientation.
The ultimate origin of the word is a Germanic term represented by the Norwegian
dialect words fagg,
"bundle,
heap," alongside bagge,
"obese,
clumsy creature" (chiefly of animals). From the latter are derived such
Romance words as French bagasse
and ltalian
bagascia,
"prostitute,"
whence the parallel derivative bagascione
whose
meaning matches that of American English faggot/fag, while Catalan bagassejar signifies to faggot, "to frequent the
company of loose women."
The final proof that faggot
cannot
have originated in the burning of witches at the stake is that in English law
both witchcraft and buggery were punishable by hanging, and that in the reign
of the homosexual monarch James I the execution of heretics came to an end, so
that by the time American English gave the word its new meaning there cannot
have been in the popular mind even the faintest remnant of the complex of ideas
credited to the term in the contemporary myth. It is purely and simply an
Americanism of the twentieth century.
Given the fact that the term faggot cannot refer to burning at the stake, why
does the myth continue to enjoy popularity in the gay movement? On the
conscious level it serves as a device with which to attack the medieval church,
by extension Christianity in toto, and finally all authority. On another level,
it may linger as a "myth of origins," a kind of collective
masochistic ritual that willingly identifies the homosexual as victim. It
should be evident that the word faggot and the ideas that have been mistakenly
associated with it serve no useful function; the sooner both are abandoned,
the better.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
Warren Johansson, "The Etymology of the Word Faggot," Gay Books Bulletin, 6 (1981), 16-18, 33.
Warzen Johansson
Fairy
The word fairy, derived from the French feerie, the name of the mythical
realm of these supernatural beings, was one of the commonest terms for the male
homosexual in America in the 1925-1960 period. In an article published in American Journal of Psychology in 1896, "The
Fairies" of New York are mentioned as a secret organization whose members
attended coffee-klatsches; dressed in aprons and knitted, gossiped and crocheted;
and held balls in which men adopted ladies' evening dress. The spellings faery and fary
also
appear in the literature. The word designated the more stereotypical or
"obvious" sort of street homosexual, with the semantic link supplied
by the notion of the delicate and fastidious that had attached itself to the
expression, so that it was transferred effortlessly to a dainty and effeminate
type of male. The image of the "fairy" in book illustration as a
winged creature flitting about the landscape probably contributed to the
further evolution of flit
as a
slang term for homosexual. The semantic development of fairyin this sense began on the east coast and spread to the
rest of the country, but not to other English-speaking areas of the world. In
the 1960s the word yielded to gay as a positive term preferred by the movement,
and to faggot or fag as the vulgar term of
abuse.
In the late 1970s a quasi-religious movement began on the west coast of the
United States under the rubric of fairy spirituality. Inspired by the ideas of
gay pioneer Harry Hay, this trend emphasized the concept that male homosexuals
who will acknowledge their difference ("fairies" or
"faeries") have special insights and gifts for interpersonal
relations. It looked to the supposed homoerotic element in shamanism as a
prehistoric archetype. Fairy retreats held at remote country sites, with
neopagan rituals, serve to affirm solidarity among the fairies. This movement,
combining counterculture survivals with elements of the hermetic tradition, is
part of a larger complex of New Age religious phenomena that are characteristic
of the western United States, though they also enjoy some following elsewhere.
Falla, Manuel de (1876-1946)
Spanish
composer. Falla ranks as a key figure in both the renovation of Spanish
classical music and the flowering of Andalusian culture in the early twentieth
century. His homosexuality is not known directly, but the circles in which he
moved in both Paris and Granada, his friendships, style of life, and enthusiasm
for the Andalusian past, enthusiasm which was frequently associated in Spain
with homosexuality, permit it to be inferred.
Falla was born in the ancient Andalusian city of Cadiz. As his compositions
were received with indifference in Madrid, in 1907Falla moved to Paris, where
he was successful. He left that city at the outbreak of World War I, and
influenced by his librettist Gregorio Martinez Sierra, author of Granada, gula emocional (1911), made his home in
Granada from 1919 to 1939.
Andalusian civilization was already of considerable interest to Falla; Granada was the setting of
his opera La vida breve
(Life is
Short; 1904-05), and his very successful Nights in the Gardens of Spain (1916) is an evocation of
the vanished sensual and erotic world of Islamic Spain. He was the key figure
in the effort to conserve, through a festival and competition in 1922, the
dying cante
jondo song of Andalusia's past.
The festival, for reasons which are not public, marks a turning point in
Falla's work, which became progressively less Andalusian and more Catholic in
inspiration. His Retablo
de maese Pedro (Master Peter Puppet's
Show; 1923), based on an episode from Don
Quixote, and the Harpsichord
Concerto (1927), both masterpieces, were the last major compositions
he would complete. He declined to set to music a one-act libretto, El calesero (The Coachman), written
for him by Federico García Lo rea, although, strongly urged
by friends, he did set Góngora's "Sonnet to Córdoba" - Córdoba was the capital of Andalusia at its peak - to music for the
tercentenary of that author in 1927.
In 1927 Falla began a composition ideologically opposed to his
Andalusian-themed works, an operatic setting of Verdaguer's epic poem L'Atlántida. In it, Catalonia and
Falla's native Cádiz are fulfilled through the discovery of America by Columbus.
Falla
never
completed his Atlántida,
which was
completed after his death by his only student, Ernesto Halff ter. It has been
indifferently received.
Falla
was
disturbed and depressed by the anti-Catholic violence of Spain of the early
1930s. Isolated and silent during the Civil War, in 1939 he fled to Argentina,
where he died.
BIBLIOGRAPHY, f. B. Trend, Manuel
de Falla and Spanish Music, New York: Knopf, 1934.
Daniel Eisenberg
Famous Homosexuals, Lists of
It seems
that every disadvantaged social group has a need to find distinguished
individuals of the past with whom it can identify. This need is nowhere more
clearly illustrated than in the case of the homosexual minority in modern
society. Even in the era when sexual activity between members of the same sex
was branded as a "crime against nature," then-conduct was extenuated
by the fact that figures celebrated in the annals of war, politics, and
literature had loved their own sex.
In "l'Amour nommé Socratique," an
article in his Dictionnaire
philosophique (1764), Voltaire gives one of the earliest of such lists,
based largely on his knowledge of Greco-Roman pederasty. The anonymous author
of Don Leon (ca. 1836) has the poet
Byron say:
When young Alexis claimed a
Virgil's sigh,He told the world his
choice; and may not I?...
Say, why, when great Epaminondas
died,
Was Cephidorus buried by his side? Or why should Plutarch with eulogiums cite
That chieftain's love for young catamite,
And we be forced his doctrine to decry,
Or drink the bitter cup of infamy?.. Look, how infected with this rank disease
Were those who held St. Peter's holy keys,...
How many captains, famed for deeds of arms,
Have found their solace in a minion's arms!
The first serious attempt to draw up a list of notable homosexuals of past
centuries was in the second volume of Heinrich Hoessli's Eros: Die Mannerliebe der Griechen (1838). Later in the
nineteenth century other lists were assembled by KarlHeinrich Ulrichs and by
the British writers Henry Spencer Ashbee, Sir Richard Burton, and Havelock
Ellis. An entire volume entitled Berühmte
Homosexuelle (Famous Homosexuals) was compiled in 1910 by the pioneer
student of homosexuality, the Berlin physician Albert Moll. No fewer than 300
names appear in Magnus Hirschfeld's major work synthesizing almost two decades
of research, Die Homosexualität
des Mannes und des Weibes (1914). The early phase of the postwar homophile movement
produced a 751-page roster in Noel I. Garde's Jonathan to Gide (1954), which is, however,
the high-water mark for the uncritical use of sources (such as including
Pontius Pilate, the Roman prefect of Judea, on the basis of a passing mention
in a novel published in 1932!). The most recent specimen of this class of
literature is Martin Greif's often fanciful The Gay Book of Names (1982).
The need for such writings is motivated by the insult and humiliation heaped
upon the homosexual minority by those who defame it. The ability to identify
with glorious and universally admired figures in history gives the member of
the oppressed minority role models conveying a sense of inner worth. The
homosexual attains the conviction that he belongs to a part of mankind with its
own achievements, its own traditions, and its own right to a "place in
the sun." The tendency can become so marked as to invite parody, as
amusingly executed by James Joyce for the counterpart among the Irish in Ulysses (1922). Paradoxically,
some homophobes still revere noted figures in the past of their own nation
despite the unanimous testimony of impartial biographers to their
homosexuality. The phenomenon is comparable to that of anti-Semites who admire
Spinoza and Einstein.
Historians of homosexual behavior have found that the method of accumulating
famous names has a number of inadequacies. It tends to assimilate different
types - exclusive homosexuals and bisexuals, pederasts and androphiles - under
one rubric, neglecting the historical ambiance of the individual's orientation.
Rarely is there a concern with the nexus between homosexual behavior and interests,
on the one hand, and creativity, on the other. Use of evidence is often slipshod,
and famous persons are included whose homosexuality is doubtful - even
unlikely. Finally, focusing on a small constellation of politicians, writers,
and artists obscures the life experience of the great mass of ordinary homosexuals
and lesbians. Because of these drawbacks, books containing such lists are now
regarded as belonging to the realm of popular culture rather than to that of
scholarship.
The term eponym refers to a person from whom something, as a tribe, place or
activity, takes its name. In this way proper names become common nouns
designating any practitioner of the activity in question, such as onanist
(from the Biblical Onan), sapphist
(from
Sappho of Lesbos), sadist
(from
Donatien-Alphonse-Francois, Marquis de Sade), andmasoc/u'st (from Leopold von
Sacher-Masoch), along with such jocular expressions as a Tilden (from the tennis star) and
Wildeman (from Oscar Wilde).
Similarly, French has the verbs socratiser
and engider, both meaning "to
sodomize." The latter is a nonce coinage createdby the novelist
Louis-Ferdinand Celine from the name (Andre) Gide. One writer of the early
twentieth century commented that to name sexual practices after living persons
who embodied them was to invite actions for libel, but it constitutes a
fascinating intersection between biography and social labeling.
Warren Johansson
Fantasies
Fantasies
are mental scenes, produced by the imagination, distinct from the reality in
which the person lives. This article concerns those of sexual content.
Everyone fantasizes to a considerable extent; thinking and fantasy are
inseparable. Every time one sets a goal, makes a plan, or considers the
desirability of a course of action, one fantasizes. One of the ways in which
human beings differ from animals is that animals, to our knowledge, do not
have fantasies.
The use of fantasies to produce and enhance sexual excitement is common.
Fantasies may contain activities one would like to do or repeat: sex with a
highly desirable partner or partners, or under exciting circumstances. These
are unproblematic as long as the fantasizer accepts that there are things one
would like to do which are impossible or impractical to realize, and takes
steps toward the realization of appropriate fantasies. The prospect of
realizing sexual fantasies is one of the great stimuli of human activity.
Potentially more stressful are fantasies of activities one might not or
definitely would not like to do. These involve every sort of situation depicted
in pornography, among them the infliction or suffering of pain, violence, or
humiliation; promiscuous or anonymous sex; unfaithfulness to a partner; the
exposure of the body to harm,- and activities which do not conform to one's
sexual orientation (gay or straight). Such erotic fantasies are potentially in
conflict with one's self-image, and may cause worry and guilt.
If fantasies cause great distress, the assistance of a competent therapist may
be helpful. That such fantasies are very widespread, however, suggests that
their existence is normal and even healthy; we all have within us atavistic
capacities, such as that to inflict pain, which cannot be expressed directly in
a civilized society. Fantasies can help discharge tensions rather than increase
them. A fantasy does not produce action against one's principles or true
wishes. Furthermore, fantasies need not be revealed to anyone, although sharing
them can be an exciting part of love-making. Lovers with fantasies that dovetail
(the dominant with the submissive, for example) are truly blessed, although
this is far less frequent than pornography would suggest. The commercial sex
industry [pornography, prostitution, phone sex) is primarily devoted to
providing fantasies.
Daniel Eisenbeig
Fascism
The term
fascism derives from fasces,
the
bundles of rods carried by the lictors of ancient Rome to symbolize the unity
of classes in the Republic. Fascism is the authoritarian movement that arose in
Italy in the wake of World War I. Although Hitler admired its founder Mussolini
and imitated him at first - the term Führer is modeled on Duce - one cannot
simply equate his more radical National Socialist movement with the Italian
phenomenon, as writers of the left are prone to do. "Fascism " was
also applied to related trends in eastern Europe, the Iberian peninsula, and
Latin America. Some of these regimes (especially the Horthy dictatorship in
Hungary and the Falange in Spain) had pronounced clerical-traditional
overtones, which set them apart from the more secularist regimes of Italy and
Germany. Whether all these political trends constitute so many variants of a
single genus of fascism, or whether they are only loosely connected, is still
earnestly debated by historians.
Italy. Not essentially racist
like Nazism or anti-bourgeois like Marxism, Italian fascism, with its
corporative binding of workers and employers, has been less consistently
hostile to homosexuals. Attracting adherents from anarchism and syndicalism,
both of which had been strong in Italy, Benito Mussolini (1883-1945) deserted
pacifist, gradualist socialism to found fascism after his exhilarating wartime
experience of violence. He henceforth extolled war as purifying, progressive,
and evolutionary because the strong overcame the weak. He also argued in a
discussion of a draft penal code in 1930 that because Italians, being virile,
were not homosexuals, Italy needed no law banning homosexual acts, which he believed
only degenerate foreigners to practice. A ban would only frighten such tourists
away, and Italy needed the money they spent to improve its balance of payments
and shore up its sagging economy. Napoleon had promulgated his code, which did
not penalize homosexual acts between consenting adults, in northern Italy in
1810, and thus decriminalized sodomy. It had already been decriminalized in
Tuscany by Grand Duke Leopold, the enlightened brother of Joseph II. The
Albertine Code of 1837 for Piedmont-Sardinia was extended to all its dominions
after the House of Savoy created a united Kingdom of Italy, a task completed in
1870. Pervasive was the influence of the jurist Marquis Cesare Beccaria, who
argued against cruel and unusual punishments and against all offenses
motivated by religious superstition and fanaticism.
Thus Italy with its age-old "Mediterranean homosexuality" in which
women were protected, almost secluded - upper-class girls at least in the South
being accompanied in public by dueñas - had like other Latin countries allowed female
prostitution and closed its eyes to homosexuality. As such it had become the
playground par excellence during the "grand tour" of the English milords, and also the refuge of
exiles and emigres from the criminal sanctions of the Anglo-American common
law and the Prussian code. The Prussian Code was extended in 1871-72 to the
North and then South German territories incorporated in the Reich, including
ones where the Code Napoleon had prevailed in the early part of the century.
Byron and John Addington Symonds took refuge in Italy, as William Beckford did
in Portugal and Oscar Wilde in Paris. Friedrich Alfred Krupp's playground was
in Capri, Thomas Mann's in Venice, and Count Adelswárd Fersen's also in Capri.
II Duce's rise to power did not end Italy's welcoming role. Although he emphasized
the virility of Italians and the decadence of foreigners and decried homosexuality
as a sign of weakness, Mussolini regarded homosexuals either in the old
clerical fashion as sodomites given over to vice or in the ancient Roman
fashion as effeminates - but not as a threat to the virility of the race.
(Personally, Mussolini was somewhat of a sexual acrobat, in that he had a
succession of mistresses and often took time out in the office to have sex with
one or another of his secretaries.) Like Napoleon HI under the French Second
Empire, he preferred to leave same-sex conduct outside the criminal code in
order to avoid sensational trials that would expose his nation to ridicule in
the foreign press. Rather he decided to exile homosexuals to remote areas of
Italy where they would provoke no scandal. Believing in military strength
through numbers, Mussolini did more than Hitler to subsidize parents of
numerous progeny, thus hoping to increase Italy's population from 40 to 60
million. Although local authorities occasionally conducted raids on gay
cruising areas and the like, before 1938 he did not persecute homosexuals more
than previous regimes had done.
However, after he formed the Rome-Berlin Axis with Hitler in 1936, Mussolini
began, under Nazi influence, to persecute homosexuals and to promulgate
anti-Semitic decrees in 1938 and 1939, though these were laxly enforced, and
permitted exceptions, such as veterans of World War I. New laws were passed penalizing
"offenses against race and the provisions for education of the youth of
the Regime." After 1938 homosexuals thus were considered political
offenders. Oppressing homosexuals more than Jews, Mussolini's regime rounded
up and imprisoned a substantial number, a procedure poignantly depicted in
Ettore Scola's excellent film A
Special Day (1977).
Fascists whose homosexual behavior embarrassed the regime were usually only
dismissed from their posts. Notorious : homosexuals without influence were
punished merely with short jail sentences. Political opponents received longer
sentences. Following established Italian fascist practice, homosexuals were
sent into exile {confino)
in remote
places (generally islands) where they eked out a meagre existence. The actual
enforcement of the laws, and in particular mass roundups of suspected
homosexuals, were left to local authorities. But the bulk of Italians in town
and country continued under fascism, as they had previously, the occasional
homosexual practices for which Italy had been so famed. Even exclusive homosexuals,
if they were not unlucky, survived fascism unscathed.
Eastern Europe. In Eastern Europe
"clerical fascism" overthrew all the democratic regimes established
in the wake of the Allied victory and the Paris Peace Conference of 1919, as
well as those carved from the territory of the Russian Empire. The only
exception was Czechoslovakia. With the encouragement of the clergy and support
from the peasantry, gentry, army, and professional and business classes,
Admiral Horthy seized control of Hungary from the Communist Béla Kun in 1920 and as
"Regent" unleashed a "White Terror" largely directed
against Jews, two years before Mussolini marched on Rome with his blackshirts.
One by one the other democracies fell. In Poland the tolerant Marshall
Pifsudski, who dominated Poland after seizing Russian and Lithuanian
territory, actually decriminalized sodomy when a uniform penal code [Kodeks karny) was adopted for the whole
of Poland in 1932. (This perhaps hearkened back to the days of the Grand Duchy
of Warsaw when Poles lived under the Code Napoleon, or perhaps to the thwarted
project to introduce the Code into "Congress Poland" after 1815.)
By contrast, most of the dictators of East Central Europe simply perpetuated
the old clerical strictures; by allying with the Catholic or Orthodox Church
they stiffened reactionary opposition to liberalization, just as they
encouraged traditional Christian hatred of Jews. In this unfavorable climate
none of these countries could develop a sexual reform movement of any
significance.
Naturally amid such ethnic diversity and various dates of introduction of the
Code Napoléon,
differences
in sexual expression were vast, and even within one country no consistent
pattern existed. Fascists were less consistent and more divided among
themselves than even Communists or Nazis. After all, they had no sacred text
like Das Kapital or Mein Kampf, and further were not
ruling only a single powerful country. Many were nevertheless influenced by
Hitler, himself perhaps in part inspired by his totalitarian rival Stalin's
homophobic repression in Soviet Russia beginning in January 1934. Being hostile
to classical liberalism with its emphasis on toleration and the rule of law,
fascism made homosexuals uneasy. However, it may be doubted whether they
suffered more during the 1920s and 1930s in the fascist countries (not counting
Nazi Germany) than in France and the Anglo-Saxon democracies, where premature
attempts to found gay movements were suppressed by police action with no
outcry whatsoever from the defenders of civil liberties. Czechoslovakia, the
only democracy in Central Europe to survive this period, simply continued the
Austrian penal code of 1852 that penalized both male and female homosexuality.
Spain and the Falange. The middle-class, ascetic,
deeply Catholic Franco, who overthrew the Spanish Republic in the Civil War of
1936-39, established one of the harshest of the fascist regimes, executing
many of the defeated republicans and jailing others under brutal conditions.
The great homosexual poet Federico Garcia Lorca was shot by a death squad near Granada in 1936; it is said
that they fired the bullets through his backside to "make the punishment
fit the crime." On the other hand, the Falange theoretician José Antonio Primo de Rivera, who was killed by
the left at the beginning of the Civil War, was widely believed to be
homosexual. Even Franco himself, rumor has alleged, had an occasional f ling
during his service in Morocco.
More than Mussolini, Franco resisted the theories and pressures of Hitler, whom
he regarded as a despicable (and perhaps deranged) upstart. It has been argued
that Franco was not a fascist at all and that he actually maintained a
pro-Jewish policy, granting asylum to refugees from Nazi-occupied Europe and
attempting to protect Sephardic Jews in the Balkan countries. In his last
years he in fact liberalized Spain to a certain extent, allowing among other
things a resurgence of gay bars, baths, and culture even before the accession
of King Juan Carlos upon his death in 1975. Today Spain is one of the freest
countries in Europe.
Latin America. Juan Peron in Argentina
and other dictators in Latin America mouthed fascist doctrines without even
the consistency of Mussolini's Eastern European imitators. Naturally Latins,
like Slavs, being considered inferior peoples by Hitler, did not in general
espouse racism (Hitler had to make the Japanese honorary Aryans to ally with
them in the Tripartite Pact of 1937), so they had no reason to think of
homosexuals in his terms. Rather, they looked upon them with amused contempt,
in the vein of Latin machismo. This machismo reinforced clerical prejudice to
keep social intolerance the rule in Latin America. As Peron was gaining power
in 1943-44, there was some repression, perhaps instigated by the military, but
after he consolidated his rule in 1947 there was little.
Conclusion. On the whole, fascism was
too tradition-minded and lacking in innovative will to formulate a coherent
policy regarding such a "modern" phenomenon as homosexuality. The
twentieth-century demand of homosexuals for justice and equality, the
homosexual emancipation movement, which was heralded in Germany as early as
1864, and was first organized by Magnus Hirschfeld in 1897, elicited a violent
and reactionary response from National Socialism and to a lesser extent from
the other great totalitarian movement, Stalin's Communism. However, in
countries where homosexual emancipation did not exist (and no need was felt for
it in states that had adopted the Code Napoleon), a campaign of repression
simply had no motive in the ideology of the rightist regimes that dominated
much of the interwar period.
See also Holocaust; Nationalism.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
Giovanni Dall'Orto, "Le ragioni di una persecuzione," in: Martin
Sherman, Bent (Italian trans.), Turin: Edizioni Gruppo Abele, 1984, pp.
101-19; idem, "Per il bene della razza al confino il pederasta," Babilonia (April and May 1986);
Walter Laqueur, fascism: A Reader's Guide: Analyses, Interpretations, Bibliography,
Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1976.
William A. Percy
Fascist Perversion, Belief in
Fascism
and National Socialism (Nazism) were originally distinct political systems, but
their eventual international ties (the "Rome-Berlin axis") led to the
use of "fascist" as an umbrella term by Communist writers anxious to
avoid the implication that "National Socialism" was a type of
socialism. Neither in Italy nor in Spain did the right-authoritarian political
movements have a homosexual component. Rather it was in Weimar Germany that
the right-wing paramilitary groups which constituted the nucleus of the later
National Socialist German Workers Party (NSDAP) attracted a considerable number
of homosexuals whose erotic leanings overlapped with the male bonding of the
party. This strong male bonding, in the later judgment of their own leaders,
gave the Nazis a crucial advantage in their victory over the rival Social
Democratic and Communist formations in the early 1930s.
The most celebrated of the homosexuals in the Nazi Party of the 1920s was
Ernst Rohm, whose sexual proclivities were openly denounced by left-wing
propagandists, but this did not deprive him of Hitler's confidence until the
putsch of June 30, 1934, in which he and many of his homosexual comrades in
arms were massacred. Ironically enough it was said that with Rohm the last
socialist in the NSDAP died. For Communist writers as early as the mid-1920s
homosexuality was an element of "bourgeois decadence," or of le vice allemand (the German vice), and
theorists such as Wilhelm Reich who were opposed to homosexuality could claim
that the right-wingyouth were "becoming more homosexual." The victory
of National Socialism at the beginning of 1933 then reinforced Communist and emigré propagandists in their
resort to "fascist perversion" as a rhetorical device with which
they could abuse and vilify the regime that had defeated and exiled them - and
which they hoped would be transient and unstable.
In particular, the statute by which Stalin restored the criminal sanctions
against homosexuality that had been omitted from the penal codes of 1922 and
1926 was officially titled the "Law of March 7, 1934" - a pointed
allusion to the anniversary of the National Socialist consolidation of power
one year earlier. Maxim Gorky is even supposed to have said "Destroy the
homosexuals and with them destroy fascism!" During his exile in the Soviet
Union, the leftist German director Gustav von Wangenheim (1895-1975) made a
film entitled Bortsy
(The
Fighters; 1936), in which the Nazis are shown as homosexual. The reaction of
the Hitler regime to all this was to enact a new and more stringent version of
the notorious Paragraph 175 in the legal novella of June 28,1935. Under its
provisions the number of convictions for homosexual activity rose to many times
what it had been at the end of the Weimar Republic.
While the subject of homosexuality was still largely taboo in the British and
American press during World War II, allusions to the theme of "fascist
perversion" are found in denunciations of Nazi Germany, and occasional
echoes of the belief recur in left-wing propaganda of the recent decades. In
the United States Maoists charged that the gay liberation movement of 1969 and
the years following was an example of "bourgeois decadence" that
would vanish once the triumph of socialism was achieved. Communist and Catholic
organizations in coalitions of the American left have even formed ad hoc
alliances for the purpose of excluding "gay rights" from the common
program of the umbrella group or of keeping gay speakers off the platform at
major rallies. The belief in homosexuality as a "fascist perversion"
is one of the Stalinist myths of the 1930s that are belied by the historical
facts but still kept alive by uncritical writings on the subject and by
artistic treatments such as Luchino Visconti's film The Damned (1970).
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
Samuel Igra, Germany's National Vice, London: Quality Press,
1945; John Lauritsen and David Thorstad, The Early Homosexual
Rights Movement (1864-1935), New York: Times Change Press, 1974, pp. 43-45.
Warren Johansson
Fassbinder, Rainer Werner (1945-1982)
West
German filmmaker, author, director, and actor. With his "anti-theatre"
troupe in Munich Fassbinder set out to redefine the aesthetic experience on
stage. His search quickly brought him (along with the members of this troupe
who would often serve as his actors) to film. From his first films in 1969 to
his forty-third in 1982, he explored the intricate connections between love
and manipulation while also charting his vision of the path of German history
(especially the periods of the Third Reich and the growth of a West German
society he felt to be economically affluent but spiritually impoverished).
Often castigated as someone who expressed a solely subjective view, Fassbinder
openly made use of a variety of sources - his own love affairs, Hollywood
films, works from German literature - which he then filtered into his own
entwinement of the personal and the public spheres. A relatively static camera
(especially in his early films), mirrors and frames, layers of sound, a
heightened sense of melodrama - these are all elements of a cinematic style
which Fassbinder employs in order to speak for those who have been denied a
voice.
Those films where homosexual relationships form the main theme clearly
demonstrate Fassbinder's concern and his techniques. The Bitter Tears of Petra von
Kant (1972),
Pox and His Friends (1975), and In a Year with Thirteen Moons (1978) all deal with
same-sex relationships in which erotic desire becomes a function of the
struggle for dominance of one partner over the other. His films of two literary
masterpieces, Berlin
Alexanderplatz (1980), a television mini-series, and Querelle (based on a novel of Jean Genet;
1982), explore intense homoerotic relationships between men as well as openly
homosexual ones.
Yet Fassbinder, himself homosexual, shows that the failure of the relationships
he depicts to survive or even to nurture does not stem from the nature of
homosexuality itself. Rather, he makes evident that such love cannot succeed in
this society under conditions where human beings have lost their ability to
form any relationship except one based on objectification and exploitation.
In the end, though, what Fassbinder presented is not an analysis of the
futility of love, be it homosexual or heterosexual in nature. By portraying
the precarious existence of relationships between love and manipulation and by
using the fates of individual characters to portray the path of German history
and its influence in shaping everyday existences, Fassbinder's films open the
possibility for change.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
Ronald Hayman, Fassbinder: Film Maker, New York: Simon and
Schuster, 1984; Robert Katz, Life Is Colder Than Death: The Life and Times of Rainer
Werner Fassbinder, New York: Random House, 1987; Tony Rayns, ed., Fassbinder, 2nd ed., London: British
Film Institute, 1979 (1st ed., 1976); Rainer Werner Passbinder (Reihe Filmbuch), Munich:
Carl Hanser Verlag, 1983.
James W.
Jones
Fellatio
See Oral Sex.
Ferenczi, Sandor (1873-1933)
Hungarian
psychoanalyst. Bom to a Jewish family in Miskolc in northeastern Hungary, he
grew up in his father's bookstore and lending library. He studied medicine at
the University of Vienna, graduating in 1894. Ferenczi met Sigmund Freud for
the first time in 1907. He underwent analysis with Freud, and the two passed
many summers together. Ferenczi became a central figure in the psychoanalytic
movement and the founder of psychoanalysis in Hungary, where he played much
the same role as did Karl Abraham in Berlin. He translated many of Freud's
writings into Hungarian, and under the short-lived Communist regime of Bela Kun
he was appointed professor of psychoanalysis at the University of Budapest.
Major Contributions. Ferenczi's reputation was
established by his Uber
die Entwicklungsstufen des Wirklichkeitssinnes (On the Stages in the
Development of the Sense of Reality), in which he described the feeling of
infantile omnipotence. His second major book, Thalassa:
Versuch einer Genitaltheorie (Thalassa, an Essay on the Theory of Genitality) he began
to write in 1914 and published in 1924. In it he described the "Thalassal
regression," and for the first time used the word bioanalysis. During the same period
Ferenczi developed a more active form of psychoanalytic technique, in which
directives to the patient were used to provoke increasing tension that would
mobilize unconscious material and overcome the patient'sresistances. He urged
active interference, role playing, and free expression of love and affection
for the patient. While critical of some of his innovations, Freud could later
say that Ferenczi "has made us all his pupils."
With Freud's British disciple, Ernest Jones, Ferenczi had an unhappy and
ambivalent relationship. Jones underwent a training analysis with Ferenczi in
the summer and autumn of 1913, but later composed a negative account of his
analyst's last years, saying that an "unhappy deterioration of his
mind" had set in and that he suffered from a "very deep layer of
mental disturbance." Those who knew Ferenczi at the close of life dismiss
Jones' allegations as mythical.
Pubhcations on Homosexuahty.
Ferenczi's
contribution to the study of homosexuahty took the form of two papers, an
early one in Hungarian on "Homosexualitas feminina," published in Gyögyäszat in 1902, and a German
article of 1914 entitled "Über die Nosologie der männlichen
Homosexualität" (On the Nosology of Male Homosexuality), first delivered
at a psychoanalytic congress in 1911. The first article described a lesbian
transvestite named Roza K. who because of her sexual interests and manner of
dressing had been rejected by her family and was in frequent conflict with the
police. She led a pitiable existence of wandering between a charitable
institution, a prison, a shelter for the homeless, and a psychiatric hospital.
Ferenczi saw her as posing two problems: a clinical one and a political one; he
proposed that "communal hospices" be created where homosexual persons
could find sufficient freedom to work if they chose, and at the same time
arefuge from the hostility which they encountered in the outside world. The
patient exhibited numerous masculine traits, but also, in his view, stigmata of
degeneration, in particular a repellent ugliness. He concluded that the
abnormality of her sexual drive was nature's infallible way of inhibiting her
reproductive activity.
In the latter article Ferenczi expounded the difference between subject and
object homoeroticism, that is to say, he rejected the notion that
"homosexuality" was a single clinical entity. The "active"
homosexual feels himself a man in every respect, is as a rule very energetic
and aggressive, and nothing effeminate can be discovered in his physical or
mental type. The object of his sexual drive is his own sex, so that he is a
homoerotic through transfer of the love object. The "passive"
homosexual, whom Ferenczi styles "inverted," alone exhibits the
reversal of the normal secondary and tertiary sexual characteristics. In
intercourse with men, and in all relations of life, he feels himself a woman
and thus is inverted in respect of his own ego, so that he is a homoerotic
through subject inversion. The first type, the object homoerotic, is almost exclusively
interested in young, delicate boys with a feminine appearance, yet feels pronounced
antipathy to the adult woman. The second, the subject homoerotic, feels
attracted to more mature, powerful men, but can relate to women on terms of
equality. The true invert, said Ferenczi, is seldom impelled to seek
psychoanalytic advice; he accepts the passive role completely, and has no wish
other than to be left alone and allowed to pursue the kind of gratification
that suits him. The object homoerotic, on the other hand, suffers acute
dysphoria, is tormented by the consciousness of his abnormality, never satisfied
by his sexual activity, plagued by qualms of conscience, and overestimates the
object of his desires as well. It is he who seeks analytic help for his
problems, and also is promiscuous because of repeated disappointment with his
love object. Subject and object homoeroticism, concluded Ferenczi, are
different conditions; the former is a developmental anomaly, a true
"sexual intermediate stage," while the second is suffering from an
obsessional neurosis.
Besides these articles, in April 1906 Ferenczi presented to the Budapest
Medical Association a paper entitled "Sexualis âtmeneti
fokozatokrôl" (On Sexual Intermediate Stages), which was his report, as a
neuro-psychiatrist, on the 1905 volume of the Jahibuch fur sexuelle Zwischenstufen which the
Scientific-Humanitarian Committee in Berlin had sent to the Association, asking
it to take a stand against the penal sanctions to which homosexuals were subjected.
In the report, published in Gyôgyâszat
the same
year, Ferenczi fully endorsed the position of Hirschfeld and his supporters,
saying: "I consider the repression of the homosexuals profoundly unjust
and utterly useless, and I think that we should give our firm support to the
petition drafted by the Scientific-Humanitarian Committee and signed, since
the beginning of 1905, by some 2800 German physicians." Thus Ferenczi was
one of those who even at the turn of the century spoke out against the archaic
penal statutes and in favor of legal and social toleration.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
Judith Dupont,
éd., The
Clinical Diary of Sandor Ferenczi, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1988; Sandor
Ferenczi, "The Nosology of Male Homosexuality," in The Problem of
Homosexuahty in Modern Society, Hendrik M. Ruitenbeek, éd., New York: E. P. Dutton,
1963, pp. 3-16; Claude Lorin, éd., Le jeune Ferenczi: Premiers écrits 1899-1906, Paris: Aubier Montaigne, 1983; Claude Sabourin, Perenzci: Paladin et Grand Vizir secret, Paris: Editions Universitaires, 1985.
Warren Johansson
Fetishism
A fetish
is an object or, in fact, any focal point which has come to stir irrational
reverence or obsessive devotion. A sexual fetish, unlike a mere preference,
usually amounts to an exclusive demand, in that full arousal cannot occur in
the absence of the fetish - be it a black shoe, a particular piece of
underwear, or some partner-attribute such as perhaps broad shoulders, narrow or
broad hips, large breasts in women or a large penis in men, an extreme presence
or absence of fat, an abundance or absence of body hair, and the like.
Fetishistic demands usually stem from an early, particularly pleasurable
experience, although it can perhaps never be precisely determined how one
person's pleasurable experience is transformed into a lifelong fetishistic
requirement, while a similar event for someone else may hardly stand out as
exceptional, let alone as an ongoing fetish. And yet the basic mechanisms of
strong preference-formations are
known.
The pre-adolescent male's sexual response tends to be extremely diverse
(polymorphous) and easily triggered by virtually any exciting event - anything
from fast rides, big fires, and loud noises to being called on in class, seeing
animals in coitus, or imagining close bodily contact with other children or
adults. The onset of puberty quickly brings a narrowing down of sexual response
to a much reduced number of specifically sexual items. The range is narrowed
still further by the conditioning effects of a person's individual experience
and basic disposition, until only a few strong preferences prevail - preferences
that tend to become narrowed to ever fewer targets as a person builds up
aversion reactions to "opposite" alternatives. At the extreme end of
this whole conditioning process are the narrow, intense fetishistic
preferences.
And yet all this work of conditioning applies almost exclusively to males. For
reasons that are still not fully understood, female sexual response is
virtually non-conditionable (Kinsey, 1953, p. 642/.). Thus despite local,
rewarding sex experiences of myriad kinds, women simply do not become
"fixated" onto any one particular kind of sex practice or preference
in the way that men do. (Nobody on record ever saw a female black-shoe
fetishist and probably never will, although this and a host of equivalent male
fetishes are commonplace.)
Male homosexuality affords uniquely useful insights into the whole problem of
understanding fetishes. By its very nature, the male-male pairing affords a
double chance of seeing a fetishistic demand revved up in intensity by being
fed from both sides. By contrast, since fetishistic responses are very rare
among women, they are virtually non-existent among lesbian couples.
In heterosexual couples the fetishistic male has to work out a compromise
acceptable to his female partner; this may call for tact and other forms of
inhibition on his part, and a degree of forbearance from her - a compromise on
both sides that can greatly obscure the true reactions of each. However, there
is no indication that heterosexual men, if given equally responsive partners,
would be any less inclined toward fetishism than are homosexual men.
BIBLIOGRAPHY. Alfred C. Kinsey, Wardell B. Pomeroy, and Clyde E. Martin, Sexual Behavior in the Human Male, Philadelphia: Saunders,
1948; Alfred C. Kinsey, Wardell B. Pomeroy, Clyde E. Martin, and Paul H.
Gebhard, Sexual Behavior in the
Human female, Philadelphia: Saunders,
1953; C. A. Tripp, The
Homosexual Matrix, second ed., New York: New American Library, 1987.
C. A. Tripp
Fichte, Hubert (1935-1986)
German
writer. One of the major (West) German authors of the postwar period, Fichte is
rare among German authors in that he not only treated the subject of
homosexuahty openly but even made it his starting point and guiding force.
Bom the illegitimate child of a mother who was unable to realize a longed-for
career as an actress and a Jewish father who seems to have disappeared after
emigrating to Sweden, Hubert Fichte grew up an "outsider." After a
career as a child actor in Hamburg theatres and in the movies (and an
ambivalent relationship with Hans Henny Jahnn), Fichte set off for France with
a traveling scholarship from the French government. In that country he served
for a time as a leader in the camps of Abbe Pierre. Back in North Germany and
in Sweden, Fichte devoted himself - and in a completely professional manner -
to farming. At the same time he worked on translations (rendering Simplizius Simplizissimus into French, together with
Jean Giono), and on his own writings.
His first publications (1959,1961) brought him his first successes: writing
fellowships and participation in the congresses of the influential Gruppe 47.
From 1965 onward his strongly autobiographical novels, beginning with Das Waisenhaus, appeared. In the year in
which the last novel in this series, Versuch
über die Pubertät, was published (1974), Hubert Fichte began an ambitious
project: "The History of Sensibility," planned for 19 volumes, novels
and books containing "glosses," on which he labored almost
obsessively until his death, and which is now being edited in a fragmentary
form by the administrators of his literary heritage. Some of the volumes (so
far as can be judged from the extant published work and the plans for
publication) derive from the autobiographical world of the earlier novels; an
additional section continues a project that Fichte had undertaken alongside
his novels. Closely related to the novels is a "poetic
anthropology/ethnology" that focuses not just on Afro-American religions
- to which two large volumes of text and parallel volumes of illustrations by
the photographer Leonore Mau, who had been living and working with Fichte since
1963, are devoted {Xango:
Die afroamerikanischen Religionen: Bahia, Haiti, Trinidad, 1978/84, Petersihe: Die afroamerikanischen
Religionen: Santo Domingo, Venezuela, Miami, Grenada, 1980/84) - but also on
traditions and phenomena of European culture with the same perspective of the
ethnologist and anthropologist. In these works high culture (Sappho, Homer,
August von Platen, Genet) is treated and depicted with the same attentiveness
as the world of the Hamburg "Palais d'Amour." After Fichte's death
there appeared Homosexualität
und Literatur: Polemiken, vols. 1 and 2 (1987-88).
What is new, different, and rewarding in Hubert Fichte is more than his range.
It is stimulating to observe how the new standpoint, which probably even
without "gay consciousness," leads to new forms of verbalization and
to open forms (even the format of Fichte's novels on the printed page - with
much blank space - is open). His use of text collages at the macro and micro
level can be read as the reflex of a process "of fragmentation and rebirth."
In this process Fichte brought together a broadly conceived interpretation of
"puberty" and "religion."
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
Thomas Beckermann, ed., Hubert Pichte: Materialien zu Leben und Werk, Frankfurt am Main: Fischer, 1985;
Marita Keilson-Lauritz, "Durch die goldene Harfe gelispelt: Zur
George-Rezeption bei Hubert Fichte," Forum Homosexuahtät und Literatur, 2 (1987), 21 - 51; Wolf gang von
Wangenheim, Hubert
Fichte, Munich:
C. H. Beck, 1980.
Marita Keilson-Lauritz
Ficino, Marsilio (1433-1499)
Italian
philosopher and humanist. The son of a physician, he preferred to take up the
study of philosophy rather than to follow in his father's footsteps. The
arrival in Italy of learned Byzantines fleeing Constantinople after it had fallen to the Turks in
1453 gave Italian humanists the opportunity of studying Greek works which had
been previously unknown to them. In this way the young Ficino discovered
Platonism, learning Greek in order to study its texts.
Having gained the favor of the Medici family in Florence, Ficino was protected
by them for the rest of his life; they presented him with a precious gift of
Greek manuscripts, which he translated. Ficino quickly became a respected
personality, attracting various pupils in a kind of Platonic Academy. In 1473
he took priestly orders, while continuing his philosophical speculations and
taking on the responsibility of showing that the philosophy of Plato was in
accord with Christian doctrine, as St. Thomas Aquinas had done earlier with
Aristotle.
Amonghis most important works is the Theologia
platónica (published in 1482), to
which must be added strictly religious works (e.g., his Commentary on the
Epistles of St. Paul), and philosophical disquisitions (e.g., his Commentary on
Plato's Symposium of 1469, in which he revived the form of the Platonic
dialogue), as well as an impressive number of translations from the Greek of
works of Plato and other ancient Greek thinkers. These translations made
available to a scholarly public works that for the most part had been inaccessible
up to that time in the West.
Marsilio Ficino is one of the most representative personalities of the Italian
Renaissance. His fame is inseparable from his love and painstaking work of
rediscovery, translation, commentary, and advocacy of the works of Plato.
Of special significance in this regard is his resurrection of the Platonic
ideal of love, as it is known from the Phaedrus
and the Symposium. In the sixteenth century
Ficino's version was elaborated in countless treatises on love, becoming the
prototype of a new concept of "courtly love."
Under the rubric of amor
socraticus Ficino set forth a paradigm of a profound but highly
spiritual love between two men, perhaps linked by their common devotion to the
quest for knowledge. According to his statement in the above-mentioned
Cotnmentary on Plato's Symposium,
this love
is caused, following Plato's conception, by the vision of beauty vouchsafed by
the soul of the other individual - a beauty that reflects the supernal beauty
of God. Through the physical beauty of a young man - women were incapable of
inciting this rapture, being more suited to stimulate copulation for the
reproduction of the species - the prudent man ascends to the Beauty which is
the archetypal Idea (in Plato's sense) on which the beauty he sees depends -
hence to God himself. Thus contemplating the physical and spiritual beauty of
ayoung man through love is a way of contemplating at least a fragment of Divine
Beauty, the model of every individual terrestrial beauty.
Ficino practiced this love metaphysic with the young and handsome Giovanni
Cavalcanti (ca. 1444-1509), whom he made the principal character in his
commentary on the Convivio,
and to
whom he wrote ardent love letters in Latin, which were published in his Epistulae in 1492. It is an ironic
fact that the object of his love always remained [as Ficino himself laments)
in a state of embarrassment.
Apart from these letters there are numerous indications that Ficino's erotic
impulses were directed toward men. After his death his biographers had a
difficult task in trying to refute those who spoke of his homosexual
tendencies.
Fortunately the universal respect enjoyed by Ficino, his sincere and deep
faith, as well as his membership in the Catholic clergy, put him outside the
reach of gossip and suspicions of sodomy - which, however, such followers as
Benedetto Varchi were not spared.
After Ficino's death the ideal of "Socratic love" became a potent
instrument to justify love between persons of the same sex,- during the high
Renaissance many persons were to make use of this protective shield. Yet this
use served ultimately to discredit the ideal in the eyes of the public, and
with the passage of the years it was regarded with increasing distrust, until
- about 1550 - it became simply identified with sodomy itself. Consequently,
in order to save it, from the middle of the sixteenth century the ideal was
heterosexualized, and in this guise it long survived in love treatises and in
Italian and European love literature in general.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
Giovanni Dall'Orto, '"Socratic Love' as a Disguise for Same-sex Love in
the Italian Renaissance," Journal
of Homosexuality, 16(1988), 33-65.
Giovanni Dall'Orto
Fiction
See Novels and Short Fiction.
Fidentian Poetry
This
minor genre of Italian poetry originated as a vehicle for homosexual themes
that within the larger context of burlesque poetry have given rise to
Burchiellesque and Bernesque poetry. The initiator of Fidentian poetry was
Camillo Scroffa (1526-1565), a jurisconsult of Vicenza, in his Cantici di Fidenzio published in 1562 (but
composed about 1545-50).
The Cantici, which probably come from
Scroffa's student days at Padua, are supposed to have been written by an
"amorous pedant," one Fidenzio Glottocrisio Ludomagistro, who is
hopelessly in love with the handsome Camillo Strozzi. It is possible that the Cantici began as a student prank
at the expense of a pedantic teacher at the University of Padua, Pietro Giunteo
Fidenzio da Montagnana.
In fact the author seems to have forgotten this hoax of his youth; he decided
to prepare an edition only after a series of unauthorized, and often enlarged,
published collections had made the material popular.
The anthology amounts in the main to an anti-Petrarchan pamphlet, poking fun at
well-worn conventions of love poetry, while at the same time it is a satire on
the excessive preoccupation with classical antiquity into which the humanists
had fallen, both from a linguistic stand-point and in view of their exaltation
of the so-called Socratic love.
In fact not only is the fictitious author of the Cantici "Somatically" in
love with his pupil "in the ancient manner," but he composes love
poetry in a language in which immoderate love for the Latin language produces a
thoroughgoing bastardization of the Italian, which has to bear an endless
assault of Latinisms. The effect is comically pompous.
Scroffa's literary astuteness emerges in his having created avery human
character, one who is pathetically caught up in the toils of an
"impossible" love, set apart from the lives of normal people, and
incapable of seeing anything wrong in the overwhelming sentiment he feels for
"his" Camillo. The poems are tender and very candid, to the point
that, the satire notwithstanding, the reader feels great sympathy for the
hapless Fidenzio.
What came to be known as Fidentian poetry - which is technically the opposite
of macaronic poetry, which mixes vernacular elements into Latin, instead of
vice versa - was cultivated even before the first authorized edition of the Cantici in 1562, and lasted until
the beginning of the eighteenth century.
Scrofa's first imitators kept close to his homoerotic inspiration. The finest
among them are probably the anonymous author of "Tano Argyroglotto"
(who also translated an anacreontic poem) and Giambattista Liviera (1565-early
seventeenth century).
With the spread of Counterreformation ideas, the tone of the compositions was
prudently and prudishly changed from homoerotic to heterosexual. Incapable of
maintaining the subtle balance between irony and transgression, which Scroff a
had exemplified, later Fidentian poetry became a sterile and repetitive poetic
exercise, the equivalent of the mannered poetry which was in fact the original
target of the Cantici
di Fidenzio.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
Camillo Scroffa, J Cantici di Fidenzio, con appendice di poeti fidenziani, Pietro Trifone, ed., Rome:
Salerno, 1981.
Giovanni Dall' Oito
Fiedler Thesis
In a 1948
essay widely circulated in the 1950s ("Come Back on the Raft Ag'in
Honey"), the innovative literary critic Leslie Fiedler argued that
interracial male homoerotic relationships (not necessarily genitally
expressed) have occupied a central place in the American psyche. Citing works
by Fenimore Cooper, Richard Henry Dana, Herman Melville, and Mark Twain, he
even spoke of the "sacred marriage of males."
Whatever the ultimate verdict on this thesis may be, it is probably true that
male homosexuals - and lesbians - have for a long time been more open to
interracial contact than the population at large. It has been suggested that
racial complementation serves as a surrogate for the absent complementation of
gender. Those who hold this view find a similar pattern in relationships that
cross class lines. In the case of racial dyads, as seen typically in the
"salt-and-pepper couple," the greater frequency may also be
facilitated by the fact that no children will be born from the union, a
question that heterosexual couples - in view of the lingering racism of our
society - cannot ignore. That interracial gay relationships have been accompanied
by some self-consciousness (and hostility on the part of bigoted individuals)
transpires from such slang epithets as dinge/chocolate
queen, snow queen, rice queen, and taco
queen.
In the
late 1970s the organization Black and White Men Together appeared in a number
of American cities, attracting a good deal of support. In addition to offering
social opportunities, the group has sought to explore the subtler aspects of
the dynamics of such relationships, as well as to oppose racism. In some cities
it is called Men of All Colors Together (MACT).
See also Black Gay Americans;
Working Class, Eroticization of.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
Leslie Fiedler, An End to Innocence, Boston: Beacon Press,
1952, pp. 142-51; Michael J. Smith, Black Men/White Men: A Cay Anthology, San Francisco: Gay
Sunshine Press, 1983.
Film
Movie
making is both an art and an industry. It has drawn for inspiration on theatre,
fiction, biography, history, current affairs, religion, folklore, and the visual
and musical arts. Active in stimulating the fantasy lives of viewers, motion
pictures also reflect, though in a highly selective and often distorted way,
the texture of daily life.
History of Motion Pictures. Although the first crude
efforts with a proto-movie camera were made in the 1880s, films did not begin
to be shown in specially designed cinemas until the beginning of the present
century. Widely regarded at the time as disreputable and not suitable for
middle-class audiences, the silents were subject to pressure to make them more
respectable.
By 1913 Hollywood had emerged as the center of America's film industry, and by
the end of the decade it was the world's leader. This commercial success drew
additional attention from the "guardians of morality" in the pulpits
and the press. In 1922 Hollywood set up an office of self-censorship, the
Motion Picture Producers and Distributors of America (popularly known as the
Hays Office), to head off efforts to install government censorship. However,
the Motion Picture Production Code was not promulgated until 1930; four years
later, at the behest of religious groups, it was strengthened. In 1927 sound
dialogue was introduced (the "talkies"), making possible, inter alia,
the inclusion of suggestive dialogue of the Mae West type, though a constant
running battle with the guardians of the code was required to retain even the
subtlest double entendres.
In its heydey (1930-60) the motion picture industry was dominated by a small
number of powerful Hollywood studios cranking out seemingly endless cycles of
films based on a few successful exemplars. The focus on the stars, which had
begun in the silent era, was continued, some of them now becoming (for reasons
that are not always clear) gay icons: Bette Davis, Judy Garland, and James
Dean. Anything that did not conform to the code had to be shown in a few
"art theatres" in the large cities or in semi-private film clubs such
as Cinema 16 in New York; it could find no mass audience.
By the mid-sixties television had begun to call the tune, and some studio lots
were given over to producing standard fare for the small screen. Yet motion pictures
survived and the sixties saw the rise of independent producers, who broke the
stranglehold of the big studios. The demographics of the motion picture
audience also changed, becoming more segmented, younger and more sophisticated.
In this new climate some offbeat themes became realizable, often in films for
"special audiences" such as counterculture youth and blacks. Even
the rise (in the eighties) of videos rented in stores and played on home VCRs
did not kill the movie houses. Moreover, the videos proved a boon to film
scholars, who were able to reexamine older statements and theories through
minute study of the films themselves.
Although the naive observer regards movies as a direct transcription of
reality, technical and aesthetic considerations require transformation of the
basic material. Moreover, social pressures - and the basic need to make money
that is affected by them - shape choices of what is to be excluded and
included. Gay and lesbian scholars have argued that their communities have
never been adequately represented in mainstream motion pictures, which have
been content to serve up brief glimpses and easy stereotypes. Be this as it
may, there is much to be learned from a careful study of filmic images -
mainstream and experimental, amateur and pornographic - that relate to alternative
sexuality.
Beginnings. The first serious
homosexual film appears to be Mauritz Stiller's The Wings (1916), based on the novel
Mikaél by the Danish gay author
Herman Bang. This work is an early example of the perennial practice (not of
course limited to homosexual movies) of basing the story line on a successful
novel. In 1919 the German director Richard Oswald produced an educational film Anders als die Andern (Different from the
Others) with the advice and participation of the great sex researcher Magnus
Hirschfeld. The movie portrays the difficulty of establishing a homosexual identity
in a hostile environment, the expectation of marriage imposed by relatives,
coming out, the tensions within gay relationships, blackmail, and the tragedy
of suicide. The stormy reception accorded public showings oí Anders
als die Andern tended to discourage the otherwise innovative film
industry of Weimar Germany from venturing much further into the realm of
homosexuality. Probably the first explicit lesbian in film, however, was featured
in G. W. Pabst's Pandora's
Box(1929),
based on a play by Frank Wedekind. In 1931 Leontine Sagan's Mädchen in Uniform appeared, based on a play
by lesbian writer Christa Winsloe. The story, which concerns the love of a
sensitive student for her teacher, serves a broader purpose of questioning
social rigidity and authoritarianism. This film, whose intense performances
held audiences from the beginning, is rightly designated a classic.
Constricted by the Hays office, America produced Utile that was comparable. An
exception is the experimental Lot
in Sodom (1933) of James Watson and Melville Webber, which however
played upon lingering fin-de-siecle ideas of decadence. In France Jean Vigo's Zero de Conduite (1933), set in a boy's
school, has homoerotic overtones, but these are not explicit.
Drag Films and Scenes. From the
nineteenth-century tradition of theatrical transvestism - male and female impersonation
- the movies inherited a minor but surprisingly persistent motif. Julian
Eltinge, a renowned female impersonator from the vaudeville circuit, was
brought to films by Adolph Zukor in 1917. The plots of his popular films
generally offered some pretext for his making a transition from male to female
attire. Brandon Thomas's theatre staple Charley's
Aunt was
first filmed as a silent in 1925, to be followed eventually by four sound
versions. The plot concerns a young aristocrat at Oxford who comes to the
rescue of two fellow students by disguising himself as the Brazilian aunt of
one of them. In the German musical comedy Viktorund Viktoria (1933,-remade in England
in 1935), an aspiring actress gets her chance to replace a major male star by
doing his role first as a man and then as a woman - a double disguise. In 1982
Blake Edwards remade this comedy to great effect starring Julie Andrews.
Beginning with Morocco
in 1930 Marlene Dietrich essayed a series
of male impersonations - a device which became virtually her trademark. In
the historical drama Queen
Christina (1933), rich in homosexual and lesbian innuendo, Greta Garbo made a stunning appearance
as the monarch disguised as a boy. Billy Wilder's Some Like It Hot (1959) featured Jack
Lemmon and Tony Curtis as musicians compelled to disguise themselves as women
because they inadvertently witnessed a gangster shootout. Although this film
has remained a great favorite among gay men, only the last scene, in which Joe
E. Brown insists that he still wants to marry Lemmon even though he is a man,
is truly homosexual. The grossly obese transvestite Divine (who died in 1988)
appeared in a number of deliberately tacky John Waters films in the 1970s and
80s. After an initially tepid audience response, the musical The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1976) became the focus of
a cult of remarkable longevity in which members of the audience dress up as the
characters, doubling the action as the film unfolds. Tim Curry plays a
"sweet transvestite," Dr. Frank-N-Furter, who creates a muscle-bound
monster for his own delectation. Then the French weighed in with La Cage aux Folies (1979), about two older
gay men on the Riviera. This list could be extended for many pages. The point
of the drag films is not so much whether they are explicitly homosexual, but
their capacity to challenge gender role conventions. Yet the genre is so well
entrenched that, unless specially charged, it has lost most of its power to
shock, and thus change thinking.
The Sissy Motif. While contempt for
effeminacy is deeply rooted in Western culture (it is already found among the
ancient Greeks), the motif took on special coloration in America, where the
sissy was identified with effete European culture as contrasted with the
frontier-bred he-man. Thus in the film Mollycoddle
Douglas
Fairbanks is a foppish expatriate living in Europe who must win his way back to
his rugged, masculine American heritage. In the comedies of Harold Lloyd, the
bespectacled weakling is made to prove his masculinity over and over again.
In the 1930s, as the Hays Office code tightened its stifling hold, the sissy
became a camouflage for the male homosexual, who could not be presented directly.
In Lewis Milestone's 1931 version of The
Front Page, a milktoast poet-reporter, played by Edward Everett Horton,
is a foil for the tough-guy reporters. During the 1930s Ernest Truex and
Franklin Pangborn made the character virtually their own. With the collapse of
censorship in the late 1960s, this subterfuge became less common, but it is
still resorted to occasionally when the filmmakers wish to blur the image of a
homosexual character.
Buddy Films. The drag and sissy films
featured individuals who were generally isolated and risible, and hence could
scarcely be regarded as role models by the general public. It was quite
different with the buddy films - a classic example is Beau Geste (1926) - which generally presented dashing specimens of
manhood who bonded with others of their ilk. For this reason homoerotic
overtones generally had to be more subtle than in the other two genres. Many of
these films raise problems of interpretation, in that the homoerotic elements
that are detected by gay viewers (and a few homophobes) are often ignored by
general audiences. Is it a case of projection (on the one hand) or obtuseness
(on the other)? Recent literary criticism has emphasized that each work lends
itself to a multiplicity of interpretations as the reader recreates the work.
Regardless of whether this principle applies to films in general, it does seem
helpful in understanding the divergent interpretations of buddy films.
An early landmark of the genre is William Wellman's Wings (1928), not to be confused with Stiller's earlier work. As
one of the two flyer heroes is dying in the arms of the other, the survivor
epitomizes: "There is nothing in the world that means more to me than your
friendship." A sinister example is Alfred Hitchcock's Strangers on a Train (1951), based on a novel
by Patricia Highsmith, where two men make a double murder pact. Adolescent
alienation was the theme of Rebel
without a Cause (1955), in which, however, the delicate Sal Mineo
character dies so that James Dean can be united with Natalie Wood. In 1964 Becket provided a medieval
setting, while the popular Butch
Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1974) updated the long tradition of Westerns featuring
male heroes and their "sidekicks" by making Paul Newman and Robert
Redford equal partners.
The seventies provided a few opportunities for a franker divulgence of the
subtext. In the French Going
Places [Les valseuses, 1974) Gerard Depardieu and Patrick Dewaere even have sex in
one scene; the next day Dewaere is remorseful and ashamed, but Depardieu tells
him to forget it: it's OK among friends.
Transfers. Novels having gay and
lesbian characters have received a variety of treatments. Early on, the gay
character is either written out or made straight [Young Man with a Horn, 1950) or the gender is
changed (as in Serenade
[1956],
after James M. Cain's novel, the gay-male impresario is turned into a femme
fatale agent, played by Joan Fontaine). Cabaret
(1972)
made the Isherwood character bisexual, but the earlier / am a Camera passed him off as
straight. Inside
Daisy Clover made the gay movie star (Robert Redford) only bisexual, and
then only through the dialogue of other people. In the book Midnight Express the hero admitted to a
gay love affair in prison, but in the movie version (1978) he rejects a handsome
fellow inmate's advances. Although William Hurt received an Academy Award in
1986 for his portrayal of a fern prisoner in Kiss of the Spider Woman, many gay viewers -
including the book's author, Manuel Puig - found him unconvincing.
In screened plays, especially those of Tennessee Williams, the crucial bits of
dialogue are omitted, so that one wonders what the fuss is about with Blanche
and her dead friend in Streetcar
Nam ed Desire (1951) or the problem that keeps Brick and Maggie apart in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958). Yet the English Taste of Honey (1961) retained the
honesty of Shelagh Delaney's play, providing a rare instance of a sympathetic
effeminate gay man.
Screen biographies of gay people have had similar fates. Michelangelo and Cole
Porter appear as joyful heterosexuals; Oscar Wilde could not be sanitized, to
be sure, but he was presented in a "tasteful" manner (three British
versions, two in 1960, one in 1984). Recent screen biographies have been better;
the documentary on the painter Paul Cadmus (1980) is open without being
sensational; Prick
Up Your Ears, on the life of Joe Orton, is as frank as one can wish,
though it somehow misses the core of his personality. Nik and Murray, while not properly
speaking a biography, told the story of dance-world luminaries Alwin Nikolais
and Murray Louis, treating their long-term relationship simply as a matter of
fact. Unanswered Prayers:
The Life and Times of Truman Capote (1987) pulled few punches, and Gian-Carlo Menotti: The Musical Magician (1986), though it provided
no intimate details, did not gloss over the relationship with Samuel Barber.
The European "Art
Film." After World War n, as Europe emerged from the stultifying restraints of the
Occupation, a greater freedom was sought in many areas, including the erotic.
Moral guardians were still very much on the scene, however, and homosexuality
had to be presented in aestheticized, "tasteful" guise. Clearly ahead
of its time was Jean Genet's Un
Chant d'Amour, about prison homoeroticism and its repression. In The Third Sex (West Germany, 1959) a
sophisticated older man has an entourage of teen-aged boys. Although this film
purveys dated ideas of homosexuality, it went farther in explicitness than anything
that Hollywood was able to do for over a decade. Federico Fellini's celebrated La Dolce Vita (1960) is a
multifaceted portrait of eternal decadence in chic circles in Rome. The
English Victim
(1961),
which concerns the blackmailing of a young homosexual, is clearly a plea for
law reform in the wake of the 1957 Wolfenden Report. Sidney J. Furie's The Leather Boys (1964) portrays a buddy
relationship between two motorcyclists, one gay, one straight. In the same year
a French director Jean Delannoy even showed (though in highly aestheticized
form) love between two schoolboys in Les
Amities particuliéres, based on the 1945 novel of
Roger Peyrefitte.
The Sixties Thaw in America.
The early
years of the sixties saw the start of the civil rights movement in the United
States, while at the same time a series of court decisions struck down literary
censorship, signaling that restriction on films would be relaxed as well. Otto
Preminger's Advise and
Consent ¡1962) even brought homosexuality to the hallowed halls of
the United States Senate, but presented it as a seamy reality far from the
conventional lif e of an upright American politician, even though it was based
on the suicide of Senator Lester Hunt of Wyoming in 1954. This film presented
audiences with their first glimpseof agay bar. One breakthrough came in 1967
when the legendary Marlon Brando portrayed a closeted homosexual army officer
in John Huston's Reflections
in a Golden Eye, a film which drew a "Condemned" rating from the
Catholic Church. In The Sergeant (1968) and Suddenly Last Summer (1969) both protagonists
meet death as the wages of their perversion. The lesbian relationship in 1968's
The Fox is also ended through the
death of Sandy Dennis. Although it was essentially a buddy movie, Midnight Cowboy (1969), with Jon Voight
and Dustin Hoffman, offered some revealing glimpses of the Times Square
hustling scene, with Voight sympathetically playing a "straight
trade" type; one scene has him experiencing oral sex in an all-night
movie theater.
The Underground Cinema. In 1947 Kenneth Anger,
then still a southern California high school student, made Fireworks, a symbol-laden,
quasi-surrealist portrayal of a gay sex encounter. Although his career never
really took off in the commercial sense, Anger made another innovative film Scorpio Rising in 1963, which foretold
Counterculture sexual freedom and the interest in the occult. Somewhat
similar was Jack Smith's Flaming
Creatures (1963), while Gregory Markopoulos achieved a more aestheticized
and abstract version of the mode. These developments have been termed the
"Baudelairean cinema," since they depend on some aspects of the
French nineteenth-century decadent sensibility. Their immediate heir, however,
was Andy Warhol, who branched out from painting in such deliberately crude
films as Blow
Job (1963)
and My Hustler
(1965).
Neither was really pornographic but their acceptance helped speed the fall of
censorship barriers.
Breakthough. Only with William
Friedkin's Boys
in the Band (1970) were audiences confronted with a Hollywood film in
which all the characters are stereotypical homosexuals. The tone remained
mocking and hostile, reassuring straight audiences that such people were doomed
to unhappiness in "the wasteland of homosexual existence."
Also in 1970 came Michael York's portrayal of a scheming, murderous bisexual
in Something for
Everyone. York again played a bisexual as the male lead Brian in the
film version of Cabaret
(1972),
based on Christopher Isherwood's Berlin
Stories. The early seventies were also notable for two films which
dealt with male rape, in each case of a heterosexual by a heterosexual. The
1971 Canadian film version of John Herbert's play Fortune and Men's Eyes dealt with a prison
setting, and included some rather explicit footage as well as a drag-queen who
turns out to be the strongest of the main characters. Burt Reynolds starred in DeMverance (1972), in which a
white-water macho buddy trip is disrupted by some hillbillies who take advantage
of an opportunity to sodomize one of the buddies at gunpoint.
Against this background, Christopher Larkin's A Very Natural Thing (1973) came as a wholly
positive portrait of gay relationships. Sidney Lumet's DogDay Afternoon (1975) followed with the
real story of a bisexual bankrobber, played by Al Pacino, and his would-be
transsexual lover, sympathetically told.
Europe continued to be important with the emergence of openly gay directors.
As early as 1968 Pier Paolo Pasolini had made Teorema, about the visit of a
pansexual angel to the household of a Milan industrialist. Not to be outdone,
his older colleague Luchino Visconti made The Damned (1969), a somewhat
fanciful recreation of the massacre of Captain Rohm and his Nazi storm trooper
comrades in the 1934 "night of the long knives," depicted as a wild
orgy of blond German youths suddenly interrupted by submachine guns from the
rival Nazis of the S.S. Bernardo Bertolucci's The Conformist (1970) made a questionable
equation between childhood homosexual experience and Italian fascism. A year
later Visconti brought out a more lyrical and successful film,
arenderingofThomasMann'snovella Death
in Venice. Britain's John Schlesinger depicted a triad of two men and
a woman in which one of the men was involved with the other two in 197 l's Sunday Bloody Sunday-, this film was notable for
the shock experienced by straight audiences at a kissing scene between Peter
Finch and Murray Head. Perhaps the most notorious of the gay directors was
Rainer Werner Fassbinder, whose Fox
and His Friends (1975) deals with homosexuality and class struggle.
Fassbinder's last film was his controversial version of a Genet novel, Querelle (1982). The death of
Franco created the possibility of a new openness in Spanish culture, including
a number of gay films. Influenced by Luis Bufiuel, Law of Desire (1986) by Pedro Almodovar
is surely a masterpiece of comic surrealism.
The Positive Eighties. Homophobia in
movie-making became a major issue in 1980, when street demonstrations called to
protest and disrupt the filming of Cruising
proved
effective and the movie's showings were often targeted for further protests.
As the controversial film failed to score big at the box office, Hollywood drew
the lesson that blatant homophobia was no longer good business.
In 1982 Hollywood came back with Making
Love, a
high budget soap opera about two yuppie lovers, in an attempt to lure a new
market; as the attempt failed, no further such excursions appeared. Also in
1982 came Personal
Best, with
Mariel Hemingway as a lesbian athlete, and in 1986, the independently produced Desert Hearts, after the novel Desert of the Heart by Jane Rule, but both
films showed disappointing box-office receipts. Bill Sherwood's Parting Glances (1986), a sensitive story
of two men, one with AIDS, the other not, was not intended to make money.
Modest expectations also attended theBritishMy Beautiful Laundrette (1985), featuring an
unselfconscious love affair between two teenage boys, one white, the other
Pakistani; yet it enjoyed surprisingly long runs. In 1987, however, Maurice, a beautifully detailed
recreation of the E. M. Forster novel by the Merchant-Ivory team, showed that
excellence, high budget commercial standards, and honesty about homosexuality
could be successfully combined.
Gay and Lesbian
Personalities. While actors are often thought of as homosexual or
bisexual - and many are - the real gay side of Hollywood is probably to be
found in those who do not appear on the screen - agents, costume designers,
choreographers, and makeup artists. Already in the 1920s some major directors
were known to be gay, including the German Friedrich W. Murnau and the Russian
Sergei Eisenstein. Dorothy Arzner certainly projected a mannish appearance,
whatever her sex life was. The English James Whale went to Hollywood, where he
achieved success in directing horror movies. Pasolini, Visconti, and Fassbinder
have been mentioned above; the multitalented Franco Zeffirelli (also active in
the field of opera) should also be noted.
From an early date Hollywood had promoted the cult of the stars, with their
images carefully shaped by studio public relations departments. A curious
aspect of star adulation is the preoccupation, amounting almost to
identification, of gay men with such heterosexual divas as Joan Crawford and
Judy Garland. Of course the gossip mills turned endlessly. While Rudolph
Valentino had to undergo (still unsubstantiated) gossip about his
homosexuality, his successor Ramon Novarro really did it, as his tragic murder
by two hustlers in 1968 finally attested. The screenwriter Mercedes de Acosta
claimed to have had affairs with both Garbo and Dietrich. During their
lifetimes Charles Laughton and Montgomery Clift had to suffer fag-baiting
taunts from colleagues, while Rock Hudson remained largely untouched by public
scandal until his death from AIDS in 1985. Tyrone Power and Cary Grant were
decloseted after their deaths. The sexuality of others, such as Errol Flynn and
James Dean, remains the subject of argument. In Germany the stage actor and
film director Gustav Grundgens managed to work through the Nazi period, even
though his homosexuality was known to the regime. In the 1970s, the English
actor Dirk Bogarde, in a rare and courageous act of candor, went public about
his homosexuality.
Gay-Male Porno Films. The origins of this genre
are obscure, but one source is the "blue movies" made for stag
parties and sold under the counter even before World War II. Another source is
the nonexplicit genre of "muscle films" showing buddy relationships
and wrestling, which were purchased by gay men. In the late 1960s Pat Rocco
produced a series of romantic soft-core (not showing acts of sexual
penetration) films of virile men in love with one another. In 1969, however,
hard-core porno arrived, apparently to stay. Some fifty theatres across the
United States specialized in the genre, and where the authorities were willing
to turn a blind eye, sexual acts took place there, stimulated by the films.
Much of the early production was forgettable, but in 1971, in Boys in the Sand starring Casey Donovan
(Cal Culver), the director - producer Wakefield Poole achieved a rare blend of
sexual explicitness and cinematographicvalues. For a while New York and Los
Angeles vied for supremacy, the eastern city specializing in the seamy side of
gay life, whereas the California city featured wholesome west coast boys. Among
those who achieved some distinction (or at least commercial success) as
directors in Los Angeles are J. Brian, FredHalsted (1940-1989), and William
Higgins. Other notable American directors include Arch Brown, Jack Deveau,
Francis Ellie, Joe Gage, Dave Nesor, and Christopher Rage. The French
Jean-Daniel Cadinot showed that one could combine porno with convincing setting
and characterization. Although they are not strictly porno, much the same can
be said for the films of the late Arthur J. Bresson, who even dared to deal
with boy love.
In the later eighties AIDS began to devastate porno-industry workers, gay and
straight, and safe sex procedures became more rigorous on the set (it should
be noted, however, that long before AIDS, by strict convention pornographic
film ejaculations were always conducted outside the body, so as to be
graphically visible; hence film sex was always basically "safe sex").
Video rentals for home use competed with cinema showings, and some of the
sleazier houses closed.
Lesbian porno exists only as scenes within films addressed to heterosexual
males, their being, thus far, no market for full-length lesbian films of this
nature. A number of independent lesbian filmmakers have made candid motion
pictures about lesbian life, but they are not pornographic.
Documentaries. Perhaps the first is a
chapter in the life of openly gay artist David Hockney, A Bigger Splash (1974). Word is Out was a 1977 composite set
of interviews providing a remarkable panorama of gay and lesbian reality. In
1978 Rosa von Praunheim, a militant German gay director, brought out An Army of Lovers, a record of his visits to
American gay liberation leaders. Improper
Conduct (1984) by Nestor Almendros and Orlando Jimenez featured interviews with gay
exiles from Castro's Cuba. The
Times of Harvey Milk (1985), concerning San Francisco's slain political leader,
received an Academy Award in 1986. The availability of cheaper equipment has
made documentaries of important events, such as the 1987 march on Washington,
easier, and the video rental system has made them available to those who cannot
attend the often brief theatrical engagements. Major cities, such as Amsterdam,
Chicago, Los Angeles, and New York, now have annual film festivals in which gay
and lesbian motion pictures of all sorts are showcased.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
Kenneth Anger, Hollywood Babylon II, New York: Dutton, 1984;
Rebecca Bell-Metereau, Hollywood Androgyny, New York: Columbia
University Press, 1965; Homer Dickens, What a Drag: Men as Women and Women as Men in the Movies, New York: Quill, 1984;
Richard Dyer, et al., Gays and Pilm, New York: New York Zoetrope, 1984; Stefanie Hetze, Happy end für wenf Kino
und lesbische Frauen, Frankfurt am Main: Tende, 1986; Joan Mellen, Big Bad Wolves: Masculinity in the American Film, New York: Pantheon Books,
1977; Bertrand Philbert, L'Homosexualité à l'écran, Paris: H. Veyrier, 1984; John W. Rowberry, Gay Video: A Guide to Erotica, San Francisco: G. S.
Press, 1987; Carel Rowe, The Baudelairean Cinema: A Trend Within the American Avant-Garde, Ann Arbor, MI: UMI
Research Press, 1982; Vito Russo, The Celluloid Closet: Homosexuality in the Movies, New York: Harper and Row,
1981; Parker Tyler, Screening the Sexes: Homosexuality in the Movies, New York: Holt, Rinehart
and Winston, 1972.
Wayne R. Dynes
Firbank, Ronald (1886-1926)
English
novelist and playwright. Firbank, an aesthete and a dandy, was the grandson of
a Durham miner, whose Victorian rags-to-riches ascent provided the income for
his grandson to live independently and to publish most of his books privately.
A delicate child, he was educated mainly by private tutors. He attended
Trinity College, Cambridge, during the height of the university's homoerotic
period, but never took a degree. In 1907 he was converted to the Roman Catholic
church by R. H. Benson, a closeted homosexual who had been a patron of
Frederick Rolfe ("Baron Corvo"). Shy and retiring, Firbank spent much of his life traveling,
writing his novels on the backs of large postcards. He seems to have had no
long-term homosexual affairs; as he remarked with resignation, "I can buy
companionship."
Characteristically, the plot of his first novel, Vainglory (1915), which concerns
the quest of a society woman to have herself memorialized in a stained-glass
window, is a slight affair. The interest lies in the social color as expressed
in the dialogue, where Firbank leaves out many of the usual narrative markers,
including the identity of the speakers, so that the reader is left to construct
much of the background for himself. Valmouth
(1919)
concerns a nursing home for centenarians, while Prancing Nigger (1919) is set on a
Caribbean island. In the latter novel, he introduces his own name as that of an
orchid: "a dingy lilac blossom of rarity untold." His last novel, Concerning the Eccentricities of Cardinal
Pirelli, in which the eponymous cleric chases but never quite
succeeds in catching choir boys, was published just after his death in Rome
from a pulmonary infection (1926).
Seemingly spun from the stuff of trivial social comedy, Firbank's novels made a
significant contribution to literary modernism through their original use of
the device of the "reader's share," whereby he left unstated the
details of plot and characterization. Firbank's popularity waxes and wanes, but
he had a major influence on such younger contemporaries as Evelyn Waugh and
Muriel Spark.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
Miriam J. Benkovitz, Ronald Fiibank: A Biography, New York: Alfred A. Knopf,
1969; Brigid Brophy, Prancing Novelist, New York: Harper and Row, 1973.
Ward Houser
Flanner, Janet ("Genet"; 1892-1978)
American
journalist. After settling in Paris in the 1920s, Janet Flanner began a series
of reports on life in the French capital in The New Yorker. From 1925 onwards she
wrote under the pseudonym of Genet, and the acuteness of her analyses of
politics, diplomacy, and culture made the name an indispensable asset during
the magazine's great phase.
Having returned to the United States as the clouds of World War II gathered,
Flanner met her life companion, Natalia Danesi Murray, in New York in 1940. Of
Italian birth, Murray was an editor, publisher, film producer, theatrical and
bookstore manager, and Allied propagandist for the United States Office of War
Information. At the time of their meeting Flanner was 48, Murray 38. The two
women, who had both divorced their husbands before they met, remained linked
emotionally and intellectually until Planner's death at the age of 86. They
were separated physically for much of each year: Flanner returned to live in
Paris, while Murray lived in New York and Italy. They both witnessed many
important events of the times, knew those who created them, and commented on
what they saw in pungent prose. The evidence lies in their letters, which
Murray decided to publish when she "realized how unique our relationship
was," but "also as a demonstration of how two women surmounted obstacles,
trying to lead their personal and professional lives with dignity and feeling."
In their comments on political events, Flanner and Murray saw male vanity and
the persistence of unthinking ideological loyalties as responsible for many
difficulties that could have been avoided. Much of their correspondence focuses
on their friends: Margaret Anderson, Kay Boyle, Nancy Cunard, Ernest
Hemingway, Carson McCullers, Anna Magnani, and Tennessee Williams. Because some
aspects of the exchange do not accord with today's social conscience, it
attracted mixed reviews in the 1980s. Yet the letters are an invaluable record
of over thirty years of a passionate, yet honest relationship of two intensely
active women.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
Flanner, Janet, Darhnghissima: Letters to a Friend, Natalie Danesi Murray,
ed., New York: Random House, 1985.
Evelyn Gettone
Flaubert, Gustave (1821-1880)
French
novelist. The son of a surgeon, Flaubert grew up in a medical milieu
preoccupied with the progress of a science to which he felt himself unequal.
From his early years at the lycée onward, he preferred the pen to his father's scalpel, and
singlehandedly edited a minor journal, the Colibri, that clumsily but clearly
foretold his future talent. In Paris he read law but never took the degree for
reasons of health, and there met Maxime Du Camp, with whom he formed a close friendship. Together they
traveled through Brittany and Normandy in 1847, bringing back a volume of
reminiscences that was to be published only after Flaubert's death [Par les
champs et par
les grèves, 1885). Between October of
1849 and May of 1851 the two traveled in Egypt and Turkey, and there Flaubert
had a number of pédérastie experiences which he related in his letters to Louis
Bouilhet.
On his return to France Flaubert shut himself up in his country house at
Croisset, near Rouen. Instead of aspiring to self-discovery in the manner of
the Romanticists, Flaubert sought to bury his own personality by striving for
the goal of art in itself, and he devoted his entire life to the quest for its
secrets. His ferocious will to be in his works "like God," everywhere
and nowhere, explains the nerve-wracking effort that went into each of his
novels, in which nothing is left to the free flow of inspiration, nothing is
asserted without being verified, nothingis described that has not been seen.
This explains the multiple versions that are periodically uncovered of almost
every one of his works, with the sole exception of Madame Bovary (1857), which led to his
being tried for offending public decency. At the trial he won acquittal but was
denied the costs of the proceedings. The novel gains its power from the careful
picture of the Norman town and countryside he knew so well, while the lovers
with whom Emma Bovary seeks to realize her dreams are as petty as the leaders of
the provincial society in which she is trapped.
In 1857 he traveled to Tunisia to collect material for a historical novel set
in Carthage after the First Punic War. Salammbô
(1862),
abundantly documented, is so rich in sadistic scenes, including one of a mass
child-sacrifice, that it horrified some contemporary readers. It was followed
in 1869 by L'éducation
sentimentale, which relates the life and the education in love of
Frederic Moreau, and although an uneventful tale, perfectly captures a certain
period and stratum of French society. In 1874 he published La tentation
de saint Antoine, a prose poem of great
power and imagination. His last work, Bouvard
et Pécuchet (issued posthumously in 1881), is an unfinished study in
male bonding.
Flaubert had an interest in homosexuality that went beyond mere voyeurism.
Among his mementoes was the autograph confession of a pederast who had killed
his lover out of jealousy and was eventually guillotined after confessing every
detail of his passion and crime. He was also delighted by the story of a group
of men surprised in a homosexual encounter in a pissoir in the Champs-Élysées, among them the son of a
former Governor of the Bank of France. But it was in Cairo, in the winter of
1849-50, that Flaubert experienced homosexuality in its Oriental guise. A
letter to Bouilhet mentions the bardaches
(passive
homosexuals): "Sodomy is a subject of conversation at table. You can deny
it at times, but everyone starts ribbing you and you end up spilling the beans.
Traveling for our own information and entrusted with a mission by the
government, we regarded it as our duty to abandon ourselves to this manner of
ej aculation. The occasion has not yet presented itself, but we are looking for
one. The Turkish baths are where it is practiced. One rents the bath for 5 fr.,
including the masseurs, pipe, coffee, and linen, and takes one's urchin into
one of the rooms. - You should know that all the bath attendants are bardaches." Then he relates his disappointment
at not obtaining the masseur of his choice. In another letter he writes in
Greek characters that "Máxime [Du Camp] tried to sodomize a bardache in Jeremiah's cave. - It's
untrue!" Then he adds: "No! No! It's true." The experiences of
the two travelers parallel in a way Sir Richard Burton's adventures while on
government service in India; in the exotic setting they felt free to experiment
with pleasures tabooed in their home countries. Although the major themes of
Flaubert's work would always be heterosexual, it is interesting that he was not
repelled by "the other love," but pursued it with nonchalance and
with some evident curiosity.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
Enid Starkie, Plaubezt the Master: A Critical and Biographical Study
(1856-1880), New York: Atheneum, 1971.
Warren Johansson
Florence
This city
in central Italy, the capital of Tuscany, is famous as the native or adoptive
home of many of the chief artistic and cultural figures of the Italian
Renaissance, and for its art treasures.
Historical Background. Of Etruscan origins, it
was a Roman town, but declined with the barbarian invasions until the
Carolingian period (eighth century). An economic renewal took place in the
eleventh and twelfth centuries, causing the city gradually to detach itself
from its feudal overlords, while adding to its own territory. A merchant and
manufacturing city-state, it underwent a complex political development,
punctuated by internecine strife. The continuing turbulence gave the
commercial Medici family the opportunity gradually to impose its domination
(from 1434). Under Lorenzo de' Medici, known as "the Magnificent"
(1448-1492) Florence reached the zenith of its artistic, cultural, and
political development - though not in the economic realm, which had its apogee
in the previous century.
After various conflicts - which saw the Medici twice expelled - the family
prevailed in 1530, and in 1569 Pope Pius V named them grand-dukes of Tuscany,
a title reflecting the extension of their rule over most of the province. The
seventeenth and eighteenth were centuries of decline. Only with the reign of
Peter Leopold of Habsburg-Lorraine (1765-1790) did Florence begin to recover
culturally ' and economically.
Having revolted in 1859, in the following year Florence joined the new Kingdom
of Italy, serving as capital from 1865 to 1871. Through the nineteenth and a
large part of the twentieth century Florence was one of Italy's most important
cultural centers, dense in literary, artistic, and publishing activities.
Industrial development was centered in nearby Prato, permitting the historic
center of Florence to be preserved.
Homosexuality in Repute and
in Law. More than Venice, which has attracted many historians
today, it was Florence that enjoyed the reputation, both in Italy and abroad,
of being excessively "tolerant" of homosexual conduct. This renown is
attested by the Middle High German verb florenzen,
"to
sodomize." And St. Bernardino of Siena ¡1380-1444), preaching on May 23,
1425 against sodomy, lamented that "You cannot leave Tuscany without
being reproached twelve times a day that here we never punish such a
vice."
In reality Florentine laws (beginning with that of 1325) severely punished
sodomy, but in practice the authorities imposed the death penalty reluctantly,
preferring fines or corporal punishments of other types (including castration).
Capital punishment, as far as present knowledge goes, was reserved for cases
of special gravity, such as rape, seduction of a small child, or public
scandal.
How much the death penalty was viewed as excessive by the Florentines can be
seen in a proposal advanced in a pamphlet of 1496 of Domenico Cecchi (ca.
1445-after 1514), who says that to make harsher the penalty against sodomites
one should amputate one testicle for each of the first two offenses; on the
third occasion the culprit should be locked up in a madhouse.
Nonetheless, Florence had a special court, that of theliffiziali di Notte (the
"Officers of the Night"), which was charged with the task of
monitoring and punishing homosexual acts. Exploration of the enormous quantity
of material contained in the Florentine state archives has only just begun.
Nonetheless, some of the documents of the Uffiziali di Notte have been studied
by the American scholar Michael Rocke. This research shows that most of the
penalties exacted were fines. The relative mildness of Florentine justice
helped to assure the denunciation of notorious sodomites, since the accuser
knew that he was unlikely to cause a person's death.
In this way one can see how in "tolerant" Florence the accusations
amounted to several thousand. Thanks to this option of mild, but systematic
repression (instead of severe, but sporadic), Florentine society succeeded in
keeping homosexual behavior under control, despite the existence of a popular
culture that regarded it indulgently, especially if the culprits were
adolescents. Among the names of famous persons accused of sodomy under this
system were Leonardo da Vinci, Sandro Botticelli, and Benvenuto Cellini (who was twice
condemned).
The Homosexual Subculture of
the Renaissance. The existence of a real subculture, and not simply of
isolated acts, is confirmed by numerous sermons preached by the above mentioned
Bernardino of Siena in the years 1424 - 27. In these texts Bernardino mentions
various privileged places where sodomites met, especially taverns and pastry
shops, noting the hours of the night preferred by the sodomites, those
"wild pigs," in their search for sexual partners.
Niccoló
Machiavelli,
in a letter of February 25,1514, to his friend Francesco Vettori, amused
himself by recalling street by street the path of a common friend in nocturnal
quest of a boy. Among the locales noted are Borgo Santo Apostólo, Calimala Francesca, and II
Tetto de' Pisani.
The prevailing pattern of this subculture is the same as that known for other
Italian cities of the period: the sodomite couple consists of an adult, who
takes the role of the insertor, and an adolescent, who is the insertee. The
availability of adolescents for prostitution was decisive for maintaining the
subculture; Rocke has calculated that in the period ca. 1478-83 ten percent of
all Florentine boys had to appear before the authorities charged with sodomy.
The same author notes also that those accused of sodomy included a conspicuous
number of bachelors and recidivists, whom it is probably correct to describe
as having a "deviant lifestyle."
This phase of relative tolerance saw also the flowering of a notable amount of
literature on the homosexual theme, authored by both homosexuals and heterosexuals,
and written either in standard Italian or in Burchiellesque jargon. With
Marsilio Ficino there was also an idealized, socially acceptable (though
chaste) version of the love between two men.
Post-Renaissance
Developments. The period following the Renaissance, in which Florence
fell into decline, has not yet been the object of special study. Certainly the
Counter-Reformation and the definitive return to power of the Medici dynasty
fostered an atmosphere of gloomy moralism and puritanism, which discouraged
writing about homosexuality so that there is a "blackout" in the
written records of almost two centuries.
Still, indirect light is shed on this period by biographical gossip concerning
the last two rulers of the Medici house compiled by Luca Ombrosi in the eighteenth
century and published under the title of Vita dei Medici sodomiti. Grand-Duke Gian Gastone
(1671-1737) was a notorious homosexual and he died without issue, ending the
Medici Une. There is also the semiserious invective, Delia Vita e costumi de' fiorentini, of Francesco Moneti
(1635-1712), who accused his fellow citizens of being too much given to unnatural
love. These texts document the persistence of widespread male prostitution and
a degree of tolerance for homosexual conduct.
In the eighteenth century Ferdinando IE, of the new ruling house of
Habsburg-Lorraine, was one of the first European sovereigns to accept the
Enlightenment ideas concerning the crime of sodomy; in 1795 he abolished the
death penalty.
In the nineteenth century Florence became part of the grand tour of homosexual
travelers from northern Europe, though it was less popular than such cities as
Venice, Naples, and Rome. Still by the end of the century a small colony of
foreign gay and lesbian residents, mainly English speaking, had formed. The
persisting tolerance is shown by the indulgence always enjoyed by the noted
Florentine versifier Tommaso Sgricci (1786-1836), of whom Byron remarked in
1820: "He is also a celebrated Sodomite, a character by no means so much
respected in Italy as it should be; but they laugh instead of burning, and the
women talk of it as a pity in a man of talent."
In the twentieth century Florence saw a fervent cultural flowering, to which
such homosexuals as the writers Carlo Emilio Gadda (1893-1973), Piero Santi
(1912- ), Aldo Palazzeschi (1885-1974), and the painter Ottone Rosai
(1893-1957) contributed. The present scene in Florence is characterized by a
special concentration of leather locales, which attract homosexuals from other
northern Italian cities, as well as foreigners.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
Michael Goodich, The Unmentionable Vice, Santa Barbara, CA: Ross-Erickson,
1979; Luigi Greci, "Benvenuto Cellini nei delitti e nei processi
fiorentini, ricostruiti attraverso le leggi del tempo," Archiviodi antropologia
criminale, 50 (1930), 342-85, 509-42; Michael Rocke, "Sodomites
in Fifteenth-Century: The Views of San Bernardino of Siena," Journal of Homosexuality, 16(1988), 7-31.
Giovanni Dall'Orto
Flower Symbolism
In
classical antiquity the theme of picking flowers represented enjoyment of
life's transient pleasures, which must be gathered before they fade: the came diem motif. For many cultures
the budding of plant life in spring represents nature's resplendent, but ever
temporary self-renewal. Ancient pederasts wrote poignantly of the anthos, or "bloom" of
the adolescent sex object destined to fade all too soon.
The idea that specific flowers have meanings, that there is a "language of
flowers," seems to derive from Turkish eighteenth-century practice, when
flowers served to make up a secret code for love messages in the harem. This
concept of the selam,
a flower
code able to express a range of meanings, spread to western Europe, so that by
1820 Victor Hugo spoke of "doux messages oü l'amour parle avec des fleurs!" In 1884 Kate
Greenaway summed up Victorian lore on the subject in her book The Language of Flowers. One dialect she did not
present was the homosexual one, which was then known to a very small group. In
1894Robert Hichens' novel, The
Green Carnation, popularized that flower as the distinguishing mark of the
aesthete, though the Wilde scandals in the following year led quickly to the
abandonment of that particular badge. Of course flowers featured prominently
in the interior-decoration schemes of the Arts and Crafts Movement and they
were central to the fin-de-siecle imagery of the Art Nouveau in design and the
minor arts.
The association of pansies with male homosexuals is documented in America as
early as 1903. Dressing up in overelegant fashion may be called pansying up,
while an effeminate boy may be called pansified. Other flowers that have been
associated with male homosexuality are lilies and daffodils (the latter is jocular).
The use of violets as a gift in Edouard Bourdet's play The Captive, a major event of the 1926
Broadway season, caused an association of this flower with lesbianism that
lasted several decades.
The slang term for the act of several persons having sexual intercourse with
each other simultaneously is a daisy chain. While such a gathering might be
heterosexual, the usual interpretation is that of a male-homosexual orgy.
The reasons for the floral metaphor are various. Botanically, flowers have
both male and female organs of reproduction. In the early nineteenth century
the study of this phenomenon led to the creation of the term bisexuality,
though it is doubtful whether this recognition had much direct impact on the
popular imagination. Flowers assume complex shapes and colors as a means of
passive sexual attraction, since they lure insects who will bear their pollen
to their partners. Then too they often have a scent, something to which
homosexuals are allegedly addicted.
In Greek mythology the death of heroes could give rise to flowers and other
plants. Especially touching is the story of the lovers Calamus and Carpus. When
the latterwas accidentally drowned, Calamus, inconsolable in his grief, found
solace in being changed to a reed. Then the beautiful youth Narcissus, having
spumed the love of a nymph, was caused by the goddess Aphrodite to feel
unquenchable love for himself. At length he gained relief by being turned into
the flower that still bears his name. As noted, the ancient Greeks described
the bloom of a teenaged boy as the anthos, "blossom, flower," a term which captures not only
the rosy glow of youthful beauty but its transience.
In our society flowers, because of their delicacy and beauty, are most often
given by a man to a women. Flower names, such as Blossom, Camille, Daisy, Lily,
and Petunia, are given only to women (though at one time they were assumed by
gay men as "camp names"). The adjective florid means ornate and
excessive; it can also describe an advanced stage of disease. Finally, flowers
can be raised in hothouses to assume striking, even bizarre shapes and colors.
They represent the triumph of culture over nature, a principle that also serves
to buttress our society's stereotype of the homosexual.
See also Color Symbolism.
BIBLIOGRAPHY. Philip Knightly, Flower Poetics in Nineteenth-Century France, Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1986.
Wayne R. Dynes
Folklore, Gay Male
Traditional
aspects of culture - learned behavior - that are generally passed on orally or
by example instead of through writing are usually classified as folklore. All
people, regardless of education and social status, have many types of folklore.
Often this is divided into such broad categories as oral tradition, nonverbal
communication, and material culture. Each of these concepts can be further
broken down into genres - specific types of folklore.
Homosexual men have developed a large number of traditions, including an argot
(a form of language used by people who wish not to be understood by outsiders),
jokes, legends, personal experience narratives, clothing and jewelry used as
symbols, and a type of behavior known as "camp."
Language and Humor. The language used by some
homosexual men is quite developed, and it is much more enduring than slang. The
words and phrases cover a range of subjects; the largest group is made up of
words used to describe various types of people. For example, queen is a
standard term some homosexual men use to refer to themselves and others; it can
be used derogatorily or as a term of endearment, a sort of affectionate insult.
This term is frequently used in compounds, like "flaming queen";
"flaming" means "carrying on in a blatantly effeminate
manner" and is probably derived from "flamboyant." Some gay
expressions have entered the general vocabulary, most notably "to come
out of the closet" and the word gay itself, as referring to sexual orientation.
Such a colorful language commonly results in puns and other types of word play.
Humor is one of the hallmarks of the folklore of homosexual men. The most
familiar genre of humor is the joke. The following riddling question shows how
jokes can carry messages: "How many psychiatrists does it take to change a
light bulb? - Only one, but the light bulb has to really want to change."
The joke is based on the stereotype that homosexual people are mentally ill and
in need of professional help, and that psychiatrists can "change"
them, making them heterosexual. But the punch line carries the subject further,
making the point that homosexual people are in control of their lives, and
psychiatrists cannot "change" them. By implying that gays do not want to change, this joke offers a psychological victory over
oppression.
Legends and
PersonalNarratives. Homosexual men also tell legends - stories that are told
as actual events; sometimes the tellers believe the stories, and in fact the
event described in a legend may have taken place. After countless retellings,
however, the legend has been associated with so many people, places, and times
that any facts it may contain cannot be verified. Often the story is told as
something that happened to a friend of a friend of the teller. A common legend
told by homosexual men is the following:
"This really happened to a friend of a friend of mine in Chicago. He went
into a tearoom [public rest room] and stuck his dick through the glory hole [a
hole cut through the partition between two stalls]. The guy on the other side
stuck a hatpin through it so he couldn't get out."
This legend is a cautionary tale, warning against anonymous and semipublic
sexual acts. It is ironic that this story reveals a substantial amount of
internalized homophobia; the theme of punishment for homosexual activity is
quite clear.
Another type of story people tell is the personal experience narrative. Stories
of this sort are not traditional in themselves, but the narrators have told
them so often that they have taken on a traditional structure. The most
familiar type of personal experience narrative among homosexual men is the
coming-out story, in which a man describes revealing his homosexuality to
someone (usually friends or family). Most gay men have more than one coming-out
story, since one comes out to different people at different times.
Nonverbal Expressiveness. Nonverbal communication
involves the use of gestures, clothing, symbols, jewelry, and the like to
convey messages about oneself. For example, some homosexual men wear black
leather to indicate an interest in sadomasochism; others may wear the same type
of outfit to project a macho image. A gay man might wear a necklace with a
pendant in the shape of the lower case Greek letter lambda, a symbol of gay liberation.
Another might wear a badge in the form of an inverted pink triangle as a symbol
of the oppression to which homosexual men and women are subjected. (During the
Holocaust the Nazis forced homosexual prisoners to wear inverted pink triangles.
Many thousands of these men, like millions of Jews, ultimately died in the
camps.)
Drag and Camp. Two types of gay men's
folklore, drag and camp, combine verbal and nonverbal behavior. Drag, or female
impersonation, although not practiced by most homosexual men, is widely
associated with gays, and drag shows are a common form of entertainment in some
gay bars.
Camp is widespread and widely misunderstood. Camp is an attitude, a style of
humor, an approach to situations, people, and things. The camp point of view is
assertively expressed through exaggeration and inversion, stressing form over
content, deflating pomposity, mocking pretension, and subverting values. Sometimes
(but certainly not always) camp behavior is effeminate. Like much gay humor,
camp plays with stereotypes, carrying them to extremes, flouting heterosexual
values. Camp can be solely playful, but often it is a serious medium, providing
a weapon against oppression.
Camp is best understood through examples. In the spring of 1987, someone
stomped several goslings to death in an Indianapolis neighborhood that has a
large number of resident ducks and geese. Shortly thereafter, someone planted a
small cross beside the canal where the goslings had been killed. Reminiscent of
the crosses placed at the sites of fatal automobile accidents, the memorial in
this case implied - contrary to most Christian theologies - that animals have
souls and that the deaths of the goslings were the equivalent of human deaths.
Strategic Deployment of
Folklore. Homosexual men demonstrate a variety of strategies in their
use of folklore. Humor is pervasive. Ambiguity is also common, allowing covert
messages to be conveyed through the use of double meanings. If someone
receiving a message takes offense, the sender can protest innocence by
insisting that the receiver misunderstood. Since gay men were brought up in the
heterosexual culture, they have a background from which they can draw double
meanings.
In the following double
entendre, the ambiguity is rather obvious. Feeling his attempt at
finding a sexual partner for the evening to be futile, one man said,
"Well, I guess I'll go home and do something constructive, like
knit." Another man responded, "But you only have one needle."
The first replied, "So I'll crochet." The exchange was spontaneous
and the reactions were quick; nothing was laboriously thought out. The humor
goes a bit deeper than it first appears, for it plays upon the stereotype of
the effeminate homosexual male: both knitting and crocheting are associated
with women. A man with only one needle (or penis) cannot engage in a
cooperative endeavor like knitting, which requires two needles working
together. Thus he must make do with the equipment at hand: having but one
needle, he must crochet (masturbate). Since this encounter took place between
two men, each of whom knew the other was homosexual, and because it occurred
within a gay context, both intended meanings were clear to those who heard the
exchange. The two men were simply engaging in a bit of word play. Had the men
continued the conversation along similar lines, the double entendres could have
been used to lay the basis for a sexual proposition.
Inversion is a third strategem used by homosexual men. In taking words like
faggot that heterosexual people have used as tools of oppression and turning
them into statements of pride and defiance, gay men state their refusal to be
labeled as sick, immoral, and evil.
Conclusion. The folklore of homosexual
men functions in many ways - as a means by which gays can identify and
communicate with one another without other people's awareness, as a tool to
help create a sense of "group" and belonging, and as a way of coping
with and expressing conflict. Most of all, folklore helps homosexual men gain
cultural competence, that is, to function as gay men with other gay men. As
long as schools, families, churches, and other institutions fail to fulfill
this role, folklore will continue to meet such needs.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
Joseph P. Goodwin, More Man than You'll Ever Be: Gay Folklore and
Acculturation in Middle America, Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1989; Bryan Keith
Knedler, "Performance and Power in the Gay Male Community," master's
thesis, Ohio State University, 1983; Venetia Newall, "Folklore and Male Homosexuality,"
Folklore 97:2 (1986), 123^7; Bruce
Rodgers, Gay Talk: A (Sometimes Outrageous) Dictionary of Gay Slang,
New York:
Paragon Books, 1979.
Joseph P. Goodwin
Folklore, Lesbian
Lesbian
folklore is the collection, documentation, and analysis of the traditional
cultural products and experiences of lesbians learned through face-to-face
interaction and through observation and imitation. The following presentation
utilizes examples of contemporary American lesbian folklore collected by the
author from a cross-section of the Bloomington, Indiana lesbian-feminist
community during the first half of 1988. Bloomington, a small Midwestern town
and home of Indiana University, is a "gay mecca" because of the
large homosexual population.
Bloomington lesbians belong to three lesbian communities: national, regional,
and local. Within the local lesbian community diverse groups exist such as
factory dykes, academic dykes, and bar dykes. It is within these informally
structured community networks that the majority of lesbian folklore exists.
That folklore can be classified into three categories: verbal folklore (oral),
customary folklore (verbal and non-verbal), and material folklore (artifacts).
VerbalFolklore. One particularly fertile
area in this realm is folk speech, including a specialized vocabulary and
expressions which are circulated by word of mouth within the folk group. Folk
terminology utilized by lesbians is vast .Dyke, formerly a derogatory term, is
now a reclaimed term of pride. Numerous derivations of dyke exist: "baby
dyke," "blazer dyke," "psychodyke" (in therapy),
"execudyke" (yuppie), "softballdyke,"
"back-to-the-land-dyke," and "the dyke of life"
(stereotypical lesbian). Formalized phrases also make liberal use of the word
dyke: "it was dykes for days" means seeing a lot of dykes, especially
in unexpected places such as the grocery store. "Dyke detector" means
picking out another lesbian. Another example is the term "queer,"
which can be comfortably spoken in a group of lesbians, thus serving as a
camaraderie word. The traditional toast "cheers for queers" shows the
friendly way queer can be used in an in-group context.
The lesbian lexicon contains a wealth of other folk speech items: initialized
terms such as "p.i." (politically incorrect), "d.p." (dyke
potential), and "p.h.d." (pretty heavy dyke); expressions to refer to
outsiders (heterosexuals) such as "hets" and "breeders";
and word play such as "no homo" (when someone is not home when the
phone rings), "forward gaily" (when giving directions), and
"straightening up" (the house). One fascinating area of folk speech
concerns coding or the way one lesbian communicates information when lesbian
identity is concealed. "She goes to my church" (she's a lesbian) is a
phrase of black lesbians. Folk speech demarcates the lesbian community's
uniqueness and separateness. Use of folk speech helps maintain group
solidarity.
Personal experience narratives are a significant part of many lesbians' repertoire.
These stories are about an experience in the narrator's own life that one
recounts frequently. Two types of personal experience narratives in the
Bloomington lesbian community are "comingt: normal;" lang="EN-US">One particularly fertile
area in this realm is folk speech, including a specialized vocabulary and
expressions which are circulated by word of mouth within the folk group. Folk
terminology utilized by lesbians is vast .Dyke, formerly a derogatory term, is
now a reclaimed term of pride. Numerous derivations of dyke exist: "baby
dyke," "blazer dyke," "psychodyke" (in therapy),
"execudyke" (yuppie), "softballdyke,"
"back-to-the-land-dyke," and "the dyke of life"
(stereotypical lesbian). Formalized phrases also make liberal use of the word
dyke: "it was dykes for days" means seeing a lot of dykes, especially
in unexpected places such as the grocery store. "Dyke detector" means
picking out another lesbian. Another example is the term "queer,"
which can be comfortably spoken in a group of lesbians, thus serving as a
camaraderie word. The traditional toast "cheers for queers" shows the
friendly way queer can be used in an in-group context.
The lesbian lexicon contains a wealth of other folk speech items: initialized
terms such as "p.i." (politically incorrect), "d.p." (dyke
potential), and "p.h.d." (pretty heavy dyke); expressions to refer to
outsiders (heterosexuals) such as "hets" and "breeders";
and word play such as "no homo" (when someone is not home when the
phone rings), "forward gaily" (when giving directions), and
"straightening up" (the house). One fascinating area of folk speech
concerns coding or the way one lesbian communicates information when lesbian
identity is concealed. "She goes to my church" (she's a lesbian) is a
phrase of black lesbians. Folk speech demarcates the lesbian community's
uniqueness and separateness. Use of folk speech helps maintain group
solidarity.
Personal experience narratives are a significant part of many lesbians' repertoire.
These stories are about an experience in the narrator's own life that one
recounts frequently. Two types of personal experience narratives in the
Bloomington lesbian community are "coming out" stories and humorous
tales of lesbian life. Coming-out stories are the best known of all lesbian narratives
and are so firmly ingrained into lesbian culture that a lesbian may request
another lesbian to share her coming-out story. Coming-out stories are now
available in printed form. Two collections are The Coming Out Stories edited by Julia Stanley
and Susan Wolfe and Testimonies:
A Collection of Coming Out Stories, edited by Sarah Holmes. Each lesbian's story is unique and
chronicles the transitional stage of a lesbian's life when she solidifies her
lesbian identity to herself and to others. Since coming-out is a process, many
lesbians have several coming-out stories. Telling and retelling one's
coming-out story or stories serves to reinforce one's lesbian identity.
Humorous tales of lesbian life are experiences after one has established her
identity. Common themes in these humorous tales are: visiting parents, especially
during holidays; asking another woman for a date; detailing of a situation
where the lesbian is for the first time being open with non-lesbians failing to
understand; situations in the workplace and ironic situations (e.g., a lesbian
teacher of sex education meeting a lesbian worker at Planned Parenthood). More
often than not the core of these humorous narratives points to the painful
aspects of living day-to-day as a lesbian in a homophobic world. Telling these
tales provides an avenue for the narrator and her audience to laugh at herself
and lesbian life.
Customary Folklore. This area encompasses both
verbal and non-verbal traditions. Customary folklore can be found within
celebrations and festivals. Within the lesbian community, relationships provide
a framework for the creation and perpetuation of celebratory customs. One
celebration frequently observed is the anniversary, acknowledging the day a
couple made love for the first time; the celebration serves as a marker for the
longevity of the relationship. Anniversary celebrations are private, quiet
times. Many couples go out to dinner or make a special dinner at home and
exchange gifts. When a major relationship landmark has been reached, such as
the fifth anniversary, a couple may have a big party.
Joinings or bondings are another relationship celebration with traditional
customs which, although not legally recognized, acknowledge the couple's pairing.
A local park or other natural setting is a frequently chosen site for a
bonding. A couple write their own vows and may exchange rings. Following the
ceremony food (including vegetarian selections), music (women's), and games
(volleyball is a favorite) may complete the celebration. One relatively new
addition to the lesbian community's expanding list of celebrations is baby
showers, as more and more lesbian couples choose to have children.
Lesbian-feminist community values are reflected in these folk celebrations and
customs.
Festival season (summer) is many a lesbian's favorite time of year. Strength
and energy gained during "festi's" helps one get through the rest of
the year. In the Midwest, two festivals are frequented: The National Women's
Music Festival and the Michigan Womyn's Music Festival. Festivals bring
together diverse groups of lesbians as well as a few heterosexual women. When
in progress, festivals become temporal lesbian communities. Over the years
(both mentioned festivals are now in their teens) a variety of customs have
developed. It is customary, for example, to make sure that the festivals are
accessible to women with disabilities. Sign-language interpreters for women who
are deaf or hearing impaired are provided for major concerts and for other
activities upon request. At the concerts it is becoming customary for
performers to recognize interpreters in a lovingly humorous way, behavior which
brings loud applause from the audience. These annual music festivals with
their attending customs hold special signficance for lesbians as times to
escape the daily oppression of a homophobic culture and as times to celebrate
one's lesbianism communally.
Material Culture. Among the tangible objects
of material culture are items of folk costume. In pre-feminist days describing
a lesbian folk costume was a relatively simple matter, as several older
Bloomington lesbians recalled. Plaid flannel shirts or work shirts, bib
overalls or jeans, and heavy work boots were standard pieces of apparel. A
lesbian might wear a pinky ring (a symbol of one's lesbian identity recognized
by other lesbians) and cut her hair short (Ann Bannon's novels about Beebo
Brinker and Lee Lynch's novel Swashbuckler
are
excellent sources for learning about clothing styles in the 1950s and 60s).
With the advent of feminism in the 1970s folk costume became more diversified.
Shirts are cotton or other natural fibers commonly worn open at the neck to
show off one's woman-identified jewelry (especially at lesbian community
events). A more tailored style - not a lot of frills - is appropriate for
shirts. T-shirts often display sayings. Lesbian sayings such as "I got
this way from kissing girls" may be worn at lesbian events. For everyday
wear good "lefty" sayings are usual choices. Most selected color
choices are lavender, purple, or bright colors, not pastels. Pants can be
jeans, tailored slacks, or baggy pants. Again, natural fibers and no pastel
colors are the rule.
Shoes should be flat and comfortable, made of good quality material, especially
leather. Tennis shoes, especially high-tops, are popular style choices. One
comic note which points to the prevalence of comfortable shoe use can be
gleaned from Robin Williams' movie Good
Morning, Vietnam. At one point during one of his A.M. radio broadcasts he
says: "We can't even use the word dyke, you can't even say the word
lesbian. It's women in comfortable shoes." Much lore surrounds
Birkenstocks, including the belief that there is a good chance that a woman who
wears Birkenstocks is a lesbian.
Favorite jewelry choices are crystals (unpolished) and woman-identified
jewelry such as a labrys (double ax) or a double women's symbol. Cowrie shells
woven into the hair are favored by many black lesbians. The primary lesbian community
value expressed in how and what clothing and adornments are worn is comfort.
Conclusion. There are also other forms
of lesbian folklore: legends, jokes, arts, crafts, and the like. Other regions
of the United States would provide additions to and variations of the examples
given. Imbedded within lesbian books are wonderful samples of lesbian
folklore. The grassroots newsletter Lesbian
Connection is another rich source of lesbian folklore. On the academic
side several ethnographies give descriptions of lesbian communities. Lesbian
archives located throughout the United States house primary data collections
(letters, diaries, photographs, and the like) which contain f olkloric information.
Lesbians should be encouraged to preserve their heritage by donating documents
to archives and by interviewing friends and donating tapes.
Aside from a few papers read at the American Folklore Society's annual meetings
in the 1980s, folkloristic analysis of lesbian material is non-existent. By
not including data about lesbians within folklore scholarship, a heterocentric
bias has been allowed to permeate the scholarship. When lesbian data are part
of folkloric definitions and theories, they will add to a better understanding
of America, its folklore, and American lesbian culture.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
Susan Krieger, The Minor Dance: Identity in a Woman's Community, Philadelphia: Temple
University Press, 1983; Denyse Lockard, "The Lesbian Community: An Anthropological
Approach," loumal of Homosexuality 2:3 (1985), 83-95; Gail
Sausser, Lesbian Etiquette, Trumansburg, NY: Crossing Press, 1986; Deborah Goleman
Wolf, The
Lesbian Community, Berkeley: University of California Press, 1979.
Ian Laude
Forster, E[dward] M[organ] (1879-1970)
English
novelist, short story writer, and essayist. Forster's father died less than two
years after his birth, and he was raised by a group of female relatives, who
were connected with a stern evangelical sect. When he was ten, a great-aunt
left him a legacy, which permitted him to obtain a good private education and
to attempt a career as a writer. Forster detested public school, but found
King's College, Cambridge, by contrast almost a paradise. Among students and
faculty the atmosphere was strongly homoerotic, and Forster developed an
intense Platonic relationship with another undergraduate, H. O. Meredith, whom
he later was to depict as "Clive" in Maurice.
Forster's
sensibility took shape under the guidance of teachers of Hellenist bent,
especially Goldsworthy Lowes Dickinson, and under the influence of the ethics
of personal integrity that stemmed from the philosopher G. E. Moore. In 1901 Forster
was elected to the elite secret society at Cambridge, The Apostles, leading to
close ties with such other members as John Maynard Keynes and Lytton Strachey.
Uncertain what course to follow after graduation, he sojourned for a year in
Italy with his mother. Not only did he find his vocation as a writer there, but
he came to cherish to the end of his life a somewhat idealized concept of
Mediterranean tolerance and "earthiness" in contradistinction to
the Protestant uprightness and commercialism of his native England.
Returning to London in 1902 he affirmed his belief in reducing class barriers
by teaching a course at the Working Men's College, a part-time commitment he
would retain for over twenty years. Four novels followed in quick succession: Where Angels Feared to Tread (1905), The Longest Journey (1907), A Room with a View (1908), and Howards End (1910). This brilliant
debut secured him fame and membership in the exclusive Bloomsbury group.
Critical of Edwardian pieties, the novels adhere to an individualistic ethics
of psychic integration and fulfilment through interpersonal relationships.
Although in retrospect elements of male-bonding are evident, all these novels
deal with heterosexuality.
In July 1914 Forster completed the first draft of a homosexual novel, Maurice. Realizing that it was not
publishable in the England that had persecuted Oscar Wilde, he shared the
manuscript only with a few friends, including D. H. Lawrence, who chose it as
the model for his heterosexual Lady
Chatterley's Lover. Forster last revised Maurice in 1960, but it was not
published until after his death, in 1971. After completing Maurice Forster felt that his
novel writing was over, as he had exhausted his insights into heterosexual
relationships and would not be allowed to publish about those that affected
him most deeply.
In 1915 he went to Alexandria in Egypt with the Red Cross. There he came to
know the great modem Greek poet Constantine Cavaf y, whose work he helped to
publicize. He also met a young tram conductor, Mohammed el Adl, with whom he
enjoyed his first satisfactory sexual relationship. After Forster returned to
England, El Adl died (1922).
Forster's connection with India began earlier, in 1906, when he met a handsome
young Indian in England, Syed Ross Masood. Forster then visited the
subcontinent in 1912-13 in the company of G. Lowes Dickinson. In 1921-22 he
served as private secretary to the Maharajah of Dewas State Senior. During this
period he gathered the material for his novel, A Passage to India, which on publication in
1924 was acclaimed his masterpiece. Offering a sharp critique of British
imperialism, the novel nonetheless portrays human connections as possible even
across national and class lines.
Having resettled in England for good, in 1927 he gave the Clark Lectures at
Trinity College, Cambridge, which were published as Aspects of the Novel. He became concerned with
civil liberties, and in the following year he rallied public opinion to protest
the suppression of the lesbian novel of Radclyffe Hall, The Well of
Loneliness. The most significant personal event of this period was
Forster's friendship with the heterosexual police constable, Bob Buckingham,
which lasted for the rest of his life.
In 1946, forced to leave his ancestral home at Abinger, he accepted an offer
to become an honorary fellow at King's College Cambridge, where he lived for
the rest of his life. After 1924 he wrote no further novels, j ust reviews and
essays, but the five that he had published in the first quarter of the century
sufficed to secure his reputation as a novelist. As he had feared, however, the
posthumous appearance of Maurice
(1971),
even in the liberal climate of the "sexual revolution," caused a
furor. Several critics who had formerly admired his work now began to speak of "homosexual bias,"
and the novel was generally relegated to an inferior place outside the canon of
his major works.
These criticisms are unjustified. While Maurice
is not
flawless, it is certainly as good as his first four novels. Forster's
homosexual novel falls into two parts. In the first, the impressionable hero is
under the domination of the highminded, but insubstantial Platonism of his Cambridge
friend, Give; in the second, he comes to find his true destiny with a
working-class boy, the gamekeeper at Clive's estate with whom he then elopes
"into the greenwood." Although this ending has struck some readers as romantic and unlikely, it
is modeled on the successful life of Edward Carpenter, who ran a farm together
with his proletarian lover, George Merrill. With minimal changes, the film
version released by the Ivory-Merchant-Jhabvala team in 1987 emerged as fully
credible.
In his novels Forster was a conservative modernist, with roots in the social
comedy of Victorian times, but also showing affinities with the work of his
friends D. H. Lawrence and Virginia Woolf. Although the revelation of Forster's homosexuality
diminished him in the eyes of some critics, his f amiliarity with the ideas of
the early homosexual rights movement was actually a source of strength. He succeeded
in translating the insights of Carpenter, John Addington Symonds, and others
into universal terms, and for this all his readers should be grateful.
BIBLIOGRAPY.
P. N. Furbank, E. M. Förster: A Life, New York: Harcourt Brace
Jovanovich, 1978; Claude J. Summers, E. M. Forster, New York: Frederick Ungar, 1983.
Wayne R. Dynes
Foucault, Michel (1926-1984)
French
historian and social philosopher. After completing his university work, Foucault was active in the French
cultural services in a number of European cities. His first major book was Folie et déraison: histoire de la fohe à
l'âge classique (Paris, 1964; translated only in an abbreviated version: Madness and Civili-zation, New York, 1967). This
monograph shows Foucault's characteristic ability to frame bold historical
hypotheses and to give them literary form in gripping set pieces. As the
audience for his work grew, however, more conventional historians began to flag
gaps between evidence and inference.
Developing his ideas further, Foucault advanced the guiding concept of "archeology," the
notion that western civilization had seen a succession of distinct eras, each
characterized by its particular "episteme," or style of thinking. He
then extended the scope of his investigation into clinics and prisons; as
"total institutions" these sites display in concentrated form the
strategies of social surveillance and subjugation that regulated the whole
society. Foucault's work in the 1960s was often viewed as structuralist, but
he denied this affiliation. Although he was out of France at the time, he was
deeply marked by the Paris uprising of May 1968, which created a general
climate of activism; in Foucault's case this commitment found expression in
concern for prisoners, mental patients, the Afghan rebels, and human rights
generally.
The 1970s saw him increasingly involved with the problem of power, which he
perceived as universally diffused though not in very different measures. The
modem state in particular has learned to harness to its purposes such bodies
of knowledge as medicine and the social sciences, which serve to colonize and
subjugate the individual. The individual can confront this phalanx of
domination with only a stubborn recalcitrance. At this time the concept of
archaeology yielded to the more corrosive and dynamic "genealogy," derived
from Friedrich Nietzsche, probably the most important influence on Foucault's
later thought. His increasing iconoclasm and skepticism led him to deny that
historical record yields any evidence of a stable human subject, of a human
"condition," or of human "nature."
In the mid-70s he turned to the matter of sexuality, issuing a programmatic
statement in 1976 {La
Volonté de savoir,
Paris,
1976; translated as The
History of Sexuality, vol. I, New York, 1978).
The five volumes that were to succeed this little book, treating the early
modem period and the recent past, never appeared. Yet at the end of his life
he surprised the world with two successor volumes with a different subject
matter: the management of sexuality in ancient Greece and Rome.
While completing these books he was already gravely ill, a fact that may
account for their turgid, sometimes repetitive presentation. In June 1984
Michel Foucault died in Paris of complications resulting from AIDS.
In some ways a quintessential Parisian intellectual, Foucault obtained
remarkable success also in the English-speaking world. On several occasions he
taught at the University of California at Berkeley. Although he was wary of
being identified as a homosexual thinker tout court, he made no bones about his
orientation, and could sometimes be found in the leather bars south of Market
Street in San Francisco.
It is not surprising that scholars of homosexuality should be attracted to
Foucault's work, since apart from its (nonexclusive) focus on sexuality it accorded
with several aspects of the spirit of the times. Discontent with the systems of
Marx and Freud and their contentious followers had nonetheless left an appetite
for new "megatheories," which the Anglo-Saxon pragmatic tradition was
unable to satisfy. Foucault's thought was both ambitious and critical. Moreover,
he attacked the oppression model, which saw the shaping of sexual minorities
as merely a function of negative social pressures, while at the same time he
denied that there was such a thing as a transhistorical homosexual, an
invariant building block of social typology. In particular Foucault was
influential among a group of gay and lesbian historians who rallied to a
program called Social Construction. This approach sees human beings and their
sexuality as artefacts of the spirit of the age in which they live. Social
Construction also detects sharp breaks, "ruptures," from one era to
another. This concept of discontinuity was all the more welcome as the ground
had been prepared by an influential American philosopher of science, Thomas
Kuhn, whose concept of radical shifts in paradigm had been widely adopted. In
vain did Foucault protest toward the end of his life that he was not the
philosopher of discontinuity; he is now generally taken to be such.
As has been noted, the influence of Foucault has been complex and ramifying.
Not since Jean-Paul Sartre had France given the world a thinker of such resonance.
Yet Foucault's work shows a number of key weaknesses. Not gifted with the
patience for accumulating detail that since Aristotle has been taken to be a
hallmark of the historian's craft, he often spun elaborate theories from scanty
empirical evidence. He also showed a predilection for scatter-gun concepts
such as episteme, discourse, difference, and power; in seeking to explain much,
these talismans make for fuzziness. Foucauldian language has had a seductive
appeal for his followers, but repetition dulls the magic and banalization
looms. More generally, Foucault found it hard to resist an anarchistic,
"anything goes" vision of historical change, which leaves unanswered
the question of why we are embedded in a temporal-cultural process from which
it is useless to try to escape. Methodologically, his relativism permits no
secure place from which to evaluate conf lictingtruth claims. Despite these
criticisms, there can be no doubt of Foucault's personal sincerity, and his
generosity toward those who sought to consult him. Refusing to be bound by the
somewhat rigid and old-fashioned training he had received in France, he boldly
sought to open new vistas of enquiry. The lesson of Foucault then is his quest,
rather than the particular points at which he arrived in his relatively short
creative life.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
Michael Clark, Michel
Foucault: An Annotated Bibliography, New York: Garland, 1983; J. G. Merquior, Foucault, London: Fontana, 1985.
Wayne R. Dynes
Fourier, Charles (1772-1837)
French Utopian philosopher and sexual
radical. Fourier spent much of his life in Lyon, trapped in a business world
which he hated with a passion. Disillusioned in childhood by the dishonesty
and hypocrisy of the people around him, he gradually formulated an elaborate
theory of how totally to transform society in a Utopian world of the future known
as Harmony, in which mankind would live in large communes called Phalansteries.
Fourier hid his sexual belief s from his contemporaries, and it was more than a
century after his death before his main erotic work, Le nouveau monde amouieux, was first published. He
was "modern" in many of his sexual attitudes, believing in the
overthrow of traditional morality and universal replacement of this morality
with a restrained and elegant promiscuity for everyone over the age of sixteen.
He did not believe that anyone under sixteen had any sexual feelings, nor did
he understand the psychology of sadism, pedophilia, or rape, so that his sexual
theories are not entirely suitable for modem experimentation. Moreover, he had
a bizarre belief that planets were androgynous beings that could and did
copulate. He was attracted heterosexually to lesbians, and although he called
pederasty "a depraved taste," he was tolerant of male homosexuals and
ephebophiles. He recognized male homosexuals and lesbians as biological categories
long before Krafft-Ebing created the modern concept of immutable sexual
"perversions."
Fourier called for a "sexual minimum," the right of everyone to
constant sexual gratification by means of teaching young people of both sexes
to commit the "saintly" act of sexually sacrificing themselves to
older people, rather like Lars Ullerstam's modern call for providing the poor
with free prostitutes at the taxpayers' expense.
Fourier, however, had no sympathy for "gutter" sex or for
promiscuity in the face of the threat of venereal diseases. He wanted these
diseases to be done away with before sexual liberation would be allowed. He
wrote some fictional episodes in the vein of William Beckford, one of which
describes the seduction of a beautiful youth by an older man.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
Jonathan Beecher and Richard Bienvenu, trans, and ed., The Utopian Vision of
Charles Fourier, Boston: Beacon Press, 1971.
Stephen Wayne Foster
France
In its
present basic form ("the hexagon") France emerged from the territory
of the early Gauls and Franks during the central Middle Ages (1000-1270). Waves
of repression of homosexuality by church and state have never succeeded in
uprooting the homophile subculture, stifling the writing of erotic literature,
or preventing homosexuals from occupying high positions. French politics and
literature have exercised an incalculable influence on other countries, from
England to Quebec, from Senegal to Vietnam. Whether justified or not, a
reputation for libertine hedonism clings to the country, and especially to its
capital, Paris - by far the largest city of northern Europe from the twelfth
to the eighteenth centuries (when London surpassed it), making France a
barometer of changing sexual mores.
The Middle Ages. Little of the exuberant
homosexuality for which the ancient Celts, including the Gauls, were famed in
antiquity seems to have survived the Roman occupation, Christian conversion,
barbarian invasions, and finally the Frankish conquerors' adoption of Catholicism
with its moral theology that pilloried as the "crime against nature"
allnonreproductive forms of sexual expression. The heavy-drinking later
Merovingians, descendants of the Frankish king Merovech and his grandson
Clovis, who conquered all Gaul, were barbarians who indulged their sensual
appetites freely. Lack of control allowed considerable sexual license to
continue into the more Christianized Carolingian period (late eighth-ninth
centuries), and probably to increase during the feudal anarchy that followed
the Viking invasions of the ninth and tenth, but in the eleventh century the
church moved to regulate private conduct according to its own strict canons.
The term sodomía,
which
appears in the last decades of the twelfth century, covered bestiality,
homosexual practices, and "unnatural" heterosexual relations of all
kinds. As early as the late eleventh century theologians associated what came
to be called sodomy with heresy and magic. Commentators on the Scriptures
grouped around Anselm of Laon, the most influential teacher of his day, linked
heresy and sodomy as forms of sacrilege both punishable by death.
Before 1200 Southern France became a stronghold of heretical sects known as
Cathars or Albigensians. Because of their similarity to the Bogomils of
Bulgaria they came to be stigmatized as bougres,
a term
that meant first "heretic" and then "sodomite." Charges of
sexual heterodoxy were brought against them by the Catholic authorities, who
claimed that unrestrained sexual hedonism was part of their cult. Popes
organized the Inquisition against them and invoked the bloody Albigensian
Crusade which devastated much of Languedoc, homeland of a sensual culture tinged by Moslem influences
from the south. The word itself survives to this day as English bugger, which in Great Britain, apart
from legal usage, remains a coarse and virtually obscene expression.
Paris, already the center of French academic and political life, had its trouvères who like the troubadours
of Languedoc
sang of
love - and its clandestine homoerotic subculture. About 1230 Jacques de Vitry denounced the
students at the Sorbonne for practicing sodomy, and in 1270 the poet Guillot in his Dit des rues de Paris cited the rue Beaubourg as a favorite cruising area for sodomites. Again in the
fifteenth century the poet Antonio Beccadelli alluded to the continued homosexual
practices of the intellectual community in Paris and the still-obscure jargon
poems of François
Villon
(b. 1431) have also been cited as evidence for that Parisian subculture.
Some feudal customaries and municipal ordinances punished sodomy. Politics have
occasioned accusations of sodomy in many epochs, none ever more notorious than
the trial of the entire order of Knights Templars, who were blamed for the fall
to the Moslems of Acre (1291), the last remnant of the crusader state in Palestine
and Syria. The first charges of sexual heterodoxy against the Templars date
from 1304 or 1305 in the Agen region of France. Many witnesses - some of whose
testimony is suspect because they had been expelled from the order for
misconduct or subjected to torture under examination - claimed that the order
tolerated as sinless "acts against nature" between members. Philip IV
of France pressured Pope Clement V to take action against the Templars, and by
October 13, 1307, the arrest of all Templars throughout France was ordered. For
the next several years, despite some conflict between secular and ecclesiastical
authority, hundreds of episcopal and royal tribunals tallied the wealth of the
order, gathered witnesses, heard testimony, and passed judgment. By 1314 the
dignitaries of the order were placed in perpetual imprisonment by the church
and executed by royal edict. The guilt of the Templars remains moot to this
day; while some may have been involved in homosexual liaisons, the political
atmosphere surrounding the investigation and the later controversy made
impartial judgment impossible.
A persistent fear of sexuality and a pathetic inability to stamp out its proscribed
manifestations, even with periodic burning of offenders at the stake and
strict regulations within the cloister, plagued medieval society to the end.
However, the medieval state was unable to concert the mass arrests and judicial
murders of homosexuals that were to occur in the eighteenth-century Netherlands.
The Renaissance. If the Italy of the
quattrocento saw the revival of the culture of classical antiquity - including
its open avowal of pederasty - in France homosexuality was long deemed a
caprice reserved to the nobility, the intellectual and artistic elite, and the
princes of the Church. To be sure, other classes are known to have been
involved, but their activity tended to be severely repressed. The notion of
homosexuality as the aristocratic vice took root and thrived into modern times,
though even this privileged minority did not enjoy absolute immunity from
prosecution.
At the court both male and female homosexuality could at times flourish. The
"flying squadron" of Catherine de' Medici was accused of lesbianism
by such contemporaries as Brantóme. Henri -'III was celebrated for his mignons, the favorites
drawn from the ranks of the petty nobility - handsome, gorgeously attired and
adorned adolescents and magnificent swordsmen ready to sacrifice their lives
for their sovereign. Although the king had exhibited homosexual tendencies
earlier in life, these became more marked after a stay in Venice in 1574. Yet
neither he nor the mignons scorned the opposite sex in their pursuit of
pleasure, and there is no absolute proof that any of this circle expressed
their desires genitally. Yet a whole literature of pamphlets and lampoons by
Protestants and by Catholic extremists, both of whom disapproved of the king's
moderate policy, was inspired by the life of the court of Henri IJJ until his
assassination in 1589.
The intellectual nonconformity of the last centuries of the Old Regime was
accompanied, or perhaps motivated, by a sexual nonconformity that found expression
in different modes. The amalgam of free thought and sodomy precisely mirrored
the medieval association of heresy and sodomy. The circle of
"libertine" poets whose work launched the great tradition of French
erotic verse included Denis Sanguin de Saint-Pavin, who so openly proclaimed
his fondness for Greek love that he earned the nickname "the King of
Sodom." For centuries his poems could circulate only in manuscript, where
many of them still await publication. Saint-Pavin's friend and fellow poet Théophile de Viau was also gay in his
life and writings.
Even the entourage of Cardinal Richelieu included the Abbé Boisrobert, patron of the
theatre and the arts, and founder of the French Academy, the summit of French
intellectual life. His proclivities were so well known that he was nicknamed
"the mayor of Sodom," while the king who occupied the throne, Louis
XIII, was surnamed "the chaste" because of his absolute indifference
to the fair sex and to his wife Marie de' Medici.
Under Louis XTV, who himself was strongly averse to homosexuality, the court
nevertheless had its little clique of homosexuals led by the king's brother
"Monsieur" (Philippe of Orléans), who may have inherited the tendency from their father Louis
XHI, if indeed he was their biological father. Despite France's long history of
homoeroticism, the king and his associates affected to believe that the practice
had been recently introduced from Italy. About 1678 the court homosexuals
formed a secret fraternity whose statutes provided for total abstinence from
women other than for the purpose of obtaining offspring and whose insignia
depicted a man trampling a woman underfoot in the manner of Saint Michael and
the devil. In 1681 the young Count de Vermandois, the son of Louis by Louise de La Vallière, applied for admission, but
so indiscreetly that the king learned of the order in 1682 and broke it up with
great severity. He sent for his prodigal son, had him whipped in his presence,
and then exiled him. The other members of the fraternity were in their turn
disgraced and driven from the court.
The Enhghtenment. In the eighteenth century
France became the center of the intellectual movement that was to challenge the beliefs of the Old
Regime and overthrow it. Critique of the morality and criminal legislation of
the past could not fail to include the medieval attitude toward "sodomy."
The very word sodomite faded from the usual vocabulary to be replaced by pédéraste or infame, the latter being the
designation preferred by the police. On the other hand, the Enlightenment
philosophes could never break fully with the earlier beliefs, in part because
they had no alternative sexual morality, and in part because they were aware of
the large number of homosexuals in the church, which they hated as the source
of the superstition and intolerance they opposed. In fact, a monastic setting characterizes
one of the best erotic novels of the eighteenth century, Gervaise de Latouche's L'Histoiie de Dom Bougre, portier des chartrenx (The History of Dom
Bougre, the Porter of the Carthusian Monks; 1742). In his posthumously
published novel La zeligieuse, Denis Diderot indicted convents as hothouses of lesbianism.
Despite the link between theological and sexual non-conformity, the
Enlightenment thinkers never perceived individuals with homosexual inclinations
as their allies. When they wrote on the subject of homosexual activity and the
attitude which the state should adopt toward it, it was either in terms of condemnation
as "unnatural," "infamous vice," "turpitude,"
"filthiness," or else as a peccadillo that had lost the aura of the
mephitic and diabolical in which medieval fantasy had enveloped it. At times
they could treat homosexual inclinations as the result of a "bad
habit" encouraged by the rigid segregation of the sexes in the educational
establishments of the Old Regime, or advocate a more rigorous "police des moeurs" that would
maintain the moral purity of the large cities. The practice of keeping a list
of known pederasts already existed; in Paris in 1725 it had 20,000 names, in
1783 40,000. However, with the Italian Cesare Beccaria the task of reforming the criminal law of the Old
Regime began, to be pursued by Voltaire and others who upheld the general
principle that crimes against religion and morality, when they violated the
rights of no third parties or the interests of society but were penalized
solely out of superstition and fanaticism, did not fall within , the purview
of civil law, until the French Revolution created a new code of laws in which
sodomy had no place.
This innovation, it is true, was effected quietly and almost without attracting
anyone's attention,- it was an act of omission rather than of commission. But
the criminal code enacted by the Constituent Assembly in September -October
1791 for the first time in modern history contained no penalties for homosexual
activity that did not entail the use of force or the violation of public
decency; and incorporated into the Code Napoleon of 1810, it became the model
for repeal of the medieval laws throughout the civilized world.
During the Revolution an anonymous pamphlet appeared entitled Les Enfans de Sodome á l'Assemblée Nationale (The Children of Sodom at
the National Assembly), proposing to ameliorate the lot of the homosexuals in
the name of the rights of man, and offering a Constitution in seven articles
which asserted that one could be both bougre et citoyen, "bugger and citizen." It contained a list of all
the members of the National Assembly who were accused or suspected of belonging
to the special interest group to which the title of the pamphlet refers. The
Revolution secured the release (though only for a time) of the imprisoned
pansexual writer and thinker, the Marquis D. A. F. de Sade, who carried the
transgressive strain in the Enlightenment to the ultimate limits of the
imagination.
From the
Restoration to World War 1.
While
French homosexuals were freed from the legal burdens of outlawry and infamy
which had been theirs under the Old Regime, society still forced them to lead a
clandestine existence, with cruising areas known only to the initiated, secret
gatherings and clubs - in short, they constituted in the nineteenth century a
"freemasonry of pleasure" that unobtrusively pursued its goals but
did not as yet claim to be a distinct sub-species of mankind. While conditions
were scarcely ideal, in the absence of a criminal code that made their
activities illegal the French homosexual subculture felt no need of a movement
that would assert its rights. France became a haven for Englishmen seeking
refuge from the far more intolerant law and public opinion of their own
country. Also, Paris was a publishing center where books banned in England
could be published and sold to British and American tourists.
Nineteenth-century France did see significant treatments of the homosexual
theme in literature, from the pornographic novella Gamiani (1833) by Alfred de Musset
to the realism of Balzac who included several gay characters in his panorama of
the France of the July monarchy, followed by Paul Verlaine, the lover of
Arthur Rimbaud and author of a number of classic poems on homosexual love and
Joris-Karl Huysmans, whose 1884 novel A reborns
(Against
the Grain) depicts the decadent sensuality of the fin-de-siecle. Joséphin Péladan celebrated androgyny in a
series of works under the general title La
decadence latine.
It is to
France that modem art and literature owe the whole "decadent" trend
that often included a display of overt homosexuality among the more
bohemian-inclined sectors of the artistic elite. To the theme of lesbianism
Pierre Louys devoted his Chansons
de Bilitis (1894), while Paris under the Third Republic became the
residence of little coteries of French and foreign intellectuals, including
Oscar Wilde, Natalie Barney, Djuna Barnes, Robert McAlmon, and Gertrude Stein,
and patrons of the arts who expressed their homosexuality in literature. This
foreign colony was to play a significant role in spreading a more open
discussion of the matter to the cultural life of other nations. But a political
movement aimed at "emancipation" of the homosexual did not develop.
The homosexual emancipation movement that began on the other side of the Rhine,
in Germany, after 1864 barely reached France, where after 1871 everything
German became suspect. In 1909 Jacques d'Adelsward Fersen published a few
issues of a journal entitled Akademos
in Paris.
The erotic literature that flourished in France in the early years of the
century abounded in lesbian themes, but only rarely treated male homosexuality.
Also, the psychiatric study of homosexuality that began in the German-speaking
countries reached France only in the 1880s, when Julien Chevalier published
first a dissertation and then (1893) a book entitled Une maladie
de la personnalité (A Disease of the
Personality). Several other French psychiatrists wrote on the subject, at times
in connection with other sexual "perversions," but two foreigners, Marc-André Raf f alovich, a Polish
Jew resident in England, and Arnold Aletrino, a Dutch Jew, were responsible for
the most important writings in French. The pages of the Lyon periodical Archives d'Anthropologie Criminelle from the years before the
First World War contain numerous contributions on the subject, among them
Raffalovich's eyewitness accounts of the trial of Oscar Wilde in London and the
Harden-Eulenburg affair in Berlin and Munich.
From the Interwar Period to
the Present. Not until after World War I did the public become aware of
the extent of homosexuality in French Ufe. The work that "broke the ice," the first part of
Marcel Proust's Sodome
et Gomorrhe (1921), featured the homosexual Baron de Charlus as a
member of the French aristocracy in the early years of the Third Republic. Then
Andre Gide, by publishing the set of essays entitled Corydon (1924), made homosexuality
a literary and political question that the salons could no longer ignore. Yet
the attempt to create a homosexual journal Inversions in 1924-25 ended when the
publisher was prosecuted and convicted. In the literary avant-garde Jean Cocteau devoted Le Livre blanc (1929) to an autobiographical
treatment of homosexuality, albeit anonymously, and contributed poetry, plays,
diaries, and drawings to the subject; beginning with Le Sang
d'un poète (1930) he added films to
his repertoire. The surrealist movement proved hostile to homosexuality, except
for René Crevel, who was openly gay.
Interwar Paris saw the number of resident foreigners multiply, and a colony of
expatriates, exiles
and émigrés, escaping the provincialism
and Puritanism of normalcy on the other side of the Atlantic established
itself. A few minor non-fiction works on homosexuality were published, never
approaching in volume the material issued in Germany under the Weimar Republic.
The fall of the Third Republic and the imposition of the Vichy regime saw a change
in the laws that had scarcely been altered since 1810. A new law of 1942,
promulgated by Pétain at the instigation of Admiral Darían, made homosexual acts with
an individual under the age of 21 criminal - a parallel to similar legislation
elsewhere. On the other hand, in occupied France Roger Peyrefitte completed the
writing of Les
Amitiés particulières (1943), a classic novel of homosexual attachment between
two boys at an exclusive Catholic boarding school that was later filmed (
1959). Peyrefitte's friendship - based on their joint quest of teen-aged boys -
with the closeted novelist Henry de Montherlant was only revealed after the latter's suicide (1971 ). The
postwar period, in which French law retained Pétain's innovation, did not alter
the general atmosphere, but witnessed significant developments.
Under the editorship of André Baudry, the homosexual monthly Arcadie was for many years after
1954 the most intellectual among the journals that promoted the gay cause. In
the face of the hostility of the De Gaulle regime the publication stood firm
and survived beyond his fall until the beginning of the 1980s. The novels of
Jean Genet, a former professional thief, treated male homosexuality with a
pornographic frankness and style rich in imagery unparalleled in world
literature. Genet enjoyed the patronage of the dominant intellectual of the
time, the heterosexual Jean-Paul Sartre, who also wrote about homosexuality in
other contexts. Heartened by his example, other writers in the 1950s and 1960s
broached the matter as public hostility diminished.
The sudden efflorescence of the gay movement in the United States after 1969
could not fail to affect France, which had already felt the impact of American
popular culture. A whole subculture inspired by the example of San Francisco
and New York sprang up, with bars, baths, political organizations, and a
pictorial magazine entitled Gai
Pied (first
issue: April 1979) that outdid the Los Angeles Advocate in splashing homoerotic
sensuality across its pages. The arrival in power of a socialist regime at the
end of the 1970s spelled the end of many of the barriers which the Gaullist
Fifth Republic had erected against the intrusion of such a minority as the
homosexual, and soon even a gay radio station, Frequence Gaie (subsequently renamed Future Generation), was broadcasting around
the clock. In 1981 the socialist government repealed the discriminatory law
that had been enacted by the Vichy regime, and the existence of a homosexual
minority was accepted as an unalterable fact by even the conservative parties
which regained much of their strength in the mid-1980s, if not by the church.
Innovations such as a computerized gay bulletin board - the Minitel - reached
France, but also the tragic incursion of AIDS (in French SIDA), spread in no small part
from Haiti and the United States. A flood of new publications ranging from
trivial and movement literature to serious investigations of the homosexual
aspects of France's own past showed that the Gallic spirit had its own
inimitable contribution to the homoerotic culture of the late twentieth
century. Even the provincial cities began to boast their own organizations;
periodicals, and rendezvous for the gay public. All are recorded in the Gai Pied
Hebdo Guide, published annually since 1983.
The political battles that had to be waged before courts and legislatures in
other countries to gain the minimum of legal toleration were spared the French
movement; its principal foe was the unenlightened public opinion surviving
from the recent past, but receding as the subject of homosexuality became an
everyday matter in the mass media. So France joined the ranks of those nations
with a politically conscious and culturally enterprising gay community.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
Gilles Barbedette and Michel
Carassou, Paris Gay 1925, Paris: Presses de la Renaissance, 1961; Jean Cavailhes, et al.. Rapport gai: enquête sur les modes
de vie homosexuelles en France, Paris: Persona, 1984; Claude Courouve, Vocabulaire de l'homosexualité masculine, Paris: Payot, 1985; D. A. Coward, "Attitudes toward Homosexuality in
Eighteenth-Century France," Journal of European Studies, 10 (1980), 231-55; Maurice
Lever, Les
bûchers de Sodome, Paris: Fayard, 1985.
Warren Johansson and William
A. Percy
Frederick II (1197-1250)
Hohenstaufen
king of Sicily and Holy Roman emperor (1212-1250). Called Stupor mundi (Wonder of the World) by
contemporaries, he was designated the "first modem man" by the Swiss
historian Jakob Burckhardt in his Civilization
of the Renaissance in Italy (1860). Son of the German Emperor Henry IV and Constance,
the Norman heiress of the Kingdom of Sicily, as well as grandson of the Emperor
Frederick Barbarossa, he was bom in the square in a small town in Southern
Italy, in full public view so that no one could doubt that his mother, old in
the estimation of contemporaries for a first conception, produced him. Orphaned
at the age of one and entrusted to the guardianship of Innocent III
(1198-1216), the most powerful of medieval popes, he actually grew up on the
streets of Palermo in Sicily, where he received a most unorthodox education,
learning Arabic and Greek as well as German, French, and Latin in that melting
pot of cultures.
When Frederick attained his majority he broke his promises to his now dead
guardian by failing to surrender the Sicilian crown, which included all of
Southern Italy up to the border of the Papal States, when he received the
crowns of Germany (1215) and of the Holy Roman Empire (1220), which included
all of Northern Italy down to the Papal States. Innocent's successors
excommunicated him when he also delayed his promised crusade. Frederick was the
only leader to crusade while excommunicated, but he recovered Jerusalem, which
Saladin had recaptured from the Christians, by negotiating with Saladin's
sophisticated nephew al-Kamil. When he returned he completed the reorganization
of Sicily, making it the first autocratic European monarchy, basing it on
Arab, Byzantine, and Norman models and Roman law precedents. He issued at Melfi
in 1231 the constitution known as the Liber
Augustalis, which remained in effect until 1860. He was then drawn into
the disastrous second Lombard war by the papacy that feared renewed imperial
domination more than before, now that Frederick's lands surrounded the papal
states. The struggle renewed the War of the First Lombard League (1162-1183)
that the popes had waged against his grandfather Barbarossa and the earlier
war of the Investiture Controversy (1076-1122) that Pope Gregory VQ had
launched against another of Frederick's relatives, Emperor Henry IV
(1050-1106), who has frequently been considered bisexual.
The Guelph allies of the Papacy captured one of Frederick's sons, Enzio, and
held him captive in a cage in Bologna for years, breaking the emperor's heart.
Later popes ordered the extermination of "that breed of vipers."
Charles of Anjou, brother of St. Louis of France, dutifully beheaded the last
of the line, Frederick's grandson Conradin and his noble Austrian companion in
the marketplace of Naples in 1268. Here to this date German tourists weep for
the fate of these royal youths, who were still adolescents and probably lovers.
Propagandists accused Frederick of keeping a harem and also of homosexual
sodomy - both Moslem practices. He supposedly blasphemed "Mankind has had
three great deceivers: Moses, Jesus, and Mohammed," a legend that underlay
the belief in the apocryphal Liber
de tribus impostoribus. At his court in Sicily
Frederick encouraged the beginning of Italian literature in the form of
troubadours, poets who copied the Provencal lyrics and inspired the Tuscans
and Dante. He himself composed outstanding love poems as well as what became
the standard text on falconry. Many medieval poets were homoerotic and some
modem scholars believe that courtly love with its unattainable ladies spurred
homosexual instincts and even acts among knights and squires.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
David Abulafia, Frederick II, a Medieval Emperor, London: Allen Lane, 1988;
Ernst Kantorowicz, Frederick the Second, 1194-1250, London: Constable, 1931.
William A. Percy
Frederick II (the Great) of Prussia (1712-1786)
Prussian
general and enlightened ruler of the eighteenth century. The son of the brutal,
anti-intellectual, homophobic, and fanatical Friedrich Wilhelm of Prussia,
Frederick was in his adolescence small and pretty, loved French literature and
art, wore French clothes and curled his hair. His relationship with his father
was hideous; almost every day of his life until he was eighteen Frederick was
beaten and verbally abused. At that time he decided to run away from home with
his dearest friend, Lieutenant Hans Hermann von Katte, who was eight years
older than Frederick, well-educated, a lover of the arts, and a freethinker.
Just what their sexual relationship was remains unknown, as Frederick took care
to destroy the evidence. The father discovered their plot and had them both
arrested; then, overruling the decision of the court-martial that had sentenced
Katte to life imprisonment, he ordered him beheaded and forced Frederick to
watch the execution. At the moment the sword fell on Katte's neck Frederick
fainted, and after regaining consciousness he hallucinated for a day and a
half.
Upon ascending to the throne of Prussia in 1740, he immediately displayed the
qualities of leadership and military skill that characterized his reign, during
which Prussia expanded territorially and gained the basis for its later role as
cornerstone of the German empire. Frederick's officials, confidants and
friends never doubted that he was homosexually oriented. Ecclesiastical
Councilor Busching declared that "Frederick forewent a good deal of
'sensual pleasure' because of his aversion to women, but he made amends for it
by his intercourse with men, recalling from the history of philosophy that
Socrates had a great fondness for Alcibiades." Hard put to account for
Frederick's unorthodox social life, historians ascribed it to misogyny, but
this assumption has no other ground than his separation from his wife and the
general absence of women from his court. He did have female friends and
correspondents with whom he had an intellectual affinity, but his courtiers in
residence were all male, and Prussian society in general had a high degree of
sex segregation.
Frederick's separation from his wife is quite understandable. His father had
forced him to marry her as a sign of his obedience, to produce an heir to the
throne, and possibly to prove his heterosexuality. The bride, Elizabeth
Christine of Brunswick, had been chosen by the Holy Roman emperor in the hope
that she would influence Frederick to follow Austrian policies, but Frederick
had no intention of being dominated by a woman. The wife, moreover, was a dull
German hausfrau, submissive, unsophisticated, and nowhere near as intellectual
as he, so that the absence of a sexual interest precluded any human
relationship between them. The minute his father died, Frederick separated from
his wife but never divorced her, and as compensation he gave her the palace of
Schonhausen, apartments in the palace in Berlin and an income suit able for the
queen of Prussia.
Frederick's brother Henry of Prussia, who was fourteen years younger and also
homosexual, but far more open and undisguised in his erotic preferences, chose
the officers in his regiment for their handsomeness rather than for their
military competence. Frederick did, however, force his younger brother to marry
"to save appearances."
There are allusions to homosexuality in a mock-epic which Frederick composed
in French, Le
Palladion, and in a victory poem commemorating the defeat of the
French at Rossbach on November 5, 1757. Some of his poetic references to Greek
love were negative on the surface, but this may have been mere literary
camouflage. The male friends whom he loved deeply nearly all died of disease or
in battle and left him lonely in his old age. He carefully kept his male
intimates separate from the affairs of state, never allowing them to exert an
undesirable influence on his regime. His relationship with the French writer
and philosopher Voltaire was fraught with ambivalence - including the
homoerotic overtones, and the exasperated Frenchman went so far as to publish
an anonymous book entitled The
Prívate Life of the King of Prussia which amounted to an exposé of Frederick's
homosexuality, yet in the end each acknowledged the other's greatness.
Frederick was a crowned homosexual who loved other men passionately - and
sometimes suffered terribly as a result. He exercised his royal prerogative to
pardon those convicted of sodomy, and never let his personal feelings override
his duties as a ruler. If his life experiences made him bitter, they never
robbed him of the capacity for male love.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
Susan W. Henderson, "Frederick the Great of Prussia: A Homophile
Perspective," Gai Saber, 1:1 (1977),46-54.
Warren Johansson
Freedom, Sexual
See Liberation, Gay; Sexual
Liberty and the Law.
Freemasonry
The
fraternal order of Free and Accepted Masons is a male secret society having
adherents throughout the world. The order is claimed to have arisen from the
English and Scottish fraternities of stonemasons and cathedral builders in the
late Middle Ages. The formation of a grand lodge in London in 1717 marked the
beginning of the spread of freemasonry on the continent as far east as Poland
and Russia. From its obscure origins freemasonry gradually evolved into a
political and benevolent society that vigorously promoted the ideology of the
Enlightenment, and thus came into sharp and lasting antagonism with the
defenders of the Old Regime. The slogan "Liberty, Equality,
Fraternity" immortalized by the French Revolution is said to have begun in
the lodges of the Martinist affiliate. The Catholic church became and remained
an impla
tern" that like
freemasonry exercised an invisible web of influence over the political life of
the country, and in 1953 the national conventions of the Society abandoned
this conspiratorial model for a simpler set of local and regional organizations.
In the United States freemasonry has had the quality of a fraternal and benevolent
society extending into all walks of American life rather than that of a political
force engaged in sinister manipulations.
In Europe the freemasons have retained some of their former political might. A
well-known French freemason, Henri Caillavet, drafted the law eliminating
antihomosexual discrimination that was passed in 1981. At the same time the
leading French lodge, the Grand Orient de France - despite its defense of other
oppressed groups - remains uneasy about the subject of homosexuality, and gay
members feel obliged to remain in the closet.
Warren Johansson
Freud, Sigmund (1856-1939)
Viennese physician and
thinker, the founder of psychoanalysis. Born in Pfibor in Moravia (now
Czechoslovakia) of a Jewish family that stemmed from Galicia, Freud accompanied his father, a wool
merchant, when he moved to Vienna in 1859. The family lived in considerable
poverty, relieved only by gifts from the two sons of a previous marriage of his
father's who had settled in Manchester and prospered. In school Sigmund was a
brilliant student, sitting at the head of his class and mastering the classical
and several modern languages.
Early Career. In 1871 Freud entered the University of
Vienna as a medical student and passed his qualifying examinations as a
physician in 1881. He continued research work for some fifteen months, publishing
among other things a paper that entitles him to rank among the discoverers of
the neurone theory, a basic cable foe of freemasonry and of liberalism, so that
the political history of not a few countries is the chronicle of the struggle
between them.
The significance of freemasonry for homosexuality is complex. By actively
furthering the downfall of the Old Regime, freemasonry contributed to the
massive reform of the penal codes of Europe, including the abolition of the
crime of sodomy. And
the clandestine nature of the freemasonic lodges, with their degrees of
initiation, suggested to the participants in the erotic subculture of
nineteenth-century Europe that they belonged to "love's freemasonry"
as the unknown author of the Leon
to Annabella, attributed
to Lord Byron, expressed
it. The great French literary critic Charles Augustin Sainte-Beuve (1804-1869)
later spoke of a "freemasonry of pleasure" whose adepts recognize one
another everywhere at a glance. Down to the beginning of the modern homosexual
liberation movement, this was probably how most homosexuals defined themselves
- not as members of a psychological or ethnic "minority." Not
surprisingly, the conservative and clerical forces in retreat sought to defame
the mason ic lodges by claiming that their members were "vile
pederasts," so that the issue of homosexuality has largely been avoided
within masonic circles. A book such as Hans Burner's Die
Rolle der Erotik in der männlichen Gesellschaft (The Role of the Erotic in Male Society;
1917-18), which emphasized the homoerotic component of male bonding and
organization-building, could create only embarrassment in masonic circles, even
if the lodges practiced a considerable toleration in regard to the sexual Uves of
their members.
Harry Hay's original design for the Mattachine Society was
modeled in part on the well-established hierarchical orders of freemasonry, as
well as on the clandestine, anonymity-protecting structure of the American
Communist Party in the 1930s and 1940s. Such a scheme risked rousing fears of
an international "homin
concept
for modern neurology. In 1882, however, his teacher Ernst Brücke advised him to abandon
research and to practice medicine; and since Freud wished to marry and start a
family, he took this advice. There followed three years as a resident at the
Vienna General Hospital, with five months in the psychiatric division. In 1885
the University awarded him a traveling fellowship that enabled him to study in
Paris under Jean-Martin Charcot, the famous neurologist who had demonstrated
the value of hypnosis; this contact awakened Freud's interest in hysteria and
psychopathology. In 1886 Freud began his practice as a specialist in nervous
diseases, and a few months later, after a long engagement, he married Martha
Bemays.
The role played by sexuality in Freud's writings has given his own sex life a
certain interest for the investigator. The available evidence suggests that
Martha Bemays was the only love of his life, that he had no extramarital
affairs and no homosexual activity, and that he ceased having sexual relations
with his wife at the age of 42, in 1898, on the pretext that he wanted no more
children and that contraceptive devices were aesthetically unsatisfactory. Thus
he was a preeminently Victorian figure in his private life, even if his
theories helped to foster the demand for sexual liberation from the bind of
Christian asceticism.
The Emergence of Freud's Distinctive
Ideas. In the 1880s most of the patients referred to a specialist
in nervous diseases were neurotics with no physical illness of any kind, while
the emphasis in psychiatry on hereditary degeneration and on lesions in the
central nervous system left the practitioner helpless, fostering an attitude of
therapeutic nihilism. The x-ray had not yet been discovered, operations on the
brain were exceedingly dangerous and usually ended in the death of the patient,
and diagnostic brain imaging techniques lay many decades in the future. Freud
exhibited moral courage when he adopted the hypnotic technique in 1887 and a reversion
to scientific respectability when he replaced hypnosis with "free association,"
advising the patient to utter whatever came into his head in the hope that
such undirected thought would revive the repressed traumatic event that had
caused the illness. The underlying theoretical assumption was that neurotic
symptoms are physical expressions of repressed emotion that will vanish if the
painful experience is recalled and the emotion belatedly expressed. Examples of
this were given in the book by Freud and Josef Breuer, Studien über Hysterie (Studies on Hysteria;
1895), which is usually regarded as the first psychoanalytic work, since it
introduced into psychiatry the concepts of trauma, the unconscious, repression,
conversion, and abreaction. It should be noted, however, that the concept of
the unconscious had been for some decades a commonplace of German romantic
literature and philosophy.
Breuer recoiled, however, from certain of the corollaries of the technique, in
that patients who benefited from this form of therapy became passionately attached
to the therapist, and the pathogenic, traumatic experience often seemed to be
sexual. Freud was undeterred and went on to formulate the concept of transference
to explain the first phenomenon and his theory of infantile sexuality to
explain the second. Breuer's withdrawal from the scene left Freud alone, and so
psychoanalysis proper was his individual creation, not that of a group of
collaborators. Also, in the years 1894-1902 Freud was undergoing a period of
self-analysis that was in fact a creative mental illness. During this time
Freud was obsessed by his own dreams and suffered from feelings of total
isolation alleviated only by correspondence and occasional meetings with the
Berlin physician Wilhelm Fliess, in whose eccentric numerological fantasies he
was absorbed for years. He only gradually emancipated himself from them.
At the close of this ordeal he emerged with the conviction that he had
discovered three great truths: that dreams are the disguised fulfillment of
unconscious, mainly infantile wishes; that all human beings have an Oedipus
complex in which they wish to kill the parent of the same sex and possess the
parent of the opposite one; and that children have sexual feelings. At the
same time Freud felt himself despised, rejected, and misunderstood. This last
attitude became part of a myth which held that Freud was universally ignored
and even persecuted by his psychiatric colleagues, although it is true that the
lay reception of Freud's work was often far more sympathetic and positive than
theirs.
Maturity. Freud's first notable
publication concerning bisexuality and homosexuality was the Drei Abhandlungen zur Sexualtheorie (Three Essays on the
Theory of Sexuality) of 1905. During the following decade Freud made other
significant observations on sexuality. In 1902 he had founded the Vienna Psychoanalytic
Society, to be followed, in 1910, by the International Psychoanalytic Society.
Promoted by an increasing number of disciples, Freud's thought was on the way
to becoming institutionalized.
In the 1920s he added two ideas to his original corpus: the tripartition of the
human mind into superego, ego, and id; and the concept of the death instinct [thanatos). As the founder of
psychoanalysis Freud attracted the rich and famous to his couch in Vienna,
while a cancer of the upper jaw induced by cigar smoking undermined his
health. His rise to world renown during this period was clouded by the threat
of National Socialism, which finally forced him to leave Austria. Just after
the outbreak of the World War II, he died in London on September 23, 1939. At
this point the turmoil of world events precluded any full assessment of the value
of his work.
After World War II appraisals in the English-speaking world inclined to the
laudatory, following paths laid down by the psychoanalytic establishment
itself;
Emest Jones' three-volume biography is the best example of this tendency. Those
who criticized Freud and his ideas were commonly accused of clinging fearfully
to traditional morality and of willful resistance to his insights, while the
foes of psychoanalysis branded it a mystical and dogmatic belief system that
merely perpetuated in a new guise notions inherited from the idealistic
thinkers of antiquity. In the 1970s and 1980s, however, more fundamental
criticisms were heard, and the psychoanalytic establishment was forced on the
defensive, while new therapeutic techniques took the place of prolonged and
costly analyses with doubtful outcomes.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
Emest Jones, The Life and Work of Sigmund Freud, 3 vols., New York: Basic
Books, 1953-57; Paul Roazen, Freud and His Followers, New York: Alfred A. Knopf,
1976; Frank J. Sulloway, Freud, Biologist of the Mind: Beyond the Psychoanalytic
Legend, New York: Basic Books, 1979.
Warren Johansson
Freudian Concepts
The
following discussion reviews a number of Sigmund Freud's published writings on
sexuality and homosexuality, in an attempt to isolate elements of enduring
value within them. Five aspects of Freud's psychoanalytic work are relevant to
homosexuality, though by no means have all of them been fully appreciated in
the discussion of the legal and social aspects of the subject. These include:
(1) the psychology of sex; (2) the etiology of paranoia; (3) psychoanalytic
anthropology; (4) the psychology of religion; and (5) the origins of Judaism
and Christianity. In regard to the last two the psychoanalytic profession in
the United States has notably shied away from the implications of the
founder's ideas, in no small part because of its accommodation to the norms of
American culture, including popular Protestant religiosity.
Psychology of Sex. This realm was treated in
a classic manner in Drei
Abhandlungen zur Sexualtheoríe
(Three
Essays on the Theory of Sexuality; 1905), in which Freud polemicized against
Magnus Hirschf eld's theory of homosexuality as constitutionally determined,
inborn, and unmodifiable. He pointed out that these characteristics could only
be ascribed to exclusive inverts, as he designated them; but to accept such an
explantion would be tantamount to renouncing an understanding of homosexual
attraction in its totality. He stressed the continuum that extends from the
exclusive homosexual to the individual who has only fleeting experiences or
merely feelings in the course of adolescence. In a footnote (conveniently
overlooked by many psychoanalysts since then) Freud mentioned that in the
understanding of inversion the pathological viewpoints have been replaced (abgelöst) by anthropological ones,
and that this shift was the merit of Iwan Bloch in his Beiträge zur Ätiologie der Psychopathia
sexualis (Contributions to the Etiology of Psychopathia sexualis;
1902-03), which laid particular emphasis on homosexuality among the civilized
peoples of antiquity.
In this study Freud also recognized that deviations of the secondary and
tertiary sexual characters in the direction of the norm for the opposite sex
are independent of the homosexual orientation itself. He examined the theories
that related homosexuality to a primitive or constitutional bisexuality, and
pointed out that the pederast is attracted only to the male youth who has not
yet lost his androgynous quality, so that it is the blend of masculine and
feminine traits in the boy that arouses and attracts the adult male; and the
male prostitutes of Freud's time seem to have affected a particularly effeminate
guise to lure their customers. The disturbance in the orientation of the sexual
impulse, he held, must be related to its development. In all the cases that he
had analyzed he found that in the early years of their childhood future inverts
had an intense but short-lived phase of intense fixation on a woman (usually
the mother), which after overcoming, they identify with the woman and take
themselves as sexual object. So that with a narcissistic starting point they
seek youthful sexual partners resembling themselves, whom they then love as the
mother loved them. He also determined that alleged inverts were not indifferent
to female stimuli, but transferred their arousal to male objects. This
mechanism continues to function throughout their entire lives: their
compulsive quest of the male is caused by their restless flight from the
female.
Freud later (1915) added to these remarks the assertion that psychoanalysis is
decisively opposed to any effort at separating homosexuals from the rest of
mankind as a special class. If anything, psychoanalytic study has found that
all human beings are capable of a homosexual object choice and have in fact
made one in the unconscious. Libidinous feelings for persons of the same sex
play no less a role in normal mental life, and a greater one in the
pathological, than do those for the opposite sex. Independence of the object
choice from the sex of the object, the freedom to pursue male and female
objects that is observed in childhood, among primitive peoples, and in early
historic times, is the primitive state from which both heterosexuality and
homosexuality derive through a process of restriction. Thus Freud adopted the
notion of universal primary bisexuality, which had earlier been propounded by
Wilhelm Fliess, and made it a cornerstone of his thinking on all aspects of
human sexuality.
Not long after the publication of the Drei
Abhandlungen, Freud gave an interview to the editor of the Vienna
newspaper Die
Zeit (who
as it chanced lived in the same apartment house at 19 Berggasse, although the
two men were not acquainted socially) in connection with the trial of Professor
Theodor Beer, accused of homosexual relations with two boys whom he had used
as photographic models. In a statement printed in the issue of October 27,1905,
he asserted that "like many experts, I uphold the view that the homosexual
does not belong before the bar of a court of justice. I am even of the firm
conviction that the homosexual cannot be regarded as sick, because the
individual of an abnormal sexual orientation is for just that reason far from being
sick. Should we not then have to classify many great thinkers and scholars of
all ages, whose sound minds it is precisely that we admire, as sick men? Homosexual persons are not sick, butneitherdo
they belong before the bar of a court of justice. Here in Austria, and to a
greater extent in Germany, a powerful movement is on foot to abrogate the
paragraph of the penal code that is directed against those of an abnormal
sexual disposition. This movement will gather ever more support until it
attains final success." Long ignored by orthodox psychoanalysts (though
noted by Hirschfeld's committee and reprinted in several publications), this
opinion reflects not just Freud's judgment as the founder of psychoanalysis,
but also his political liberalism as a follower of John Stuart Mill, whose
essays he had translated into German early in his career.
Etiology of Paranoia. In explaining the genesis
of paranoia, Freud purloined from Wilhelm Fliess the notion that it was
dependent on repressed homosexuality, but only in 1915 did he formulate this
interpretation as a general rule. He believed that the paranoic withdrawal of
love from its former object is always accompanied by a regression from previously
sublimated homosexuality to narcissism, omitting the half-way stage of overt
homosexuality. Recent investigations have sought to confirm this insight for
paranoia in male subjects only, and in all likelihood it is related not just to
the phenomenon of homosexual panic but to the generally higher level of societal
anxiety and legal intolerance in regard to male as opposed to female
homosexuality. This would also explain why lesbianism is invisible to the
unconscious: the collective male psyche experiences no threat from female
homosexuality.
Psychoanalytic Anthropology.
Reading
in manuscript the first part of Jung's Transformations
and Symbols of the Libido, Freud became increasingly unhappy with the latter's
tendency to derive conclusions from mythology and comparative religion and
transfer them to clinical data, while his own method was to start with his
analytic experience and to apply the conclusions to the beliefs and customs of
man's early history. The outcome of Freud's explorations in this direction
was Totem and Taboo (1913), which despite the
break with his Swiss colleague in that year is the most Jungian of all his
works.
The first section, on "The Horror of Incest," deals with the
extraordinarily ramified precautions primitive tribes take to avoid the
remotest possibility of incest, or even a relationship that might distantly
resemble it. They are far more sensitive on the matter than civilized peoples,
and infringement of the taboo is often punished with instant death. This
observation is pertinent to the problem of intergenerational homosexuality,
above all to the intense condemnation that Western society still attaches to
pederasty - which ironically enough is the normative type of homosexuality in
many other cultures. While Hellenic civilization could distinguish between
father-son and erastes-
eromenos relationships, Biblical Judaism could not, and expanded its
earlier prohibition of homosexual acts with a father or uncle to a generalized
taboo. It is perhaps pertinent that pedophilia (sex with prepubertal
children), as distinct from pederasty, usually involves members of the same
family, not total strangers. Also, extending this mode of thinking, the
fascination which some homosexual men have for partners of other races may be
owing to the unconscious guilt that still adheres to a sexual relationship with
anyone who could be even remotely related to them, which is to say a member of
the same ethnic or racial group.
The second section is entitled "Taboo and the Ambivalence of
Feelings," whose relevance to homosexuality lies in the survival of the
medieval taboo in its most irrational forms down to the last third of the
twentieth century. To the believer the taboo has no reason or explanation
beyond itself. It is autonomous, and the fatal consequences of violating it are
equally spontaneous. Its nearest parallel in modern times is the conscience,
which Freud defined as that part of oneself which one knows with the most
unquestioning certainty. The tabooed person is charged with prodigious powers
for good or evil; anyone coming in contact with him, even accidentally, is
similarly laden. These notions are relevant for the understanding of the
ostracism which Christian society has traditionally inflicted upon individuals
known to have had homosexual experience, and of the belief that the homosexual
constantly seeks to initiate others into his own practices - for which they
then ostensibly experience an irrepressible craving.
The fourth section, the most important of all, was called "The Infantile
Return of Totemism." Totems were originally animals from a particular
species of which the clan traced its descent, and which the clan members were
strictly forbidden to kill. From studying the attitude of young children to
animals Freud had found that the feared animal was an unconscious symbol of the
father who was both loved and hated. Exogamy was nothing but a complicated
guarantee against the possibility of incest. Totemism and exogamy are hence the
two halves of the familiar Oedipus complex, the attraction to the mother and
the death wishes against the rival father.
Following a suggestion of Darwin's that early man must have lived in primal
hordes consisting of one powerful male, several females, and their immature
offspring, Freud postulated that on the one hand the dominant male would drive
away, castrate, or kill his younger challengers, on the other the growing sons
would periodically band together to kill, slay, and devour the father. The clan
of brothers that would be left would be ambivalent toward the slain father and
prone to quarrel among themselves; this situation would lead to remorse and an
internalized incest taboo. Freud then appealed to Robertson Smith's writings
on sacrifice and sacrificial feasts in which the totem is ceremonially slain
and eaten, thus reenacting the original deed. The rite is followed by mourning
and then by triumphant rejoicing and wild excesses,- the events serve to
perpetuate the community and its identity with the ancestor. After thousands of
years of religious evolution the totem became a god, and the complicated story
of the various religions begins. This work of Freud's has been condemned by
anthropologists and other specialists, yet it may throw considerable light on
aspects of Tudeo-Christian myth and legend that cluster around the rivalry of
the father and his adolescent son - in which the homosexual aggressor is,
ostensibly, seeking to destroy the masculinity of his rival by "using him
as a woman."
Psychology of Rehgion. In the tradition of the
Enlightenment Freud approached religion from the standpoint of a dogmatic
atheism. As early as 1907 he published an essay on "Obsessive Acts and
Religious Practices," showing that in both there is a sense of inner
compulsion and a more or less vague apprehension of misfortune (= punishment)
if the ceremonies are omitted. In obsessional neurosis the repressed impulses
that have to be kept at bay are typically sexual ones; in rehgion they may
extend to selfish and aggressive desires as well. Obsessional neurosis is thus
a pathological counterpart of religion, while religion may be styled a collective
obsessional neurosis.
Twenty years later, in Die
Zukunft einer Illusion (The Future of an Illusion), Freud returned to the problem
of religion and its survival, albeit in attenuated forms, in modern society.
He pursued the line of scientific criticism of religion which concluded that
religion is the collective neurosis which, like inoculation against disease,
saves the individual from his individual neurosis. Then in Das Unbehagenin derKultur (Civilization and Its
Discontents; 1929), Freud approached the problem of the conflict between instinctual
drives and the demands of civilization, in particular the restrictions imposed
on sexual life, which exact a heavy toll in the form of widespread neuroses
with the suffering and loss of cultural energy which they entail. These
writings are pertinent to the conflict experienced by many homosexuals between
their religious identity acquired in childhood and the needs of the erotic
side of their personality which the Judeo- Christian moral code forbids them
to satisfy.
The Origins of Judaism and
Christianity. The fullest treatment of this subject Freud reserved for
his last major work, Dei
Mann Moses und die monotheistische Religion (Moses and Monotheism;
1938). The book has two main themes: a study of the beginnings of Judaism, and
secondarily of Christianity, followed by a consideration of the significance of
religion in general. From the secondary sources that he had read, Freud
surmised that the lawgiver Moses was an Egyptian who had opted for exile after
religious counter-revolution had undone the reforms of the first monotheist,
Akhenaten. His Egyptian retinue became the Levites, the elite of the new
religious community which received its law code, not from him, but from the
Midianite priest of a volcanic diety, Jahweh, at the shrine of Kadesh Barnea.
This last site, amusingly enough, presumably took its name from the bevy of
male and female cult prostitutes who ministered at its shrine. The Biblical
Moses is a fusion of the two historic figures.
Freud also, on the basis of a book published by the German Semiticist Emst
Sellin, posited the death of Moses in an uprising caused by his autocratic rule
and apodictic pronouncements. The whole notion was based upon a reinterpretation
of some passages in the book of Hosea, which because of its early and poetic
character, not to speak of the problems of textual transmission, poses
enormous difficulties even for the expert.
The last part of the study treats the role of Oedipal rivalry and conflict in
the myths and rites of Judaism and Christianity. Judaism is a religion of the
father, Christianity a religion of the son, whose death on the cross and the
institution of the eucharist are the last stage in the evolution that began
with the slaying and eating of the totem animal by the primal horde. However
fanciful some of Freud's interpretations may have been, given that he was a
layman speculating on secondary sources, in opening the supposed
Judeo-Christian revelation to the scrutiny of depth psychology, he stood
squarely in favor of a critical examination of the myths and the taboos of
Judaism and Christianity.
Legacy and Influence. The half-century following
Freud's death in exile in London
in 1939 saw the controversy over the merits of his theories continue unabated.
The exodus of the German and Austrian psychoanalysts to the English-speaking
world greatly enhanced their influence on the culture of the countries in which
they settled. At the same time, a body of experience with psychoanalytic
practice and a critical literature on Freud's life and work arose that make it
possible to evaluate his contribution to the problems posed by homosexuality
and the Judeo-Christian attitude toward it.
In retrospect it is clear that Freud's own strictures in regard to
homosexuality have been disregarded by the psychoanalytic profession,
particularly in the United States, where many analysts have been almost
fanatical in their insistence that "homosexuality is a disease. " The
particular emphasis with which Freud contradieted Magnus Hirschfeld's notion
that homosexuals were a biological third sex led - together with a tendency
(not confined to psychoanalysis) to deny the constitutional bases of behavior
- to the assertion that homosexuality was purely the result of
"fixation" in an infantile stage of sexual development provoked by
the action or inaction of the parents. The corollary was that individuals
with varying degrees of homosexuality were forced into prolonged therapeutic
sessions, or even subjected to cruel applications of electric shock - invented
only in 1938 by Ugo Cerletti - and other measures designed to "cure"
them. In the popular mind the belief that homosexuality is somehow a failure of
psychological development has its underpinning in the Freudian concepts.
Freud's contribution to the psychology of the intolerance of homosexuality
has, on the contrary, never been fully appreciated and utilized by the
psychoanalytic profession. Yet by freeing the thinking of the educated
classes from the taboos that enveloped sexuality in the Victorian era, Freud
strongly promoted the démystification of the whole subject and made possible a gradual onset of
rationality in place of the horror, disgust, and condemnation that had been the
norm until recent times. Although seldom quoted in the continuing legal debate
over gay rights, his legacy has quietly worked in favor of toleration - as
Freud himself would have wished.
On his eightieth birthday Freud was honored with an address composed by Thomas
Mann and signed by some two hundred European intellectuals which congratulated
"the pioneer of a new and deeper knowledge of man." It went on to say
that "even should the future remould and modify one result or another of
his researches, never again will the questions be stilled which Sigmund Freud
put to mankind; his gains for knowledge cannot be permanently denied or
obscured." The weaknesses and shortcomings of Freud's legacy were in no
small part failings of the science of his own day. He had to study the final
product of conscious and unconscious mental activity; future generations,
thanks to new devices for sounding the brain and the central nervous system,
will be able to correlate these with the underlying physiological processes.
Pioneer that he was, he ventured at times into fields that were beyond his own
command, but left footsteps which others, endowed with a surer perspective,
would follow into the heart of the matter. To homosexuals he bore no ill-will,
to religion he had no commitment, to intolerance of sexual expression he gave
no sanction, and by tearing away the curtain of irrationality and
superstitious fear that had for so long enveloped sexuality in general he set
the stage for the forces of reason that must someday overcome the
misunderstanding and injustice that homosexuals have endured in Western
civilization.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
Kenneth Lewes, The Psychoanalytic Theory of Homosexuality, New York: Simon and
Schuster, 1988; Timothy F. Murphy, "Freud Reconsidered: Bisexuality,
Homosexuality, and Moral Judgement," Journal of Homosexuality, 9:2/3 (1983-S4), 65-77.
Warren Johansson
FRIEDLAENDER, BENEDICT (1866-1908)
German
natural scientist, thinker, and leader in the homosexual emancipation
movement. In 1903, he cofounded the "Gemeinschaft der Eigenen"
("The Community of the Exceptional," but "eigene" also
means "self," "same" [sex], and, in reference to Max
Stimer's anarchist philosophy, "self-owner"), along with Wilhelm
Jansen and Adolf Brand. Although also a member of Magnus Hirschfeld's
Scientific-Humanitarian Committee, he did not agree with the Committee's exclusive
emphasis on explaining homosexuals as a third sex who by their nature were
creatures that exhibited the external attributes of one gender while
possessing the "soul" (character, emotions) of the opposite gender.
Friedlaender led a move to split the Committee in 1907, but it failed in part
due to his death in 1908 and to Hirschfeld's successful outmaneuvering of the
"secessionists."
These men desired a renaissance of the male-male bonds which had formed so
important a part of culture in ancient Greece. Their ideal would be realized in
a homoerotic relationship, usually between an adult man and an adolescent boy.
The base, animal desires were reserved strictly for procreative purposes; thus,
woman's role in their Utopia was strictly subordinated to that of the male. His notion
of "physiological friendship" did, however, lead to the assumption
that male bonding would find expression in physical acts. To be sure, several
of the Community's members, including Friedlaender and Brand, were married.
Friedlaender expounded this philosophy at length in his treatise Die Renaissance des Etos Uianios
(1904).
This work greatly influenced the theories of Hans Blüher as to the cohesive and
drivingforces of homosexuality within society (see esp. Blüher's Die Rolle
der Erotik in der männlichen Gesellschaft, 1917-19).
The Community's defense of male-male "love" (i.e., friendship)
evinced an elitist character which looked longingly toward the past. It
demonstrated a decidedly hostile attitude toward the modern era with its
supposed evils of urbanization, socialism, and women's liberation, all of which
made more difficult, if not impossible, the unity of body and soul because
they dragged all men down to the basest level.
fames W. Jones
Friendship, Female Romantic
The
Renaissance interest in Platonism encouraged a revival of passionate
friendships between men, reflected in works such as Montaigne's "On Friendship,
" Castiglione's The Book
of the Courtier, Timothe Kendall's "To a Frende," William
Painter's Palace
of Pleasure, and Thomas Lodge's Euphues
Shadowe. Literary examples of such relationships between women are
less numerous in the Renaissance, but they may be found in work such as Thomas
Lodge's Rosalynde,
and
later, in the seventeenth century, in many of the poems by Katharine Philips.
It is in the eighteenth century that such relationships, which came to be
called "romantic friendships, " became common. Romantic friendship
between women was socially condoned, originally because it was not believed
to violate the platonist ideal, and later for more complex reasons. But while
it is true that love between women was "in style," women's
experiences of that love were no less intense or real for their social
acceptability.
The Ladies of Llangollen. Such passion in the
eighteenth century was not believed seriously to violate any code of behavior,
even when it was taken to such extremes that women eloped with each other, as
did the Ladies of Llangollen - Eleanor Butler and Sarah Ponsonby - in 1778.
When Sarah's family discovered that she had run off with a woman instead of a
man, they were relieved - her reputation would not suffer any irreparable harm
(as it would have had her accomplice been male). Her relative Mrs. Tighe
observed, "[Sarah's] conduct, though it has an appearance of imprudence,
is I am sure void of serious impropriety. There were no gentlemen concerned,
nor does it appear to be anything more than a scheme of Romantic
Friendship."
The English, during the second half of the eighteenth century, prized
sensibility, faithfulness, and devotion in a woman, but forbade her significant
contact with the opposite sex before she was betrothed. It was reasoned,
apparently, that young women could practice these sentiments on each other so
that when they were ready for marriage they would have perfected themselves in
those areas. It is doubtful that women viewed their own romantic friendships in
such a way, but - if we can place any credence in eighteenth century English
fiction as a true reflection of that society - men did. Because romantic
friendship between women served men's self-interest in their view> it was
permitted and even socially encouraged. The attitude of Charlotte Lennox's hero
in Euphemia ( 1790) is typical.
MariaHarley's uncle chides her for her great love for Euphemia and her
obstinate grief when Euphemia leaves for America, and he points out that her
fiance "has reason to be jealous of a friendship that leaves him but
second place in [Maria's] affection"; but the fiance responds, "Miss
Harley's sensibility on this occasion is the foundation of all my hopes. From
a heart so capable of a sincere attachment, the man who is so happy as to be
her choice may expect all the refinements of a delicate passion, with all the
permanence of a generous friendship."
Eighteenth-Century Fiction. The novels of the period
show how women perceived these relationships and what ideals they envisioned
for love between women. Those ideals generally could not be realized in life
because most women did not have the wherewithal to be independent. In fiction,
however, romantic friends (having achieved economic security as a part of the
plot, which also furnishes them with good reasons for not having a husband
around) could retire together, away from the corruption of the man-ruled
"great world"; they could devote their lives to cultivating
themselves and their gardens, and to living generously and productively, too;
they could share perfect intimacy in perfect equality. The most complete fictional
blueprint for conducting a romantic friendship is Sarah Scott's A Description of Millennium Hall ( 1762), a novel which
went through four editions by 1778.
Even the mention of such a relationship in the title of a work must have
promoted its sales - which would explain why a 1770 novel that uses friendship
between women as nothing more than an epistolary device was entitled Female Friendship. Women readers could
identify with the female characters' involvement with each other, since most of
them had experienced romantic friendship in their youth at least. Mrs. Delany's
description of her own first love (in The
Autobiography and Correspondence of Mrs. Delany, ed. Sara L. Woolsey) is
typical of what numerous autobiographies, diaries, letters, and novels of the
period contained. As a young woman, she formed a passionate attachment to a
clergyman's daughter, whom she admired for her "uncommon genius ... intrepid spirit... extraordinary understanding, lively imagination, and humane
disposition." They shared "secret talk" and "whispers"
together,- they wrote to one another every day, and met in the fields between
their fathers' houses at every opportunity. "We thought that day tedious,"
Mrs. Delany wrote years later, "that we did not meet, and had many stolen
interviews." Typical of many youthful romantic friendships, it did not
last long (at the age of 17, Mrs. Delany was given in marriage to an old man),
but it provided fuel for the imagination which idealized the possibilities of
what such a relationship might be like without the impingement of cold
marital reality. Because of such girlhood intimacies (which were often cut off
in an untimely manner), most women would have understood when those attachments
were compared with heterosexual love by the female characters in
eighteenth-century novels, and were considered, as Lucy says in William
Hayley's The
Young Widow, "infinitely more valuable." They would have had
their own frame of reference when in those novels, women adopted the David and
Jonathan story for themselves and swore that they felt for each other (again as
Lucy says) "a love passing the Love of Men," or proclaimed as does
Anne Hughes, the author of Henry
and Isabella (1788), that such friendships are "more sweet,
interesting, and to complete all, lasting, than any other which we can ever
hope to possess; and were a just account of anxiety and satisfaction to be
made out, would, it is possible, in the eye of rational estimation, far exceed
the so-much boasted pleasure of love."
American Aspects. By the mid-eighteenth
century, romantic friendship was a recognized institution in America, too. In
the eyes of an observer such as Moreau de St. Mery, who had just recently left
Revolutionary France for America and must have been familiar with the accusations
of lesbianism lodged against Marie Antoinette, the women of her court, and most
of the French actresses of the day, women's effusive display of affection for
each other seemed sexual. Saint Mery, who recorded his observations of his
1793-1798 journey, was shocked by the "unlimited liberty" which
American young ladies seemed to enjoy, and by their ostensible lack of passion
toward men. The combination of their independence, heterosexual
passionlessness, andintimacy with each other could have meant only one thing to
a Frenchman in the 1790s: that "they are not at all strangers to being
willing to seek unnatural pleasures with persons of their own sex." It is
as doubtful that great masses of middle- and upper-class young ladies gave
themselves up to homosexuality as it is that they gave themselves up to
heterosexual intercourse before marriage. But the fiction of the period
corroborates that St. Mery saw American women behaving openly as though they
were in love with each other. Charles Brockden Brown's Ormand, for example, suggests that
American romantic friends were very much like their English counterparts.
The female Island. So many of these fictional
works were written by women, and they provide a picture of female intimacy very
different from the usual depictions by men. The extreme masculine view, which
is epitomized in Casanova's Memoirs,
reduced
female love to the genital, and as such it could be called
"trifling." But love between women, at least as it was lived in
women's fantasies, was far more consuming than the likes of Casanova could
believe.
Women dreamed not of erotic escapades but of a blissful life together. In such
a life a woman would have choices; she would be in command of her own destiny;
she would be an adult relating to another adult in a way that a heterosexual
relationship with a virtual stranger (often an old or at least a much older
man), arranged by a parent for consideration totally divorced from affection,
would not allow her to be. Samuel Richardson permitted Miss Howe to express
the yearnings of many a frustrated romantic friend when she remarked to
Clarissa, "How charmingly might you and I live together and despise them
all."
Throughout much of the nineteenth century, women moved still farther from men
as both continued to develop their own even more distinct sets of values. Men
tried to claim exclusively for themselves the capacity of action and thought,
and relegated women to the realm of sensibility alone. Women made the best of
it: they internalized the only values they were permitted to have, and they
developed what has been called the Cult of True Womanhood. The spiritual life,
moral purity, and sentiment grew in importance. But with whom could they share
these values?
Female Bonding Strengthens. In America and England
during the second half of the nineteenth century, as more women began to claim
more of the world, the reasons for bonding together against men who wished to
deny them a broader sphere became greater. Carroll Smith-Rosenberg has amply
demonstrated that deeply felt friendships between women were casually accepted
in American society, primarily because women saw themselves, and were seen
as, kindred spirits who inhabited a world of interests and sensibilities alien
to men. During the second half of the nineteenth century, when women slowly
began to enter the world that men had built, their ties to each other became
even more important. Particularly when they engaged in reform and betterment
work, they were confirmed in their belief that women were spiritually superior
to men, their moral perceptions were more highly developed, and their sensibilities
were more refined. Thus if they needed emotional understanding and support,
they turned to other women. New England reform movements often were fueled by
the sisterhood or kindred spirits who were righting a world men had wronged. In
nineteenth-century America close bonds between women were essential both as an
outlet for the individual female's sensibilities and as a crucial prop for
women's work toward social and personal betterment in man's sullied and
insensitive world.
What was the nature of these same-sex bonds? Margaret Fuller, an early
feminist, saw same-sex love as far superior to heterosexuality. She wrote in
her journal in the 1840s, "It is so true that a woman may be in love with
a woman, and a man with a man." Such love, she says, is regulated by the
same law that governs love between the sexes, "only it is purely intellectual
and spiritual, unprofaned by any mixture of lower instincts, undisturbed by any
need of consulting temporal interests."
William Alger in
The Friendships of Women (1868) cites one historical example after another of love
between women. Typically the women wrote each other, "I feel so deeply the
happiness of being loved by you, that you can never cease to love me,"
"I need to know allyour thoughts, to follow all your motions, and can find
no other occupation so sweet and so dear," "My heart is so full of
you, that, since we parted I have though of nothing but writing to you,"
"I see in your soul as if it were my own."
The Twentieth Century. In 1908 it was still
possible for an American children's magazine to carry a story in which a
teenage girl writes a love poem in honor of her female schoolmate, declaring:
My love has a forehead broad and fair,
And the breeze-blown curls of her chestnut hair
Fall over it softly, the gold and the red
A shining aureole round her head. Her clear eyes gleam with an amber light
For sunbeams dance in them swift and bright
And over those eyes so golden brown,
Long, shadowy lashes droop gently down...
Oh, pale with envy the rose doth grow
That my lady lifts to her cheeks' warm glow!...
But for joy its blushes would come again
If my lady to kiss the rose should deign.
If the above poem had been written by one female character to another in
magazine fiction after 1920, the poetess of the story would no doubt have been rushed
off to a psychoanalyst to undergo treatment of her mental malady, or she would
have ended her fictional existence broken in half by a tree, justly punished by
nature (with a little help from a right-thinking heterosexual) for her
transgression, as in D. H. Lawrence's The
Fox. Much
more likely, such a poem would not have been written by a fictional female to
another after the first two decades of the twentieth century, because the
explicit discussion of same-sex love in most popular American magazines by that
time was considered taboo. In the early twentieth century, however, popular
stories in magazines such as Ladies
Home Journal and Harpers
often
treated the subject totally without self-consciousness or awareness that such
relationships were "unhealthy" or "immoral," even for
several years after French novelists and German sexologists started writing
voluminously about lesbianism and were published in America.
America may have been slower than Europe to be impressed by the taboos against
same-sex love for several reasons: (1) Without a predominant Catholic mentality
the country was less fascinated with "sin" and therefore less
obsessed with the potential of sex between women; (2) by virtue of distance,
America was not so influenced by the German medical establishment as other
countries were, such as France and Italy and, to a lesser extent, England; (3)
there was not so much clear hostility, or rather there was more ambivalence
to, women's freedom in a land which in principle was dedicated to tolerance of
individual freedom. Therefore, romantic friendship was possible in America
well into the second decade of the twentieth century, and, for those women who
were born and raised Victorians and remained impervious to the new attitudes,
even beyond it.
However, that view did not continue for long in this century. A 1973
experiment conducted by two Palo Alto, California, high school girls for a
family-life course illustrates the point. For three weeks the girls behaved on
campus as all romantic friends did in the previous century: they held hands
often on campus walks, they sat with their arms around each other, and they
exchanged kisses on the cheek when classes ended. They did not intend to give
the impression that their feelings were sexual. They touched each other only as
close, affectionate friends would. But despite their intentions, their peers
interpreted their relationship as lesbian and ostracized them. Interestingly,
the boys limited their hostility to calling them names. The girls, who perhaps
felt more anxiety and guilt about what such behavior reflected on their own
impulses, threatened to beat them up.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
William Rounsevelle Alger, The Friendships of Women, Boston: Roberts Bros.,
1868; Lillian Faderman, Surpassing the Love of Men: Romantic Friendship and Love
Between Women from the Renaissance to the Present, New York: William Morrow,
1981; Carroll Smith-Rosenberg, "The Female World of Love and Ritual:
Relations Between Women in Nineteenth Century America," Signs: Journal of Women in
Culture and Society, 1:1 (Autumn 1975), 1-29.
Lilhan Faderman
Friendship, Male
Friendship
has been a basic theme in Western civilization, one which has interacted with
other social and intellectual currents. As the definition of homosexuality
has changed over time, so has the way of conceiving its relationship with
friendship.
Themes of the Classic Texts.
When the
Greeks first learned to write they wrote about friendship. For more than two
millennia the discussion they began continued with undiminished enthusiasm,
across Imperial Rome, the Christian Middle Ages and the philosophers, poets,
and dramatists of the Renaissance.
The essential texts on which this discussion depends are very few. One is
Cicero's essay De
Amicitia. The second is Aristotle's discussion of friendship in Books
VIII and IX of the Nicomachean
Ethics and Book VII of the Eudemian
Ethics. The third is Plato's Symposium, both in his own version
and in the influential commentary written by Marsilio Ficino in the fifteenth
century. These three texts dominated the discussion of friendship until well
into the seventeenth century and one finds them woven together time and again
with the supple ease of ideas which have long been companions.
One might well wonder why. For all that they appear together so frequently,
these are very diverse texts. Cicero's essay breathes the clear air of
humanism. For him, friendship is personal and its basis is virtue. It is thus a
harmony between two people in everything, multiplying joys and dividing griefs.
Such a friendship necessarily requires an equality and if it is lacking it
must, Cicero tells us, be made. For Plato friendship is rather part of the
philosopher's quest: a link between the world of the senses in which we live
and the eternal world. In Ficino's commentary, however, there is a subtle shift
from the philosopher to the lover of God. The sparks of God's glory scattered
throughout the world, if the haunted lover but knew it, are what attract him in
the beauty of his beloved and the love they inspire are what binds the universe
together in all its myriad forms. But something which is the very knot of the
universe is as likely to bind the high and the low as much as it does men of
equal degree, if all these are but the shadow of the bond that binds in one the
Creator and His creation. Somewhere along the way, equality has been forgotten.
But friendship is disinterested, both Ficino and Cicero agree on that: it is
content to be its own reward. It is here, though, that we hear the questioning voice
of Aristotle. Such friendship, he tells us, is of course the best, but it is
not the most common. Why do most men love one another, he asks? They do so, he
tells us, because of their usefulness to each other.
These writers had by no means the same ideas about friendship, and the lack of
embarrassment with which they were later combined needs some explanation. It
is odd to see the humanism of Cicero intertwined with the religious rapture of
Ficino; but we do, frequently. It is also odd to find a critical comment
reminiscent of Aristotle within a text which otherwise draws on either of these
two; but the assiduous researcher will also find that. This ease in combining
the uncombinable tells us something we ought perhaps in any case to have
guessed for ourselves. It is that when medieval or Renaissance writers wrote of
friendship, they were not writing of something they had discovered in the pages
of Cicero or Plato. It was something that already existed in their society,
and what they were doing was presenting it in its very best clothes.
Subsequent Reflections. In the more mundane
documents of their time - in the writings of a medieval chronicler or the
letters of a man of affairs - there is a tacit but salutary commentary on such
material. There one will frequently find "friend" or
"friendship," but the kind of relationship characterized by these
words is altogether more practical. It is quite likely to be the relationship a
patron had with his client or a lord with his tenants: the relationship, to put
it at its broadest and most characteristic, between those men who possessed
power and those with whom they were willing to share it.
"Friendship" in this sense casts a revealing light on the more
literary descriptions of friendship. Typical of many is John Lyly's (ca.
1554-1606) description of Euphues' friendship with his friend Philautus,
written in the England of Elizabeth I:
But after many embracings and protestations one to another they walked to
dinner, where they wanted neither meat, neither music, neither any other
pastime; and having banqueted, to digest their sweet confections they danced
all that afternoon. They used not only one board but one bed, one book (if so
be it they thought not one too many). Their friendship augmented every day,
insomuch that the one could not refrain the company of the other one minute.
All things went in common between them, which all men accounted commendable.
The description is engagingly ideal and it was meant to be, but the
idealization does not He in its details; all had their ready parallels in the
England in which John Lyly was writing. Similar protestations of affection
could be found in the correspondence of the hardworking secretaries of the Earl
of Essex or Lord Burghley. Edmund Spenser (1552-1599), the hopeful poet of The Shepheardes Calender, also looked forward, as
many of his contemporaries did, to the kisses and embraces of other men that
would mark his success. And as Euphues slept with Philautus, so Archbishop Laud
dreamt of sharing his bed, in the eyes of all the court, with the great Duke of
Buckingham: in a society where most people slept with someone else in
conditions which lacked privacy, with whom a powerful man shared his bed was a
public fact and a meaningful one. The idealization lies rather in what John
Lyly misses out: that material interest between men of which such signs were
the public symbols, and the stream of coin, of New Year's gifts and ready
credit that these marks of influence could produce from those who sought to
make use of them.
It is such things that were apt to find themselves dressed in elegant garments
drawn from Cicero's De
Amicitia or Ficino's commentary, without, it has to be said, a very
close reading of either; and one will very probably find that the immediate
source is not these writings but one of those numerous treatises of love which
were as common in the sixteenth century as popular Freudianism is today.
Between such friendship and homosexuality there appears at first sight a
towering divide. Elsewhere John Lyly speaks of homosexuality with the same
terms of fear and loathing Elizabethan writers usually used when mentioning
"unnatural vice,-" and to some extent there had always been anxiety
about it. How could the masculinity of a youth be preserved in a homosexual
relationship with an older man? That was the kernel of the problem for the
Greeks. For the Romans it was the perennial anxiety that a free citizen might
take a passive role in a sexual relationship with a slave. Homosexuality in
itself was not the problem for either: it was in the forms that homosexuality
might take that the difficulty lay.
Distinctions. In the late Middle Ages
the absolute abhorrence of homosexuality took full shape, and it was a fear
the Renaissance inherited in full measure. It was characteristically among the
fears and anxieties of the thirteenth century that the fearful link was first
made between the sodomite and the heretic and, by a transition natural to a
society where state and church lay so close together, between these figures and
the traitor; the polemics of the Reformation only sharpened that deadly
association. Now more than ever the distinction between friendship and
homosexuality had to be securely defined.
It was not, though, an easy distinction to make. A description like that of
John Lyly makes that very clear. Each involved an emotional bond, each required
a physical intimacy and the signs of the one were dangerously close to the
signs of the other. Yet the distinction was all the more important and no light
matter in a society where "friendship" in the forms of its daily use
played the role it did.
In time the problem would lessen, and it is not one that the modern world has
inherited. With the coming of the eighteenth century, friendship was well on
the way to becoming a more individual and personal relationship. Homosexuality,
too, was putting on a different mask, for it was from about this point that the
sodomite began to be conceived as part of a minority of human beings for whom
homosexual desire alone was a possibility. The change has meant that the
tension between friendship and homosexuality which was alive for so long is
apt now to elude one.
But if it does, one will have difficulty in fully understanding the history of
either homosexuality or friendship before the eighteenth century, for it is
here that one inevitably finds the larger world of relations between men in
which homosexuality found expression; and time and again in the courts of
medieval and Renaissance Europe the accusations of sodomy occur in social
relations which at other times a contemporary might have called
"friendship."
But there is another reason also why the historian needs to be alive to this
tension. Is one so sure that on occasion some did not indeed call the one the
other? The two also lay at the boundaries of each other's meaning and to see
that is also to ask inexorably a more critical question about who it was that
had the power to define that the one was the one and the other was the other.
Here is an illustration: In 1368 a boy called Antonio appears among the court
records of Renaissance Venice in a trial for sodomy along with a man called
Benedicto, who was teaching him to be a herald. During the proceedings, the
judges turned to the boy and asked him what he made of this crime. It was, the boy replied,
"friendship" because Benedicto was "teaching him like a master."
His judges had not asked their question out of curiosity. They had elicited
his answer all the more effectively to replace it with their own. They had decided
that their account should prevail, not his. But why, one is forced still to
ask, should the modem investigator?
Homosexuality and friendship: they may well appear at first as two discrete
histories, one of society and the other of sexuality. But if one tries to
follow their subterranean currents in the Europe of the Middle Ages and the
Renaissance, one will end by finding oneself drawn into writing about something
larger. One will find oneself writing about power and the power not only of
judges but of words.
Alan Bray and Michel Rey
Post-Renaissance Developments. Since the Renaissance the relationship between friendship
and homosexuality has seen a contrast between those who sought to define
friendship in a manner that would exclude the homoerotic element, and those who
preferred, often for covert reasons, to make friendship encompass the phenomenon
of homosexuality and serve as a code name for it. Did homosociality, a major
aspect of modern social relations, include or exclude homoerotic feelings and relations?
The distinction between friendship and love that denied the erotic component of
the former and legitimized eroticism solely between men and women redrew the
boundary between them in a manner which the defenders of homosexuality tended
not to contest directly, but rather to modify by placing their own markers.
Marriage itself was redefined, with implicit consequences for friendship. A
society that had observed the tradition of arranged marriages between unequal
partners was confronted with a need for change. Under the influence of the
middle-class ideology of the eighteenth century, society now accepted the
principle of a marriage founded upon the affinity of equals, upon love rather
than family interest. In this sense husband and wife could now be friends, and
friendship was no longer invested with an exclusively homo-social character.
The decisive shift in this direction occurred in England, where the Industrial
Revolution and the ideology of classical liberalism went hand in hand.
In Germany political and social relations were more backward, and the period
between 1750 and 1850 is often called the "century of friendship"
because friendship was held in such high esteem as a bond of intimate feeling
in circles where conversely, the intimacy and self-revelation of friendship
were opposed to the mask that one had to wear in order to play one's role in
society. That this notion corresponded to the antithesis between the
homosexual's true self and the socially prescribed mask of obligatory
heterosexuality subtly reinforced the fusion of friendship with homoeroticism.
This type of friendship was grounded in a bond between kindred spirits, but
also was an expression of social virtue that promoted the general well-being.
However, because true friendship excluded the erotic, it could not exist
between men and women, in whose lives it would be only the antechamber leading
to a sexual relationship. Friendship with its higher and nobler ends could thus
be seen as superior to the emotionally stormy and unpredictable relationship
between a man and a woman. So Romanticism revived the classical model of
friendship for which Hellenic antecedents could always be held up as an ideal
by such homosexual admirers of antiquity as Johann Joachim Winckelmann, a
thinker who in Goethe's words "felt himself born for a friendship of this
kind" and "became conscious of his true self only under this form of
friendship."
Ambiguities of the Modem
Situation. The ambivalence which the Christian attitude toward male
homoeroticism introduced into the equation always made for mixed feelings on
the subject. (As late as the 1930s German legal authors seeking to justify the
Nazi laws against homosexuality claimed that their purpose was to keep
relations between men - but not women - free of the sexual element.)
It was in this context that the first psychiatric writers on homosexuality formulated
their definitions, taking as their point of departure the notion that in
"normal" subjects sexual contact with members of the same sex caused aversion
and disgust, while in pathological subjects it was a source of pleasure.
Friendship was healthy because it remained asexual, homosexuality was diseased
because it did not. This view was clearly not acceptable to defenders of
homophile affection. Their rejoinder took either the form of (1) treating
homosexuality as "Freundschaftseros," or (2) of openly asserting the
homoerotic element in male bonding and its institutional expression. The first
course was followed by Elisär von Kupffer in his anthology Lieblingsminne und Freundeshebe in der
Weltliteratur (1900), which inspired Edward Carpenter's Ioläus: An Anthology of Friendship (1902) - two collections
of texts in which the homosexual content was scarcely veiled. The second, more
insightful claim was put forth by Hans Blüher, first in Die Wandervogelbewegung als erotisches
Phänomen (The German Boy Scout Movement as an Erotic Phenomenon;
1912) and then in Die
Rolle der Erotik in der männlichen Kultur (The Role of the Erotic in
Male Culture; 1917-19). In these works Blüher revived the Platonic opposition
between the eros
pandemos, the lower form of erotic attraction that united man and
woman and served as the basis of the family, and the eros uranios, the higher form that
underlay male bonding and was the psychological underpinning of the state.
Controversial as this idea had to be, it has been revived in recent times by
such authors as Lionel Tiger, who have analyzed at length male bonding and the
advantage it gives the male sex in political and economic competition, as well
as in shaping the ethos of teamwork which, even in an individualistic society,
is necessary for the effective functioning of organizations. Viewed in this
perspective, the inability of women either to internalize this ethos or to
participate in male bonding with its ever-present, but highly subdued
eroticism handicaps them in two crucial respects.
At the same time, sociologists such as Georg Simmel denied that the old forms
of friendship were appropriate to modern society. In particular, the tradition
of pairs of warriors fighting and dying together on the battlefield had been replaced
by an ethos of the group, the military unit. It was this feeling that lingered
after World War I, with its experience of comradeship in the trenches, and
carried over into the paramilitary groups that fought in the streets of German
cities under the Weimar Republic. But the old ambivalence remained, again
finding oblique expression on both sides of the fence dividing homosexual from
heterosexual. While Ernst Röhm could boast, late in 1933, that the homoerotic
component in the SA and SS had given the Nazis the crucial edge in their
struggle against the Weimar system, homophobic writers could call for the
suppression of all forms of overt male homosexuality and the enactment of even
more punitive laws - which were in fact adopted in 1935.
Contemporary America. The lingering distinction
between friendship and love based upon the absence or presence of the overt
erotic component also affects relations between homosexual men and heterosexual
women. Certain women feel more comfortable in their dealings with gay men, just
because they know that they do not have to be constantly on guard against sexual
aggression, but can have close relationships, both social and professional,
that attain high levels of creativity and imagination. Particularly in professions
where homosexuality is no handicap, there can be friendships between gay men
and women who take no offense at the male's lack of physical desire for them.
The use of "friend" or "friendship" as a euphemism for the
homosexual partner (lover) and the liaison itself persists. Recently the
compilers of newspaper obituary columns have taken to describing the lifelong
companion of a deceased homosexual as his "friend," in contexts where
a heterosexual would be survived by the spouse and children. And the author of
a bibliography of Freundschaftseros
published
in West Germany in 1964 stoutly upheld not only the distinction between
classical pederasty and modem homosexuality, but also the existence of a form
of male bonding from which the erotic element is absent.
Conclusion. The overlap since time
immemorial between friendship and eroticism persists in the ongoing debate over
the place of homosexual feeling and homosexual activity in modern society. The
advent of the gay rights movement has helped some individuals become more
accepting of the erotic nature of their attachments to friends of the same sex
- though some others have become more self-conscious and defensive. The lines
of demarcation are being continually renegotiated as part of the revolution in
moral values that has undermined many of the old norms without as yet
formulating new ones. It will be the task of the future to resolve the
antagonism rooted in the encounter of classical and Judeo-Christian attitudes
toward homoeroticism/homosociality.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
Janet L. Barkas, Friendship: A Selected, Annotated Bibliography, New York: Garland, 1985;
John W. Malone, Straight Women/Gay Men: A Special Relationship, New York: Dial Press,
1980; Stuart Miller, Men and Friendship, Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1980; Ernst Günther Welter, Bibliographie
Freundschaftseros einschliesslich Homoerotik, Homosexualität und die verwandte
und vergleichende Gebiete, Frankfurt am Main: Dipa Verlag, 1964.
Warren Johansson
Fruit
In
general English usage, this noun designates the edible reproductive body of a
seed plant, particularly one having a sweet pulp. In North American slang,
especially in the second and third quarter of the twentieth century, it has
been a disparaging epithet for a male homosexual - sometimes used in the
vocative: "Hey, fruit!"
Unlikely as it may seem, the term belongs to that significant class of words in
which a pejorative appellation at one time given to women shifted to male
homosexuals (compare gay and faggot). The explanation of this transfer is as
follows. At the end of the nineteenth century, fruit meant an easy mark, a
naive person susceptible to influence, reflecting the notion that in nature
fruits are "easy pickings. " From this sense it came to mean "a
girl or woman easy to oblige." The transfer and specialization to gay men
was probably assisted by the stereotypes that homosexuals are soft and use
scent. In the 1940s, the heterosexual counterpart was the more specific
"tomato," an available woman.
In England the expression "old fruit" is a mild term of affection
(compare "old bean"). The word may also be aclipped form of
"fruitcake" - from "nutty as a fruitcake."
The disparaging use of the term in reference to male homosexuals is now less
common, and a Los Angeles gay radio program is called (with a quaint air)
"Fruit Punch."
Wholly unrelated is the "Sodom apple," a name given to a mythical
fruit that is fair to the eye but, once touched, turns to ashes - hence
recalling the conflagration of Sodom in Genesis 19. The transformation could
be glossed metaphorically as the outcome of vain or illicit conduct.
"Through life we chase, with fond pursuit,/ What mocks our hope like
Sodom's fruit" (J. Bancks, Young's
Last Day, 1736).
See also Flower Symbolism.
Wayne R. Dynes
Fuller, Henry Blake (1857-1929)
American
novelist. Scion of an eminent Chicago family, he gradually slid into genteel
poverty and literary obscurity after enjoying early wealth and critical esteem.
He used to be remembered as the author of novels which attacked the corrupt
plutocrats of Chicago, and it is only in the last few years that attention has
been turned to his literary treatment of homosexuality, in which he was a
pioneer.
Little is known about his private life. His journals from his teenage days make
it clear that he was in love with some dormitory roommates at Allison Classical
Academy (1873-74). At the age of 19 he wrote an imaginary personal
advertisement in which he says, "I would pass by twenty beautiful women to
look upon a handsome man."
The years pass without further evidence until, at the age of 34, Fuller admits
to being in love with a 15-year-old boy whose initials are "C.N.,"
and who had blue eyes and strawberry-blonde hair. Five years later, Fuller
wrote and managed to publish a very short play, At Saint Judas's, about a homosexual who commits
suicide at the wedding of his former lover. This was strong stuff for the
period, but today this poorly-written play would be laughed at for its
melodramatic absurdities. Nevertheless, it deserves credit as the first
American play to deal explicitly with homosexuality.
Fuller did not return to this theme until 1919, when he published at his own
expense Bertram
Cope's Year, a novel about a homosexual love affair between Bertram Cope
and Arthur Lemoyne, which ends with Cope turning heterosexual. Critics agree
that Fuller lost his nerve while writing this novel and spoiled it by having
his hero end up as a conformist. Four years later, the elderly Fuller began an
affair with a college student named William Shepherd, with whom he went to
Europe. A few years later, Fuller died after Carl Van Vechten had made an
attempt to revive interest in his writings. Mention should also be made of the
letters that Fuller received in 1897 and 1898 from a homosexual Canadian named
Harold Curtis, which reveal the homosexual subculture of Toronto. Fuller saved
these letters for future historians.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
Kenneth Scambray, A Varied Harvest, Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press, 1987.
Stephen Wayne Foster
Functioning
Down to
the 1950s, psychiatric and psychological opinion held that homosexual behavior
in an adult was symptomatic of severe emotional disorder. A detached
evaluation of the homosexual personality was rendered even more difficult by
the anger, revulsion, and distaste with which many clinicians reacted. The
central difficulty, however, stemmed from the fact that for decades the
clinical picture of homosexuality had been formed by the observation of
subjects found in consulting offices, mental hospitals, or prisons. These
groups did not constitute a valid sample of the homosexual population as a
whole.
The Hooker Study. In the mid-1950s,
recognizing this bias, Evelyn Hooker of the University of California at Los
Angeles set out to investigate the adjustment of the overt homosexual. She
judged it important to obtain a sample that did not derive from skewed sources.
Thus there was a chance of finding individuals with an average psychological
adjustment. She also believed it important to obtain a comparable control group
of heterosexuals that would not only provide a standard of comparison but also
assist the clinician in suspending theoretical preconceptions. Securing both
was a difficult undertaking, but in the end she procured two samples of thirty
individuals each who were paired for age, education, and intelligence quotient.
No assumptions were made about the random selection of either group. The
materials used for the comparative study of personality structure and
adjustment of these two groups of men consisted of a battery of projective
techniques, attitude scales and intensive life history interviews - the
standard paraphernalia of the American depth psychologist of the 1950s. Experts
in the assessment of personality structure were called in to evaluate the 60
sets of records. The judges knew that some of the subjects were homosexual and
some heterosexual, but did not know which; their task was merely to tell as
much as the data revealed about the personality structure and adjustment of
each subject.
The finding of the study - epoch-making for its time - was that there were no
significant differences between the number of homosexuals having a rating of
average or better for each judge; two-thirds of each group of subjects received
an adjustment rating of average or better. In 42 out of the 60 cases the
judges agreed exactly or differed by only one step. The judges themselves
commented that the records which they thought to be homosexual were unlike the
ones familiar to them from clinical experience. Hooker concluded that healthy
skepticism was justified in regard to many of the so-called homosexual-content
signs on the Rorschach test. Moreover, no single pattern of homosexual
adjustment emerged; the richness and variety of ways in which homosexuals
adjust could not be reduced to a formula. Some homosexuals proved to be quite
ordinary individuals, indistinguishable except in their sexual orientation and
behavior from other ordinary individuals who were heterosexual. Some were even
quite superior individuals, not only devoid of pathology, but capable of
functioning at a superior level.
Hooker concluded that (1) homosexuality as a clinical entity did not exist,
that its forms were as varied as those of heterosexuality, (2) homosexuality
may be a deviation in sexual orientation that is within the normal
psychological range, and (3) the role of particular forms of sexual desire and
expression in personality structure and development might be less important
than hitherto assumed. Even if homosexuality represents a form of maladjustment
to a society that condemns it, this fact does not imply that the homosexual
subject is severely maladjusted in other areas of his behavior.
Freedman and Others. This study was replicated
in 1967 by Mark Freedman with lesbian subjects in a doctoral dissertation in
clinical psychology at Western Reserve University in Cleveland, Ohio. He even
found that the lesbians functioned better than the control group of heterosexual
women; they scored higher on autonomy, spontaneity, orientation toward the
present (as opposed to being obsessed with the past or anticipating the future),
and sensitivity to their own needs and feelings. An earlier study using Raymond
B. Cattell's 16 Personality Factor test showed the lesbian subjects as
independent, resilient, self-sufficient, and "bohemian," while a
third investigator, again using a control group, found the lesbians scoring
higher on both goal-direction and self-acceptance.
Freedman made the further point that homosexuals and lesbians, marginalized as
they are by conventional society,
do not reject all its standards and mores, but choose among them and so develop
new, stable patterns of behavior. The consciousness of alienation can lead to a
creative adaptation within a hostile environment, even if not to it. At the
same time sexual roles may be more egalitarian and sexuality more expressive
than in contemporary heterosexual milieux. There is more freedom to experiment
in both couple and group sexual activity. Even the need to hide one's true
sexual identity may render the homosexual subject quite sophisticated about
the persona of others - the tension between role-playing and covert identity.
The range of self-disclosure can also be controlled, and in a friendly setting
the homosexual can be more truthful and candid than his heterosexual
counterpart. Others pragmatically hide their sexual orientation, adapting as
best they can to the social dangers of life as a homosexual, while benefiting
from the survival skills that they have internalized.
More recent studies done in a number of countries have confirmed the
aforementioned findings. Not only are homosexuals no less psychologically adjusted
than heterosexuals, the homosexual identity may be positively correlated with
(1) psychological adjustment and (2) support of "significant others."
It cannot be judged a psychopathological phenomenon, and such differences as
can be demonstrated to exist are those directly related to the sexual
orientation itself. The differences in mental functioning for which evidence
has been found - higher verbal ability in females, higher mathematical and
scientific ability in males - are not disabilities, but correlate with a
different locus on the androgyny scale. They correspond to the evolutionary
continuum between the sexes that Magnus Hirschf eld stressed in his magisterial
work on grades of intersexuality, not adichotomy divinely ordained for all
time.
Anticipations. This recent work on the
psychological functioning of the homosexual was anticipated by what had been
learned at the end of the nineteenth century and the beginning of the twentieth.
The first homosexual subjects examined by psychiatrists were seen in the
setting of the mental hospital or the prison; usually they were severely
disturbed and individuals in conflict with society and with themselves. But
when sympathetic psychiatrists were enabled to make contact with homosexuals
in everyday life, in their homes and places of work, under conditions that
favored a relaxed confidentiality, they reversed their earlier judgment. At a
meeting of the Berlin Psychiatric Society on June 8,1891, the discussion
following a paper concluded that homosexuality in and of itself is no mental
illness for the following reasons:
(1) there
is no clouding of consciousness or disturbance of the rational mind;
(2) there is no irresistible impulse;
(3) the subject has no delusion as to the character of his own sexual organs or
those of the partner;
(4) the subject is aware that his sexual orientation differs from that of the
majority of the population.
Papers
written later in the decade, when such writers as Moll, Chevalier, and Raf f
alovich had published their monographs on the subject, argued that an individual
who successfully deceives his surroundings as to his true sexual orientation
and activity quite as well as does the undercover agent in a hostile milieu cannot
be judged mentally ill or lacking in responsibility. The homosexual subject is
as responsible, legally and morally, for his sexual conduct as is the
heterosexual one. The condemnation of homosexual behavior on religious grounds
does not alter the personality functioning of the homosexual in any objective
manner. Whether the sexual activity of the population should be exclusively
with members of the opposite sex is an issue of sexual politics that falls
outside the empirical question of whether or not the homosexual functions
efficiently and purposefully in his milieu and in the face of the obstacles
that an intolerant society poses to his quest for sexual gratification.
Conclusion. Beginning with the pioneer
study by Evelyn Hooker, modern investigators have overturned the assumption
that homosexuals are less able to cope with their life tasks than are
heterosexuals, or that homosexuality is in and of itself a pathological
entity. The research of the future should address the question of the manner of
their adjustment and the subtleties of the interaction between society and the
homosexual as a paradigm of survival in a hostile environment.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
Mark Freedman, Homosexuality and Psychological Functioning, Belmont, CA: Brooks/Cole,
1971; Sue K. Hammersmith and Martin S. Weinberg, "Homosexual Identity:
Commitment, Adjustment, and Significant Others," Sociometiy, 36 (1973), 56-79; Evelyn
Hooker, "The Adjustment of the Male Overt Homosexual," Journal of Projective
Techniques, 21 (1957), 18-31;Paul Kronthal, Discussion of Lewin,
"Ueber perverse und conträre Sexual-Empfindungen. [Forenischer Fall]/ Neurologisches
Centralblatt, 10 (1981), 378-79; Martin Willmott and Harry Brierley,
"Cognitive Characteristics and Homosexuality," Archives of Sexual
Behavior, 13 (1984), 311-19.
Warren Johansson
Fundamentalism
See Protestantism.