“In truth, I believe this book will save someones life,” says one of the blurbs in Jonathan Langford’s novel No Going Back. I agree, it’s quite likely. Through the experiences of Paul (a gay Mormon teen) — and of the LDS bishop who takes a special interest in his young charge — Langford paints a rich and honest portrait of exactly what Mormonism offers its gay male members. It may well serve as a lifeline of honesty for those youth who are drowning in the sea of deadly lies, such as those re-iterated by Elder Hafen and disseminated through the LDS newsroom last week: You’re diseased and your feelings are an unspeakably shameful perversion, but you’ll be cured if you’re righteous enough.
In this book, homosexuality is an integral (and involuntary) part of certain people’s character. Langford makes a case for the radical idea that gay people shouldn’t be blamed or ashamed for being gay.
Langford clearly sees the LDS church as being good and right and spiritually fulfilling, yet he doesn’t shy away from portraying the cruelty that is inspired by viewing “same-sex attraction” as a disease or perversion. For example, Paul has his eagle rank refused because of his orientation and is harassed so severly (by fellow Mormons) that he and his mother eventually decide that the only solution is for him to go back into the closet (strangely enough, given the title). Langford also accurately and even-handedly portrays the other side as Paul’s gay friends refuse to be supportive of Paul’s Mormon beliefs (including his political support for an anti-gay-marriage ballot initiative), which Paul sees as hypocritical intolerance on their part.
Being biased (as a non-believer), I feel like Langford was almost too honest for Mormon comfort about the price vs. the rewards of staying in Mormonism. He describes spiritual experiences that are deeply meaningful to Paul, but they hardly seem to compensate for the gratuitous cruelty of a church tells him that he can’t spend his life with someone he’s in love with. And not because he’s been called to a higher, more respected calling than marriage — as is the case for Catholicism’s celibate priests and nuns — but because he’s taught that his “in-love” feeling is inferior to that of others.
Langford takes the young gay male reader under his wing and (in an dialog between Bishop Rick and his FiL) explains exactly what patriarchy offers:
Rose dismissed herself for the night, giving Richard a hug and saying, Ill just leave you two to talk about whatever it is men talk about till all hours of the night. Richard watched as she left the room.
Shes a wonderful woman, his father-in-law commented.
That she is.
A better person than I am. I tell you, Richard, the older I get the more convinced I am that if we men make it to the celestial kingdom, itll be by hanging onto our wives coattails.
If they dont just flick us back where we came from, Richard responded ruefully.
Charles looked at him a moment. We didnt talk much at Christmas. How have things been, what with work and a young family and your calling and all?
Richard squirmed a bit mentally. Talking to his father-in-law was a bit like getting a personal priesthood interview from the stake president. A kindly, gentle personal priesthood interview, but still it always made Richard think about areas where he wasnt doing as well as he should.
[… Then the men get down to a serious discussion of bishoply business — especially Paul’s situation — after which the conversation turns to Bishop Rick’s wife, Sandy …]
What you have to understand, Charles said slowly, was that things werent terribly good between Sandy and the rest of the family right then. Did you know we offered to let her stay at home without paying any rent while she was attending college? Richard shook his head. She wouldnt have any of it. Wanted to be independent. We hardly even saw her after she started college, except when she came home to do her laundry.
Sandy wasnt too happy with the church growing up. She had a testimony, I think, but a lot of times it only seemed to make her angry. She resented the church, she resented the rules, she resented the time the church took away from us as a family… Charles frowned. When Sandy was seventeen and just starting her senior year, she informed us that she was going to have a career and not marry anyone until she was in her thirties at least. We didnt take it completely seriously. She was always making dramatic pronouncements she didnt necessarily mean. But still… At one point, she actually said shed rather die than live the kind of empty, wasted life her mother had led. When she left home, I admit I wasnt entirely sorry to see her go.
[… FiL gives a few more touching insights about Bishop Rick’s wife, and Bishop Rick immediately contemplates how to apply those insights to the plight of his little gay friend …]
They were both quiet for a moment. Richard wondered what Charles was thinking. At last he said, Richard, the thing you have to remember as a bishop — the thing I didnt remember nearly often enough — is to focus on the big issues, the things that only you as a bishop can do. The things that make a real difference in the lives of your ward members. Let the details take care of themselves.
The older man stood and stretched. Time for me to pack these old bones into my bed. It was good talking with you, son.
As Richard returned his father-in-laws firm embrace, he thought what a blessing it was that he had someone like this in his life, someone who — unlike his own father — could be an example of the kind of man Richard wanted to be. Honestly, if he and Sandy ever divorced, Richard thought hed miss his relationship with Charles almost as much as hed miss her.
Wow — sounds pretty tempting, don’t you think?
Sadly for you, young gay male Mormon reader, your rightful role as patriarch — with all the respect and responsibility of that office — comes at a price, as Langford has his gay teen character explain:
Just this past week when hed been shaking hands with the bishop, he felt a kind of warmth bubbling up inside him when he realized hed been keeping all his promises and didnt have anything to be ashamed or disappointed about that week. He imagined feeling that way all the time. It was a feeling he wanted to keep.
And then there was the whole getting-married-to-a-girl part.
He could imagine being married. He could imagine having a wife and a family. But not falling in love with a girl. A woman.
It wasnt about sex, Paul realized. He could have sex with a girl. It would be a physical release, without any real emotional connection, kind of like masturbation. But he could do it. That minute of half-response when he was hugging Sarah in the GSA meeting was enough to make him pretty sure about that.
But would I really feel happy living that way?
Deep inside himself, there was a part of Paul that really wanted to be with another guy. Not just to have sex but to feel all romantic and, well, sappy with. Someone to snuggle up next to. Someone to hug and be hugged back by. Someone to have fun with and to understand him and make him feel better when he was sad. Someone to be with him all the time and share his life with.
Paul could imagine himself falling in love with a guy really, really easily. But that wasnt what the gospel said would bring him joy.
Paul might also have asked himself: “Would a woman really feel happy living in such a marriage with me? Or would it perhaps be selfish of me to try to convince another person to give up her own chance at having ‘someone to share her life with’ in order to serve as my masturbation receptacle?” But he didn’t.
Anyway, as you can see from the above, Langford does an impressive job of explaining that gay love isn’t just about sex. And he gets it right, as confirmed by Mr. FOB.
Interestingly, however, Langford seems unable to grasp (or believe) that straight men might feel that same way about women. Langford gives the straight teen (Chad) real feelings when it comes to his concern for his gay friend (Paul). But when it comes time to demonstrate that Chad is straight, Langford phones in a joyless attempt at a Jack Weyland formula for him. But that’s nothing compared to what Langford gives to Bishop Rick. When his wife is (unsurprisingly) distraught at his distancing himself from her, Bishop Rick eventually (after the man-to-man discussion with FiL, above) has an epiphany that he needs to move his wife’s emotional needs to a higher-priority slot on his “to-do” list. Meanwhile, he doesn’t need any reminding when it comes to his little gay friend Paul’s emotional needs — indeed Bishop Rick isn’t shown to genuinely care about anything else.
If my own impression of marriage were as bleak and depressing as Langford’s, I sure as hell wouldn’t be defending the institution, much less getting mixed up in a marriage myself. Fortunately, marriage can be a little different than that when the partners’ genders and orientations match up better. And one can hardly fault Langford for being unfamiliar with what matched-orientation marriages are like, even as he strives to “defend” the straight ones.
All-in-all, I would definitely recommend giving this book to any and all gay male Mormon teens. While they’re making critical decisions about where the LDS church should fit into their lives, they deserve an honest picture to base their choices on.
Paul might also have asked himself: Would a woman really feel happy living in such a marriage with me? Or would it perhaps be selfish of me to try to convince another person to give up her own chance at having someone to share her life with in order to serve as my masturbation receptacle? But he didnt.
This is a teenager we’re talking about here. If Paul had had such a non-self-centered thought, I wouldn’t have believed him as a character. Granted, it would have been nice if one of the adult characters had pointed this out, but then none of the adult characters in my life did, so my expectations of adult characters are set pretty low.
Fortunately, marriage can be a little different than that when the partners genders and orientations match up better. And one can hardly fault Langford for being unfamiliar with what matched-orientation marriages are like, even as he strives to defend the straight ones.
This is a really interesting point, and you’ve made me rethink this aspect of the book–as well as some of my own ideas about love and marriage. At the same time, I feel like you’re oversimplifying several things here: Richard and Sandy’s relationship, the reasons Langford portrays their relationship as he does, and marriage itself. I see Richard and Sandy’s relationship as problematic, and I think it’s pretty clear that that’s intentional on Langford’s part. Their relationship problems make for perhaps the most dominant subplot of the book. He’s not portraying an ideal, he’s portraying a single instance of reality. I don’t think that any relationship, mixed- or same-orientation, succeeds without both partners consciously working to recognize and satisfy the other’s needs. And yes, I’m speaking from the limited experience of a MOM, but in my observation most people have to make a conscious effort to recognize their partner’s needs, regardless of how much they love them. I disagree with your assessment that Richard doesn’t genuinely care about Sandy and his relationship with her. He at least cares enough to alter his way of seeing the world in order to better understand hers.
I do think it’s interesting that there don’t seem to be any relationships in the book that reflect that emotional closeness that Paul wants in a gay relationship. Richard and Sandy might be working on it, but they definitely don’t have it, and there really aren’t many other couples to speak of in the book’s cast. I’m not willing to conclude from this that Langford simply doesn’t understand how this closeness could exist in same-orientation marriage, though. Yes, that’s one possibility, but it’s also possible that he simply chose to portray a couple working toward achieving that closeness, rather than a couple already enjoying it. Novels, after all, are built on conflict.
Thanks for the book review. I need to read it.
And one can hardly fault Langford for being unfamiliar with what matched-orientation marriages are like, even as he strives to defend the straight ones.
Of course we can fault him for that. Novelists should do research, and should strive to present realistic portrayals of the characters and situations they present–including characters completely unlike them.
If Langford hasn’t been able to glean from reading literature and watching movies about straight relationships something about what straight attraction involves for those who feel it, he should have done research. The least he could have done is ASKED someone.
If this were a serious novel by a straight author trying to deal honestly and meaningfully with gay characters, s/he’d be slammed if he failed to do that, if his/her presentation of their desires and hopes and fears was lifeless, obligatory and unconvincing.
As I have long argued, and as the comments on the discussion here about Bruce Hafen’s notorious talk also point out, the LDS church considers homosexuality a male issue. Lesbians seem not to exist, and the happiness and satisfaction of straight women is of far less importance than the need for gay men to have wives, children, lives that let them keep their priesthood and their sense of righteousness.
In other words, straight women are useful objects–the creatures whose coattails men must hang onto to get into the celestial kingdom–rather than persons in their own right, whereas unicorns–I mean lesbians–are mythical creatures you don’t really discuss in serious conversations dealing with reality.
In short, the church’s approach to homosexuality is one of the areas in which its misogyny is most obvious and unapologetic.
It seems to me that Langford’s novel is a product of fantasy–what he wishes would happen in the lives of gay teens and the not-very-interested-in-women adult men who love them, rather than a product of imagination–struggling to realize what probably would happen in the lives of gay teens and the men who must counsel them, most of whom are probably straight and some of whom might even be the men who make the first weekend in April and the first weekend in October the busiest time of the year for SLC prostitutes.
Yes and no.
I’d say it’s unlikely (under normal circumstances) for a teenage boy to be introspecting about the fact that true love is about more than just sex (cuddling and laughing together). But I’m willing to believe that circumstances have motivated Paul to think hard about this subject. I don’t think it would have been totally unrealistic — given his level of introspection — to have followed that thought train all the way to the station where he recognizes that any person might want such a relationship, inculding women. Espcially considering this statement that Paul made earlier regarding learning about marriage:
You may be right, however, that Langston’s version is realistic. I haven’t faulted his realism, BTW. Rather, I think the book is too honest about what an ugly thing the church is doing to this innocent kid, and precisely how it happens.
Not true. Paul’s relationship with Chad, Paul’s relationship with Bishop Rick, and Bishop Rick’s relationship with his FiL all have that “someone to understand me” emotional closeness aspect (even if they’re not romantic relationships).
Paul’s not describing marriage in the quote I pulled above. That’s his fantasy gay relationship. In this book’s universe, “marriage” isn’t about emotional closeness at all, it’s a trial to be endured in order to achieve exaltation.
It’s no wonder he’s willing to leave “marriage” for other people. If I thought that’s what marriage is, I certainly wouldn’t want to debase my own true love by mixing it up with “marriage”.
I wrote essentially these same comments back when I gave Langston feedback on an earlier draft of his novel. And since I’m on the credits list as someone who gave him feedback, I was thinking he might have axed the subplot about Bishop Rick’s loveless marriage, or at least toned it down a little. I’m glad he didn’t, though, because it strongly contributes to the honest portrait of the church’s offering for gay men by illustrating graphically what a horrible tragedy a mixed-orientation marriage can be for all involved.
I agree that a marriage isn’t always easy, but when the partners are motivated by love and respect for one another, the difficulties can be easier to overcome.
[I’m not saying anything about your personal impression of marriage, Mr. FOB — only about Langford’s. I assume that what you would write about it would be very different.]
This is one point where I think the author demonstrates a lack of introspection. The wife, Sandy, is portrayed as having the mental and emotional level of an adolescent. She demonstrates less maturity than her teenage son, and Bishop Rick essentially plays the indulgent (yet negligent) parent for the lot of them, including his wife. It would be different if the author had shown that Bishop Rick thinks of his wife that way, but the author leaves us winking hints that Bishop Rick’s opinion may be wrong. But instead it’s the author who characterizes her that way, and shows us how inconvenient it is for Bishop Rick and his son to have to treat her as though she were a full-fledged adult.
Again I can almost hear you crying “It’s fiction! And some adults really are as immature as twelve-year-olds!”
Very true, and I wouldn’t be reading anything into it at all if Langford had portrayed a range of different female types. But the two other main female characters we meet (Paul’s mother and his friend) are essentially blank vessels full of nothing but concern for Paul’s plight. There’s a meta-story here about what happens when patriarchy is offered (to men) as a consolation prize for giving up on love. The meta-story tells what that can do to one’s opinion of women, and the face-value story illustrates how it is accomplished.
Again, I don’t want to be directing this as criticism of you (Mr. FOB) because I know you’ve spent time contemplating this, and hence this doesn’t reflect your personal situation. However, if Langford wants to wave this warning flag for us, I think we should take it seriously.
There’s only one point where I think the story lacks honesty: The story reads as a gay man’s fantasy of filling the emotional void in his life by reaching out and playing the father figure to a gay youth who needs a father’s emotional support. So why did Langford bother with this charade of having Bishop Rick tell himself that he can’t relate to Paul’s struggle with “same-gender attraction”? Why not state directly that this is the parallel story showing where Paul’s choices will lead? I mean, Langford’s goal is to explain that it’s OK for Paul to have these feelings as long as he doesn’t act on them — so why not kill two birds with one stone and give the same message about faithful adult gay men in straight marriages?
Then it hit me why.
If he had stated that Bishop Rick is also gay, then the worthiness interviews about Paul’s sexuality would take on a completely different tone, as would the bishop’s request that Paul call him every day for a progress report on his chastity goals. That’s a picture I think Langford doesn’t want to be painting for his believing Mormon readers…
We’ve cross-posted, but (as you can see from my comments above) I totally concur with this.
Carol,
Thanks for the review especially considering that clearly, some of the characters set your teeth on edge.
Some points of difference…
Its true that Richard and Sandy arent the best example of happy married life. Nor are they meant to be. It was never any part of my goal to hold them up as a model nor, so far as I can tell, have any of my other readers assumed this was the case. Nor is it at all similar to my own marriage.
And wow! Just how condescending can we be on the personal relationships front? Clearly, Jonathan dear, you just dont understand what a good marriage is like… You really dont have the knowledge of me or my situation to justify such a conclusion. If your assumption is based on the evidence of how Richard’s marriage is portrayed–well, again, you’ve made an assumption that I’m holding it up as an ideal, which I’m really not.
As for Chad and his six-week semi-relationship with Janice… I think youre severely overstating the case to call it a joyless attempt at a Jack Weyland formula. Granted that all my reading of Jack Weyland was decades ago, still I cant think of much of a formula that this fits, beyond the whole clueless guy and smart girl talk at a tacky Church dance. What Im trying to show is the whole awkward-beginning-at-social-interactions-with-girls phase, not a failed romance.
Really, it wasnt any part of my intention in this book to provide a defense of marriage and/or heterosexual Mormon relationships though I also think theres more to Richard and Sandys relationship than you give them credit for. They both came into marriage (as all of us do, I would venture to say) with some blind spots and unresolved issues which, in the stress of their new and changed life circumstances, have risen up to bite them in the behind. Working through that has the potential to make their marriage stronger, though all we get in the story is the possibility of a breakthrough in this area.
Balancing Sandy’s admitted immaturity, in my view, is the fact that when it comes to her relationship with Richard, she’s fundamentally right as to what the problems are. The dynamic is more complex than Richard-parent Sandy-teenager.
On the broader point of whether the Church offers viable/desirable options for gay males…
Theres a different novel, somewhere down the line, that could be written about Paul (or any other gay Mormon) after his mission, when hes at the point of confronting for real the question you quote him contemplating about possible future relationships. As a teenager, I daresay the notion of spending his life with someone is still somewhat unreal to him. The basic question in his life at the moment isnt future romantic relationships, but rather identity and acceptance. The business of middle adolescence, as it were.
Most of us at least, most guys dont look around ourselves at 15/16 and ask if the relationships we see justify the risk and hassle of getting married. (And yes, theres a risk and hassle even if youre straight especially if, say, youre a child of divorce, and aware of just how bad things can get when a marriage goes wrong.) Thats the kind of contemplation that from my observation tends to happen more in ones early twenties. I dont see any reason why Paul wouldnt be the same way.
What Im saying here is that a novel about middle adolescence really isnt a good setting for presenting the pros and cons and various options of an adult same-sex attracted Mormon staying in the Church: celibate, or heterosexually married, or hoping for a cure through some kind of Evergreen-type program. The issues and accommodations and compensations arent ones that most teenagers are in a position to understand, let alone judge. In some ways, Im pushing it already to have Paul considering the issue as thoughtfully as he does, in the scene you quote but I felt a need to tip the hat to some of whats ahead for him. I think its credible that he would be thinking about that, even if hes not wired yet to really viscerally understand it.
If the result is a novel thats too honest for Mormon comfort, well, thats a reality that I think Church members need to deal with if they/we want to support kids who are dealing with these kinds of attractions.
Interestingly, the reaction Ive gotten from other believing Mormons who have read the book including a stake president, former bishop, former mission president, etc. was that they felt this was a fundamentally faith-affirming book. Maybe thats because, as Carol suggests, Pauls spiritual experiences are likely to carry more weight for such readers than for non-believers. Well have to see what the reactions are like once it starts being more widely read…
With respect to this:
Paul might also have asked himself: Would a woman really feel happy living in such a marriage with me? Or would it perhaps be selfish of me to try to convince another person to give up her own chance at having someone to share her life with in order to serve as my masturbation receptacle? But he didnt.
We do get a suggestion of this point, in the conversation between Paul’s mother and another sister at Church about her daughter’s failed marriage:
But I do know what its like to have my son-in-law, someone Id come to love like my own son, call me in tears to say that hes gay and he and my daughter will be getting a divorce because he cant live a lie anymore. Barbara looked at her, eyes wide. She knew one of Sister Moseleys daughters had gotten a divorce but hadnt heard any details about it. I still love the boy, and sometimes I want to tear him limb from limb for what he put my daughter and their kids through. And I wish to God hed talked with someone about it back when he was a teenager, instead of just hiding it and hoping it would go away. She gave Barbara a fierce look. Dont let Paul do that.
I didn’t have Paul consider it because, as I mentioned above, I felt I was already pushing the limits for just how thoughtful a 15-year-old might be on points like this.
Looking over the follow-up comments you’ve posted, one of the things that bothers me about your discussion of the role of females and marriage in the book, Carol, is that you’re taking absence of evidence as evidence of absence. I don’t present a positive heterosexual marriage, therefore I don’t have a positive view of marriage. I don’t develop other characters as much as I develop Sandy, therefore I believe that females are immature. I just don’t think that holds water. It’s legitimate to point out the absence, but not to draw conclusions from it.
Carol wrote:
The story reads as a gay mans fantasy of filling the emotional void in his life by reaching out and playing the father figure to a gay youth who needs a fathers emotional support. So why did Langford bother with this charade of having Bishop Rick tell himself that he cant relate to Pauls struggle with same-gender attraction?
Wow! That’s remarkably objectifying of male affection. Richard has a close emotional connection with Paul, so he must be gay? I’ve seen a lot of interaction of this type in the Church, without any homoerotic overtones I could detect. Indeed, one of the positive strengths of LDS culture, as I see it, is that it provides avenues where expression of male affection in a nonsexualized way is actually more accepted than in mainstream American society. Would you have the same perception if this was interaction between two females?
Jonathan — I specifically said in an email to you that if I discuss this book online, some of the criticisms may come off as personal (because of the connection with your own experiences). And you said to go ahead.
I’m sorry if this review screws up my chances of other people giving me review copies of other indie works, but if you follow my book reviews, you’ll note that I do tend to armchair psychoanalyze the authors, and I’ve been doing it since my first posted book review. So let this be a warning to the many people who send me manuscripts: I will be analyzing what your text says about you. However, I will be gentle about it in print (unless given specific permission to be more frank).
Jonathan, in the story, you portray several male-male relationships that are filled with the warmth of emotional connection that aligns with the kind of closeness that Paul describes as an ideal relationship. You also show several straight romantic relationships without including a drop of emotional connection in any of them. Sure, I may be guilty of taking “absence of evidence as evidence of absence,” but it’s not a question of just one example or two in your text.
You can feel free to disagree with my analysis. Obviously I bring my own biases to the table as I read any work. And I’m not at all surprised that faithful Mormons find the work faith-promoting.
Look, you’ve written a character who forms profound emotional bonds with men (his Fil and his young charge) and not with women. And you wrote in your text that being gay isn’t just about sex, it’s about emotional bonding. At the very least, (as Holly suggests) you need to do a little more research before writing a (supposedly) straight male character.
I’ve written similar criticisms about men trying to write female characters, and I’ve addressed the same issue in my own work when writing male characters. I don’t see how this relates to “objectification” except as a knee-jerk “I’m rubber and you’re glue” response to Holly’s comment.
You’re right, Chanson, in that Paul’s relationship with Richard has elements of teen gay male fantasy in it–no doubt this is part of the reason the book struck a chord with the teen gay male in me. I don’t see it as so fantastic that it’s outside the realm of imagined possibility, though. I don’t claim to be entirely objective here, but this didn’t bother me, personally.
I also see Sandy as immature and I did see and was bothered by hints of a parent-child dynamic in hers and Richard’s relationship, but I agree with Jonathan’s point about the resolution to their problems turning that parent-child dynamic on its side. If anything, their relationship is portrayed as problematic precisely because of the patriarchal nature of it, and things get better only once they acknowledge the problem and begin to create a new dynamic based in equality. Sandy begins to behave like an adult and Richard stops behaving like a self-righteous prick. I don’t see how such a portrayal is anti-feminist or anti-woman.
I disagree with your claim that Sandy is the only well-developed female character, though. I don’t see Barbara as an empty husk. Yes, through most of the book she’s concerned about her son, which I would hope any parent in her situation would be. But she is concerned for him and expresses it in ways that are unique to her character and very mature. I see several well-developed female characters in this book–Sarah and others at the GSA, Janice, even most of the minor characters in the ward were portrayed with distinct personalities.
You’re also right about most if not all of the emotional intimacy in the book being in same-sex relationships. Besides the Richard-Paul dynamic, the portrayal of Paul and Chad’s friendship is touching, and that was a great appeal of the book to me. I like buddy books. I don’t see the honest portrayal of intimate male friendships as necessarily homoerotic or misogynistic. I see the portrayal of Sandy’s relationship with her best friend as equally touching. No, we don’t see such emotional intimacy in opposite-sex relationships with this book, and that’s interesting, but I don’t know that it’s problematic.
You’ve made a lot of fascinating observations about the book, Chanson–some I’d noticed and some I hadn’t, but most of which I agree with. It’s when you jump from observations to broad conclusions, beyond what the observations support, that I disagree with you.
(And by the way, thank you for the repeated assurances that you aren’t commenting on me or my life. By this point I know you well enough to know you aren’t, even without the assurances, but it’s kind of you nonetheless.)
the book is too honest about what an ugly thing the church is doing to this innocent kid, and precisely how it happens.
the depiction seems simultaneously too honest and not honest enough. It’s too honest for comfort among people who have very simplistic ideas about homosexuality, and not honest enough to encourage meaningful change. Saying, “Let’s look closely at this person’s suffering” while refusing to say, “Let’s look closely at the hypocrisy, misogyny, rigid gender roles and defenses of patriarchy that enable this suffering” is to be dishonest and blind.
Ultimately, this book comes across as a defense of patriarchy, male power, male privilege and male perspective. It’s not surprising that Langford touts the reaction of a bunch of MEN–“including a stake president, former bishop, former mission president, etc”–who wield power in the Mormon church and announces that “they felt this was a fundamentally faith-affirming book.”
In other words, the people whose positions and power the book defends, like the way it defends their positions and power. Go figure.
So it works as dogma-reinforcement for those who want to see their dogma reinforced, and fails for those who are interested in good literature with a full cast of well-developed characters.
Ben — I don’t think Langford’s male-male relationships are specifically homoerotic (as in having an underlying romantic interest). However, I do feel like the book reflects his perception that true emotional bonding is something that takes place between men, and he doesn’t connect with the idea that emotional intimacy can exist in a straight romance.
On the surface, it’s a case where this is a first novel, and Langford has written what he knows. He’s a gay guy in a mixed-orientation marriage, and he’s written a character that looks a whole lot like a gay guy in a mixed-orientation marriage (I’ve read a few real-life memoirs about it), and isn’t convincing as a straight guy. I don’t think it ought to be controversial to point out that the author is a little weak on portraying characters that are far from his own personal experience. Unless you (or Jonathan) think there’s some shame in this character being gay.
The more I think about it, though, the more I think that Bishop Rick’s supposed straightness is part of the fantasy. It’s not that Langford wants his connection with Paul to be sexual — that’s really not even on his radar (as far as I can tell). Instead, it’s that — in the wonderful patriarchy that Langford offers his young gay male readers — emotional bonding (and serious responsibility) are things to be shared among men. Even the straight men agree! The women can come knocking on that door, but we brothers agree that we don’t want to let them in.
I know misogyny is a pretty strong word to be bandying about. I don’t think I would have said it (or thought it) if it weren’t for the way this story fits so neatly into Mormonism’s standard teachings about women.
Chanson,
Taking points more or less one at a time…
As I recall, you stated:
“Because of the autobiographical component, it is easy to take it personally.”
To which I replied: “I’d prefer it if you were very careful in discussing any ‘autobiographical’ connections in my story. While there are experiences in my life that have informed what I’ve written here–for example, my experience as a believing Mormon–I don’t see the main character as being all that closely based on me.”
Perhaps there was some mutual misunderstanding here. In any event, so long as we’re clear that the basis of the assumptions you’re making about me is what you’re seeing in the book, I suppose I don’t have any reason to cry foul–though I do disagree with both your conclusions and your assumptions, and some of your means of analysis. More specifically, I think what you’ve done is analyze a pattern you see as part of the book, assume it says something about me, and then use what you think it says about me as further evidence for your interpretation of the book.
The result is a reading that is, I think, rather eccentric–no one else that I know has seen Richard as a closeted-to-himself gay man (and certainly that’s not what was in my mind as I was writing him)–but then, literary analysis is largely about eccentric interpretations, so if it’s sustainable, go for it…
On a more specific level, I’d dispute your claim that I show “several” straight romantic relationships. Richard and Sandy I’ll grant you. Chad and Janice I don’t think really count, for reasons I outlined above. I can’t think of any others that appear at all. Am I forgetting something, in the haze of authorness?
The book is, admittedly, much more about male-male relationships than about male-female relationships. There are also a few instances of female-female relationships, though presented much more briefly (because the female characters don’t play as central a role in the story.) While all of them display a “warmth of emotional connection,” they’re also lacking some of the key characteristics that Paul wants in his idealized romantic relationship. It is, in the end, largely a book about friendship. The fact that this isn’t contextualized by a parallel discourse about romantic relationships (except to a limited degree in the case of Richard and Sandy)doesn’t, I think, really say anything except that heterosexual (or homosexual, for that matter) romance just simply isn’t there that much in the book.
I guess that’s a difference in what you and I are saying: you see a parallel discourse of heterosexual romance with which same-sex relationships can be meaningfully compared, but I really don’t think the book presents enough fodder in the area of romance to make a meaningful comparison.
As to “objectification”: possibly the wrong word. I tend to have a bit of a knee-jerk reaction to the suggestion that displays of male affection are inherently homoerotic–an idea which I do see as objectifying male affection. Or if not homoerotic, that they’re inherently associated with gay characters, which is very nearly as bad.
Has Holly read the book? If so, then I accept her opinion as a valid reader’s opinion about whether or not Richard is convincing as a straight male character. If not, she’s simply replaying your comments. (This is an honest question: I don’t recall distributing a reader copy to her, but I did more or less give you permission to share yours among those who might be taking part in the conversation.) In any event, most readers of the book so far (as far as I can tell) have not had this problem with Richard as a believable straight character. So I have to balance the call for me to do more research in order to get it right with the fact that all of the other readers who’ve commented on his character do seem to think I’ve gotten it right.
This is part of the problem with the circularity of psychological criticism. You see Richard as a non-convincing straight person. You use that (and the fact that I wrote much more convincing male friendships) as evidence that I don’t know what I’m talking about in the realm of straight relationships and that my novel is therefore a gay adult male fantasy. You then use that as an explanation for why Richard isn’t a believable straight character. In the process, certain “truth” become established: that I’m in a mixed-orientation marriage, that Richard isn’t really straight, etc. But there’s very little evidence for any of these beyond your own assumptions and personal reactions.
Holly wrote:
Ultimately, this book comes across as a defense of patriarchy, male power, male privilege and male perspective. Its not surprising that Langford touts the reaction of a bunch of MENincluding a stake president, former bishop, former mission president, etcwho wield power in the Mormon church and announces that they felt this was a fundamentally faith-affirming book.
Back to me… If you go to my website (www.langfordwriter.com) you’ll find several positive quotes from women I consider to be at least as wise, insightful, etc., about what constitutes faith-affirming stuff as the men I mentioned. Certainly I should have mentioned those as well. The fact that I didn’t is that I was trying to make a point using hallmarks of perceived orthodoxy. But let that pass.
I think it’s more or less self-evident that a book mostly about male characters will *be* mostly about male characters. I don’t see that as necessarily constituting a privileging of male perspective, but whatever.
I’ve actually had quite a few people who like my book who think the characters are well-developed, etc. I don’t really see a value in name-calling against those who like a book you (apparently) dislike. What value does it serve?
Lest I seem to be rejecting everything here: Yes, I think Chanson has made some good observations about the book and what it does and doesn’t include. Some that I disagree with, but can see as reasonable from her (very different) perspective. Some where I think her reading of the evidence is suspect, and have tried to present what I think are more valid interpretations.
I don’t believe in a stereotype that gay men can’t make connections with women. In fact, I’m much better an emotional connections with women than I am with men and I’m much better at emotional connections with women than my straight friends.
I haven’t read the novel, so I can’t review Richard and Sandy’s relationship/marriage or the portrayal of male/female friendships/relationships in the novel.
But there are all sorts of strained straight marriage relationships throughout the world of fiction – from “Anna Karenina” to “The Color Purple”. So I’m not sure why that type of complex/nuanced relationship is problematic. Both of those novels had strong female characters, however.
To respond to #7 – So young LDS mormon men aren’t given the same pressures to get married and think about their “eternal” partner? I remember countless young women’s and Sunday School lessons about that topic. Perhaps there was a heavier emphasis for women – but I definitely think it would be possible for a 15 year old (male or female) to be thinking about what type of marriage/partner they want to spend their life with.
Particularly with the stereotypically young age that some LDS get married at. Just like many fifteen year olds would also be thinking about going to college or what job/career they wanted to pursue in life.
I have other comments, but I think I should probably read the novel first.
Jonathan:
I have not read your book. I couldn’t even sit through your presentation during the gay Mormon lit project at Sunstone. Hearing you discuss your ideas about the book was so objectionable that I walked out on your talk and came back when you were done. I have, however, heard the book discussed outside of this forum, and am basing my reaction on more than chanson’s comments here.
I will also point out that I have thought long and hard about works by and about gay men, and the way women are depicted in those works. I refer you to this blog entry on Movies About Men, For Women and this one on the Latter Gay Gaze. I have also published an essay in Sunstone critiquing the misogyny inherent in attitudes like yours, and how resistant men are to admitting or doing anything about that misogyny.
Honestly, your defensiveness here reminds me of one in which a guy who tried to argue that he wasn’t a homophobe (even though he thinks homosexuality will destroy civilization) finally ‘fessed up and acknowledged that he is. If you aren’t really interested in women, don’t care about exploring their lives, and don’t think it matters that your female characters are pretty one-dimensional, why not just cop to the fact that your first novel is misogynist, and (provided it matters to you), promise to do better in your second novel?
If you do want to attempt such a thing, remember to make sure your work passes the Bechdel test, which means that it has
1. At least two women characters
2. who talk to each other
3. about something other than a man.
Lest I seem to be rejecting everything here
Jonathan, if you are not grown up enough to accept A) that there will be people who HATE your book and B) that they have the right to say so as forcefully as they are able, you shouldn’t be publishing.
Once something is in print and you can’t revise it any more, you just have to live with some bad reviews. Trying to respond to them in detail and to convince people that they just didn’t understand you or your work–it’s not only fruitless, it makes you look pathetic.
Turn off your computer, go work on your next project, and acquire some dignity. Wait a month before you read these comments again, and THEN try to figure out how they can inform your next work.
I think that you are right, Rex, that there are a lot of gay men who have have excellent relationships with women. I always thought that the stereotype was actually the other way around.
Perhaps, I don’t know my stereotypes /self-aggrandizing humor.
In a marriage, of course, you would also want to have sex and desire.
Yes, you are. There’s also the failed relationship between Paul’s parents (who can hardly talk to one another), and the relationship between FiL and MiL that I quoted above. Perhaps that scene was short enough that you didn’t notice it, but — short as it is — it speaks volumes about their relationship.
So what it comes down to is this: You and Mr. FOB (Ben) think you did a reasonable job of portraying straight women, straight men, and their romantic relationships. I (a straight woman in a straight marriage) totally disagree. Ultimately, it’s just my opinion, but I’d be very surprised if you have (m)any straight readers who write in to tell you how much they relate to Bishop Rick or Sandy. Meanwhile, their particular marital difficulties match very closely the stories I’ve read and heard from gay men who have chosen to marry women.
I don’t have a problem with portraying strained marital relationships. The problem is the total absence of male-female emotional bonding throughout the work. Again, it’s fiction, and many marriages lack an emotional connection, but it’s a little strange in a work that claims to hold up marriage as something to value and aspire to.
You’re absolutely right about gay men forming close friendship bonds with women. I’d go so far as to say the stereotype is the opposite. Gay men and straight women are known for their close friendships.
But, if you look closely, you’ll see I never said that if a male character forms emotional bonds with women, then I question whether he’s really gay. What I said is the converse: If a male character forms deep emotional bonds with men and not with women (his wife, for example), then I start to question whether he’s really straight.
#22 – Okay, now I understand some of the comments better here. The depth of characters, how believable/realistic they are and the quality of their relationships are all fair game when critiquing any work of fiction.
Even if the characters were partially based on real people – what matters is how effectively the author is able to portray those characters as complex as the inspirations are (the people who may have inspired or partially inspired the fictional characters).
That is incredibly difficult to do. Most authors are not able to do this. What I’m saying may not be making sense here.
So I may know someone like, say, Sandy, in real life, and I know how much depth she has. But what matters is what’s on the page – what the author has woven. What the author shows and tells the audience.
I think it’s absolutely valid for someone to point out to an author that a particular character seems one sided or it doesn’t make sense that they do X (some action) like in Kundera’s “The Unbearable Lightness of Being”, returning to Prague.
And people can disagree about character motivations – whether or not they are realistic. In keeping with the “Unbearable Lightness” example, I thought it was perfectly reasonable that the main characters returned to Prague in that novel, my husband disagreed.
aerin — exactly, that’s what I mean.
Also, I’d like to explain my comment about Jack Weyland, since Jonathan had a question about it.
Jack Weyland often includes sub-plots that are little romances between minor characters. These sideline romances often had a cutesy gimmick to them, like the “he’s so clueless about romance that she has to tell him what to do” theme in the Chad/Janice romance of No Going Back.
Now, I don’t think I’m going out on a limb to say that Weyland is a bit of a sexist, and he’s totally down with the patriarchy. However, although his portrayal of girls/women has its own problems, at least it’s clear that he cares about his female characters and he’s interested in their feelings and desires.
Also, when the similarity with Weyland’s work hit me (while reading No Going Back), that’s when the other contrast really jumped out. As I explained in my thoughts on Jack Weyland, one positive aspect of Weyland’s work is the way he sees teen romance and dating as a fun adventure! His portrait of teen romance (even in minor little sub-plots) has a sincerely joyful quality that is absent in the dutiful courtship motions of Chad and Janice.
Go back and read some Weyland, then read this novel, and you’ll see what I mean.
I dont think Langfords male-male relationships are specifically homoerotic (as in having an underlying romantic interest).
What I said is the converse: If a male character forms deep emotional bonds with men and not with women (his wife, for example), then I start to question whether hes really straight.
It came to me while I was washing dishes: the word for what chanson is talking about is “homosocial.”
the glbtq definition of it is here
http://www.glbtq.com/glossary.php?id=13
Okay, I was about to write a comment, but now I’m too blown away to speak. Chanson, did you just actually suggest that I go read a Jack Weyland novel? I never thought I would hear someone I respect say those words.
Deep breath.
Okay, I’m ready for my comment now.
I dont think it ought to be controversial to point out that the author is a little weak on portraying characters that are far from his own personal experience. Unless you (or Jonathan) think theres some shame in this character being gay.
Oh no, you caught me! Chanson, I was offended by your insinuation that Bishop Rick is gay because by doing so you have soiled that most holy creature that we must all strive to be like–The Straight Man. How dare you? 😉
In all seriousness, I don’t think your claim is “controversial”; I just don’t think it’s based solidly in the text or, for that matter, in reality. The man-is-too-busy-with-work-and-church-to-pay-attention-to-wife-and-family story is a standard Mormon trope. It’s often a topic of conference talks, and if I recall correctly there’s a standard church video with basically the same plot. This suggests to me that it’s a situation far too common to be attributed solely or even primarily to gay men in MOMs. As for the relative ease with which Richard forms emotional bonds with other guys, this is far from unique to gay men. In the Sunstone article that Holly refers to above, she talks about a point in her life when she began to wonder if all men were, if not homosexual, then homosocial, because they seemed to be more interested in doing things with each other than in forming meaningful relationships with women. A very common complaint among married women is that their husbands spend too much time with their guy friends. Nor is the tendency toward homosociality unique to men–women tend to form strong emotional bonds with other women more easily than with men. The fact Richard and Sandy reflect this societal norm says nothing about the character’s sexual orientation, much less the author’s.
I know you don’t use the word misogyny lightly, Chanson, but I don’t think it’s warranted in this case. For that matter, I don’t think it’s a very useful word. As with the terms racist and homophobe, anyone who is truly a misogynist won’t care that you’ve called him one. After all, you’re a woman–what does your opinion of him matter? For those of us who genuinely care about women and their concerns, though, being called a misogynist only serves to offend us and shut down the conversation. The only real purpose words like misogynist, racist, or homophobe serve is to make the rest of us feel better about ourselves by placing those other people squarely in a category that’s separate from us. You are the other, the misogynist, and I am the enlightened intellectual who has the authority to define you and your beliefs.
You and Mr. FOB (Ben) think you did a reasonable job of portraying straight women, straight men, and their romantic relationships.
To clarify, I think that Jonathan did a great job of portraying straight women and straight men–and gays of both flavors, as well. As I said in my review, I feel like a strength of the book is the well-developed cast of characters. I don’t think he did a great job of portraying romantic relationships between straight people–I have no strong objections to the one he portrayed or the others he alluded to, as I think they came across as real whether or not they’re the kinds of relationships I would want to have–but other than Richard and Sandy’s relationship, which was a side plot and not a central focus, straight relationships simply are not a big part of this book. And I have no problem with that. Some books are about straight relationships, some are about same-sex friendships, some are about planet-eating dogs from outer space. A single book can’t encompass all possible stories, all possible aspects of life, and I don’t think it’s reasonable to fault a book for the aspects it chooses not to focus on.
I don’t read this book as a defense of straight marriage or of heterosexuality. It’s not a thesis statement, it’s a novel. It’s a story, and it’s well told. In my opinion, one of the strengths of the book is that it’s not trying to be propaganda either way. I recently watched a movie that was very pro-gay and the didacticism annoyed me, despite the fact that I completely agree with its message. I don’t want fiction to teach me a lesson, I want it to show me the world in an interesting and honest way, and let me make my own conclusions. Jonathan’s novel portrays the gay Mormon experience in such a way that faithful readers can read it and have their faith affirmed, while I can read it and see very clearly that the main character’s suffering is enabled by the “hypocrisy, misogyny, rigid gender roles and defenses of patriarchy” of his faith. This, to me, says that it’s good fiction.
These are some of the best comments I have seen in a while!
I actually hesitated before typing that since the question of “What’s wrong with Jack Weyland?” is another can of worms. Still I think the comparison is very apt in this case, in terms of highlighting what I’m talking about in terms of the portrayal of straight male emotion.
Sure, straight men can have the problem of being too busy, etc., but the emotional black hole in this relationship is deeper than that. That’s lovely if you (another gay male in a mixed-orientation marriage) think Langford did a great job of portraying straight women, straight men, and straight-straight marriage. However, I stand by my opinion that he needs to work on his empathy for people who are different from himself if he is serious about portraying them.
In the Sunstone article that Holly refers to above, she talks about a point in her life when she began to wonder if all men were, if not homosexual, then homosocial, because they seemed to be more interested in doing things with each other than in forming meaningful relationships with women.
No. That is absolutely NOT what I said. I wrote that I
that sentence was followed by a footnote–the editor wouldn’t let me leave in the main body of the text–that read
Back in the main text, the paragraph that followed read
I am so upset and astonished I’m trembling. A detailed and graphic discussion of profound contempt for women expressed through sexual violence is remembered as acknowledgment that “[men] seemed to be more interested in doing things with each other than in forming meaningful relationships with women”?
Thanks. Wow. Thanks for demonstrating that nothing women say about what it means to be a woman really registers.
As with the terms racist and homophobe, anyone who is truly a misogynist wont care that youve called him one
bullshit.
As evidence, I refer you to the link I provide above to a discussion on my blog, in which someone IS upset to be called a homophobe, though he eventually cops to the fact that he is.
The only real purpose words like misogynist, racist, or homophobe serve is to make the rest of us feel better about ourselves by placing those other people squarely in a category thats separate from us.
Again, bullshit. A very good reason to use those terms is to underscore that racist, misogynist and homophobic behavior is recognized for what it is.
Sending out a Christmas card with the front lawn of the White House turned into a watermelon, because a black man is moving in? That’s racist, and to say that “The only real purpose” labeling it as such has it to “to make the rest of us feel better about ourselves by placing [the one who sent it out] squarely in a category thats separate from us,” is, as I said, BULLSHIT. You call it racist because people need to see it for what it is: an attitude based on race that harms both the people who hold it and the people it’s held about.
ahem. That should be “Sending out a Christmas card with the front lawn of the White House turned into a watermelon patch.”
Something else I should point out: at the point when I “was convinced in my heart that all men are gay, or at the very least homosocial,” I was still an active Mormon, and most of my relationships with men were with MORMON men. My opinion of men and my faith in their ability to form meaningful relationships with women improved dramatically when I left the church.
All of which is to say that Langford and his novel might be clueless about and indifferent to the lives of women in all the ways most men in the church are, rather than being exceptional and therefore exceptionally bad. Doesn’t mean his book is, simply by virtue of the fact that it replicates this shitty, MISOGYNIST situation, a good novel, or that women readers aren’t completely right in 1) being upset about it, and 2) suggesting that both Mormon men and Mormon writers ought to do something about changing the situation, in life and in literature.
Holly, I’m sorry that I didn’t remember all the details of your footnote–I assure you that there are many, many women for whom I care deeply and whose thoughts about what it means to be a woman matter very much to me. In our history, you’ve done very little to make yourself one of those people, but I still do try to understand and respect your point of view simply because you’re a human being and I believe every human being deserves to be understood and respected. Obviously, I fail sometimes, particularly when I’m paraphrasing from an article I read two years ago.
As for what you actually said, I think it makes my point even better than my inaccurate paraphrase did–you observed that straight men seem to have contempt for women, to the point of committing physical violence. This hardly jibes with Chanson’s theory that a man who lacks the ability to emotionally connect with his wife must therefore be gay (or at least an inaccurate representation of a straight man).
Ben, if you’re serious about establishing an accurate, respectable, defensible position, it’s standard practice to check a reference before you cite it, or, if you can’t do that, at least admit that you’re working from memory and might get things really, really wrong.
you observed that straight men seem to have contempt for women, to the point of committing physical violence.
I observe that in many ways, MEN demonstrate contempt for women. In the case of straight men who feel that contempt, it’s sometimes expressed through sexual violence. Contempt can be expressed through other ways–such as simply feeling that male lives are more important than female lives, which happens very often in the Mormon church.
While it’s by no means a hard and fast rule that “a man who lacks the ability to emotionally connect with his wife must therefore be gay,” I don’t think it’s an unreasonable inference in certain situations. As many people can (unfortunately) attest, being forced or expected to engage in sexual intimacy with a person for whom you feel little desire can cause resentment, anger and emotional isolation. What I’ve read of Bishop Rick’s marriage reminds me somewhat of something described in this blog entry about a mixed orientation marriage
http://beckgaymormon.blogspot.com/2007/12/cycle.html
which is no longer available to people who aren’t invited to read this blog, but which I kept a copy of. The biggest difference is that this guy at least CARES that he can’t bond with his wife in the ways she needs:
This to me is AN EVIL. Beck, the guy who wrote the entry, might not be an evil man. But the whole situation is WRONG, destructive, and the result of a society which is, in and of itself, contemptuous of women and misogynist.
And there are obviously things he doesn’t understand about being in love, due to the fact that he’s never been in a relationship with someone he’s in love with. Some of the questions he poses amaze me, and I think, “If you’d ever really been in love yourself, YOU WOULD GET WHAT THIS FEELS LIKE.”
And I would also call attention to this entry http://mainstreetplaza.com/?p=806
from Hellmut, in which he observes that
Since doubt is taboo, social relations between corridor Mormons are rarely intimate. People are friendly but do not become friends. They meet at LDS activities but do not invite each other to their homes. We read the scriptures but would rather cite Seven Habits. We become missionaries but are uncomfortable meeting strangers. Though some Mormons can, Mormon society cannot tolerate a difference of opinion over religion. Mormonism cannot bear the threat to the illusion of knowledge.
all of which is to say, that the intense emotional relationships people point to in the novel among men and only men seem to be fantasy, rather than reality, because Mormons rarely achieve much emotional intimacy–at least compared to the rest of the world.
The gendered aspect is troubling because women are not allowed into this fantasy, and Langford sees nothing wrong with this.
The real wonder is not that so many marriages in Mormondom suck, but that anyone manages to have a good one. And yet some people do, thanks be to god.
Women who end up stuck with less, however, are right to want more.
Women are also right to point out ways in which the Mormon society expects them to live impoverished lives–particularly if doing so somehow supports the patriarchy and the priesthood.
Holly – I want to better understand what you are saying here in #35. Are you saying that people in a marriage can grow and change AND have different understandings of love? How fully they (each individual) is able to give to the marriage/relationship?
I’m saying this without noting the gender of anyone involved in a marriage – because I do think that change within any marriage/union is possible. And that one person may have different feelings for a partner in a marriage or relationship over time. And sometimes that does lead to divorce, where one or both people in the marriage realize that things have changed, their feelings have changed or that they no longer want to try and make it work. Other couples/people may use that point to figure out who they are and what they want – and attempt to work on the relationship.
I don’t think marriage or love is always the same – or that all couples experience it the same way.
What it sounds to me like you are saying is that in a specific situation where a man knows he is gay but still marries a woman (because of his religious beliefs) – that it is not being fair to either partner but especially the woman in that relationship? That it discounts the feelings of the woman in that relationship? That such a relationship is inherently misognist?
I would argue that it discounts both partners’ feelings, and may make them both miserable.
I think relationships and marriages are complicated, and that people change.
But I do think it’s disenguous for a religion to tell a gay man that he has to marry a woman for exalation, or a gay woman that she needs to marry a man.
I disagree strongly with LDS leadership on that message and belief – specifically that one’s se_xual orientation is something that can be changed. Or that marriage is required for exalation.
I do agree with your last sentences in the last paragraph – about women being allowed to want more – and supporting women in pointing out how the LDS system can impoverish them/discriminate against them.
Hi aerin–
Are you saying that people in a marriage can grow and change AND have different understandings of love?
That wasn’t the point of my comment, but it’s certainly not a statement I disagree with.
My point was more along the lines of what you discuss in the second half of your comment–that MOM’s (mixed orientation marriages), particularly in Mormon culture, at least when the spouse with the non-complimentary orientation is a gay man, are rooted in misogyny and a sense of male entitlement.
Keep in mind that in most of the gay-man/straight women MOMs, it is the gay man who courts and proposes to the straight woman, who often doesn’t find out until AFTER the ceremony that she didn’t get what she thought (or at least hoped) she was getting, namely, a husband with whom she could establish a rewarding sex life–in other words, I’m saying she’s been deceived, typically by a guy who thinks that it’s his right to deceive hr, because what really matters is that he uphold his own priesthood, not that he treat a woman honorably or well. I include the post from Beck as proof that, because these gay men are typically very young, inexperienced virgins when they get married and thus have never been in a romantic and/or sexual relationship with someone they’re in love with, they have NO CLUE the extent of the cruelty they’re inflicting on their wives.
To quote another passage from my Sunstone essay:
I am saying that one reason I chose not to read Langford’s novel is that it seems, based on everything I have read and heard about it, including chanson’s review here and even Langford’s own statements about it, to be one more example of misogynist, patriarchal bullshit, full of men who benefit from patriarchy while ignoring the ways in which they victimize women. And I don’t have the time to entertain that shit any more, though I’m willing to devote my time to pointing out what’s wrong with it.
I’m saying that we women shouldn’t just be irritated and impatient with situations like this, we should be MAD AS HELL, in the immortal words of Howard Beale and we should serve notice that WE’RE NOT GONNA TAKE IT ANYMORE, for ourselves or our sisters. We’re going to call misogyny misogyny, no matter how much people try to convince us that doing so is useless, or wrong, or simply beside the point.
PS. I swear I put my comment through spell check and changed the spelling before posting, and then after I posted it changed the spelling of words like “exaltation”. My apologies.
Exactly. I think it’s a pretty big leap to claim that “my theory” is that straight men can’t be misogynist and/or that they can’t use sexuality as an expression of contempt. I do think, however, that misogyny in straight males vs. gay males has a somewhat different motivational component (as seen in the quote), hence manifests itself slightly differently.
Holly’s quote from Beck very definitely expresses the introspective version of the situation described in Langston’s novel. And her post linked above about movies about men nails it even closer. The wife in this novel is portrayed as the obstacle to overcome so that Bishop Rick can devote his time and energy to things that are really important to him. In this case, he can’t just cast her aside, but rather he’s duty-bound to placate her. So, being her surrogate parent, he discusses the situation with her other parent to discover how to solve the problem.
The thing is that Bishop Rick resents his wife and sees time spent with her as an unpleasant duty. Sure he wants to make an effort to placate her — he’s duty-bound to do so — but there’s no hint that he’s motivated by love for her or concern for her happiness. She can’t solve their problems herself because she’s portrayed as an adolescent who can do little more than throw childish tantrums. But even if she weren’t, she wouldn’t be able to solve their problem herself because the problem is that he doesn’t give a sh-t about her, and doesn’t view her as a full-fledged person. It’s not that he’s “too busy” to spend time with her (perhaps he is), but the problem is that (regardless of his time constraints) he doesn’t want to spend time with her, which is something she can do very little about.
I’m not going out on a limb when I say that Langston’s portrait of marriage is informed by his own impressions about marriage which are informed by his personal experiences. Even the best writers’ work is informed by their experiences and worldview.
Now, I’m not going to say that it would be impossible for a similar problem to exist in a straight marriage. Rather, it’s just that I’ve read far too many manuscripts and indie-published first novels, and time and again the author’s need to validate his/her perspective is right there sticking out like a sore thumb. In this case, Langford doesn’t want to believe that his particular marital challenges are the fault of his homosexuality, but rather wants to believe that this total emotional disconnect is a typical challenge for a straight couple as well. So he writes some fictional evidence to back it up. He wants to believe that his fellow patriarchs (including the straight ones) typically meet their emotional needs by bonding with other men and see their wives as inconvenient obligations (at best), so he writes that fantasy down and calls it a realistic portrait of straight people.
His portraits of women — a childish obstacle, plus some vacuous help-meets fluttering around the light of the male in their lives — aren’t merely a question of flat stereotyping. It’s an incredibly dehumanizing portrait, and one which LDS women in particular are constantly made to swallow. While reading the book, I thought that that aspect was smacking-you-in-the-face obvious. But maybe it seems “realistic” or fair because so many other patriarchs have portrayed women the same way. Now I’m starting to think that maybe you have to have been on the receiving end of dehumanization in order to see it.
This, is sort off topic, has nothing to do with the book. Without going into flinging stereotypes I have this antidote about why I prefer to hang out with men.
I was two months into my first stint as a stay at home parent when I signed up with a local moms group that did some intense hikes with their young children. After attending a few hikes I found that for most of the moms the conversation centered around television shows and strollers.
This was odd for me because most of the women I had known up to this point (especially my DW) Were more like Chanson and Holly.
I found a dads group, what a relief, our conversations made more sense to me, topics were actually important…. You know politics, sexism, music and beer. In my experience the men I know would rather be around their spouses, and not hanging around with their “buddies.” I do have a theory about guys who seem to prefer the company of men over their wives; they are afraid of losing a certain status with their male friends, co-workers etc where the competition may be intense. They just don’t want to worry about the missus.
As for Mormons being misogynistic, the only evidence I need is the whole “put your wife on a pedestal” bit.
As for Mormons being misogynistic, the only evidence I need is the whole put your wife on a pedestal bit.
good point. there’s no need to tell men to put their wives on a pedestal if they respect them to begin with.
FWIW, I haven’t said that straight men never enjoy bonding with other men, or that they never think “I’d rather be having a beer with the guys than staying home picking out curtains with the missus.” Please review my comment #39 before reading any further implications or corollaries into my supposed “theory”.
Very true, and that’s one of the reasons I quoted that part of the scene with Bishop Rick and his FiL.
btw, I think that paragraph sums up the entire discussion about as well as anything, though I would add that “in real life, there are men who are still content to treat their wives, sisters, daughters and mothers as childish obstacles, and to see their wives, sister, daughters and mothers treated as such by other men.”
I admit that as I think about your comments about the book, chanson, one of the things that really rankles me is the way in which, far as I can tell, Sandy is infantilized and condescended to by both her husband AND her father, acting as a team, and that the men BOND over this–not just over football, or how great it is to wear striped power ties, but over how difficult it is to deal with this silly, childish woman. I know my father would never collaborate in such dreadful treatment for any of his daughters, and I hope that none of the Mormon men I have had friendships with through the years would be so supportive of a son-in-law who treated their daughters like shit.
That scene is easily the most jaw-dropping thing in the whole novel, which is why I quoted it rather than attempting to describe it.
*grabs popcorn*
*stays far away from commenting*
If I ever get to writing my book, I’ll make sure to consult Holly and chanson about inadequate/unrealistic relationship dynamics.
Andrew — lol, good plan! 😉
But seriously, I really do read people’s manuscripts for free and give feedback and (if appropriate) post a review. Normally I don’t bite. 😉
chanson’s comments on a (still unpublished) manuscript of mine were among the most useful I received.
I ask people who read my work to “be cruel to be kind,” and I do the same. Painful as it is to get comments telling you that your characters are jerks, the action unbelievable, the prose overwrought, the viewpoint character too immature, or whatever, it’s better to hear that stuff when the ms. is not yet published and you can fix it all, than after it’s in print, and you just have to suck up the trashings you get and live with them.
I have some further thoughts about this (the book and review) – I did receive this press release, and wanted to post it here. I thought it was important, given our subject matter and the subsequent discussions. Hopefully my quote tags will come out okay.
>> A Coming-of-Age Story About What It Means
>> to Be Teenage, Mormonand Gay
>>
>> Zarahemla Books publishes a groundbreaking novel that focuses on the
>> tension between faith and feelings for a gay Mormon teenager, his
>> best friend, and their circle of friends and family members.
>> A gay teenage Mormon growing up in western Oregon in 2003. His
>> straight best friend. Their parents. A typical LDS ward, a high
>> schoolclub about tolerance for gays, and a proposed anti-gay-marriage
>> amendment to the state constitution. In NO GOING BACK, these elements
>> combine in a coming-of-age story about faithfulness and friendship,
>> temptation and redemption, tough choices and conflicting loyalties.
>>
>> Jonathan Langfords NO GOING BACKis a heartfelt, heart- breaking, and
>> ultimately enriching tale of what it means to be a fifteen-year-old
>> Mormon boy who truly wants only to do what is right but is faced with
>> the terrifying fact that he is gay, according to Gerald Argetsing
>> er, associate professor of performing arts at the Rochester Institute of
>> Technology and former artistic director of the LDS Churchs Hill
>> Cumorah Pageant.
>>
>> Abiding by Mormonisms high standards challenges all its faithful
>> adherents, writes Thomas F. Rogers, Mormon playwright and BYU
>> professor of Russian emeritus. Coping with ones besieged
>> status as a young gay is no less difficult. What if you are both at the same
>> time? Like no other work I know, Langfords frank and poignant novel brings this real-life impasse into bold relief.
>>
>> Telling a Human Story
>>
>> I wanted to write a story that reflected the dilemma of someone whose
>> emotions pull him in one direction, but whose religious commitment
>> pulls in a different direction, explains Langford. Its a novel
>> about being Mormon and same-sex attracted, but also about the
>> universal adolescentand humanexperience of coming to know oneself
>> and choosing ones loyalties.
>>
>> The result is a complex novel written in a deceptively simple style,
>> extending over a year and a half with multiple characters, plot
>> lines,and points of viewreflecting the experiences of the teenage
>> protagonist and his best friend, but also of their parents, one of
>> whom is also the boys bishop.
>>
>> For most readers, this approach succeeds. These teenagers act like
>> teenagers, even though they are basically good kids, claims William Morris, founder of the Mormon arts and culture blog A Motley Vision.
>> Any discussion of same-sex attraction makes a lot of Mormons
>> uncomfortable. But the novel is thoroughly orthodox. Its characters
>> are orthodox Mormons. Its tensions and ultimate solutions and
>> resolutions are firmly rooted in active LDS lifeprayer, scripture
>> study, repentance, the priesthood, love, charity, hope, the family.
>>
>> Ty Mansfield, coauthor of In Quiet Desperation: Understanding the
>> Challenge of Same-Sex Attraction (Deseret Book, 2004), praises the
>> novel in similar terms. Parents, friends, priesthood leaders, and
>> peers are all a critical part of how we negotiate our sense of self-
>> identity and life choices, and this story is masterful in how it
>> brings to life all the tensions associated with that process. I found
>> myself forgetting this was fiction and wanting to contact the main
>> character to assure him hes not alone.
>>
>> Contributing to the Conversation
>>
>> While reactions to NO GOING BACK have been largely positive so far,
>> Langford and Zarahemla Books are both bracing themselves for
>> inevitable controversy. This is an area where passions run high,Langford acknowledges. This story isnt one that will please
>> partisans on any side of the issue.
>>
>> Langfords nuanced, even-handed, yet honest approach is a big part
>> of the appeal for many readers. Its high time we came to terms with same-sex issues, the more so where we are most reluctant to do so,
>> insists BYU English professor Steven C. Walker. I welcome both this broaching of the issue from a Latter-day Saint perspective and its
>> frankly positive dealing with an issue this touchy.
>>
>> Langford has touched very sensitively, compassionately, and
>> thoughtfully on a very important topic about which Mormons are almost
>> completely silent, writes Clark Draney, associate professor of
>> English at the College of Southern Idaho. I see this book as an
>> essential step in opening a viable dialogue about a struggle that is
>> very real for many members of the church. In truth, I believe this
>> book will save someones life.
>>
>> About the Author
>>
>> A long-time reader and critic in the Mormon literary community,
>> Jonathan Langford moderated AML-List, an e-mail discussion group
>> sponsored by the Association for Mormon Letters. This is his first
>> published novel. He is married with three children and currently
>> serves as membership clerk in his LDS ward.