Synopses & Reviews
Synopsis
Gay bars are closing at an alarming rate--a writer looks back to find out what's being lost.
Jeremy Atherton Lin can't remember his first gay bar. When he tries, it unexpectedly sets him off on a time-travelling, transatlantic investigation into the fraught histories of the beloved and reviled institution. From the clone-filled discos of Hollywood in the 1970s to a warren of cruising tunnels built beneath London in the 1770s, from the chichi bars in the aftermath of AIDS to today's fluid queer spaces, Gay Bar takes us on a journey through generations of gay men in the places they created and claimed.
In prose as exuberant as a hit of poppers and as dazzling as a disco ball, Jeremy conjures the strobing lights and the throbbing music, the scent of tangled male bodies, the rough and tender encounters, the costumes and the categories--twink, daddy, basic gay, club kid, bear, muscle mary--all the while tracking the protean aesthetics of masculinity and gayness. He invites us to go beyond the simplified gay bar liberation mythology of Stonewall and enter the many other battlefields in the struggle to carve out a territory. Elegiac, sexy, and sparkling with wry wit, Gay Bar is at once a serious critical inquiry, a love story, and an epic night out to remember.
Synopsis
Jeremy Atherton Lin can't remember his first gay bar. When he tries, it unexpectedly sets him off on a time-travelling, transatlantic investigation into the fraught histories of the beloved and reviled institution. From the clone-filled discos of Hollywood in the 1970s to a warren of cruising tunnels built beneath London in the 1770s, from the chichi bars in the aftermath of AIDS to today's fluid queer spaces, Gay Bar takes us on a journey through generations of gay men in the places they created and claimed.
In prose as exuberant as a hit of poppers and as dazzling as a disco ball, Jeremy conjures the strobing lights and the throbbing music, the scent of tangled male bodies, the rough and tender encounters, the costumes and the categories--twink, daddy, basic gay, club kid, bear, muscle mary--all the while tracking the protean aesthetics of masculinity and gayness. He invites us to go beyond the simplified gay bar liberation mythology of Stonewall and enter the many other battlefields in the struggle to carve out a territory. Elegiac, sexy, and sparkling with wry wit, Gay Bar is at once a serious critical inquiry, a love story, and an epic night out to remember.
Synopsis
Gay bars are closing. Is this the end of gay as we know it? A writer looks back at what's being lost.
Strobing lights and dark rooms; throbbing house and drag queens on counters; first kisses, last calls; the gay bar has long been a place of solidarity and sexual expression--whatever your scene, whoever you're seeking. But in urban centers around the world, they are closing, a cultural demolition that has Jeremy Atherton Lin wondering: What was the gay bar? How have they shaped him? And could this spell the end of gay identity as we know it?
In Gay Bar, Jeremy embarks upon a transatlantic tour of the hangouts that marked his life, with each club, pub and dive revealing itself to be a palimpsest of queer history. In prose as exuberant as a hit of poppers and as dazzling as a disco ball, he time-travels from Hollywood nights in the 1970s to a warren of cruising tunnels built beneath London in the 1770s; from chichi bars in the aftermath of AIDS to today's fluid queer spaces; through glory holes, into Crisco-slicked dungeons and down San Francisco alleys. He charts police raids and riots, posing and passing out--and a chance encounter one restless night that would change his life forever.
The journey that emerges is a stylish and nuanced inquiry into the connection between place and identity--a tale of liberation, but one that invites us to go beyond the simplified Stonewall mythology and enter other, lesser-known battlefields in the struggle to carve out a territory. Elegiac, randy and sparkling with wry wit, Gay Bar is at once a serious critical inquiry, a love story and an epic night out to remember.
Synopsis
Does gay still have a place?
Strobing lights and dark rooms; throbbing house and drag queens on counters; first kisses, last call: the gay bar has long been a place of solidarity and sexual expression--whatever your scene, whoever you're seeking. But in urban centers around the world, they are closing, a cultural demolition that has Jeremy Atherton Lin wondering: What was the gay bar? How have they shaped him? And could this spell the end of gay identity as we know it?
In Gay Bar, the author embarks upon a transatlantic tour of the hangouts that marked his life, with each club, pub, and dive revealing itself to be a palimpsest of queer history. In prose as exuberant as a hit of poppers and dazzling as a disco ball, he time-travels from Hollywood nights in the 1970s to a warren of cruising tunnels built beneath London in the 1770s; from chichi bars in the aftermath of AIDS to today's fluid queer spaces; through glory holes, into Crisco-slicked dungeons and down San Francisco alleys. He charts police raids and riots, posing and passing out--and a chance encounter one restless night that would change his life forever.
The journey that emerges is a stylish and nuanced inquiry into the connection between place and identity--a tale of liberation, but one that invites us to go beyond the simplified Stonewall mythology and enter lesser-known battlefields in the struggle to carve out a territory. Elegiac, randy, and sparkling with wry wit, Gay Bar is at once a serious critical inquiry, a love story and an epic night out to remember.
Synopsis
Does gay still have a place?
"An absolute tour de force." ―Maggie Nelson
Strobing lights and dark rooms; throbbing house and drag queens on counters; first kisses, last call: the gay bar has long been a place of solidarity and sexual expression--whatever your scene, whoever you're seeking. But in urban centers around the world, they are closing, a cultural demolition that has Jeremy Atherton Lin wondering: What was the gay bar? How have they shaped him? And could this spell the end of gay identity as we know it?
In Gay Bar, the author embarks upon a transatlantic tour of the hangouts that marked his life, with each club, pub, and dive revealing itself to be a palimpsest of queer history. In prose as exuberant as a hit of poppers and dazzling as a disco ball, he time-travels from Hollywood nights in the 1970s to a warren of cruising tunnels built beneath London in the 1770s; from chichi bars in the aftermath of AIDS to today's fluid queer spaces; through glory holes, into Crisco-slicked dungeons and down San Francisco alleys. He charts police raids and riots, posing and passing out--and a chance encounter one restless night that would change his life forever.
The journey that emerges is a stylish and nuanced inquiry into the connection between place and identity--a tale of liberation, but one that invites us to go beyond the simplified Stonewall mythology and enter lesser-known battlefields in the struggle to carve out a territory. Elegiac, randy, and sparkling with wry wit, Gay Bar is at once a serious critical inquiry, a love story and an epic night out to remember.
Synopsis
An indispensable, intimate, and stylish celebration of the institution of the gay bar, from 1990s post-AIDS crisis to today's fluid queer spaces "I can't remember the last time I've been so happily surprised and enchanted by a book. Gay Bar is an absolute tour de force."
-- Maggie Nelson
Strobing lights and dark rooms; throbbing house and drag queens on counters; first kisses, last call: the gay bar has long been a place of solidarity and sexual expression--whatever your scene, whoever you're seeking. But in urban centers around the world, they are closing, a cultural demolition that has Jeremy Atherton Lin wondering: What was the gay bar? How have they shaped him? And could this spell the end of gay identity as we know it?
In Gay Bar, the author embarks upon a transatlantic tour of the hangouts that marked his life, with each club, pub, and dive revealing itself to be a palimpsest of queer history. In prose as exuberant as a hit of poppers and dazzling as a disco ball, he time-travels from Hollywood nights in the 1970s to a warren of cruising tunnels built beneath London in the 1770s; from chichi bars in the aftermath of AIDS to today's fluid queer spaces; through glory holes, into Crisco-slicked dungeons and down San Francisco alleys. He charts police raids and riots, posing and passing out--and a chance encounter one restless night that would change his life forever.
The journey that emerges is a stylish and nuanced inquiry into the connection between place and identity--a tale of liberation, but one that invites us to go beyond the simplified Stonewall mythology and enter lesser-known battlefields in the struggle to carve out a territory. Elegiac, randy, and sparkling with wry wit, Gay Bar is at once a serious critical inquiry, a love story and an epic night out to remember.
Synopsis
An indispensable, intimate, and stylish celebration. "Gay Bar is an absolute tour de force." (Maggie Nelson) "Beautiful...Atherton Lin has a five-octave, Mariah Carey-esque range for discussing gay sex." -New York Times Book Review
Strobing lights and dark rooms; throbbing house and drag queens on counters; first kisses, last call: the gay bar has long been a place of solidarity and sexual expression--whatever your scene, whoever you're seeking. But in urban centers around the world, they are closing, a cultural demolition that has Jeremy Atherton Lin wondering: What was the gay bar? How have they shaped him? And could this spell the end of gay identity as we know it?
In Gay Bar, the author embarks upon a transatlantic tour of the hangouts that marked his life, with each club, pub, and dive revealing itself to be a palimpsest of queer history. In prose as exuberant as a hit of poppers and dazzling as a disco ball, he time-travels from Hollywood nights in the 1970s to a warren of cruising tunnels built beneath London in the 1770s; from chichi bars in the aftermath of AIDS to today's fluid queer spaces; through glory holes, into Crisco-slicked dungeons and down San Francisco alleys. He charts police raids and riots, posing and passing out--and a chance encounter one restless night that would change his life forever.
The journey that emerges is a stylish and nuanced inquiry into the connection between place and identity--a tale of liberation, but one that invites us to go beyond the simplified Stonewall mythology and enter lesser-known battlefields in the struggle to carve out a territory. Elegiac, randy, and sparkling with wry wit, Gay Bar is at once a serious critical inquiry, a love story and an epic night out to remember.