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Tuesday, January 24, 2017

Work/LGBT: What I've Learned From My New Tax Preparation Job

I went back to work today, and found out that when bosses tell you what you'll be doing tomorrow or next week, they might be wrong. Through no fault of their own, in fact, they might be full of crap.
I was confused, last week, when my boss said that she wanted me to start answering phones and greeting people, because I had already done that a little. Then I was further confused when I arrived at work, and the designated receptionist was there. Peak tax season is slow to hit this year, and I don't have my license back from the state yet, so I have little else to do than check other people's work, and there's not much of that, either. The hours tick by so slowly sometimes.

The dedicated receptionist is an old woman who has said that she hopes her grandchildren don't have kids, because they're not as conservative as she is, and that she wishes that they lived in another state so that she didn't know so much about them and their lives. I was horrified when I heard both of those things, but I had to be polite, of course.
I had mentioned being homoschooled to her once, when she asked where I had gone to school. Later, when the subject came up again, she asked if I was religious, being homoschooled. (I've changed the spelling to "homoschooled" on purpose, because the new spelling and pronunciation doesn't have the bad memories associated with religion.) I didn't know what to say, so I just nodded a little.
If it comes up and I do eventually come out at work, my story is that I am a gay Christian. People don't let you talk about morality or what Jesus/the bible really meant, unless you say you're a Christian. (Though work is hardly the place for that, although talking about conservative Christianity is not appropriate, either.)
She is already self-righteous, and I have a feeling she would be very homophobic. If she goes on a rant about that, I plan to smile and say demurely, "Actually, I have a lot of gay friends," then try quietly to leave the room. I don't know if I'm confident enough to do anything more right now.

She used the word "Negro" today, totally un-self-conscious about it. "That man who came in--yes, that's the one, he's Negro." Apparently the civil rights movement never happened in her world? I thought even the elderly didn't use that word, unless they were mocking black people. I can't even say that word with a straight face; I thought it had been established that people with dark skin, in America, do not generally like that word applied to them. (It's too close to a much worse word, I had read.)
I personally felt so very relieved, though. She's an idiot! It doesn't matter if she's homophobic, because she's an idiot!
That was what went through my mind today, hearing that out of her mouth. It was such a relief! Her opinions didn't hurt as much. And I wished I could feel that way about everyone.
One of my favorite new shows is The Real O'Neils, presently on Hulu. In an early episode, the young gay main character is told by his grandmother, "God says you are broken, and you need fixing." He says that he didn't know that anything his grandmother said could hurt him, before that moment. It's a dark moment in an otherwise light and funny show.
Whether you think they can or not, homophobes might hurt. My mom says that people can only make you feel a certain way if part of you believes them--but I can't help how she let me be raised. But for this one, at least, I don't have a personal history with her, and I can try to remember how out-of-touch and idiotic she really is.
Her idiocy is my shield. May she not hurt LGBT people, or racial minorities!

Sunday, January 22, 2017

My New "First Career-Job" Challenges

I've been having dreams lately about trying to act like a grownup when I don't feel like one. Ever since I started my new job--the first job I've ever had that seemed like it could be a career, my first "grownup" job--I've been nervous about losing it somehow, or not acting professional enough. And I'm not sure what to do about that.
My mom tells me that I don't have to work there, that there are other tax offices in our area. But this one is what I know, so I want to stay if possible. And unfortunately, I don't really know what could be my boss's fault, and what could be mine, if something goes wrong.
But I just keep reminding myself that it doesn't matter if this job blows up in my face; I can get my bearings and start over, even if it is scary. It is not instantly effective, but I don't know what else to do.

I hear my older, conservative coworkers and boss praise Trump once or twice a day, and I keep my mouth shut. I don't think Trump is good for the country. But I'm probably not going to convince them, and I don't feel confident of my position in this job yet. I don't want to offend the people who try to help me, otherwise. Not yet. Maybe not even this year.
I am almost twenty-six, and all of my coworkers and boss are over fifty. They all have opposite-sex spouses. Someday I hope to have a same-sex spouse. They do not know this.
Liberty Tax has a company policy not to discriminate based on sexual orientation. And I live in Oregon, where such discrimination is prohibited anyway--for now. I still don't want to tell them. For now.

I look younger than I am. I wear sweaters, partly in imitation of my coworkers, and partly to keep warm. I took them from my mom, but I don't think they make me look older. I'm a cisgender female, and I have my long hair down, like my boss, and I assume that that is professional enough. I don't dare wear my preferred ponytail, for fear of looking fifteen.
I'm afraid no one wants a "kid" doing their tax returns. I suppose I'll be answering a lot of questions about how old I am, and trying not to get tired of it.

I don't have my tax license back from the state yet. It could take up to 4-6 weeks, and I'm three weeks into that. That is part of my worries about my job. "Peak" is slower to start this year, my boss says, so we're not usually busy, when I've been there. The office already has a receptionist.
4-6 weeks in which I may not be needed. Those are rather dismal prospects. What if my boss decides I need to simply be laid off for the whole season, or until I get my license? What if once I'm gone, she sees no reason to bring me back?

I'm also afraid I don't know how to be professional. Someone was supposed to show me how to answer the phones, but they didn't. There is a lot of pressure not to let the phone ring more than twice. So, while others were too busy, I answered it, imitating my coworkers.
The greeting they want us all to use is long and tedious. "Thank you for calling ______. This is _______. How may I help you?" When I call someone, I get ready to speak right away. If I heard this on the phone, I would get impatient.
 My boss mentioned the idea of me answering people's questions about the products we offer, but I only feel confident enough to transfer the call. I might get it wrong. And no one would want one person to answer some questions, and then be put on hold until someone else can answer the others.
 I am afraid my voice is too low, especially on the phone. I am afraid I don't sound chipper enough. I can't get up the energy to make it higher, when I'm nervously trying to make my words sound professional. The company's "Always be happy" rule makes me feel like I'm working at Disneyland. The manual especially makes it obvious they want us to buy into the company as an entity and present a certain image. In a way, we are all expected to be the happy Lady Liberty tax dancers they hire to dance on the sidewalks.

I have to learn life in a corporate office structure from scratch. "Policy and Procedure" is a meeting. The printer takes paper facing up, not down. Water goes in the back of the coffee maker, not the coffee pot. I'm lucky I haven't been embarrassed by my ignorance yet. I ask about tax laws, but those other things I found out on my own. I wonder if there's anything I just don't know about working in an office. Or in this office specifically.
I just do what I know to do, remind myself that there are other tax preparer jobs, and comfort myself that it only lasts for three more months, until next year. Next year, I hope, I'll feel more confident. And I always go home and distract myself with entertainment and cats. I know I won't always feel this way, but for now, it can be pretty scary sometimes.

Sunday, January 8, 2017

LGBT/Book Review: TWET--Asking For It And, Why Lesbians Are Considered Harmless

 The Wrong End of Time by John Brunner, page 35.
 
Good news! I have recently acquired two more books by John Brunner, Born Under Mars (1967), and The Stardroppers (1972). Now we can find out if his earlier books had the same homophobic/homoerotic fixations as The Wrong End of Time. I would also like to acquire The Atlantic Abomination, another earlier book, because knowing what I know of Mr. Brunner's literary obsessions, the use of that word is rather interesting...

But first, let's get back to the present book. Chapter IV introduces us to another character, Lora Turpin, the love interest for psychic Danty, who is also the daughter of Soviet agent Shecklov's handler in the states.

Lora Turpin had all she could take, and said so to her mother. Her mother, with her usual infuriating white satin calmness--out of a bottle with White Satin on the label--called her a misbegotton moron and suggested that radiation must have affected the ovum from which she was conceived. 

It's not often in this book that Brunner makes jokes, unless the joke is that people are gay, I guess? But the White Satin one I actually found amusing, and not sad that the author can't come out even to himself.
Lora has a big fight with her mother, about why she has to share a bedroom with her brother while the "Canadian" (who is actually the Soviet agent) is staying with them. She storms out and grabs "a hovercar going anywhere."

...and what was more she was forbidden to ride the hoverline, which was why she did it when she was in a bad temper.

I would have guessed that Lora was supposed to be about 15 or 16, but the novel states that she is 18. And I believe her brother is a few years older, the way he is written. She doesn't seem to have a job or go to school, and they have a housekeeper, so she doesn't keep the house. And in this overcrowded world, she still lives with her parents, and they apparently can forbid her from riding the hoverlines. (I wonder what would happen if they tried to punish her, or kick her out. They don't seem to care about doing either, though.) Her grandmother, her mother's mother, also lives with her, but no one of the older generations seems to care much about being involved with either Lora or her brother Peter, except for her grandmother's need to complain about everyone in the family, mostly to her son-in-law, whom she also complains about.
There is also something very disturbing about the way that Lora is written, in the very next paragraph from that quoted above. See if you can spot it:

This time it didn't lead to the anticipated result.  Naturally, because she was very pretty, several men leered at her, but they were all reeky ancients, at least forty, and the only hand that did try stroking her bare waist belonged to a fat mannish woman who got off at the second halt. 

So now we've got our first and only lesbian in this book! But more disturbing is the implication that Lora wanted to be touched by strangers on the hoverline, as long as they weren't "reeky ancients"--as long as they were young enough, and as long as they were men.
The book says she wanted to pick up a boy, since she "hadn't had a boy for over a week." It talks about her wearing a "play top," whatever that is, and her "crotch-zip shorts." (Does the author not know that almost ALL shorts and pants zip in the front, or the "crotch"? Is he trying to imply that they zip around the top of her inseam, so that she can more easily have sex or something? And wouldn't that be dangerous to put the zipper there, even for someone with no dangly bits?)
She had walked out of the house in what she happened to be wearing at the time, but she apparently still dressed in order to be sexually assaulted--in other words, she was "asking for it." It makes me wonder if John Brunner had assaulted anyone, or defended someone who did. It's very sickening.
At the very least, he accidentally implied that she not only wanted attention from young men, but that she wanted to be touched without explicit permission. But how can one accidentally imply that, with the way he phrased it? ("But the only hand that did try stroking her bare waist..." as if she wanted a hand to stroke her bare waist, without asking first!) She is meant to be immature (and of course grows up later because of her male love interest), yet the most pouty and attention-seeking teenager would probably not want to be touched without so much as a "hello."
John Brunner apparently understood feminists, and women in general, about as well as he understood homosexuals.

I also thought it interesting that, while male homosexuals (sometimes actually bisexuals) are portrayed as criminals who would kill you for your clothes (to sell them, apparently), or old perverted televangelists who touch themselves while watching young people make out, or young men who have sex with old perverted televangelists and are implied to have incestuous feelings for their own sisters...lesbians or female bisexuals are portrayed as ultimately harmless.
The "fat mannish woman" strokes Lora's waist, but Lora seems more upset about the "reeky ancients" who leer at her. She doesn't seem interested in the woman at all, but neither does she feel uncomfortable or afraid of her. Lora apparently doesn't even seem to respond, not even to move away. Does she just stand there and let the woman pet her like a cat? That's what it seems to be happening.
She doesn't mind a woman she's not interested in, sexually assaulting her. The woman also gets out of the car very soon, and doesn't even invite Lora to come with her.

Brunner, the author, doesn't mind lesbians, because they are no threat to him. They won't sexually assault him (male homosexuals probably wouldn't either, but he doesn't seem to know that), and most of all, they don't make him experience any scary feelings.
He can tell himself that he's just interested in them because they are two women together, not because they are homosexual like him and he likes the idea of someone like him finding love or sex. 
So he doesn't have to think of himself as homosexual, if he imagines two women together--even if they are interested in each other and not him. (I once met a lesbian woman online who loved to read about male/male romance, but would never want to be with a man, herself, in real life. And I am almost the same way, seeing myself as happier in general with another woman. So reading preference does not automatically translate to real life preferences.)
So he uses women--lesbians or people who are actually bisexual women--in order to hide from his own homosexual feelings. That's why gay women are so harmless, in his mind. And part of why they are so "hot" to so many "heterosexual" men even today.

Thursday, January 5, 2017

LGBT/Minimalism: Starting My New Student-Debt-Free Career, And Why I Won't Come Out At Work Yet

 First day of training today, as a tax preparer. I have talked about how I became licensed here, for the $250 I paid for the class. (Since I would be working for the company that put on the class, they paid for my test and licensing fees.) I can't actually prepare taxes until my paperwork comes in, but in most states you don't even need a license. But my new boss did let me do practice problems on their computer program later in the day, and time was not as long, as I actually started feeling like I did something. Before that, I was reading the company manual and doing little else. It was a bit amusing how unprofessionally enthusiastic some parts of it were.

Twice in the manual, it literally says that the company strives to be "the #1 tax preparation firm in the universe."
The universe--there IS life on other planets, and it has both a government and a monetary system!
I also learned who really killed Kennedy (it was Johnson), because my new coworkers are just that, um...interesting.
Something else I found interesting was the assertion that was made, "Pence won't do that to Trump." What? Is the vice president killing the president a common thing or something? If they're so confident of Pence's goodness, how did the possibility of him being a murderer even come up? I've never thought to say, "Jesus wasn't a rapist," and I would be disturbed if I did. My coworkers talked about how nice Pence was, but still apparently wondered, briefly, if he would kill someone.
Of course, when I told a few Facebook friends that I knew who really killed Kennedy, one of them was so overcome with guilt that he confessed that he had killed JFK. When asked whether he was acting on the orders of his alien overlords, he replied, "I am the alien overlord."
So I guess we've got two suspects now. And now I know whom the aliens pay their taxes to.

Less amusing was another conversation I overheard, between the two women who weren't my boss.
"You know what I've been praying lately? I just pray that my grandkids never have kids."
I thought at first she meant "out of wedlock" or "in their teens," but the other lady reacted with shock and almost horror.
"If you aren't bringing up the right kind of people in the world, what are you doing?" she asked.
"But my son isn't as conservative as I am," the first one explained. I didn't hear much after that.

It was disturbing on so many levels. The pressure to have kids, the pressure not to have kids--especially because the parents weren't like her. And I myself do worry about the possibly-gay or trans kids of conservative parents, but only because I'm afraid of the very real harm caused by anti-LGBT beliefs, or that they will harm others. Maybe she is afraid for her possible great-grandchildren's souls...but my worry causes harm and even suicide in the one life we know we have.
I'm not sure exactly what she meant by that, and I don't intend to ask. I don't want to participate when they discuss religion or politics in the office.
I can't imagine coming out at work in the foreseeable future. In Oregon, I can't be fired because of sexual orientation, and I am told that tax preparers are scarce. But I want to do it when I'm comfortable in this job, and only then if it comes up.
Right now, I might say I don't have a boyfriend because I'm "busy" and "a lazy dater." Or maybe even, it's hard to find a good guy, or someone who shares my values. It's true, since I don't believe in buying new cars or other status symbols. And, though I am bisexual, I just see myself as happier with another girl, and it's very rare anymore that I like a guy as much as I like the thought of being with a nice, pretty girl.
But that values thing above could come in handy. If I ever do come out, my angle will be that I am a gay Christian. All of my coworkers I have met so far seem to be Christian. And my own faith journey is...complicated, but I never set out to lose my faith, so why should anyone tell me what I can and can't be? (Though I won't put it like that, at work. I don't owe them information about my spiritual journey that they will just use to inwardly condemn me anyway.)
If I am to change anyone's mind, I want it to be because of people getting to know and like me, and then learning what I am. Or better yet, I want to change people's minds with my own happy life.

The one who didn't want great-grandchildren (how sad is that!) is the receptionist, the first person who greets people when they walk in the door. Is she going to be able to equally welcome all people, or more specifically all couples? Is she going to make everyone feel right at home, without a hint of unprofessional disapproval? I guess I'll have to keep my eyes and ears open.
I have no idea what the future holds, but right now I have enough on my plate without worrying about how to tell religious coworkers. I guess I'll just have to focus on my religious extended family instead--eventually...

Wednesday, January 4, 2017

LGBT/Minimalism/Preppers: Storing Books

I am soon starting my new job as a tax preparer, and the twelve inches of snow that prevented me from going to my first day of training for the job today, remind me that when my family and I get snow here in the country, we sometimes lose power too. So I'm writing while I can.
The snow also reminds me of the two conflicting ideologies I have: being a minimalist, who also wants to prepare for hard times that may come.
So when it comes to books, I have to figure out a balance between the urge to get rid of almost everything, and the urge to hoard everything. I love books, and if we lose power for a long period of time, paper books are all I have. So there's the urge to collect as many paper books as I cheaply can, in the hope that some of them are good, and in case I don't have any other means of entertainment left.
Older used books, if you know the right places to look, are very cheap, in general. I miss the library book sales half the time (which irritates me to no end that they can't advertise the sales better). But even without them, I recently managed to find dozens of science-fiction novellas from the 1950s through the 1970s in a local thrift shop, for a dollar each. So I stocked up on the ones that looked good.

The problem, though, is that it's nearly impossible to find older books with LGBT characters, much less non-straight romance, even in a genre full of alien species. And I like me some gay romance to warm my little gay heart.
And to make it even more awful, in most straight romance, the author's idea of compatibility consists of, "They're in close proximity to each other, and their genitals don't match." Or, even worse, "They hate each other, and their genitals don't match."
Yet there is some interesting subtext in some of these novels. I am convinced that the one I am reviewing right now, The Wrong End of Time by John Brunner, reflects the late author's struggle with his own sexuality. And in another novel I have read a bit of, Invaders From Rigel by Fletcher Pratt, two "roommates" seem to be a gay couple, one calling the other "old dear," and behaving like he very much cares for Old Dear.
But I want more than subtext. Imagine how straight people would feel if examples of their romance were suppressed for decades, centuries even, or portrayed as decadent, destructive, or wrong--and reading the gay romance in old books was just a depressing reminder that their ancestors had to hide their love. If only we lived in a world where no one had to feel this way.

There are excellent stories out there, with characters who happen to fall in love in matching pairs of men and women. And some characters even go from living as a man to living as a woman, and vice versa. But these books are, nearly all of them, relatively modern, and so relatively expensive. And often, the cheapest option for these is ebooks, which would disappear if we lost access to electricity over the long term.
I can't go out and buy a dozen "gay" books as easily or cheaply as I could a dozen "straight" books. About a month ago, I inquired about LGBT books at a local used bookstore in a small town near me, and the man working there directed me to the feminist section, saying, "You might find some here." I didn't find even one. And I live in Oregon, a semi-blue state.
So I stock up on cheap scifi, mystery, and other books I am curious about, occasionally when I can, while using the rest of my book money to buy books I really want. And the cheap books are almost as easily gotten rid of as they are acquired.

There are also ways to make the most of the heteronormative old books you find. I'm having fun writing a review of a book with very homophobic overtones. I also enjoy reading between the lines, and speculating on what the author was going through at the time, or whether he or she was subtextually writing LGBT characters. It's really fun to dissect a story, criticize it, and speculate about the author.
Writing gay fan fiction, mostly in my head for my own entertainment, is another way I deal with the lack of what I really want to read.
But in most of the books I have, there is always something missing. Stories are not as vibrant, without characters of all kinds of abilities, sexualities, gender identities, races, etc. In the batch of scifi I got, I believe all of the protagonists are male, and almost all are white--the lead in The Wrong End of Time is black (though more "well-spoken" than the bad black characters, meaning understood by the white characters), and the lead in two others (Galactic Derelict and The Defiant Agents by Andre Norton) is Apache. But there is not much diversity other than that, to my knowledge. And these stories really miss out, because of it.

When it comes to minimalism and "stuff," different circumstances in life make me want different things. The snow makes me want to hoard things, especially information and entertainment through books. I have lived through many winters where my only source of entertainment for a day or more are the paper books that I have on hand.
I like to look at pictures of personal and public libraries on Pinterest. I love to dream of having lots and lots of books. But sometimes I think that I'll just get rid of most of the books anyway, especially if they are antique leather-bound books and therefore probably boring to me, terribly heteronormative, or morally appalling in what they do write about homosexuals.
But a more modern science-fiction library, even if most of these paperbacks are written for a straight, homophobic audience? Yeah, I might take that. (I also might cull it down, though.) But I do like having cheap entertainment when there's nothing else to read.
Some people are minimalists, except when it comes to books. I try to keep that in mind, whenever I feel like I have too many. I have a shelf full of cheap scifi, and if I had a lot more, I would probably get rid of some. If they're boring, I won't even read them before I give them away. And I will get rid of them when I'm done reading or reviewing them, too. They are held looser than other books, more easily gotten rid of.
And sometimes I even get rid of the "permanent" books I have on hand, when I'm not using them regularly. Those are more challenging to decide on, and to get rid of. But that's another subject altogether.
The bottom line with books, and with anything, is that you just have to find a balance that works for you. Too much would be overwhelming, and too little would make you feel deprived.
One of the most helpful things I have ever done was to write down the names and authors of the books I'm unsure of getting rid of, so that I can get them back if I want to. I have a special notebook with only that list. So far, I have not had to use it to get any books back, but it does comfort me, nonetheless.
Find the right balance for you--the balance between getting rid of everything and hoarding it all, and the balance between cheap books and desirable books--and write down the ones you do get rid of, if that makes it easier. Your book collection will probably be expanding and shrinking for the rest of your life, so don't worry if it expands temporarily.

Book Review: TWET--What It Gets Right

 The Wrong End of Time by John Brunner, page 28.

I am really impressed by this author's condemnation of materialism and keeping up with the Joneses. I just wish that in the process, he didn't seem to condemn the metaphorical Mr. and Mr. Jones just for being a couple.
Let's see what our Soviet agent thinks of this near-future society, and to a larger extent, what the author thought of our present-day society:

They would take pains to impress him with their loyalty, their right thinking; they would have the proper photographs and flags on display. Small matter if they were afraid of some impersonal, august, omniscient security force, rather than the cold consensus of their neighbors--the effect was essentially the same. 

 That last sentence tells us that the author is talking about more than a fictional near-future world. Indeed, his fictional America and world is merely an exaggeration of our own--from the garbage filling the ocean, to everyone being armed, to the televangelist being a creepy pervert who tries to grope girls at parties and touches himself while watching others making out, but is still revered by his flock. (Although, to be fair, that last one probably isn't an exaggeration at all.)
The cold consensus of our neighbors--is that what we are so afraid of? I've often wondered if people in subdivisions are more likely than country people, or even city people, to feel pressured into buying expensive cars and boats to impress their neighbors. Country people look out their windows and see nature or their own field animals; city people look out and see strangers coming and going. But the people in the suburbs look out their windows, and see people that they have to live with and put up with, possibly for the rest of their lives.
They see the neighbor next door who always seems like a smugly perfect mom, or the guy across the street who always has to top everyone else with his gadgets. (Or am I just thinking of sitcoms?)
Either way, I have noticed that, in my experience, people living and working in crowded environments--suburbs, large employers such as schools and government organizations, and churches--tend to spend more conspicuously. This is especially true of churches, where the pressure is to put up a "blessed" front so that you look like a good Christian.
My mom had a "good" job for a little while, with a local government agency. But she didn't like it, mostly because of the pettiness of the women working there. She mentioned to me that every one of them had designer purses and expensive cars. With how many people were working there, the Veterans' Administration had become its own materialistic subculture.
I'm sure there are some that resist the urge to buy nice new cars, furniture, boats, and vacations. But they don't talk about it. And living in the suburbs, especially more prosperous or middle-class suburbs, would not make it any easier.

They would strive to be dedicated pillars of their community, set on raising their children to follow in their footsteps, endlessly quarreling with them when they scoffed or asked unanswerable questions. 
But he had seen a man under a tree: thin, wearing only a loincloth, one eye filmed with a cataract, who spent the day in ecstatic enjoyment of the sun's heat on his skin, and at nightfall fumbled in the bowl before him and ate what he found. There was always something in the bowl.

After that he had to be Donald Holtzer again, and Holtzer was not troubled by such thoughts. 


The spy, "Holtzer," was thinking of a man he had seen in India, who owned nothing but a begging bowl. The man was content, even with so little. And "there was always something in the bowl." The universe, the world, provided for the man. And in a less general sense, his fellow human beings were willing to share. There was enough for everyone. How could Sheklov, even in his alter ego as Holtzer, not be changed after what he had seen? How could he ever be the same, when he had seen the alternative? Or when he knew there was an alternative?
I like how Brunner, the author, has a talent for making a seemingly insignificant sentence, in context, become dramatic and raise the conflict of the story and the inner conflict of the characters. That, at least, is something this obsessively homophobic--and thereby harmfully mistaken--man did right.

Tuesday, January 3, 2017

Book Review: TWET: An Alternative Explanation

In The Wrong End of Time by John Brunner, the title tells us that it is about time travel or alternate timelines. The back cover tells us that it is about trying to save the earth from alien attack. But this book is really about a near-future America that has gone off the deep end of decadence, racism, and Cold War paranoia. Those looking for time travel or aliens will be sorely disappointed.
But this book is ultimately, as I have been arguing, about the author's own internalized homophobia. For someone who portrays homosexuality so negatively, and thereby ostensibly doesn't like it...he portrays it a lot! This was published in 1973, and I am curious now to read the late author's later works, and see if he still has this obsession running through them.
I definitely think that the author was working through some personal stuff. And I hope he eventually resolved it, even if he died in the closet.
It is pretty obvious that the "bad," or decadent and racist, people, are the ones tolerant of or engaging in homosexuality. It's an open secret among both the elite, and the street thugs who try to kill a young woman in order to sell her expensive clothes. If we accept homosexuality (and to a lesser extent, straight promiscuity), the author warns, then the oceans and beaches will fill with garbage, gas station attendants will point guns at you every time you fill up, no one will be allowed to be artists or free spirits without hatred and harassment, and most of all, the aliens will blow us all up.

But there is a slight possibility that the author had better intentions than to just slam homosexuals and thereby feel more straight. As I said in previous posts, the homosexuality in this book has a distinctly dated flavor. Homosexuality here is, for a man, cheating on one's wife--not being faithful to one's husband. It is as homosexuality was portrayed often in the 1970s, not as it is portrayed and known today.
And that's the rub: In this terrible, materialistic society, homosexuality is a shameful or semi-shameful secret. It is embraced and accepted, but not very openly. I should say, it is tolerated rather than accepted. Two women at a party demand to sleep with the host because their husbands are making out with each other. And a Soviet spy has a "cover story" of sleeping with a man, in order to explain his occasional disappearances (to his wife, I believe, not his employer--it's unclear, however he does have a wife and has to at least pretend to hide occasional craving for a man).
In this world, as far as I know, there is no gay Pride, no gay marriage, no protections for LGBT people--and anti-sodomy laws are supposed to be enforced in some states.
And because it is so "tolerant" and yet so unaccepting, America has gone down the toilet. The oceans have filled with garbage and the aliens are going to blast us out of orbit, because of the way we treat our LGBT citizens. The white-collar ones have to keep secrets, and the racial minorities have to resort to a life of crime just to make ends meet. This form of tolerant homophobia goes hand in hand with racism and classism. Like certain others, LGBT people are tolerated, so long as they stay in "their place."

I don't think this was the author's intention, but this could also be a message that one could take away from this work. Either the author is telling us that tolerance of homosexuality is literally another sign that the end (via the wrath of aliens, and in a larger sense via the Cold War) is nigh, or he is actually more clever and subtle with his message than I thought.

Monday, January 2, 2017

Book Review: The Wrong End of Time by John Brunner--A Mind Warped By Internalized Homophobia

A quibble I have with this book is that the plot has nothing to do with the title, other than the aliens threatening to "bomb us back to the stone age," but that is not really time travel, since I doubt that we would then be interacting with actual Neanderthals. It's also rather strange for an alien race to threaten that (or seem to, by broadcasting images of Neanderthals to earth), and the Soviets would interpret the image that way, when that is an American expression.
In my last post, I talked about a "homophobic" joke on page 16 that actually makes two very good arguments against anti-sodomy laws. On page 18, we encounter a work crew, all black, who are tearing up a perfectly good road and rebuilding it, because they are on welfare and the government therefore makes useless work for them.
This book is a fascinating look into a mind warped by internalize homophobia, but it's also interesting that in Brunner's semi-dystopian near-future, race and class relations have deteriorated considerably, cars and other products have ridiculously short planned obsolescence built in, the sea and beaches are filled with floating garbage, radiation is so high that it is forecast on the news just like the weather, and everyone is so paranoid that cars have built-in guns and gas station attendants point guns at their customers as a matter of course. Tolerance for homosexuality, and for promiscuity in general, is in the same category as the environment going to shit, higher-class decadence as a contrast for increased overcrowding and poverty, and rampant racism and class differences among the races.

And yet...Brunner is portraying what, for lack of a better term, I will call "1970s homosexuality." In Brunner's world, a typical homosexual man marries a woman, keeps up a pretense of straightness, and yet at parties starts "necking" with another man. Occasionally, he also goes in search of a man to sleep with, while his wife and the rest of society looks the other way and pretends nothing is happening. 1970s homosexuality, at least as it is portrayed here, is just another form of promiscuity, like having a mistress. (In other words, it's like the actual behavior of anti-gay evangelical Christians.)
The author also seems unaware of the existence of bisexuality, since that word is never mentioned.
But homosexuality here is still a secret, even in a world that tolerates it. The author cannot seem to comprehend a world of respected, faithful, out gay couples--much less those I know today who are legally married, raising children together, and very involved in local Christian churches. (Presbyterian and Methodist, in fact.)
The most promiscuous homosexual of Brunner's work could not conceive of being so out of the closet, and so respected by most of society, as we have today. And yet, as awful as our world can sometimes seem, we have for the most part avoided the terrible things that, in this book, came with this tolerance and acceptance as a society.
So...sorry, Brunner, your warnings just didn't hold up.

The tolerance for homosexuality portrayed in this book is also clearly the product of a bygone era. People complain about it a little, but ultimately it's just a nuisance to straight friends and family members. It's a nuisance, instead of just a part of who someone is. It's like a son who annoys his traditional parents by having hair they think is too long. The attitude seems to be along the lines of, "Well, I don't like it, but what can you do?"
And for some people even today, that is progress--unfortunately. But for somebody who is as homophobic as the author, while trying to imagine "degeneration" in society or whatever he calls it, he cannot fathom the kind of tolerance we have today. And yet, the world has not ended.
Brunner also never thought, apparently, that gay people want to be respected in society, as themselves, and not just tolerated. That what we feel is love, and not just lust. That we want to marry our partners and stay true to them. That we're not just being promiscuous.
And maybe that's what would have saved the late John Brunner from his own self-hatred. I am convinced that he was working through some personal things, in this book and maybe others.
Maybe he would have had an easier time if he had known that homosexuality doesn't have to involve cheating on your wife--that it can also involve being faithful to your husband. I imagine that most people did not know that, in the 1970s when this book was published. Perhaps "The Wrong End of Time" is actually an apt description of where Brunner himself was. Too bad he was apparently unable to grow with the times.

LGBT/Book Review: The Wrong End of Time by John Brunner--Useful Bigots

The Wrong End of Time by John Brunner is a science-fiction novella published in 1973, which I picked up at a thrift shop for a dollar. I expected it to be rather heteronormative, but there are surprisingly a lot of mentions of gay people in it. They are not always good, and there are some very problematic portrayals of minor gay characters later on in the book, but I found one "homophobic" joke particularly interesting.
The story is set in a future world, in which America has become so paranoid of the Soviets that it has completely shielded itself from the rest of the world with its defense systems, and in which every car has a gun mounted on the dash board because even the citizens are paranoid. A Soviet agent smuggles himself into the country, trying to do something to bring about world peace before an alien race blows us all up because of our barbarism.
And yet it is not just from the Soviet agent's point of view. There is a man named Danty, whose profession is unknown, who somehow witnesses the agent come ashore. He seemed to have foreknowledge of this event, but doesn't seem to work for the government, because he does not alert anyone of what just happened. He seems to be a "reb," the future label for a loathed loafer. He also seems to have some sort of clairvoyant power, as well as power to influence others psychically. (Perhaps he is working with or for the aliens, somehow?)

Danty witnesses the Soviet agent come ashore and drive off with a man who met him with a car. Danty does nothing to stop it, or to tell anyone about it. He even, perhaps with his psychic abilities, turns off the defensive system that might catch the agent. He leaves it off, even though he doesn't know why he does so. (Perhaps some outside power or spirit influences him--again, the aliens?)
Danty then seems to influence a passing driver on the "superway" to stop for him, even though picking up hitchhikers is illegal and punished severely. The man himself is confused as to why he stopped, which makes me think that Danty had some sort of power over him.
They drive into a gas station, where they meet an attendant, in his tower, with his gun pointed at them, because this is a very paranoid world. A policeman drives up behind them, as the man who picked up Danty, Rollins, becomes sweaty and nervous. Danty comes back from the bathroom, as the cop demands his ID, and Rollins says that Danty is his friend.

The patrolman slapped shut and returned the redbook. "Okay," was all he said, but under his voice, clear as shouting, he was adding: So, a couple fruits most likely. I should arrest that kind on suspicion? I'd be at it all day. Anyway, they'd jump bail and head for a state where it's allowed.

This cop despises gay men enough to call them "fruits" unironically and totally non-jokingly, and yet he just made two very good arguments against anti-sodomy laws in the space of a few seconds. (And now that I look at it again, it seems that Danty read the cop's mind.)
A hardened, bigoted cop is just too weary, busy, and fed up with the non-effectiveness of anti-sodomy laws to enforce them. That's...actually pretty enlightened.
There may be problems with that joke I just don't see (please leave a comment about your thoughts, if you want), and the author later portrays people meant to be gay in a very unflattering light, but after thinking it over, I kind of like what happened here. The cop's, and what seems to be the author's, bigotry...works in favor of the "fruits."
The joke is also on Rollins, who is also homophobic, as Danty is amused by Rollins' blushing as he figures out what the cop is probably thinking.

The author, the late John Brunner, seems obsessed with homosexuality in this book. It is portrayed negatively, as a symptom of decadence and promiscuity, yet it is constantly there--especially towards the end, mentioned directly what seems like every few pages. It seems that Brunner was working through some stuff, and this book is a fascinating look into his mind.
Unfortunately for Brunner, he seems to have died with his internalized homophobia unresolved, as I could find no indication on the internet that he ever accepted himself enough to be with a man, or even stop marrying women. There is no indication, either, that he was in fact bisexual, and happened to fall in love with women. But now I am also curious to read some of his later stuff, to see whether he was still fixated on something he ostensibly didn't like.
There is so much homophobic/homoerotic content in this book, and I will be reviewing all of it. And even if he never came out publicly, I really hope that Brunner was able to accept himself privately (if you read this book, you will see how obvious his fascination really is). At least, in a way, it is good that he cannot potentially hurt anyone with his homophobic beliefs anymore...hopefully, I should say, with the fact of his writings living after him.