Between men--between women

"On the one hand, the book is a carefully researched and scholarly work that will appeal to researchers, policymakers, mental health professionals, and service providers. On the other, it is a highly readable, enjoyable, and informative work for families of gay sons or lesbian daughters."

In day-to-day life, people often act as if they know exactly what they mean by boys and girls, masculine and feminine, butch and femme. Render Me, Gender Me challenges comfortable assumptions about gender by weaving Kath Weston's own thought-provoking commentary together with the voices of lesbians from a variety of race and class backgrounds.

A half century ago gay men and lesbians were all but invisible in the media and, in turn, popular culture. With the lesbian and gay liberation movement came a profoundly new sense of homosexual community and empowerment and the emergence of gay people onto the media's stage. And yet even as the mass media have been shifting the terms of our public conversation toward a greater acknowledgment of diversity, does the emerging "visibility" of gay men and women do justice to the complexity and variety of their experience? Or is gay identity manipulated and contrived by media that are unwilling―and perhaps unable―to fully comprehend and honor it? While positive representations of gays and lesbians are a cautious step in the right direction, media expert Larry Gross argues that the entertainment and news media betray a lingering inability to break free from proscribed limitations in order to embrace the complex reality of gay identity. While noting major advances, like the opening of the Oscar Wilde Memorial Bookstore―the first gay bookstore in the country―or the rise of The Advocate from small newsletter to influential national paper, Gross takes the measure of somewhat more ambiguous milestones, like the first lesbian kiss on television or the first gay character in a newspaper comic strip.

An in-depth study of early 20th century social conditions and cultural trends in Britain that constructed the popular image of the "modern lesbian."

Gloria Wekker analyzes the phenomenon of mati work, an old practice among Afro-Surinamese working-class women in which marriage is rejected in favor of male and female sexual partners. Wekker vividly describes the lives of these women, who prefer to create alternative families of kin, lovers, and children, and gives a fascinating account of women's sexuality that is not limited to either heterosexuality or same-sex sexuality. She offers new perspectives on the lives of Caribbean women, transnational gay and lesbian movements, and an Afro-Surinamese tradition that challenges conventional Western notions of marriage, gender, identity, and desire. Bringing these women's voices to the forefront, she offers an extensive and groundbreaking analysis of the unique historical, religious, psychological, economic, linguistic, cultural, and political forces that have shaped their lives.

This classic text, originally published in 1991, draws upon fieldwork and interviews to explore the ways gay men and lesbians are constructing their own notions of kinship by drawing on the symbolism of love, friendship, and biology.

In April 1993, as part of the March on Washington for Lesbian, Gay, and Bi Equal Rights and Liberation, hundreds of couples participated in "the Wedding," a symbolic commitment ceremony held in front of the Internal Revenue Service building. Part protest and part affirmation of devotion, the event was a reminder that marriage rights have become a major issue among lesbians and gay men, who cannot marry legally and can only claim domestic partner rights in a few locations in the United States. Yet despite official lack of recognition, same-sex wedding ceremonies have been increasing in frequency over the past decade. Ellen Lewin, who has consecrated her own lesbian relationship with a commitment ceremony, decided to explore the myriad ways in which lesbians and gay men create meaningful ceremonies for themselves. She offers the first comprehensive account of lesbian and gay weddings in modern America. A series of richly detailed profiles—the result of extensive interviews and participation in the planning and realization of many of these commitment rituals—is woven together to show how new traditions, and ultimately new families, are emerging within contemporary America. Just as the book is a moving portrait of same-sex couples today, it is also a significant political document on a new arena in the struggle for lesbian and gay rights. In a larger sense, Lewin's work is about the politics surrounding same-sex marriages and the ramifications for central dimensions of American culture such as kinship, community, morality, and love. Lewin explores the ceremonies themselves, which range from traditional church weddings to Wicca rituals in the countryside, with portraits of the planning, the joys, and the anxieties that led up to the weddings. She introduces Bob and Mark, a leather fetishist couple who sanctified their love by legally changing their last names and exchanging vows in tuxedos, leather bow ties, and knee-high police boots. In an equally absorbing profile, Lewin describes Khadija, from a working-class black family deeply suspicious of whites (and especially Jews) and Shulamith, raised in a Zionist household. She tells of how the two women struggled to reconcile their widely disparate upbringings and how they ultimately combined elements of African and Jewish traditions in their wedding. These, among many other stories, make Recognizing Ourselves a vivid tapestry of lesbian and gay life in post-Stonewall United States.

Lesbian life in America continues to evolve. As Lillian Faderman writes, there are “no constants with regard to lesbianism,” except that lesbians prefer women. In this book, Faderman reclaims the story of lesbian life in twentieth-century America, tracing the evolution of lesbian identity and subcultures from early networks to today’s diverse lifestyles. Faderman samples from journals, unpublished manuscripts, songs, media accounts, novels, medical literature, pop culture artifacts, and rich firsthand testimony with lesbians of all races, ages, and classes, uncovering a surprising narrative of unparalleled depth and originality.

Male homosexual activity in public and semipublic locations is a central but seldom explored dimension of gay culture around the world. The majority of existing research emphasizes the impersonality of such erotic interaction and underscores the element of danger involved. While never denying the danger of anonymous public sex in the age of AIDS, the contributors to Public Sex/Gay Space go beyond narrow moralisms about the need to regulate unsafe sexual practices to discuss the significance of sex in public. William Leap has brought together contributions from such fields as anthropology, sociology, literary criticism, and history to reinvigorate the discussion on this issue, with twelve essays providing a more nuanced portrait of why public sexual activity is such an integral part of gay culture. The authors present rich ethnographic snapshots of male sex in public places--many drawn from interviews with participants or, in some instances, the authors' personal experiences.Contributors investigate a broad cultural spectrum of gay sexual space and activity: in a public park in contemporary Hanoi, at the beachfront community of New York's Fire Island, and in nineteenth-century Amsterdam, for example. They explore issues such as visibility and secrecy, as well as economic status and social class, and interrogate the historical trajectories through which certain locations come to be favored sites for sexual encounters. Together, they offer insight into the ways in which public sex calls into question the very line that divides "public" from "private."

Here at last is a comprehensive and highly approachable introduction to lesbian and gay studies for students and general readers. More than one hundred articles, essays, and primary documents cover the formation of gay identity, religious, scientific, medical, and legal perspectives, the mainstream media, lesbian and gay media, and community prospects and tactics. From Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick's essay, "How to Bring Your Kids Up Gay," to Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger's "Letter to the Bishops of the Catholic Church on the Pastoral Care of Homosexual Persons," to a 1947 Newsweek article, "Homosexuals in Uniform," The Columbia Reader explores experiences and representations of lesbian and gay people in an engaging and accessible format.

The winner of the 1999 Ruth Benedict Book Award in Anthropology, editors and feminist anthropologists, Blackwood and Wieringa, envisioned this anthology as a long due corrective in the arena of cross-cultural, female, same-sex sexuality research. Lack of legitimacy, invisibility, inadequate research questions, androcentric bias, and "blindness," have long been concerns for many feminist scholars. However, the authors argue that along with research stigma, the heterosexism of feminist scholarship and phallocentric scholarship of male-homosexual research have perpetuated and maintained deeper erasures in lesbian and female same-sex research. Lesbian-feminist work in the United States since the 1980s, the authors maintain, has influenced their work, but has also "analytically separated the study of female sexuality from male sexuality" and "is a primary motivation behind this volume" (48).

In Days of Masquerade Claudia Schoppmann offers the first in-depth account of lesbians living in Germany during the Third Reich. Through a series of interviews, Schoppmann recounts the lives of perpetrators, bystanders, and victims: women who fought against Hitler's regime, others who married gay men to ward off suspicion, and one who remained active despite fairly clear pronouncements of her sexuality. Schoppmann enriches these vivid oral histories with the findings of her archival research, including a fascinating look at Nazi policy papers. She explores the drive toward sexual emancipation in Imperial and Weimar Germany and presents a comprehensive overview of Nazi attitudes and policies toward homosexual men and women. Identifying ways in which the Nazi positions were highly gender-specific, she points out that lesbianism was seen as less reprehensible than male homosexuality, since it was not considered a threat to women's reproductive potential. Days of Masquerade demonstrates that lesbianism, though not criminalized or subjected to systematic persecution as was male homosexuality, was driven underground by the Nazis, the thriving lesbian communities that had flourished during the Weimar Republic effectively destroyed. An eloquent reminder of the "forgotten victims" of the Third Reich, Days of Masquerade also points out that the experiences of gay men and lesbians during the Nazi era were not one and the same. As a major chapter in the social history of lesbians, Schoppmann's work opens new doors for students of lesbian and gay history, women's studies, and modern German and European history.

In this compellingly honest collection of her writings, renowned feminist philosopher Claudia Card courageously explores the complex ethical and political questions lesbians face, considering these issues in regard to their identities and relationships both within and outside of lesbian communities. Lesbian Choices is written with a grace and clarity that readers inside and outside academia will appreciate. Claudia Card's lucid presentation of complicated philosophical and ethical concepts offers a better understanding of the explosive issue of gender construction in our society. Lesbian Choices is recommended reading for anyone interested in lesbianism, feminism, ethics, and philosophy.