There is a whole lot of online chatter generated because Annie Proulx, author of Brokeback Mountain, said recently that she felt her intentions in writing the book have been misinterpreted. I stopped answering some of the comments because they had become intensely hateful & unreasonable. In my 20’s in Gay Lib it was easy to be intense about THE cause; the enemies were everywhere. In fact, otherwise reasonable hetero couples seemed blithely unaware of the existence of gay people. Needless to say, that unconcern was infuriating.
As a visual artist, it is Proulx’s right to feel aggrieved about reactions to her novel. Her intention, anyway, has been thrice diluted: from novel to script to screen play. I know from my exhibitions during the Sydney GLBTIQ Mardi Gras, people frankly seemed to take the work completely unseriously. If they were there for drinks & a lascivious good time it all rolled past their eyes effortlessly; if they were were art apparatchiks you were on trial. None of that gracious attitude that art takes effort & a major toll on yr life energies.
I understand Proulx’s attitude: the climate where homophobia is allowed to flourish needs serious study; however, I find that novels from that era, often by anonymous writers are unreadable: lots of nods n winks. Although he is redeemed by his high camp style & for having influenced Evelyn Waugh, Ronald Firbank personifies the epigrammatic & elliptical, n is barely readable.
I look forward to the time when a more nuanced reality will become apparent in the GLBTIQ communities; the current issue is same sex union parity. It is a situation that will only succeed in gated communities & in affluent settings. Anyway, the first gay divorce has already been listed; meanwhile, str8s are avoiding the institution like the plague. I thought we were vanguard stylists.