30 Days of Literary Pride - June 10
The Deviant’s War: The Homosexual vs. the United States of America - Eric Cervini
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30 Days of Literary Pride - June 10
The Deviant’s War: The Homosexual vs. the United States of America - Eric Cervini
[2021|027] The Deviant's War: The Homosexual vs. the United States of America (2020) written by Eric Cervini
~gwen reads~
The Deviants War: The Homosexual vs The United States of America 5/5 ⭐
By Eric Cervini
A very important book detailing the history of the American gay rights movement. This book focuses primarily on Frank Kameny, one of the biggest figures in the gay civil rights movement. One of my favorite things to watch was how gay people and the gay culture want from feeling ashamed, but still needing to work and saying they should be treated well despite their deviance to realizing that being gay was good and moral and fuck everyone who says otherwise. It also touches on early conflicts such as respectability politics as well as ties between the Civil rights movement and conflicts between the women's rights movement. Clocking in at a thicc 500+ pages, this isn't a book that you can sit down with for some light reading, but I can't overstate it's importance in terms of gay cultural history.
Next up: Such a fun age by Kiley Reid
The FBI’s Sex Deviates Program
Selection from The Deviant’s War: The Homosexual vs. the United States of America, by Eric Cervini, 2020.
In 1933, a few months after the attorney general appointed him director of the new Division of Investigation in the Department of Justice, J. Edgar Hoover read an appalling description of himself in Collier’s magazine. Hoover, the leader of America’s “secret federal police system,” was “short, fat, businesslike,” and walked with a “rather mincing step, almost feminine.” It marked the first time anyone had put the rumors in print. The thirty-eight-year-old, unmarried Hoover still lived with his mother, and he had never been seen with a woman. The Bureau responded quickly, planting a story in Liberty magazine—the same publication delivered by a young Franklin Kameny in Queens—that described him as “170 pounds of live, virile masculinity.”
Despite the rumors, America’s growing preoccupation with sexual deviance helped Hoover grow his personal empire of surveillance, which would ultimately last forty-eight years and eight presidents. In 1935, the division became the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and its director began throwing fuel onto America’s concern about sex crimes. The “sex fiend, most loathsome of all the vast army of crime, has become a sinister threat to the safety of American childhood and Womanhood,” warned Hoover in 1937. His Bureau opened a Sex Offenders file, and across the country, police roundups of sexual deviants became the norm. The director’s “War on the Sex Criminal,” meanwhile, helped him justify a larger, better-funded Federal Bureau of Investigation.
First Organized Gay Demonstration at the White House
Selection from The Deviant’s War: The Homosexual vs. the United States of America, by Eric Cervini, 2020.
ON APRIL 15, 1965, Cuba’s state-run newspaper, El Mundo, announced that Fidel Castro’s Communist government intended to impose “revolutionary social hygiene” to address the “rampant” and “abominable” vice of homosexuality. The next day, on April 16, The New York Times carried the news. “This was understood,” it concluded, “as a warning that homosexuals would be rounded up and sent to labor camps.”
That night, [Frank] Kameny received two phone calls. First, from Dick Leitsch. In two days, on Easter Sunday, New York homosexuals would gather at the United Nations to protest the Castro regime’s announcement, said Leitsch.
Then, a call from Jack Nichols in Washington. This is the moment, the precipitating event to galvanize both homosexuals and the American public, Nichols argued. It was time for the Mattachine Society of Washington to march. [...] The Society would picket the White House, in Washington’s first organized demonstration of homosexuals, the following day. [...]
Ernestine Eppenger: A Black Homophile and Lesbian Activist
Selections from The Deviant’s War: The Homosexual vs. the United States of America, by Eric Cervini, 2020.
Below is a selection about Ernestine Eppenger, who became the vice president of the New York branch of Daughters of Bilitis. While DOB is often remembered as a more cautious and respectable lesbian organization, this passage reveals that alternate visions and strategies were promoted by some members.
I also included a passage that touches on the failure of the white Mattachine Society of Washington to build meaningful solidarity with gay/bi and straight black people. This was in spite of the fact that MSW members frequently used analogies to anti-black racism and antisemitism to condemn discrimination against (white) homosexuals, and used the black freedom/civil rights movement as a model for homophile activism.
When Ernestine Eppenger moved to New York, her college best friend came out to her. Ernestine, do you know that I’m gay? he asked. Do you know the term gay?
“All of a sudden, things began to click,” she later explained. She knew others like her existed. As a black lesbian woman, she reasoned there must also exist a movement for homosexuals, something like the black freedom movement.
She had already left the NAACP in favor of the more militant, demonstration-friendly Congress of Racial Equality. “I always had the impression that the NAACP’s chief aim was to create a sort of pad for outstanding Negroes that they could get ahead,” she admitted to Barbara Gittings for a Ladder interview. It did not seem to care about the black man or woman on the street.
Eppenger soon found the DOB and joined it immediately, choosing “Ernestine Eckstein” as her pseudonym. But the DOB, she soon realized, cared too much about the individual lesbian, focusing only on social and educational events. The group had a ridiculous name, and it even eschewed picketing, which she believed to be a relatively conservative activity. After growing frustrated, Eppenger even considered starting her own lesbian organization.
As a child, [Barbara] Gittings had wanted to become a nun. Steeped in her family’s Catholicism and wealth, she glided between Mass and white-gloved debutante balls. While studying theater at Northwestern, she excavated the university’s written materials on homosexuality beneath the imposing stone buttresses and stained glass of the university’s neo-Gothic library. The books she found were anything but reassuring. Pathology, disturbance, maladaptation, arrested development, they said. The studies compared the measurements of various body parts—earlobes, fingernails, hips—of homosexuals and heterosexuals. They analyzed homosexuals’ favorite color (green). And, overwhelmingly, they discussed only men. ( The Deviant’s War: The Homosexual vs. the United States of America, by Eric Cervini, 2020)
Didn’t realize homosexuals had a favorite color.
The Deviant's War: The Homosexual vs the United States of America
Eric Cervini
Publisher: Farrar, Straus & Giroux Genre: nonfiction, queer theory Year: 2020
I just finished The Deviant’s War: The Homosexual vs the United States of America, a nonfiction account of Frank Kameny, Harvard educated astronomer and gay rights activist.
This book is such an important read. The focus of this book is strictly regarding the legal battle of the queer community in the 50s and 60s, and it really did teach me a lot about my own history, even as an avid history reader.
Kameny was fired from the US government for being gay in the middle of the space race—a time when astronomers were sorely needed and it shaped his entire life. All he wanted was to work in the field in which he earned his doctorate, but that opportunity was denied him most his life, which he spent penniless. He taught himself law and spent the next four decades suing the government on behalf of himself and any other queer person he could help, with the end goal of allowing homosexuals, or homophiles as they called themselves at the time, clearance to work for the government.
Frank founded the Mattachine Society, one of the first activist groups for the homosexual community. (It’s so hard to talk about this because the language they used to describe themselves then, we would take issue with but they would absolutely despise the word queer, which I wholeheartedly love).
As someone who is interested in law and government, I liked the framing of this book, although I wouldn’t recommend it to the beginner of queer history. The point of this book is to strictly focus on the law, and Frank is one vehicle to do that as a founder of the Mattachine Society and an early member of the NCACLU. But it is not an entire picture of the queer history: Frank’s focus was firmly focused on himself and his own goals: working for the government. Although he supported the civil rights movement, and learned lessons from the black activists who had more experience than him, the concept of queer people of color clearly eluded Frank.
This book is clearly meant to be a juxtaposition to the queer theory a lot of people are familiar with: the trans women of color who started the movement. Frank’s idea of changing the minds of the public was entirely different: he required dress codes and numbered their signs and they had to stand in order.
The few snippets of lesbian history are also a delight and I drank them up so readily. The book is written entirely from first person accounts, citing letters, legal documents, newspapers, and magazines. My absolute favorite part was reading Frank’s notes from when he represented 4 lesbian women suspected of being homosexuals from their WAC (military) superiors and they were able to keep their jobs.
I think this is an important book, but not for the baby gay historian. For someone who doesn’t know a lot, and I’ve seen in other reviews people complain about it’s focus on Frank as a white Jew, but I think the framing of this specific book as a history of the legal battles of the queer community is so important—but not even close to the whole picture, and as important as Frank’s work was, he wasn’t nearly as impactful as other historical figures. This book is such an invigorating mix of queer theory, civil rights, women’s rights and lesbian history, politics and space that I was enthralled for the entire book.
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storygraph | bookshop.org | local houston
★★★★★ would recommend for people interested in the subject, but not anyone new to queer history.