{"id":153252,"date":"2021-06-25T14:06:48","date_gmt":"2021-06-25T18:06:48","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=153252"},"modified":"2021-06-25T14:35:27","modified_gmt":"2021-06-25T18:35:27","slug":"the-list-as-body-a-collection-of-queer-writing-from-the-paris-review","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2021\/06\/25\/the-list-as-body-a-collection-of-queer-writing-from-the-paris-review\/","title":{"rendered":"The List as Body: A Collection of Queer Writing from The Paris Review<\/em>"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"\"<\/a>

Photo: Charlotte Brooks. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.<\/p><\/div>\n

RL Goldberg\u2019s 2018 essay \u201cToward Creating a Trans Literary Canon<\/a>\u201d offers up a list of phenomenal trans writing: Eli Clare\u2019s Exile and Pride<\/em>, a truly life-changing book; Leslie Feinberg\u2019s utterly devastating Stone Butch Blues<\/em>; and one of my all-time favorite pieces of writing, Andrea Lawlor\u2019s Paul Takes the Form of a Mortal Girl<\/em>. But it is Goldberg\u2019s explanation of the ethos behind the list to which I keep returning: \u201cIt\u2019s not a canon exactly, but a corpus. It\u2019s something more like a body: mutable, evolving, flexible, open, exposed, exposing. It\u2019s the opposite of erasure; it\u2019s an inscription.\u201d To celebrate Pride in my capacity as intern here at The Paris Review<\/em>, I\u2019ve been reading works by the queer authors in the latest issues of the magazine. The archive contains a myriad of fantastic queer writers, but I wanted to recognize some of our contemporary contributors, folks whose work has appeared in our most recent pages. As I read, I thought a lot about Goldberg\u2019s notion of inscription and the list as body: mutable, evolving, flexible. What resulted is a corpus nowhere near complete, final, or comprehensive\u2014and I don\u2019t want it to be. Rather, it\u2019s meant to pay tribute to the diversity of art created by our queer contributors, each of them offering something distinct to readers of the Review<\/em>. Some of the work is about sexuality, some of it is about sex, and some of it is about war, about gender, about eggs in a hot pan.<\/p>\n

Many of these writers hold identity at the center of their work; the particularities of each piece demonstrate the various (and incredibly individual) meanings of \u201cidentity\u201d itself. Lydia Conklin\u2019s \u201cRainbow Rainbow<\/a>,\u201d a coming-of-age story published in the Summer 2021 issue, depicts two queer suburban teenage girls, one out and one coming to terms with her burgeoning sexuality, as they venture to Boston to meet an internet crush. In \u201cToken<\/a>,\u201d Jericho Brown ruminates on the privilege inherent in invisibility:<\/p>\n

\u2026 I want the scandal
\nIn my bedroom but not in the mouths of convenience-
\nStore customers off the nearest highway. Let me be
\nAnother invisible,
\nUsed and forgotten and left
\nTo whatever narrow miseries I make for myself
\nWithout anybody asking,
\nWhat\u2019s wrong.\u00a0 \u2026<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

<\/p>\n

Similar to \u201cRainbow Rainbow,\u201d Brown\u2019s poem sees the city as a haven. For the girls in Conklin\u2019s story, Boston offers the possibility of a different life; in \u201cToken,\u201d the city offers the space for community. The narrator of the late Anthony Veasna So\u2019s \u201cMaly, Maly, Maly<\/a>\u201d is ready to flee G Block, the \u201casshole of California,\u201d for the promise of a four-year college in Los Angeles. \u201cAn hour ago we became outcasts,\u201d So writes:<\/p>\n

One of us\u2014not me\u2014would not shut the fuck up. And since the grandmas are prepping for the monks and need to focus, we\u2019ve been banished outside to choke on traces of manure blown in from the asparagus farms surrounding us, our hometown, this shitty place of boring dudes always pissing green stink.<\/p>\n

And according to the Mas, everything about us appears at once too masculine and too feminine: our posture\u2014backs arching like the models in the magazines we steal; our clothes\u2014the rips, studs, and jagged edges\u2014none of it makes sense to them. The two of us are wrong in every direction. Though Maly, the girl cousin, strikes them as less wrong than the boy cousin, me.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

So\u2019s story deals deeply with family, its restrictions and its promise. Ocean Vuong\u2019s \u201cRise & Shine<\/a>,\u201d a seriously sensual and cinematic poem, takes up the identity of being someone\u2019s son, and what is passed from parent to child.<\/p>\n

Melissa Febos and Danez Smith both hold a single word at the center of their pieces in the Review<\/em>. In \u201cThe Mirror Test<\/a>,\u201d Febos delves into the linguistic history of the word slut<\/em> along with her own adolescent experience of sexuality and gender. I think you can guess the focal point of Smith\u2019s \u201cmy bitch!<\/a>\u201d:<\/p>\n

o bitch. my good bitch. bitch my heart.
\ndream bitch. bitch my salve. bitch my order.
\nbitch my willowed stream. bitch my legend.
\nbitch like a door. your name means open
\n<\/em>in the language of my getting by. bitch sesame.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

In Garth Greenwell\u2019s \u201cGospodar<\/a>,\u201d the Bulgarian word for \u201cbitch,\u201d kuchko<\/em>, gets at the core of the narrator\u2019s pleasure in his BDSM encounter with another man. Greenwell\u2019s story is truly one of the best explorations of pleasure and consent in kink I have ever read.<\/p>\n

Alex Dimitrov\u2019s \u201cImpermanence<\/a>\u201d wants, wants, and then wants some more. \u201cAmid Tensions on the Korean Peninsula<\/a>,\u201d Franny Choi\u2019s poem about war, survival, and collective memory, is nothing short of a formal marvel. Eileen Myles is having the time of their life in \u201cTo Love<\/a>.\u201d Eloghosa Osunde\u2019s \u201cGood Boy<\/a>,\u201d for which she received the 2021 Plimpton Prize, completely altered my understanding of what fiction can do. Take the opening as case in point:<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve always had a problem with introductions. To me, they don\u2019t matter. It\u2019s either you know me or you don\u2019t\u2014you get? If you don\u2019t, the main thing you need to know is that I am a hustler through and through. I\u2019m that guy that gets shit done. Simple. Kick me out of the house at fifteen\u2014a barged-in-on secret behind me, a heartbreak falling into my shin as I walk\u2014and watch me grow some real useful muscles. Watch me learn how to play all the necessary games, good and ungood; watch me learn how to notice red eyes, how to figure out when to squat and bite the road\u2019s shoulder with all my might. Watch me learn why a good knife (and not just any type of good, but the moral-less kind, the fatherlike kind) is necessary when you\u2019re sleeping under a bridge. Just a week after that, watch me swear on my own destiny and insist to the God who made me that I\u2019m bigger than that lesson now; then watch my ori align. Watch me walk from that cursed bridge a free man and learn how to really make money between age damaged and age twenty-two; watch me pay the streets what I owe in blood and notes (up front, no installments); watch me never lack where to sleep again.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The story blows my mind each and every time I return to it.<\/p>\n

Over on the Daily<\/em>, Bryan Washington writes about his experience at New Orleans Pride and other events across the South in \u201cProud, Prouder, Proudest<\/a>.\u201d Yelena Moskovich discusses her search for a lesbian canon<\/a>, and Matthew H. Birkhold examines The Third Sex<\/em><\/a>, <\/em>a little-known German publication that was most likely the first magazine to focus on trans issues.<\/p>\n

This many-limbed corpus is strikingly diverse\u2014in fact, \u201cqueer writers\u201d proves to be a relatively loose unifying factor when the work itself is held up side by side. Although I wrote this for Pride, I truly believe that it\u2019s vital to read queer literature not just during June, but every month of the year. This weekend, in celebration of New York City Pride, check out the above works in the Review<\/em>, along with Lou Sullivan\u2019s diaries<\/a>, Sarah Schulman\u2019s new book on the political history of ACT UP<\/small> New York<\/a>, and Fred W. McDarrah\u2019s reissued Pride: Photographs after Stonewall<\/em><\/a>. Go from there. Happy Pride.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Mira Braneck is a writer from New Jersey.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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