Another book on marriage and queers… Why? And why now?
As to why now: It's not going away. Just last week, the California Supreme Court annulled Greg's and my marriage, along with 4,000 others that occurred here in San Francisco earlier this year; but the broader case of the constitutionality of California's voter-approved Prop 22 (which defines marriage--perhaps, you've heard this one before--as between a man and a woman) has only just begun to slouch its way toward the United States Supreme Court. (Don't hold your breath though; that final ruling could be over a decade away.) The Federal Marriage Amendment is either stillborn or cryogenically frozen (depending on whichever conspiracy theory shapes your worldview); but, as in every harrowing horror movie, the creature always returns. And the queering of marriage may not be the wicked wedge issue of this election, especially now that Kerry and Bush are focused on the war…in Vietnam; but states will continue to amend their constitutions, politicians will continue to make hay, and televangelists will continue to make bucks--millions of them--fending off the raiding bridal parties of Adam and Steve, Lilith and Eve.
So, why another book on marriage and queers? It's certainly not because there aren't enough of them on the shelves in 2004, and some excellent ones, too. In fact, three of the authors included in I Do/I Don't have books you may have read or may like to read (that's politespeak for should read): Davina Kotulski's Why You Should Give a Damn about Gay Marriage; Jonathan Rauch's Gay Marriage: Why It Is Good for Gays, Good for Straights, and Good for America; and Evan Wolfson's Why Marriage Matters: America, Equality, and Gay People's Right to Marry. (For rock-'em-sock-'em "I Don't" books, these two are must-reads: That's Revolting! Queer Strategies for Resisting Assimilation edited by Mattilda a.k.a Matt Bernstein Sycamore; and Unmarried to Each Other: The Essential Guide to Living as an Unmarried Couple by Marshall Miller and Dorian Solot.) And it's not, as much as I'd like to say otherwise, that our collection of pro and con opinions on the issue of same-sex marriage is unique. Andrew Sullivan long ago beat us to that punch with his Same-Sex Marriage: Pro and Con, recently revised and reissued. Though there are big differences between the two. For example, you won't find Leviticus or Charles Krauthammer here.
Then why this particular book? That's easy. Talking points.
Not long after Greg and I left City Hall's rotunda as spouses for life, we started to get all manner of mail, e- and otherwise. (Not surprisingly in our everything's-for-sale world, the city had sold the mailing lists of the queerlyweds.) One of those emails asked us to come to the San Francisco Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Center to learn from one of the national organizations about how to address the media. We would be "given" talking points to help us answer questions from friends and foe (and/or family) alike. And with those words, talking points, the imp of the perverse that sublets a part of my soul began to stir.
Now, I understand why some people, some groups would want to use talking points. They can be very effective in providing the appearance of a united, unstoppable front. Especially in the hands of the spinmeisters of the damned. Why if you watch enough TV, you'd never think the grandees of the Grand Old Party or the religious right ever disagree about anything. Onward Christian soliders, indeed. Further, since 9/11, the ministers of misinformation have been very successful at equating unity with strength and diversity (of opinion and pigment and sex chromosomes, etc.) with a ragtag rabble on the run.
And so I get how talking points are tempting, especially for the ever-ostracized. Goddess knows ideologues of all sides and stripes have bandied and bashed them about the heads of others for centuries. But if someone shoves something phallic and electrified in my face and shouts a question at me, I'm going to answer it, for better or worse, from the heart, even a rapidly beating one. So, I deleted the email.
But the imp within didn't forget, and finally, he got his message across. Four months ago, he wrote out the title of this book on a napkin and pushed it across the table to Greg during our Saturday-morning out-on-the-town publishers' pancake breakfast.
My imp of the perverse had heard his fill of the opinions of the talking heterosexual heads on TV. It was time to hear from those who they and their talking points were talking, and more likely, shouting, over: Queers.
And my oh my, do we have a lot to say on queers marrying queers.
Then again, I'm not surprised. Though we know a thing or two about silence, especially being silenced, if you fill a room with any number of lesbians, gay, bisexuals, transgenders, transsexuals, genderqueers, intersexed, you'll see we're far from a quiet folk. (Thank the Goddess!) Especially on an issue that is the equivalent of a flaming toaster hurled into the bathtub of the collective consciousness: queer marriage.
And oh how the tub boils and bubbles through the three hundred and eighty-some pages to follow. In fact, you, patient reader, must be tired of this foreword now and ready for some forewarning as you prepare to dip your toe in.
So, now seems as good a time as any to explain how this collection of "I Do"s, "I Don't"s, and "I Differ"s is organized. It's rather simple. It's alphabetical. Because just like queers, not every piece fits neatly in its category. And not all of these are essays even. The poems are easy to spot. But there's fiction, too. And vows and rants. Even some deconstruction and some mighty fine journalism.
And I definitely tried, like a rather nelly Noah, to make sure we had one of…every possible opinion and life experience. We asked over 400 people and received 175 pieces that became the 132 collected here. Some turned us down because they were too busy (we so understand), felt they didn't have anything to say that hadn't been said (fair enough), balked at the use of the word queer (we're San Franciscans and there is no other word that comes close to even attempting to include all the tribes here), and some were insulted by the fee we offered (it's wee as fees go, but most of the fees along with a percentage of the sales are being donated to five amazing groups: the ACLU, the Alternatives to Marriage Project, Freedom to Marry, the International Gay and Lesbian Human Rights Commission, and the National Center for Lesbian Rights). Fortunately, Greg was the ballast and kept Nelly Noah in check by reminding him that this book of a boat could only reach 384 pages without sinking.
But that's the last thing this book does: sink.
Thanks, Greg!
Speaking of Mr. Wharton, where is your husband in all this? you might ask. Doesn't he get to speak for himself? Trust me, if we'd had more room on this ark we would have kept our separate pieces along with an afterword by Mr. Wharton. Instead, like all good marriages, we compromised: I got to write the foreword and he got to have the photospread in Unzipped magazine.
Wait a minute, Mary! I know some of you want to shout. You led us through the whole foreword--from its Mary Daly-wannabe use of "foreword/forewarning" to its Judy Garland in A Star Is Born turn with the "I am Mrs. Gregory Mead Wharton" byline--with no plans of giving your personal opinion?!
Marriage. Is it for every queer? No. I'm pretty puritanical myself on the sacredness of a freely willed choice. Is it the mother of LGBTIQ struggles? No. Not if it leaves out those who don't marry. I especially disagree with the dictum that same-sex marriage is the end of gay liberation and the beginning of gay responsibility. I fear some within our community want to turn marriage into the latest great divide. The way to separate the normals from the freaks. The conservatives from the radicals. The God-fearing from the Goddess-worshiping. The plain joes and janes from the fairies and leatherettes. The merry monogamouses from the sacred sluts. The gay and lesbians from the bisexuals, transgendered, intersexed. The same mindset that is keeping everyone but those in Massachusetts from having the choice to marry.
Trust me, I may no longer be married in the Golden State of California, but I will always be a freak--a loud and proud one--wherever I go in this country. And if any of us queers aren't fighting to liberate all of us so we can each live a life of quiet or flamboyant dignity, how can we dare to call ourselves responsible. To put some oomph in some rather empty government rhetoric of late: No queer must be left behind. And I can think of no better way than by putting into nationwide practice many of the ideas mentioned in the pieces to follow about how we can make marriage one of many legal choices for affirming and enjoying our inalienable rights as well as honoring how and with whom we create our relationships. Queer and nonqueer alike.
August 2004
San Francisco, CA
And Now, Some Cake and Acknowledgments
First, Greg and I cannot thank each of the contributors enough for their great pieces and their great goodwill. Never have so many brilliant divas in such cramped quarters and under such tight time constraints caused so little fuss and created so much charity and clarity!
A special thank you goes to the never-praised-enough secret weapon of Suspect Thoughts Press: Shane Luitjens of Torquere Creative. He's designed every cover but one--and this one takes the cake!
Many thanks to the following fiercesome angels of literary heaven for helping us seek out many of the contributors: Toni Amato, Patrick Califia, Greg Constante, Heather Findlay, Abe Garland, Gina Gatta, Greg Herren, Krandall Kraus, Richard Labonté, Jeff Mann, Mattilda, Marshall Miller and Dorian Solot, Jonathan Rauch and the Independent Gay Forum, Tristan Taormino, Michelle Tea, Don Weise, and last, but never least, Paul Willis.
And Triple-Goddess-triple-crowns to Dodie Bellamy, Michele Karlsberg, Cheryl Rosenthal, and Jim Van Buskirk for using their supernetworker powers and bringing us a writers' colony apiece of amazing writers and poets.
And finally, my most heartfelt thanks and abiding love to Greg Wharton, who makes this press a dream come true for me and many other misfit authors.
I do, until the last book, the last scrap of paper and ink, burns away.
Ian Philips is the editor in chief (and mama bear) of Suspect Thoughts Press. He is also the author of two collections of literotica: Satyriasis and the Lambda Literary Award–winning See Dick Deconstruct. On February 19, 2004, he married heartthrob author-publisher Greg Wharton in San Francisco’s City Hall. On August 12, 2004, the California State Supreme Court annulled their marriage. He is uncertain whether this annulment, like Henry VIII’s in days of old, means he is also a virgin once more. He’s having a hard time distinguishing, let alone separating, church from state these days.
Greg Wharton is the publisher of Suspect Thoughts Press. He the author of the collection Johnny Was & Other Tall Tales and the editor of numerous other anthologies including the Lambda Literary Award Finalist The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name: Essays on Queer Desire and Sexuality. He lives in San Francisco with his brilliant and sexy husband Ian Philips, a cat named Chloe, and a lot of books.
