検索キーワード： 著者 "Jeremy Atherton Lin" すべてのカテゴリー

It’s 1996, and Jeremy has met the British boy of his dreams — just as, amid a media frenzy, US Congress prepares the Defense of Marriage Act, denying same-sex couples federal rights, including immigration. The pair snatch time in forests and deserts, London fashion shows, Berlin sex clubs and East Village hotel rooms. Finding no other way to stay together, they shack up illicitly among unlikely allies in San Francisco. Deep House moves through the couple’s domiciles while unlocking doors to a lineage of gay men who have come before.

In the era of Grindr and same-sex marriage, gay bars are closing down at an alarming rate. What, then, was the gay bar? Set between Los Angeles, San Francisco, and London, Gay Bar takes us on a time-traveling, transatlantic bar hop through pulsing nightclubs, after-work dives, hardcore leather bars, gay cafes, and saunas, asking what these places meant to their original clientele, what they meant to the author as a younger man, and what they mean now.

It’s 1996, and Jeremy Atherton Lin has met the boy of his dreams — a mumbling, starry-eyed Brit — just as, amid a media frenzy, US Congress prepares the Defense of Marriage Act, denying same-sex couples federal rights including immigration. The pair steals away to remote forests and vast deserts, London fashion shows and Berlin sex clubs, dinner parties, back alleys, East Village hotel rooms, and San Francisco dives. Finding no other way to stay together, they shack up illicitly among unlikely allies in a “city of refuge.”

Rifugio, palcoscenico, spazio di incontri, di solidarietà, di espressione sessuale: il bar gay è stato a lungo il luogo in cui una comunità priva di diritti e di rappresentazione, esclusa dal centro della scena e delle città, ha potuto riunirsi, sperimentare l’appartenenza, esistere davvero. Oggi, uno per uno, quei luoghi stanno scomparendo, chiusi oppure trasformati in qualcosa di più innocuo (e certo più commerciabile). Possiamo leggerlo come un buon segno, la dimostrazione che non c’è più ragione di nascondersi; ma, senza voler negare il valore di quello che abbiamo guadagnato, è possibile raccontare anche quello che stiamo perdendo?