Gay New York

[osprey_archer]

You guys! I’ve been reading a very interesting book for class! George Chauncey’s Gay New York: Gender, Urban Culture, and the Making of the Gay Male World, 1890 – 1940.

There are lots of solid academic reasons why this book is excellent – extensive research from a vast variety of sources! Eminently readable prose! Drag balls! – okay, that last may not be exactly academic – but of course mostly it makes me think of fic for Singin’ in the Rain (OT3 fic, obviously) and White Christmas.

Sadly the periodization doesn’t quite work for White Christmas fic, and it doesn’t work in a “after World War II the police started cracking down on public gay sociability in a big way, and there went the massive public drag balls” – seriously, guys, there were huge public drag balls in Harlem in the twenties. And Mae West wanted to bring a play to Broadway about how being gay was totally natural and normal and should not be punished! But was tragically prevented, because the anti-vice leagues were all “You just put on a play called Sex! Stop corrupting our youth!”

…Sorry, I’m getting distracted. (But this book, you guys! So much interesting material!)

Anyway, the history probably doesn’t make sense to have Bob and Phil get booked as a drag act for a gay nightclubish kind of place while they’re still struggling to break into the respectable joints. Obviously Phil would be the one who booked it, because Bob is the most inhibited person ever, and finds the whole idea alarming.

Bob: Phil. Phil. Do you know what kind of place this is?
Phil: An awesome, awesome place?
Bob: He’s from Sticksville. Clearly he’s never seen –

(See, this is one of the problems with writing this fic: Bob is clearly going to say something like “he’s never seen a fairy before,” which is period-appropriate but, well.)

Gay Nightclub Owner Who Is Wearing a Platinum Wig: I’m so glad you could make it! We love your chemistry!
Bob: PHIL WHAT HAVE YOU DONE. DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT WAVING YOUR WAR WOUND IN MY FACE TO EXCUSE THIS ONE.
Phil: (rubs wounded arm) Well, if you want to be turned out in the street because we can’t pay rent…

So! Cross-dressing! Phil, at least, is totally going to wear something spectacular and sequiny. (I bet they made Phil play all the girl’s parts in the company revues. Phil totally not-so-secretly enjoyed it.) They dance! Oh my god, I’m going to have to describe dancing! Eek!

Naturally Bob ends up tripping on his high heels and hits his head. Because all stories are better with head trauma!

And then he wakes up:

Soothing Doctor Voice: Don’t worry, your boyfriend is going to be fine.
Phil: OH THANK GOD.
Bob: Did the Germans bomb us again?
Phil: ….Fine, you say?
Soothing Doctor Voice: Don’t worry, a little confusion is normal.

Soothing Doctor moves into Bob’s line of sight. Bob sees that Soothing Doctor is also…Platinum Wig Man!

Bob’s tiny mind: *is blown*
Bob: But wait. If he has a normal voice, why does he insist on using the girly falsetto all the time?
Phil: …Because he wants to?
Bob: But why does he want to?
Phil: …Uh, because he does.
Bob: O.o
Bob: o.O
Bob: O.O
Phil: I don’t understand why you find this so confusing.
Bob: How did we so thoroughly fail to inculcate you into the values of the gender essentialist heteronormative hegemony? How did we fail?
Bob: Also, why did he call me you boyfriend?
Phil: Oh look, a vice raid! We’d better run for it!

Aaaaaaand CURTAIN.

Comments

[goldjadeocean.livejournal.com]

I think I saw an episode of Due South like that.

Ray: You know, Benny, you weren't a bad looking woman.
Fraser: Thank you, Ray.
Ray: You weren't exactly my type either.
Fraser: Well, what exactly is your type, Ray?
Ray: Oh, I like a woman who is kind and honest with a good sense of humor.
Fraser: Well, I don't have those qualities?
Ray: No, you do. I just like a woman who is, you know, a woman.
Fraser: Oh, that's picky, Ray.