Posts tagged ‘young adult’

So Hard to Say, by Alex Sanchez (2004)

Frederick is new to San Cayetano Middle School, and he immediately catches the eye of Xio, the beautiful, vivacious member of the self-proclaimed “Las Sexy Seis” (the Sexy Six). Any number of boys would want to trade places with Frederick, so he can’t figure out why he doesn’t feel for Xio the same way she does for him. Xio takes Frederick’s ambivalence for shyness and does everything in her power to accomplish that all-important first kiss.

While Xio pines for Frederick, Frederick notices Victor, the friendly, affectionate jock who invites him to play soccer after school. He finds himself drawn to Victor, and even, at one confusing moment, imagining what it would feel like to kiss him. Then there’s Iggy, the dimpled enigma who endures endless teasing in the hallways. Victor and his friends taunt Iggy, calling him “maricón,” and the Sexies also talk about the rumor that Iggy is gay when Frederick sits with them at lunch:

“Here comes Iggy!” Nora interrupted.

I followed her gaze across the lunchroom to the Mexican boy I’d noticed in the hall my first day—the one who smiled like he knew me. Dimpled Guy.

“You mean icky,” Carmen murmured, making a sour face. “I think maricónes are so gross.”

“En serio?” María put down her yogurt. “You really think he’s gay?”

I recalled the boys picking on him, but I knew that calling someone gay didn’t mean they actually were gay. It was simply a put-down, like: “That’s so gay. He’s so gay. Those French fries are so gay.” Everyone said it all the time.

Sanchez (2004), p. 39

Even at this point, Frederick is far from going beyond the questions he has about himself to being able to conclude that he, himself, might be gay. The taunts are taken with a grain of salt, as Frederick observes, because it’s simply “a put-down”—nothing more. Yet, when Carmen asks him if he is gay one day at lunch, Frederick gets very defensive. Xio observes:

I’d never really seen him mad before, but I couldn’t blame him. Everyone knows calling someone gay is just about the worst thing you can say to them. And asking them if they’re gay is like telling them you think they are gay.

Sanchez (2004), p. 83

Once Carmen asks him if he’s gay (even though it’s meant more as a “put-down,” than a sincere, though prying question), Frederick begins to wonder. If Iggy is gay, how did he know? He begins to research on the Internet and finds a story of a basketball player who has come out to his school. “He didn’t look gay,” Frederick thinks. “I mean, he just looked normal.” And so begins his journey towards self-discovery. Towards the end of the novel, Frederick has made leaps and bounds, though he hasn’t yet come out to his parents. Even the students at San Cayetano become a little more aware that their words have power. Switching perspective between Frederick and Xio, Sanchez’s book is a sweet story of thirteen-year-old kids—both gay and straight—coming to understand themselves, at the beginning of their young-adult years.

Sanchez, A. (2004). So hard to say. New York: Simon & Schuster.

Lambda Literary Award 2004 Winner

What They Always Tell Us, by Martin Wilson (2008)

What They Always Tell Us is entitled based on the remark “Sticks and stones may break your bones, but words can never hurt you” and Alex remarks, “Yeah, that’s what they always tell us” (p. 70). Martin Wilson writes a story that appeals to older teens with siblings, or readers who may be facing the issues of sexuality or depression. It is ultimately a story of support between siblings in coming out.

The story is told with a quiet tone to mark the sadness and intensity of, and the contrast between, two brothers, James and Alex. The two brothers, growing up in Alabama, are night and day, James the extroverted high school senior, and Alex more withdrawn, introspective, and considerate. The brothers are initially close, but James begins to withdraw and avoid Alex after an incident at a party in which Alex drinks Pine-Sol in an apparent suicide attempt.

The undercurrent of the story revolves around Alex’s sexuality, which is indicated but not referred to directly at first, much like the subtly referenced gay longings of the character of Peter in William Sleator’s House of Stairs.

The first time the reader knows to whom Alex’s sexual attraction is directed is when Alex becomes very close with James’ friend Nathen. “Alex and Nathen are friends now, for sure. But it’s a different type of friendship. Or it feels like it is. It’s not like he and Nathen are hanging out drinking beers, or talking about girls, or even going to parties together” (p. 100). When the two are at the locker room of a sports club, Alex steals glances at Nathen’s body, while feeling insecure that he is not toned enough, his hips are too wide, and his butt is white and “too plump” (p. 105), all thoughts that are indicative of his sexual preference. This passage still leads one to wonder at times if he is merely idolizing Nathen, as Nathen is one consistent friend while others have stopped being Alex’s friends.

Alex and James’ parents regularly ask James if something is wrong with Alex or if it is just that “[m]aybe he’s going through the whole sullen teenager phase” (p. 31). When younger, Alex was able to maintain an affinity with his two friends Tyler and Kirk because neither of them had dated, either. This dynamic begins to unravel as the story progresses, and it intensifies his depression. Homosexuality is not overtly addressed at first. Alex does not want to go to church, and James does not attend any more either (p. 44).  Alex’s interest in Nathen is returned when Nathen seamlessly and naturally nudges him into the same shower stall at the sports club and they begin kissing (p. 122). In short order, they are dating, and the jock clique that James is a part of immediately begins to notice that there is something going on between Nathen and Alex.

While the story is written in third-person, the chapters alternate which brother the perspective focuses on. The alteration of focus indicates that the sexuality awareness affects more than just one person and has some bearing on the brothers’ relationship. What looms larger is the guilt that James feels for not being able to help Alex or make him happy. This guilt expresses itself by a feeling of hostility James develops towards Alex for not being “normal” (as in not depressed). James immediately suspects that something is going on between Alex and Nathen, and the text implies that he knows it is a relationship, but his real discomfort comes from Nathen’s ability to make Alex happy and lift him up when James could not. Even with this jealousy rising up in him, his love for his brother prevails, and he defends Nathen when there are allegations of Nathen being a “fag” (p. 177). Eventually, Alex comes out to James because he cannot hide some of the taunting going on at school. In spite of the taunting, Alex is happy in his relationship with Nathen. James tells him “I know you’re happy. An I’m glad. I mean it” while patting him on the shoulder, and James sobs with relief because he feels he has finally been a good brother (p. 240).

What They Always Tell Us has a somewhat atypical coming out backdrop because it is almost exclusively in the context of the brotherly relationship. While there is one passage that insinuates their mother knows Alex is gay, this area of exploration is not pursued, perhaps because this will happen after James leaves for university the following year. This story is one of absolute support. James is, in fact, only able to give full support to Alex once Alex puts all of his previous troubles in context by sharing who he is.

Wilson, M. (2008). What they always tell us. New York: Delacorte Press.

Reviews of What They Always Tell Us, from Martin Wilson Writes.

Someday This Pain Will Be Useful to You, by Peter Cameron (2007)

Someday This Pain Will Be Useful to You

In the 2007 YA novel Someday This Pain Will Be Useful to You, the story only once explicitly deals with internal sexuality confrontation. 18-year-old New Yorker James Sveck is asked by his father if he is gay early on in the story, but even though the story is told in first-person, the reader is not told whether this is the case until very late in the story. While the story does involve a “coming out,” this is largely a process that happens in James’ conscience, and while he does reveal to the readers that he is gay, those words are never uttered to his parents. This is a case of revelation without verbal expression.

James’ father, a high-strung, fastidious lawyer, confronts him about his sexuality in a way that is somewhat supportive, but more significantly stemming from the urge to be constructive and move forward. “It’s just that we’ve never talked about your sexuality, and if you are gay I want to be properly supportive. It’s fine with me if you’re gay, I just want to know,” (Cameron, 2007, p. 31) he emphatically states. However, as James resists his father’s inquiry with unrelated banter, his father’s compassion becomes more pronounced.

James, I’m just trying to be helpful. I’m just trying to be a good father. You don’t have to get hostile. I just thought you might be gay, and if you were, I wanted to let you know that’s fine, and help you in whatever way I could. (p. 32)

As James becomes unconsciously curious about his mother’s gay art gallery business assistant, John, he is compelled to go through his web history while working at the gallery. He stumbles on John’s relationship-seeking profile and writes him a fake ad according to what John’s perfect date would be. As this plan backfires, James’ mother is put in a tight spot when John is upset and initially wants to claim sexual harassment in the workplace. This forces James’ mother to deal with his sexuality, which has previously been avoided. We never know the full extent of her thoughts on his sexuality, but it can be presumed that as she has hired a gay assistant as her right-hand man, she has at least tacit tolerance. James largely dodges her question as to whether he is gay by asking her if she thinks “homosexuals need help.” She returns with a remark that implies support, though she is confounded, “James. Oh James! I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help you, and I want to help you, but I don’t know how” (p. 192).

While James’ mother cannot draw a verbal response from him that answers her question and satisfies her need to be helpful – a gesture of support – her delivery does help James. It is in his narration immediately thereafter that he reveals “I knew I was gay, but I had never done anything gay and I didn’t know if I ever world” (p. 192). Thus, there is a major hurdle jumped in that he is able to figure out what his desires and identity is to an extent, as a result of her confrontation.

Judging from these two scenes in the novel, readers can elicit that this is one case of support from both parents. One must consider that this is a work from the twenty-first century and set in New York, so the reactions may be skewed toward more tolerance than may be evidenced in previous works, or those set in more remote locations. This work is interesting in that it is mutually, universally understood that James is gay, and his posting to John confirms it, but it is never directly said, offering an interesting coming out and parental reaction scenario.

Cameron, P. (2007). Someday this pain will be useful to you. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux.