Opinions Without End

Recently I was part of a conversation about novels written by straight people that were about gay relationships. I kind of bristled at the idea. There's a well-reviewed book that I cited - Days Without End, by Sebastian Barry - about two men who fall in love during the American Civil War. Barry is straight. That's great - most people are. And, the writing of his novel came from a good place - he was moved by his son coming out. Awesome. Based upon that, and the high praise the novel has received, I went to a local bookstore and purchased it. That was about five years ago.

And it's sat on my shelf ever since.

I probably shouldn't have an issue with someone of one sexuality writing stories about people of another. After all, my favorite genre of literature is mystery, and so many of those stories aren't written by detectives. It is also true that, during the days before same-sex marriage was legalized in the U.S., one of the core arguments I used to hold forth about was how love is love, no matter the gender. Sure, the equipment may be different, but whether it's two men, or two women, or a woman and a man, love is often the same, in all its permutations.

So why the uncomfortableness when it comes to a heterosexual author crossing the bridge to write prose about homosexual relationships? Love is love, right? Yes... and no. While the emotions may be universal, the experiences are not. To grow up LGBTQ is to know a different life than someone who grew up straight. And, while not every gay person's experience is the same, there are often enough commonalities that we can relate on a certain level. We know the uncertainty of discovering who we are, the fear of how we will be viewed and of how we will be treated, the sorrow of being rejected by family, or the elation of being accepted when we come out. Those are things a straight person just can't know. As LGBTQ people, we feel these things in our bones.

And yet...

After the aforementioned conversation, I began to doubt my convictions. The whole thing reminded me of another issue I see debated online amongst film fans. Namely, should the television and film roles of gays, lesbians and transgender people only be played by actors who, in real life, also belong to those communities? I have staunchly been against such an idea. What is acting, if not inhabiting the role of someone whom the performer is not? Actors have to convincingly convey the thoughts, emotions and appearance of various people, either real or fictional. And, while we've (thankfully) moved beyond the days of Al Jolson, Alec Guinness and Mickey Rooney donning make-up to play other ethnicities, there is still something to be said for the talent to portray various personalities and, yes, sexualities during one's career.

Also, I am a believer that we really shouldn't know about the personal lives of actors, directors, influencers, etc. Granted, that may reduce their celebrity status somewhat but, really, their lives are their own. And, I am the first to admit to wondering about what certain famous people get up to, however, curiosity is not an excuse. It shouldn't matter if it's a straight actor playing a gay role, because we have no business knowing what that thespian's sexuality even is. What if an actor isn't sure, themselves, about their sexual preference? Perhaps they're still figuring it out? Holding a cultural, social media tribunal to determine if an actor's authenticity is legit, based upon who they love, or sleep with on their own time, is prurience to a distasteful degree.

I guess we can add writers to this line of thinking? That's what I'm coming up with, after tossing it around in my head for a bit, and writing about it here. Is it our business what an author's sexuality is? I mean, I know we've made this kind of thing our business over the years, but is it really? It would seem hard put to say yes to that. And, writers (the thorough ones, anyway) often do research for their work. There may be variations of love, but it's possible for all of them to be experience by people who have feelings for those of both the same and opposite sex. So, yeah, it probably shouldn't matter what an author's sexuality is, only if what they write is worth reading.

Guess I'd better get Days Without End off the shelf now.