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4.31 AVERAGE
4.31 AVERAGE
adventurous
challenging
dark
emotional
hopeful
informative
inspiring
sad
tense
medium-paced
challenging
emotional
hopeful
informative
inspiring
reflective
slow-paced
hopeful
informative
reflective
sad
slow-paced
Content Warnings
Graphic: Homophobia, Transphobia, Police brutality
I am reminded listening to this book that regarding policy, everything good in the world is the result of progressive activists. The journey from the 1950s to where we were in America in 2015 when this book was published was so frustrating to listen to. And heartbreaking, but also heartwarming. I cried for hours and from frustration, sadness, and joy.
This book does focus on the assimilationist drive—trying to include gay people in "straight" activities and benefits—and very little on queer policy. But just those inches are so hard fought and involved (this is a long ass book). And we need both, right? There is also a glaring focus on the most "palatable" mainstream demographics within the LGBTQ+ community. I would love an actual rainbow history of building the room for queer policies to expand our vision of the world. But that would need to be written by someone else probably.
So infuriating to watch conservatives start focusing on screwing over gay and trans people because they have nothing fucking better to do. And SO infuriating to watch as time after time, non-hegemonic groups spurn each other to scrabble for a leg up. We are stronger together. Women, black people, Hispanic and Latinx people, poor people, gay men, lesbians, trans people. We should all be helping each other. And fighting the military-industrial complex and the for-profit healthcare systems together. The moments where disparate groups came together to aid each other were so, so beautiful.
This book does focus on the assimilationist drive—trying to include gay people in "straight" activities and benefits—and very little on queer policy. But just those inches are so hard fought and involved (this is a long ass book). And we need both, right? There is also a glaring focus on the most "palatable" mainstream demographics within the LGBTQ+ community. I would love an actual rainbow history of building the room for queer policies to expand our vision of the world. But that would need to be written by someone else probably.
So infuriating to watch conservatives start focusing on screwing over gay and trans people because they have nothing fucking better to do. And SO infuriating to watch as time after time, non-hegemonic groups spurn each other to scrabble for a leg up. We are stronger together. Women, black people, Hispanic and Latinx people, poor people, gay men, lesbians, trans people. We should all be helping each other. And fighting the military-industrial complex and the for-profit healthcare systems together. The moments where disparate groups came together to aid each other were so, so beautiful.
emotional
hopeful
informative
inspiring
sad
medium-paced
The first thing I want to say about this book is how well-researched it is. This is as exhaustive an overview of the struggle for LGBT acceptance as you'll ever find. There are times when it is dry, but that's just because there's so much ground to cover. I don't think Faderman left any generally important area of the struggle unmentioned.
The second thing I want to say is that this book is a lot to absorb in the current climate. It ends, appropriately for the pre-Trump progressive era, with a hopeful coda from icon Frank Kameny that the movement started with nothing and ended up with greater acceptance than he could ever dream of. But all those struggles are almost certainly set to be unmade by the hateful dictator in office, and the endless crusade by far-right groups against the equality deemed necessary by the courts, the Constitution, and most certainly the credo of decency.
This was a great follow-up to When Brooklyn was Queer, which ended right before the Stonewall Riots. Faderman's tome details the early years, mostly in World War 2, so the prior book was a fantastic prelude to the history that this book didn't actually cover. That's because Faderman is more concerned with the fight as opposed to the stories of individuals finding themselves. These are the important players in the perpetual struggle against hatred, and all the personal stories she touches on are in reference to people with a specific tie to a part of the fight. In that vein, this book is quite focused despite its monstrous length. There is no doubt about Faderman's intentions in writing it.
I have a lot of thoughts that might be too deep and meditative to delve into here, since I think I'd rather reserve these reviews mostly for the books themselves and not my own musings about their contents, but I will say one thing - the lengths that people have to go to just to gain acceptance from literally anyone are insane. And it's a never-ending struggle. I think, cynically, that is partially why we are here now. There are myriad factors, to be sure, but this book ending with the Supreme Court's gay marriage decision reminded me that the gay marriage issue seemed at the time like a bookend to the overall struggle. I certainly felt that way, as though the left had won and the fight was over. If I thought that, I'm sure even the most impassioned activists felt similarly. And we all probably let our guard down. The curse of progress is that the struggle never ends, not even for a second. You have to fight to get something, and then you have to fight to keep it. Things seem hopeless now, and may remain hopeless for my life, but I have to imagine that the setbacks to come will be met with fierce opposition from people ready to fight again, and, hopefully, learn from the past that the fight can literally never end.
The second thing I want to say is that this book is a lot to absorb in the current climate. It ends, appropriately for the pre-Trump progressive era, with a hopeful coda from icon Frank Kameny that the movement started with nothing and ended up with greater acceptance than he could ever dream of. But all those struggles are almost certainly set to be unmade by the hateful dictator in office, and the endless crusade by far-right groups against the equality deemed necessary by the courts, the Constitution, and most certainly the credo of decency.
This was a great follow-up to When Brooklyn was Queer, which ended right before the Stonewall Riots. Faderman's tome details the early years, mostly in World War 2, so the prior book was a fantastic prelude to the history that this book didn't actually cover. That's because Faderman is more concerned with the fight as opposed to the stories of individuals finding themselves. These are the important players in the perpetual struggle against hatred, and all the personal stories she touches on are in reference to people with a specific tie to a part of the fight. In that vein, this book is quite focused despite its monstrous length. There is no doubt about Faderman's intentions in writing it.
I have a lot of thoughts that might be too deep and meditative to delve into here, since I think I'd rather reserve these reviews mostly for the books themselves and not my own musings about their contents, but I will say one thing - the lengths that people have to go to just to gain acceptance from literally anyone are insane. And it's a never-ending struggle. I think, cynically, that is partially why we are here now. There are myriad factors, to be sure, but this book ending with the Supreme Court's gay marriage decision reminded me that the gay marriage issue seemed at the time like a bookend to the overall struggle. I certainly felt that way, as though the left had won and the fight was over. If I thought that, I'm sure even the most impassioned activists felt similarly. And we all probably let our guard down. The curse of progress is that the struggle never ends, not even for a second. You have to fight to get something, and then you have to fight to keep it. Things seem hopeless now, and may remain hopeless for my life, but I have to imagine that the setbacks to come will be met with fierce opposition from people ready to fight again, and, hopefully, learn from the past that the fight can literally never end.
informative
reflective
slow-paced
This is a very comprehensive detailing of the gay rights movement in America. It was insanely readable and fascinating. IЃEЂЃEm really glad I read it and recommend it to anyone interested in the movement.
This is an excellent breakdown of the history of LGBT individuals, and their fight for equality and equity in the US. This should be required in the K-12 systems, as it is part of our nation’s history, and is critical information. I wish there had been a more in depth view of transgender history in the US, but this is a great base to start with in your journey to learn more about LBGT history.
The Gay Revolution is a great synapsis of what the LGBTQ community has fought and earned to obtain the freedoms and civil liberties as of today. An empowering book that identifies the struggles, blockades, and victories throughout the eras. It will leave the reader with a new appreciation of appreciation of ethical roots contrasted to the popular opinion.
I enjoyed " the gay revolution" for the historical significance. There have other LGBTQ books that have grabbed my attention and that i could relate to on a more personal level. Yet The gay revolution is a fundamental book, like any intro class, which may not be as riveting yet it lays the foundation for understanding the formation and strength of the LGBTQ community.
I enjoyed " the gay revolution" for the historical significance. There have other LGBTQ books that have grabbed my attention and that i could relate to on a more personal level. Yet The gay revolution is a fundamental book, like any intro class, which may not be as riveting yet it lays the foundation for understanding the formation and strength of the LGBTQ community.
hopeful
informative
inspiring
sad
slow-paced