Rushes

by John Rechy

"Set in a leather and western bar near a decaying waterfront, John Rechy's 'Rushes' is a bold and powerful journey into one side of the homosexual world. Over the course of a single evening, an extraordinary range of characters passes through the Rushes, creating an unforgettable mosaic of individuals and constructing an ephemeral community. The descent into the depths of a sexual world culminates with one of the most shattering experiences in recent fiction. Out of the lives he explores, Rechy distills a moving human experience that will leave few readers untouched" -- Page 4 of cover.

Genres: Gay, LGBT, Fiction, Gay Fiction, Queer, Historical, The United States Of America

224 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1981

About the author

John Rechy is an American author, the child of a Scottish father and a Mexican-American mother. In his novels he has written extensively about homosexual culture in Los Angeles and wider America, and is among the pioneers of modern LGBT literature. Drawing on his own background, he has also contributed to Chicano literature, especially with his novel The Miraculous Day of Amalia Gomez, which is taught in several Chicano literature courses in the United States. His work has often faced censorship due to its sexual content, particularly (but not solely) in the 1960s and 1970s, but books such as City of Night have been best sellers, and he has many literary admirers.

Reviews

[James · Rating 4 out of 5]

Set in one long night in a gay bar in 1970s California, John Rechy's "Rushes" explores the cruising scene of that era. Explicitly sexual, it conjures the internal lives of its characters, channeling how it feels to be on the "sexhunt" in a dim bar centered solely on that purpose.

We meet a core group of friends/competitors. Endore, the authorial stand-in, is older but still attractive, obviously drawn to the sex and scene of the Rushes but wary of it as well, ambivalent about its self-loathing and superficiality. Chas is an unapologetic leatherman, a top man into sadomasochism. Bill is a young beauty who, we later finds out, likes to dominate through submission. And Don is too old and unattractive to make the scene anymore, but he still gets in with his friends, tormenting himself with all the men he can't have.

The book takes us through a long night in the steamy bar, placing us in the mind of different characters as they reflect on the scene, their lust, their angst and limitations. The narrative can feel too internal at times, occasionally losing momentum as characters fixate on repeating themes and memories. Inciting incidents gradually introduce new complications, though. A woman ventures into the bar--a cruel, slumming, artistic fashion designer looking for stimulation. Two prostitutes find refuge there and are forced away. A young gay man enters on his first night out, and a self-loathing male prostitute outdoors rages against his clientele.

Throughout these scenes, Rechy shares what it's like to be on the hunt. His characters are constantly checking out one another, scrutinizing fresh faces that enter the bar, signaling to test connections but not committing for fear of being rejected and shamed. The docks are nearby, and meat trucks too, after-hours destinations for anonymous sex. Danger lurks as well, as gangs of gay bashers cruise the streets, looking to attack and even kill gay men. Some might even enter the bars themselves to lure their prey outside.

With "Rushes," Rechy seems to critique different movements in the gay scene at the time of publication. Endore seems skeptical of the leather fetishists and their associated humiliations, arguing that S&M is more an internalization of self-loathing than an embrace of gay men's outlaw status. But he's skeptical of monogamy among gay men too and criticizes the misogyny that erupts in their spaces, even as he admits he resents women venturing into the Rushes.

A successful lawyer but a failed cruiser, Don argues for the pre-Stonewall era as a more civilized time, the police raids balanced by better manners, a sense of class. But he's obviously crumbling, falling into drunkenness, loneliness, irrelevance.

Each character is a cautionary tale, and the Rushes itself isn't enticing. It's scuzzy and desperate. A late-night descent into the S&M club next door, the Rack, is even more hellish. But Rechy captures that each place is alive with something beautiful, something that can't be grasped by straight society. As Chas argues, "When you're still walking the piers, a faggot all alone looking for sex, and it's Sunday morning, you know you're alive, man. Alive. Because you know you've been through the greatest adventure."

The book itself attempts to weave that spell, to capture precisely the allure of the Rushes. In doing so, it conjures something almost like a bacchanalia, full of derangement and frenzy and even sacrifice. Endore and his crew seem both blessed and damned; Rechy does a great job sharing both aspects of their experience. From a historic standpoint, though, it's hard to finish the book and not shiver at what would be coming for these characters next, as the 80s dawned and the AIDS epidemic erupted. But that's not here. Not tonight.

< b>Quotes

"As often as he comes to the Rushes, Don still feels an outsider in it, and is. In the homosexual world of the bars there are avenging ghosts who refuse exorcism: the relentlessly effeminate among the relentlessly--even when unsuccessfully--macho men; the faded "beauties" changing into "queens" and clinging to shadows and the shadow of memories; and the older men--often near-alcoholics--who refuse to disappear from the sexual arenas or to surrender to the tight dinner groupings of men their age and older, gatherings brightened or rendered event more desolating by an occasional, quite often discreetly bought, "boy."

Don is one of the avengers.

***

"Have you chosen yet whom you will be pursued by, Endore?" Martin stabs.

Rage bursts. "When will you finally choose, Martin?"

"I choose not to choose," Martin answers. "There is no greater power over the beautiful than to withhold desire from them."

***

"Listen," Chas says passionately. "Listen. When you're still walking the piers, a faggot all alone looking for sex, and it's Sunday morning, you know you're alive, man. Alive. Because you know you've been through the greatest adventure. And you're alive. Still alive! Despite the punks and all the yells of 'Queer!" and all the raids--despite all their shit, the shit we live with, we're alive! That's the only victory we have, man, and that's what makes being a faggot special. That you can survive all that--for an excitement like no other, and you're always on the edge, and that's when you're most alive, when you know you're still alive, and tomorrow, too, because tomorrow it all starts again, our only continuity. That's the joy that only we faggots have. Because in between the busts and the headbashings and the screams for our blood--before whatever it is that finally takes us over--getting drunk or going crazy or, yeah, killing ourselves or just dying--we're alive, and they can't even feel, not even pain, but we do, pain and relief when it's over, and you call it S & M and that's ok. But we feel, and they're dead--having to come here to sniff at our world, breathe our sweat."

[Justin · Rating 2 out of 5]

New gooner challenge: take a hit of poppers every time Chas cracks an ampule or the author describes the “pervasive odor of amyl” in the club.

Fuck yeah, fry that brain, pig 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

There are moments this novel really shines, especially when Rechy depicts the cognitive dissonance between the characters’ internalized homophobia and their inherently queer desires. Though they idolize hyper-masculinity and abhor limp wrists (literally self-regulating how they carry drinks back from the bar), eventually someone has to bottom. The mental gymnastics it takes to reconcile any expression of f@gg0try (their word, don’t censor me!) is sad and infuriating. Of course despite the pervasive threat of homophobic violence, these men express near-similar levels of vitriol towards drag queens, fairies, & trans people (as well as any gay man who’s 40+ or paunchy).

Some of these issues have not changed much over the years...

But overall, especially for being set in a cruising bar, it was rather boring. Instead of just one or two characters being bitter and jaded, the overall tone was. Descriptions became redundant and the language was sometimes too grandstanding to be taken seriously. The sex was graphic but often with a repulsive or judgmental tone (especially regarding depictions of BDSM). Rechy certainly captured the desperation, sadness, and hypocrisy... But where was the joy? Where was the liberation?

[Nick Melloan-ruiz · Rating 5 out of 5]

Just four old queens chatting in a leather bar

[Joseph DeBrine · Rating 1 out of 5]

it's a bummer!!! it took reading another book to realize this REALLY didn't land for me. i guess, ethnographically, it's interesting to have a window into 70s gay life and compare it to my own similar experiences, and i have to bow a bit to rechy for walking so i could run when it comes to gay sex writing . . . i think it's supposed to be provocative or smutty and unfortch i just was not provoked or turned on :/

this was in my opinion something very superficial that at times nodded to interesting and unsavory dynamics in the gay community without meaningfully interrogating any of them. the hatred of femininity, in particular, is something you don't often see portrayed so openly — i think because we now understand that this is fucked up. the most interesting character is the 'old man' (40s), who exists as an unwanted pariah at this sex party. his alienation among all the naked bodies — seemingly mandatory in so many gay spaces — was maybe the only relatable experience in this story; he even mentions how his own people make him feel like an 'outsider' (another very relatable thing), but the book keeps him in his place as a bumbling jester on the margins.

the prose itself is prolly what makes it borderline unreadable tbh. i can see how maybe rechy was going for some kind of austere voice to contrast the raunchy content, but it just gives us dank, steaming piles of million dollar sentences.

also being completely honest that i, a years long insomniac, fell asleep MULTIPLE times reading this book.

still curious about him tho

[Katy]

As I read this on Tuesday and Wednesday, all I could think about was going to PAT Thursday. It was a really horny three days. I love how TV-like this book is, cutting between characters in a condensed time frame. My favorite Rechy thus far.

[OGEE Substack · Rating 3 out of 5]

I hated the name Endore. It sounded like a intergalactic jet that Han Solo would fly.

[Lance · Rating 5 out of 5]

A pornographic novel from the pornographic gay 70's

[Aaron Mcilhenny · Rating 5 out of 5]

Brutally good. Like Naked Lunch but more coherent and better

[Allen · Rating 1 out of 5]

I forgot how one-dimensional and over-written Rechy books can be. I waited for anything to transport me to the scene or draw me in whether it be a character or an event in this boring endless night of cruising a smoky gay sex bar in the 70s. City of Night has been his best book that I have read so far. Not going to finish this book, as nothing should be this boring 1/4 of the way through.

[Nathan Storey · Rating 4 out of 5]

“The men moved silently into the abandoned rooms…The water had an orange sheen…The men meld into one form…The bodies blur in fluid red”.

[Todd Evans · Rating 4 out of 5]

John Rechy’s Rushes is a literary novel about a kinky gay bar that sits in the bowels of a big American city. Outside, sex workers work their magic in empty semi-trucks and abandoned buildings while gay-bashers drive by and throw glass bottles. The setting growls alive with sexual primality and risk and draws in those who want to really rebel against the wider heteronormative buttoned-up culture.
An erotic pulse beats through the bar’s walls and through the bar-patrons’ veins. Inside, men wear construction hats and jeans. They are leathermen, motorcyclists, cowboys, lumberjacks, and men in uniform. They cruise. They have conservations about who should be allowed in when a woman who’s a wealthy socialite is granted entry and later a drag queen makes her way past security. The book mostly follows four friends, Endore, Chas, Bill, and Don, and their hunt for action. It culminates in a scene that ponders desire for rough sex and hard BDSM and how outside societal forces might influence that desire.
I was impressed with the overall writing of this book. It’s poetic and lyrical. Reading it, I was inside the world Rechy creates and me along with that world buzzed with erotic energy. It’s not an easy read though so best if savored and taken slowly. 9/10

[Joe · Rating 2 out of 5]

Rushes follows four friends at a meat packing district leather bar—that area of New York City in the 70s infamous for public gay sex in abandoned warehouses, empty meat trailers, and darkened doorways. They navigate the bar’s sexual landscape over a single Saturday evening while the threat of sexual violence inside and physical violence outside looms.

The friends are: Endore—a successful magazine columnist who comes to the Rushes to forget about dumping his ex after his ex says, “I love you”; Chas—a hot and hairy leather daddy hairdresser who comes to the Rushes to prove his masculinity and take out his frustration through the “sex hunt” of the bar; Bill—the drop-dead gorgeous man who comes to the Rushes to pick-up pretty much any guy he wants but still longs for his lover who left him; and Don–a bitter “queen” too plain and too “old” at forty who comes to the Rushes hoping this is the night he will take someone home.

Their evening is turned on end, altering the trajectory of their friendships, when several people arrive: Their above-it-all artist friend Martin slumming it with his fashion designer female friend Lyndy (whose presence is barely tolerated in the all-male bar); Robert, a hot first timer at the bar who Endore and Chas compete to pick-up; Roxy and Elaine, a transvestite and prostitute reluctantly allowed entry to escape the violence outside; and Michael, Endore’s ex who may or may not still love him. As Last Call approaches, before the harsh overhead lights of reality are turned on, the night comes to a dark head.

Two things irked me the most about the novel:

One–the terrible characters. Everyone, with the exception of Roxy and Elaine (who were the only redeemable characters) are all so awful to each other I’m hard pressed to believe they were actually friends and hard pressed to believe they would put up with each other’s pointed barbs and hateful retorts the way they did. If I were there, I would be done with all of them within the first ten minutes of hanging out. Friends don’t treat each other this way, or at least not the ones I have; and

Two–Rechy’s writing. Rechy’s dialogue is so wooden that I couldn’t buy half the things his characters were saying—awkward turns of phrase and stiff pronouncements that were cringe-y and unbelievable; and his descriptions are overwrought and flowery, full of groan worthy metaphors and eye rolling similes. Rechy is writing low-brow gay fiction but attempts to elevate it to high-brow literature and it fails more often than it succeeds. This made it difficult for me to engage myself in the story, but I can’t fully hold Rechy to blame. It seems like every gay writer from this period suffered the same affliction of grandeur in their writing. It is a part of the reason I have a difficult time reading gay “classics” from the 70s.

I first read Rushes 35 years ago as a horny teen looking for the sex parts (and I never forgot that bathtub scene *shudder*). Re-reading it now, as a middle-aged gay man, I found some of the observations within resonated strongly with me. That was an interesting takeaway but, in the end, I couldn’t wait for the night to be over so I could stop hanging out with these awful people.

[Mel Bossa · Rating 4 out of 5]

I decided to read this book after reading an in-dept interview with John Rechy over at one my favorite websites, the Lambda Literary. (interview here for those interested):

http://www.lambdaliterary.org/feature...)

In this interview, Rechy is so brilliantly eloquent and doesn't eat his words. He gives his opinion on everything from gay marriage and monogamy, to the still very controversial S and M practices.

Considering the man wrote the ALL TIME HUSTLER CLASSIC City of Night and lived through the many many changes in the "gay landscape"--the awakening of the sixties, the liberation of the seventies, followed by the terrible early eighties, and damage-control focused, fear induced nineties, he has a lot say.

Now today, he is 83 years old and can pretty much sit back and speak his mind about whatever the hell he wants. I have such respect for the man. He was always a bit of an outsider and never really made it into the "prestigious" circle of white gay male authors, such as Vidal, Edmund White, Andrew Holleran, etc. I like that about him.

And this book, Rushes (1979), though maybe a little "outdated", is a must read for anybody interested in sexuality and how we express it depending on who we are and what we've been through. I know the jacket description says it's about a leather bar and the people who frequent it, promising a sort of frenzied porno read, but it's so much more than that. And to those who accused Rechy of being a "sissy" hater and not respecting the "queens", I say, MAN DID YOU READ BETWEEN THE LINES? The only people he didn't cut down to size in this book, are the Drag Queen and the woman prostitute. He put everyone else under the gun.

Every character in this book represents a fraction of the pie. And the Rushes bar is so alive, like a beast threatening to swallow each one down. I loved the flash romance between Endore and Robert, and Michael, and how sad it was to see it always aborted out of fear and cynicism on Endore's part. I wanted them to find love, but I knew it wouldn't end like that. Chas was such an interesting, complex character. Every flashback he has reminds us of why he's the way he is, and that fear only begets more fear, which leads to hate, and in his case, self-hatred. Don was a sad character, probably the saddest of them all, but he was also the bravest in a way, because of he refusal to believe in this "unreal reality". His coming undone in the last part of the book really opened my eyes to a lot of deep issues about non hetero-normative life and sexual identity.

The end is like a jab in your gut. I won't give it away. But you've been warned.

There's no walking out into the sunset in this tale. Just a group of men being turned out into the daylight, after a night in the jungle. But what a night it was, and I'm glad I shared it when then, as graphic and hard to read as it was at times.

[Andy · Rating 3 out of 5]

Published during the advent of the Reagan Administration and the beginning of the AIDS epidemic, “Rushes” chronicles four different gay men cruising a rough trade bar in mad, mad, Manhattan.

While I was reading “Rushes” I found it somewhat ironic how incredibly testosterone fueled John Rechy’s notions of homosexuality are. There’s hardly any recognition of sissy marys, drag queens or transgenders at all, and if there are, there’s a bizarre contempt for them for their lack of macho gayness. In other words, even in Rechy’s gay world we’re in Burt Lancaster territory. And that’s why as a gay writer he’s always been the bridesmaid and not the bride.

[Stephen · Rating 2 out of 5]

Read at a time before I'd found any gay book stores, this book gave me a sometimes frightening, somethimes thrilling look into what I had known in my bones must exist somewhere, even if I'd imagined it a lot less dark.

[Huw Collingbourne · Rating 2 out of 5]

I couldn't finish it. Dull, over-written and struggling too hard to be 'literary'. Rechy is capable of wonderful writing - 'The Sexual Outlaw' and 'Numbers' are excellent. 'City Of Night' and several other novels are good too. I was hugely disappointed by this one though.

[Cherie · Rating 1 out of 5]

Eh….skimmed much of it, was not as engaging.