Michael Rumaker’s “A Day and a Night at the Baths” (The Baths) is an evocative narrative of a gay man’s first trip to the Everard Baths, a realm of, “grime and sweat and steam and chlorine,” on a cold winter day in the 1970s. The sweeping, poetic prose Rumaker employs throughout the piece echoes the courageous language of the then-nascent Gay Liberation movement. After all, this was the 1970s, when there were so few “unrestricted havens, no ports free of the contaminating fathers” for gay men to meet, get to know one another, and have carefree sex. “The heart’s desire and the awakener of the heart; the miracle of a barely imagined paradise, here in this dingy smelly place, heavy with stale body odors and decades-old perspiration of lust-sweat, and fear-sweat, and ashes of spermfire that encrust the walls and floors and ceilings from all the century-long years of those who have searched here in unspeakable pleasure and pain.”
Throughout The Baths, the narrator sought to chuck off almost all consigns of the vapid sense of socially-accepted beauty to embrace the uniqueness of our physiques. In the sauna, “here, we were our naked selves, anonymous, wearing only our bodies, with no other identity than our bare skins, without estrangements of class or money or position, or false distinctions of any kind, not even names if we chose none.” The book describes encounters with all different types of men, young, old, white, dark, beefy, thin — and those with a disability even — “even one struggling about the halls on aluminum crutches, his twisted legs strapped in metal braces” and discovers beauty, hope, and a sense of resilience in each and every framework of lives he encountered. “There is no end to desire.”
The version of The Baths I read included an Afterward penned by the author that was especially poignant to me. As someone born during the very winter of The Baths, I never knew the gay movement sans the cloak of AIDS.
“The queer spirit had a vital if hidden existence, surviving centuries of state and religious persecutions that sought to hobble and murder it—and that still do to this day.” By writing this review, I only hope to impart the notion that books like The Baths are important and need to be shared.