A book about the career and works of Russell T Davies is a solid project and this author brings some interesting perspectives, such as the way that Cucumber picked up the lives of the Queer as Folk generation. But this book, which appears to be published by an imprint of the University of Wales Press, sits uneasily between its academic pretensions and the world of politicised, campaigning fandom.
Much of the text revolves around an unarticulated and unexplained definition of queerness which appears to belong to a thankfully bygone world. The definition of queer here seems to include almost anything beyond Terry and June, whereas that never articulated ‘other’ appears to be an homogenous, homophobic mass. This, in my view, vastly underestimates the diversity of UK society in the 21st century and appears to suggest a monochrome, monolithic heterosexual and heteronormative culture which (as a gay man) I do not recognise. Where in 21st century Britain Garside has discovered the pearl clutchers to whom she all too regularly refers, or why she believes they may much matter, is rather beyond me. Gay sex, in this view, is a political act of rebellion - a perspective which I suspect many will also not recognise and may find offensive. But at quite a number of points, rather fanciful opinion is presented as if it were solid fact.
There is clearly much which one could criticise about Conservative governments and the Daily Mail (apparently a stand in for the UK popular press more generally) but Garside does this in a lazy, unreflective way. Conservative government = Section 28 = bad, in this account - with no reflection that the Conservatives also (eventually) legalised gay marriage, or that state-sponsored homophobia was as much a feature of Britain under bygone Labour governments.
On Section 28, Garside presents a view of a Britain in which young people had no opportunity to learn about gay identity - yet Section 28 was so limited in its application that it did not affect the media which increasingly presented gay lives and issues through these years. The UK was not on the same repressive road which Hungary finds itself now, notwithstanding the government’s efforts through the despicable Section 28. Similarly, Garside is wrong to suggest that Section 28 erased gay education from British schools - it had very largely not been there in the first place.
Had Garside focused primarily on analysis of the Davies texts, this might have been a rather better book as she does have some important things to say. However, the context is presented in a very limited and skewed way which overlooks some significant societal and media episodes. The sparse references make clear that this is a cobbled together affair. The author appears to have gone out of her way to avoid interviewing Davies himself so that some of the inferences and conclusions remain purely speculative.
The book is also poorly written in a number of passages, extremely repetitive, sometimes self-contradictory and in need of a decent copy editor, if only to deal with the rather extraordinary (for a reputable publisher) misuse of commas, which Garside repeatedly ‘leans into’, a much overused phrase in the book.
Overall, an opportunity lost. This is not a populist work and the ‘love letter’ to the works of Davies promised by the cover would have come across far better without the attempt to suggest a serious academic framework. As it is, the presentation as a serious work of analysis, rather than the campaigning polemic which this attempt perhaps seeks to mask, falls far short of a serious reader’s expectations.