A gay ghost, a talking dog, and a street kid who thinks he's an elf-child join our narrator Bud, best friend Dennis Savage, eternally young Little Kiwi, devastating hunk Carlo, and the other characters from I've a Feeling We're Not in Kansas Anymore and Buddies in this final volume in Mordden's trilogy on gay life in the big city.
And there's trouble in paradise: Dennis Savage is suffering midlife crisisl; his lover little Kiwi who uses sex as a weapon, threatens to tear apart the delicate fabric of this gay family of buddies, lovers, and brothers and the AIDS crisis may bring an end to this whole world.
I suspect this doesn't play particularly well outside its target audience, but Mordden truly captures the merry-go-round of a very specific stratum of urban gay life—its rhythms, tensions, absurdities, intimacies, affectations, conflicts, and messy romantic entanglements—with a precision, and perhaps even more importantly, a generosity, that I've yet to encounter in another writer. To be quite honest, its insularity is a great part of the appeal. Thirty years on the specific settings and cultural references have inevitably changed, but so much else hasn't; I find so much of my friends and I in these stories.
I learn so much about myself and men but especially about all the buddies I’ve ever had after finishing just one of Mordden’s linked stories. Every time I just sit back and wish I could go back in time like Bill & Ted and just live with these guys for awhile and yknow.. do whatever else guys do together. Even with “the plague” now looming over these buddies lives, this is still a fascinatingly gay time I would return to.
The characters in these linked stories most often feel like caricatures rather than real people. Every now and then however the pieces come together and achieves sometimes larger than the sum of its parts— "The Dinner Party," for example.
One of the most puzzling characters is little Kiwi. He comes into his own here, but at this point he is 27 or 28. His friend/companion, Dennis Savage, is a teacher. Didn't Virgil (Kiwi) ever go to school during these years (his age 19 onward)? His simplicity and child-like nature is an example of these pieces at their worst, being cartoons.
However, if one reads this collection with a certain lightheartedness, with a certain tendency to forgive friends for being who they are, there is a predictable enjoyment here.
This was at the time of its publication in 1988, announced as the final book in the 'Buddies' cycle and it is apparent to me that the three volumes (this one and 'I Don't Believe We are in Kansas Anymore', 1985; and 'Buddies', 1986) are compilations of articles repackaged into 'novels' in an attempt to mimic the success of Armistead Maupin's 'Tales from the City' novels although such comparisons only highlight the weaknesses of Mordden's work. So let me be clear the 'Buddies' cycle is not a New York version of 'Tales from the City'.
But before I say any more negative things, I want to praise an exceptionally fine, if flawed story in this collection and the only reason I have given three stars to the book. The story, 'The Dinner Party', is not simply a story about AIDS but a cri de coeur from the inside of the AIDS nightmare. It reminds me that Mordden could write exceptionally well and this story just falls short of being a masterpiece.
Unfortunately the story suffers from two problems. First Mordden's parochial view of what being 'gay' means. You could say he is a New York writer and his tales are New York ones but even within the confines of a 'New York' his stories seem disconnected from anything beyond his 53rd street building and neighborhood. I never felt this parochialism in the New York novels of Edmund White and Andrew Holleran for example. This is not the New York of Paul Russell's 'The Boys of Life' never mind David Wojnarowicz's 'Waterfront Journals'. But the biggest problem with the whole series is the essential vacuity of 'Bud' the narrator and Mordden's alter ego (don't imagine I am confusing author with character, in the stories he makes clear that Bud's real name is Ethan - he is announcing that he is Bud). Bud is so disengaged from what goes on that he might almost be a part of the décor, an inanimate object. Most of the characters in all the three collections are little more then ciphers, clichés, or cartoons and, to be fair to Mordden, he treats himself to no greater depth. But in 'The Dinner Party' when one of his characters, Cliff, stands up and refuses, in the words of Dylan Thomas, to:
"...go gentle into that good night Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light..."
and upsets a soigné Pines dinner party by attacking a fatuous rich, closeted gay Soho gallery owner for defending Roy Cohen you wonder what this passion/commitment/life has to do with Bud/Mordden and his icy detachment from almost everything, though it is a pleasant change from it.
I also have deep problems with the Virgil Brown/Little Kiwi character, who has been with Morrden's neighbour and best friend Denis Savage since he was 20 and in this volume is now 29. Little Kiwi has made sporadic appearances throughout all three collections and is presented as the child of Bud's family. The problem is that Virgil behaves like an adolescent and not very mature 14/15 year old throughout the series. In the final stories in 'Everyone Loves You' he is presented as starting to grow up - but he is nearly 30 and has spent nearly ten years as Denis Savage's 'house boy' - if he was a female character he would be presented as being kept barefoot and pregnant to satisfy a patriarchal male - ten years in NY and Virgil is only starting to embark on the sort of work of the minimum wage, part time clerical work and growing up that Bud and Dennis did after leaving college and moving to NY.
Virgil's character reflects a very unattractive economic/class blindness in all these stories - their are characters like Bud, Dennis Savage and their coevals, university men, fraternity men, men with careers not jobs, who have economic power and the trappings that go with it (and also come from backgrounds and families that are definitely upper middle class in income if not quite haut bourgeois) and then there are the men/boys/hustlers who provide the pretty backdrop to their world. In one story Bud is nearly mugged by a man he knew as one of the hottest things on the Pines circuit who has been dumped by the rich men he used to cater for and the only response Bud has is to try and fix him up with another rich man. It is not that Mordden does not recognise that some gays can be less than admirable or likeable but he fails to see that there might be a systemic cause to the exploitation he occasionally, very occasionally, decries.
As the series didn't end with this volume but spawned two proper novels I will save further comments for future reviews.
I first read this when I was a sophomore in college and -finally- seeking out gay authors. I was looking for support, understanding - role models, even. What I found here was not welcoming: a cast of brittle bitches, all self-absorption and bitter judgement. They lay claims to friendship and fellow feeling (pun intended) but they actually hate each other because they hate themselves. And apparently they fetishize every sexual encounter. There are many, many references to Opera, The Pines, and Porn.
I hated it, and it made me worry about what kind of people I was going to meet in my just-around-the-corner coming out.
But these many years later, I thought it might be worth a second look. I'm not as young as I once was, so I thought the concerns of the characters might resonate with me more. And I don't need role models anymore, either. If nothing else, I thought it would be a glimpse of that generation just before mine, who lost so many to AIDS.
I think I disliked Everybody Loves You even more clearly this time through. The characters are thoroughly horrible elitists, and although I suppose I did get a little insight into a chapter of Gay Life Past, it's a very narrow slice of experience that's depicted here. The life of the "A Gay." Who called them the "A Gays," you might ask? They called themselves that, of course.
Two stars only because I thought the first story was actually quite good.
(Side rant for anyone who has read the book: Seriously, what's up with Little Kiwi? Sometimes I'm guilty of reading too literally - is he supposed to be a joke? Because the others do seem like realistic, if jaundiced, versions of real people.)
A clear example that Ethan Mordden's ability to communicate the emotional experience of being gay in the 20th Century, "Everybody Loves You," the third book in his "Buddies" series left me crying in full tears no less than a half dozen times.
Again recollecting the stories of Bud's gay family in New York, this book delves deeper into the soul of being gay, confronting the fears of aging, of falling out of love, and of growing up in a world where being gay was still not defined. Confronting the problems of the"breeders" and the needs in the gay community for fathers, friends, buddies, and lovers, Mordden tackles head on the soul-wrenching realities of being gay that so many of us bury deep beneath our sex lives and camp.
To get the full connection with this book you must read it third, just as it was written, but when and if you do, the movement you feel will truly leave you changed.
once again, read this back in the late 80's in my early bookstore days.this one got a bit too-too for me. kind of an adult, gay male version of some of the more twee aspects of Francesca Lia Block's works. Whereas Buddies could be read and enjoyed by most open-minded audiences, gay or straight, this one was a bit too insular in tone.
Like the previous books in the series, this book has two stories/chapters that I particularly enjoy and read on their own over and over: "The Handshake Deal" and "Do-It-Yourself S & M". Unlike the prior books, this one has much more of a continuous through storyline along with a lot more actual involvement of "Bud" as he is pulled, nominally against his will, into being a participant rather than just a distanced narrator and observer. The first time I read this I thought Cosgrove was a barely differentiated second edition of Little Kiwi, necessary mostly to allow Little Kiwi to become Virgil. Now, having read the later two books and the Buddies universe story in The Passionate Attention of an Interesting Man, I can see the seeds of the much more nuanced and three-dimensional character he will become and I appreciate him much more.
Very quick read that I was able to get through. It start off meandering in a totally unrelated story (which maybe I am supposed to think about how it should be a preface for what occurs but I don't think I see the connection).
By the end, it's dealing with Dennis Savage and Little Kiwi's relationship development and changing as they age. They acquire a third that comes in between and then trying to figure out what to do with the lost soul. Previous book dealt with Carlos disappearing and stepping away but ultimately coming back. The threesome situation and the way the gay relationships are depicted feel like it shouldn't have been that way back then as it is representative of the gay mentality that currently exists (temptation, breaking norms of monogamy, infidelity, threesomes, S&M) so it is strange that a book taking place in the late 70s feels so relevant today.
There are hints of sadness from AIDS crisis but it never really focuses on it.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
rounding down a 3.5 just bc i enjoyed Buddies so much more and rated that one a 4. i liked it a little better than the first installment of this trilogy, but ultimately it was still just a hit or miss despite having more of a central theme/overarching plot. maybe it's just because i kind of didn't care for that plot? like, knowing that this is based off real people def doesn't make it any more enjoyable to read about little kiwi/virgil's whole situation with dennis savage, like christ. idk like i just know i would have had such an animosity-fueled relationship with this guy if i'd known him. i did really love the story at the end though. the discussion of maurice was nice and also really fucking funny.
This third installment cracks some of the idyllic mood of the first two books, as relationships evolve, people age, and the Stonewall generation deals with the AIDS crisis. Mordden the character and Mordden the author are my parents’ age, and in the book are about as old as I cam now, so some of the reflections-on-pushing-40 plot threads hit close to home for me.
Third in the Buddies Cycle of memoirs couched as short stories, most having the same characters. Very good portrayal of gay life in NYC in the late 1980’s and early 1990’s. Especially touching was The Dinner Party. Series is definitely worth your time
Ethan Mordden for whatever reason has been a late-in-life discovery in the pantheon of modern gay literature dominated by the likes of Andrew Holleran or Andrew Hollinghurst. His style is quite consistent though and his heart is heavily anchored within the conception of a gay identity as it relates to the 'real' or 'normal' world around it. Which at this point is a dying identity. Not as evocative as Buddies but still engaging.