Against My Better Judgment: An Intimate Memoir of an Eminent Gay Psychologist

by Roger Brown

Against My Better Judgment is an extraordinary and moving account of the life of a gay man in his late 60s after he loses his companion of 40 years to cancer. A leading professor of psychology at Harvard University, Roger Brown bravely comes forth with his compelling story of grief, loneliness, and a relentless search for intimacy, healing, and self-acceptance. Readers gain insight into a stage of life experienced by gay men that is rarely written or spoken of due to the ageism that characterizes homosexual culture.

Genres: Memoir, LGBT, Gay, Psychology

253

First published January 1, 1996

Reviews

[Mediaman · Rating 3 out of 5]

I loved this poorly written, delusional life story of a gay Harvard professor (who considers himself one of the great minds in psychology). He lived with another professor in a non-monogamous gay relationship for forty years, then in his late 60s starts paying young men to act like they loved him.

There are a lot of insights into the warped world of academia, sexuality, and gay relationships. But there are so many things wrong with the book that it doesn't merit more than three stars. I look forward to reading it again, but aware that the author is simply so full of himself that what he's spinning in these pages is distorted B.S., an attempt to leave a whitewashed legacy before he dies (which he did a year after the book's publication).

The first third of the story involves the often bizarre partnership where two well known gay men have almost no sex for 40 years, and both run around on each other. Brown's partner goes out three nights a week cruising for sex. Brown stays home and fumes, but then later in the book we discover he also goes bed hopping despite claiming he is faithful.

The author gets prostate cancer at age 63, which is removed and results in his impotence. Six months later his partner gets cancer and dies quickly.

After a brief morning period Brown decides to hire boys in their 20s to perform for him sexually. The bulk of the book is devoted to these adventures and three in particular that he had long paid contractual relationships with. He later admits that he had hired rent boys all along during his supposedly committed relationship to his partner!

It's poorly written, has a number of mistakes (including claiming two of his three main rent boys meet for the first time together with him near the end of his life but he had already told us the two spent time with him a year earlier at a Maine cabin!), and it is extremely repetitive (needing some serious editing). But the biggest flaw is that Brown doesn't seem to know himself or understand himself. He's putting on a bit of a show for the reader, claiming to be something he's not, getting upset at his partners but in truth he is the only one he should be mad at.

For a guy who is a supposedly groundbreaking psychologist Brown doesn't know much about people or what they think. He makes incredible assumptions without facts to back them up. Often in the book he tells us what his lover was thinking or the reason why his lover was doing something, but admits that he never asked the guy! This is the way one of our greatest Harvard professors handles information, based on his gut instinct after spotting a look in a lover's eyes?

The lesson about academia is probably stronger than the lesson about gay sexuality. He is an elitist who admits he only knows others in his small circle that represent his lover of Shakespeare, opera, and staycations at a nearby Ritz-Carlton. The thinks that's normal and fails to understand when a 24-year-old high school dropout doesn't have the same feelings. It's hilarious to see that at age 69 his young lover takes him to a collectibles shop, and Brown says he never knew any such thing existed nor that anyone paid money to collect baseball cards. Huh? But he thinks all of us know the operas he constantly refers to? This is the type of out of touch guy they hire at Harvard?

Brown tries to mold these rent boys the way Professor Higgens did to Eliza Doolittle, but in the end all abandon him because he can't exchange money for their feelings. When he suspects they "cheat" on him he calls and leaves horrible drunken voice mails telling them how much he hates them. That's Harvard classy? Brown spends literally tens of thousands of dollars on the young men (plus cars, plane trips, vacations, and investing up to $60,000 in their businesses) to end up empty in bed because he didn't realize you can't buy love and can't try to control people you're having sex with.

The biggest unanswered question is why he simply didn't go cruising for free sex like his original partner instead of paying out so much money? My guess is that it's because the author thinks of himself as above all of that and that he wanted to fall in love with someone. Cruising doesn't result in love--it's purely for getting your rocks off--and Roger Brown claims to be better than that. Instead he shelled out a fortune to pay 45-years-younger men to act interested in him, only later to find out they thought he was a boring old unattractive loser.

It is a great book for queer studies but most modern gay readers probably won't get out of it what I did, since I'm in Brown's age group and profession. The message is loud and clear that money can buy you sex and companionship, but you have to be willing to give up total control to the hustler and money can never buy you self-respect. Especially when a highly educated author fails to see his own shortcomings and tries to blame all the young guys instead. In truth it was the young sex workers that were the smart ones, the good communicators who refused to let an old lonely horny know-it-all boss them around. Yet no matter how they treated him, Brown kept coming back to pay them. At no point in his life did he ever fulfill his dreams of love because he had such bad judgment.

[David · Rating 3 out of 5]

cover of this goodreads version is different than the one I have. Anyway, an unusual autobiography to say the least. Covers mainly his 60's, after partner of 40 years died. There are looks back at their life together, at his early academic career in social psychology and psycholinguistics, etc. but main focus is his relationships with young male prostitutes, particularly three with whom he wanted more of an emotional relationship. Plays the "sugar daddy" (his term) role with each, hiring them to come on vacations with him, investing in their businesses, etc. He learns painfully and repeatedly that they may admire his extensive knowledge of opera, his wit, and so on, but they're not in love with him.

I knew the author slightly (he died by suicide a year or so after this book came out in 1996, apparently to cut short a time of tremendous physical pain from several illnesses), as a good friend of mine who had taken a couple of his courses and sort of imprinted on him as a mentor introduced us once or twice. He was not out at that time as gay, and the relationships described here with young men occurred later anyway. Sad and infuriating to reflect on how much wasted emotional energy went toward staying closeted in that time.

As a book, rather than as a life, its strength is candor, and its weakness is repetition. About a third of the way through, I wanted to ban comments on opera (am I like this about sports? I need to check with a friend). And i don't think I'm unusually prudish, but I definitely began to skim over the copious recaps of his intimate encounters to get to the parts about aging, relationships, and his work life.

[Nelson Minar · Rating 5 out of 5]

A painfully honest autobiographical account of the author's life from ages 62-67 or so, after his lover of 40 years died. The first chapter or two is about his relationship with his lover. This was the most painful part to me - it's quite honest and self critical, full of the minute dissections of life that make the miseries become apparent. At the same time the description is of a relationship with a lot of strength and companionship.

After his lover's death the author goes on to talk about his new sexual life, the various relationships he has with call boys. The interesting thing to me is that he developed long term relationships with three different hustlers; the narrative is about his experiences with them. It's not spoiling the book to say none of the relationships worked out very well.

The book as a whole is not exactly exuberant. There are moments in it that are quite fun, or funny, or even hopeful. And I really enjoyed the author's ability to analyze and talk about himself. It's worth a read, though, if nothing else than for the voyeuristic pleasure of it.

[Bookworm · Rating 3 out of 5]

Worth reading, lots of focus on gay sex, love, and aging.
Love cannot be bought, sold, or pleaded for.
It can't be convinced or pried, but must be given freely.

The main lesson: When someone does not love you the way they ought to, leave. Leave quickly, without bargaining, badgering, lamenting, hoping, wishing, or attempting.