There is something inauspicious about both the title and the introduction to LGBTQ Comedic Monologues That Are Actually Funny. Near the end of the introduction, editor Alisha Gaddis writes, “So take this book. Be YOU! Take a monologue that is actually funny and DO IT!” While certainly not her intention, language such as “actually funny” suggests that some monologues in this collection are, in fact, not funny, so just pick the funny ones…you’ll see what she means. But to my delight, the content of this collection transcends those initial concerns. LGBTQ Comedic Monologues That Are Actually Funny is a clever, multi-faceted, and affecting text that has a place, albeit marginally, in the canon of queer texts.
Many of the writers in LGBTQ Comedic Monologues That Are Actually Funny contribute more than one monologue, and the best among them is Leah Mann. Breaking Bad News is the second monologue in the collection, and it succinctly encapsulates Mann’s comedic and dramatic sensibilities. According to the stage directions, Sam is an “androgynous woman” who breaks “some devastating news to her beloved children” (6). It is not until the final few lines of the monologue that readers realize Sam’s children are pet dogs. Mann intends to normalize the androgynous Sam by allowing her the trudge through the mundane muck of cliched, heteronormative relationships. Mann like many of her contributors refrains from “othering” LGBTQ characters. That, of course, is potentially problematic. Numbers of LGBTQ individuals oppose, for example, same-sex marriage because they are committed to constructing new, non-heteronormative, non-patriarchal family structures. While this does not constitute “othering” in a xenophobic sense, it does create space for queer subjects to reflect, through resistance and difference, the deficiencies of heteronormativity in radical and productive ways. While funny, Breaking Bad News may detract from the radicality of queer identities.
Mann also contributes The Siren’s Lament, a smart, quasi-mythological monologue that imagines Charybdis as queer and perpetually longing for more women to take to the sea. At one point she declares, “May not a woman wish to see the world? To explore, to conquer? I would lure a thousand men to their doom on this wasted isle if you would send me one single woman to warm my cold-blooded heart for a night” (140). This fun, playful reimagining speaks to the best LGBTQ Comedic Monologues That Are Actually Funny has to offer.
While LGBTQ Comedic Monologues That Are Actually Funny has its limitations, the monologues that work (see also Jamison Scala, Alessandra Rizzotti, Molly Green, Tiffany E. Babb, and Corrine Glazer) do so proudly, fearlessly, and most importantly, comedically.