On a September night in 1958, three New Orleans college students went looking for a gay man to assault. They chose Fernando Rios, who died from the beating he received. In perhaps the earliest example of the "gay panic" defense, the three defendants argued that they had no choice but to beat Rios because he had made an "improper advance." When the jury acquitted the three, the courtroom cheered. The author offers a detailed examination of the murder and the trial.
This is one of those books you are "supposed to like" and if not at least go easy on it. I did not like it, but I will include where I think it worked. First though, some negatives. Delery is an activist, so his biases are upfront. Rather than present multiple reasons for why something happened, it is always a matter of bigotry. It is not that such a thing can be discounted, particularly in this case. Rather, the best historians will at least say it was "likely" and at best (space permitting) offer other explanations as well. But for the activist, that is not enough. For instance, Delery is aghast throughout that there was not more outrage over the crime, much as certain people on the Internet are aghast no one seems to care when cops shoot white people in the year 2021. Delery's argument is that it was Rios' supposed homosexuality that made no one care. This is likely as the case went on, but not at first. Rios was one of many crimes in the French Quarter at the time. Which leads to another point. He thinks the efforts to "clean up" the French Quarter were a product of homophobia. This was certainly one reason, but it was also a haven of hustlers preying on tourists, run by the mafia, and filled with crime. I could go on, but the book is filled with these narrow interpretations. What is frustrating is Delery often enough does avoid making speculation fact, which makes it clear that he knows better.
To give Delery credit, when he sticks to the case he is good. The murder and trial chapters were by far the best. He also should be commended for shining a light on this murder. Those two chapters and the obscurity of the case prevent the book from being a true stinker. Perhaps Delery could have gone into greater detail about the crime. At any rate, to reach book length you have a lot of padding in this, and that is a sin nearly as bad as the overt bias.
I mostly agree with Delery's conclusions. More important to me though is good writing and history. This does not work as either, particularly the personal asides. You get to hear in the first chapter about him walking about the French Quarter. I really do not care about his opinion of unremarkable opinions about Marco Rubio and Rick Scott. To be fair, I am not the audience. This is meant for those who already agree with Delery's worldview and have no issue with confirmation bias. To be fair to them, if violating logical fallacies came with the death penalty, the last five years would have seen 90% of Americans ride the lightening and that is being optimistic.
This book is a must for all people interested in LGTB history. Clayton Delery wrote an excellent book several years ago on the Uptown Lounge fire/arson/murder..This book is equally well written and researched. Like the educator he is, he has a knack for simplifying legalese language to explain it clearly and concisely. He makes this 1958 murder still relevant to today's uncertain times.
In 1958, three Tulane students took the life of a young man named Fernando Rios, beating and robbing him and leaving him to die in a French Quarter alleyway.* This clear-eyed and compassionate book provides a comprehensive account of the murder itself, its context, and its aftermath. Recommended for anyone seeking to know more about the history of LGBTQ people in New Orleans (although of course that string of letters is not how people knew themselves in the 1950s). Out for Queer Blood is particularly adept at outlining the ways in which the city's criminal punishment apparatus (the police and the courts) succeeded at harassing queer people even as it failed spectacularly to protect them from bodily harm, or to mete out punishment in the wake of (presumed) queer death.
Engagingly and accessibly written, Delery-Edwards's book also delves into topics that exceed the boundaries of the Crescent City, including homophobia and the Red Scare, midcentury anti-Mexican xenophobia, the genealogy of the "gay panic defense," and hate crimes law.
Rest in peace, Fernando Rios.
*As Delery-Edwards shows, the specific culpability of each of the three assailants is impossible to determine. However, at a minimum, the three were present for the assault that ended Rios's life, and did nothing to aid him after his collapse.