Double Life is a really enjoyable memoir of the 50-plus year relationship of Norman Sunshine and Alan Shayne, two people who are very much in love, and lucky enough to share their very rich lives together.
To use my favorite (borrowed line), Alan and Norman were "gay before it was fashionable." They meet in the late 1950s/early 60s, when Alan was a struggling actor and Norman was a freelance illustrator, both living in New York. Both are veterans of failed marriages with women and difficult early experiences with men. Both are closeted, though to different degrees. Alan is in therapy to try to "cure" his homosexuality, which is personally and professionally difficult for him (while gay actors were generally accepted by other actors, agents, producers, and directors would not cast or audition known gay men, essentially ending their careers). Norman is bouncing between secret, unsatisfying sexual interludes. Both accept that this is "just the way things are" and neither imagine the possibility of any kind of satisfying, long-term relationship with another man. But then, like a scene from a 1950s technicolor drama, Norman and Alan "meet cute" backstage one day, and the rest is history. 52 years later, they remain a loving couple, and thanks to the State of Massachusetts, they have the legal marriage to prove it.
Double Life is told in alternating chapters, with Norman and Alan taking turns. Sometimes they cover the same event from different points of view, other times they offer a "Meanwhile, back at home" perspective of what each is up to while the other is away for work or some other reason. In addition to being a fascinating memoir of their lives as a gay couple, this is also a really entertaining story of two prestigious careers in the art and entertainment industry. Alan begins as an actor, becomes a casting agent, and eventually ends up as the head of television for Warner Brothers. He's responsible for casting movies like All the President's Men (everytime I see Robert Redford, I will thank Alan) and series like Wonder Woman (he insisted on Lynda Carter), Dukes of Hazzard, and Growing Pains. Norman goes from freelance illustrator, to advertising executive (a real 1960s Mad Man), to respected artist. Together they write, paint, produce, in New York, LA and elsewhere. They were Rock Hudson's neighbors and one of the few people allowed to see the star as he was dying of AIDS. They were good friends with Katherine Hepburn (the Kate anecdotes were a special treat for me), Gore Vidal, Mike Nichols, etc etc etc. It's interesting to read an art and entertainment memoir from the perspective of non-actors, as it's always a fascinating reminder of just how much goes into each gallery viewing or television show that the viewers never see. This book would make a great gift for any arts-focused person in your life for the professional anecdotes alone.
Norman and Alan are not professional writers, so their memoir is conversational in style. It reads as a little stripped down, lacking in heavy metaphor or histrionics, but in a way that makes it more impactful. Every slight and snub aimed their way because of their relationship, though reported in simple language almost without comment, radiates off the page. After a lifetime of these kinds of small cuts, it seems the authors want you to think it doesn't hurt them anymore, even though it's clear it does.When Alan (I'm pretty sure it was Alan...) writes about how they watched many friends die of AIDS, and waited for news like war veterans awaiting lists of the wounded, the words were sparse but they still made me cry. When they write about their wedding ceremony, I cried again.
At first, I held it against Alan and Norman that they weren't exactly gay rights crusaders. They don't seem to be that interested in the political world in general, and very little of the book is devoted to commenting on political issues or concerns. They live, they work, they love (the definition of Freudian sanity), and that's about it. When people tell them they shouldn't appear at industry functions together, they bring female dates instead. It's known that they're a couple, and they don't hide it. But they're conscious of how it could be a liability for them, especially professionally, so they take pains to make sure they "don't rub it in people's faces." They're out, but only with friends or at home, which is part of the reason why they remain withdrawn from events outside of their carefully built, comfortably financed world.
At first this struck me as a little selfish. Knowing that real crusaders were out there risking everything, how could they live a life so silent? But this is real life, not a morality tale or a novel. Norman and Alan want to be happy, they want to work, they want to be together, and they figure out a way to make all of those things happen. There's no law that says they must suffer nobly because they're gay. They're allowed to be happy too. And in their own quiet way, they are revolutionaries. They may have been the first men to openly state that they lived together in the NY Times. When they lose friends and loved one to AIDS they switch all of their charitable giving to AIDS charities. When Missouri declares gay marriage illegal and unnatural, they get married. And of course, they decided to write this book. In a day and age when so many teens kill themselves rather than face what they think will be a lonely, unloved life as a gay person, Alan and Norman have written a memoir that says not only can life get better, but it can be long, full of love, and shared with a truly great partner.