Avant-garde photographers and closeted cops. Sexual buccaneers and yearning celibates. Dutiful uncles and embittered sons. Healthy men who live in terror of getting sick. Sick men who find that their debility suddenly makes them fearless.
What unites the characters in this triumphantly outspoken anthology is a sexual orientation that has made them outsiders in contemporary America. What unites the fourteen stories that Ethan Mordden -- himself one of our best-known gay writers -- has collected here is an outsider's acuity of vision, a gaze that deconstructs the straight world even as it explores the landscape of sexual otherness.
A collection of work from the early 1990's. Some of these writers have come to be well known (like Jim Provenzano, Michael Cunningham, and Scott Heim) while a couple of others seem not to have managed to pursue writing careers.
As with any collection, there are things to like and pieces which do not work. I won't name names here; the world is much too small, and the memory for slights far too long.
"Forty Wild Crushes; or, Whenever I See a Dachshund I Think of G.I. Joe" by Jim Provenzano, a hilarious journey through pop culture and developing sexuality, is my favourite. There, I said it.
I am a great reader of anthologies such as the 'Men on Men', 'New American Gay Writing' and 'His' anthology series and many stand alone anthologies and for me what is of paramount importance is the quality of writing an anthology contains. The actual theory or purpose as propounded by the editor always comes in a remote second because, usually, the circumstances which generated the anthology have not simply receded but in many cases disappeared from memory.
This anthology is unique because I cannot resist reviewing and critiquing Ethan Mordden's theories on 'gay literature' as expressed in his 25 page introduction (the longest piece in the book) in some depth but first I will comment on the 'New Gay Literature' the anthology contains.
The anthology contains fourteen stories of which six are by established writers (John Weir, Michael Cunningham, Brad Gooch, Jim Provenzano, G. Winston James and Ethan Mordden) and eight by writers who were unknown or at the very early stages of their writing careers. Of these only Scott Heim and Abraham Verghese (about whom I will say more later) have had stories published elsewhere. None of the other six had work published previously and, as far as I can tell, none had any further fiction published. Any anthology you pick up from the 1980s through to the early 2000s will have a piece of work which is the only published work of an author because he died of AIDS. At least one of Mordden's authors, Robert Trent, died two years after his story appeared in Waves. But that is not the case with the others, John Edward Harris, Rex Knight, Jesse Green, Michael Scalasi or Richard Davis. What all these authors appear to have had personal or professional connections to Ethan Mordden which might explain how such generally lack lustre work came to be in this anthology. In the case of Rex Knight the contribution is so mediocre that I am tempted to believe he was a favorite trick of Mordden's.
What none of these stories provide is the frisson of excitement that so many stories in, for example, Men on Men 5, edited by David Bergman and also published in 1994, provided. Nothing in Mordden's anthology compares to the brilliantly funny 'Toilet Training: the ABC's' by D. Lee Williams (an excerpt from Lee Williams novel 'After Nirvana' which I immediately bought on the strength of its MonM excerpt).
As an introduction to New Gay Literature 'Waves' is close to a fraud. The excerpt from Michael Cunningham's 'A Home at the End of the World' reminds us now of how well Cunningham could write, but in 1994 the novel had been in bookshops since 1990 and it is hard to believe gay readers needed an excerpt or, that it could be called 'new'. The same might be said about John Weir and Brad Gooch while even Jim Provenzano who had yet to publish any books was a well established West Coast journalist and editor. The only really 'new' writer is Scott Heim but his novel 'Mysterious Skin' was already scheduled for publication in 1995. Then there is Abraham Verghese.
Verghese is interesting because his inclusion begs the question what is 'gay literature' and although Mordden spends twenty five pages identifying and dissecting three 'waves' of gay literature, since 1977 (of which more later), he doesn't explain what makes a piece of fiction 'gay literature'. Verghese is a heterosexual doctor (that he is married and has two children is the first thing his author bio tells us) whose story about a man with AIDS was first published in the New Yorker. The inclusion of a straight author in a anthology of 'New Gay Writing' is unique to 'Waves'. You need to go back to anthologies providing historical surveys of the 'The Homosexual Theme' in literature by the likes Seymour Kleinberg (The Other Persuasion 1977) or Edmund Wilson's 1991 Faber Book of Gay Literature to find straight authors in a gay anthology.
Let me be clear I am not saying that only gay authors can write about gays or gay themes, but if they do is that gay literature? I might better explain with an example an author, I highly admire, Zulfikar Ghose who was born in 1935 in a the Punjab, then part of India but which became part of Pakistan in 1947, but his family moved to Bombay in 1942 and after partition in 1947 moved to the UK were Ghose went to school and university and began his career as a writer. In 1969 Ghose moved to Texas where he lived and taught until he died in 2008. He married a Brazilian woman in 1964 and six of his novels are set in Brazil. Although the novels, especially, his trilogy 'The Amazing Brazilian' are brilliant Ghose is not described as, and would never have described himself as, a Brazilian author.
I can't help thinking that the cachet that publication in the New Yorker of Verghese's story about a man dying with AIDS counted for more than anything else with Mordden. It is not a particularly good story and certainly wouldn't make any anthology with an AIDS theme now.
But what are Mordden's theory of gay literature? He identifies three 'Waves' (Mordden's word) of gay fiction, the Stonewall writers of the 1970s which he defines as the members of the Violet Quill; the second wave writers of the mid 1980s like David Leavitt, John Fox, Joseph Hansen and Michael Cunningham, who had an excerpt from 'A Home at the End of the World' published in the New Yorker in 1988. (The same excerpt as Mordden publishes six years later, so much for 'New' gay writing). Only one author is referenced as third wave, 'Pizza Face, or, the Hero of Suburbia' by Ken Siman though he does mention Dennis Cooper but admits he began publishing back at the time of first, Stonewall, wave (oddly he doesn't anywhere mention 'Closer to the Knives: A memoir of Disintegration' by David Wojnarowicz, which is advertised at the back of 'Waves', which was published in the same year, 1991, as 'Pizza Face'). Although he does manage to mention all the authors in 'Waves' in connection with Wave two or three he really doesn't make any coherent argument about any of them representing a 'new gay literature'.
But then the entire purpose of the introduction is about trashing the Violet Quill writers (was he never invited to join? was he rejected?). He spends pages denigrating, in particular Edmund White, Andrew Holleran and David Ferro. He informs us that as a writer Edmund White was '...more clever the wise, and self regarding rather perceptive...'; Holleran misquoted the line from King Lear 'As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods; They kill us for their sport' as 'As wanton flies to boys are we to the gods...' and that the line 'After some time he realized the house was speaking to whomever might be listening; this was Mark' in a David Ferro story was wrong because '...the relative pronoun is the subject of the verb, not the object of the preposition'. You'd never imagine from Mordden's demolition job that White and Holleran would still be publishing in the 21st century and that Ferro would be at the top of most lists of great writers lost to AIDS.
I can't give this anthology less than three stars because Jim Provenzano's story is marvellously funny, Scott Heim's a wonderful foretaste of his novels to come and the excerpt from Michael Cunningham's 'A Home at the End of the World' simply beautiful; but is the first anthology from that era that I cannot recommend anyone to seek out. Mordden's introduction is risible and most of the pieces by unknowns are forgettable at best. Maybe if I'd read 'Pizza Face' I'd understand what Mordden meant, but I doubt it.
Found this at a used bookstore years after it was published. It led to me look up several of the contributors, most of whom have written some pretty good novels. I didn't understand the intro/essay about old school gay lit vs. new, but it seems these authors at the time were the "new kids."
The introduction is wonderful, and some of the stories were very appealing; others, much less. So much less so that it was hard to say I liked the book in total. I had read parts of it years ago, though never finished it until this 2025 reading.
There is always something fun about reading short-story anthologies since they allow you to sample wildly different styles in quick succession. As with any anthology, this one had its fair share of stories that felt flat with me, either in style or content, but it also had some that moved and delighted me. Mordden managed to communicate to the reader the wide diversity in “gay” literature and through an interesting introduction also managed to give the context of its evolution.
This was a delightful read, especially Mordden's appraisal of gay male literature in the introduction. With an academic's scope (and a fiction writer's merciful precision), he outlines the various "waves" of gay literature. Of particular interest here is Mordden's mercenary take down of Andrew Holleran, whom Mordden takes to task by painstakingly pointing out the various cultural, "highbrow" flubs in Holleran's work as a columnist.
Apparently, the empress wore no clothes, and Mordden was out here snatching wigs, exposing pseudo-literary queens for the goons they truly are.
(All of this is in humor. Holleran is the last one standing of the Violet Quill. Rest in peace, Eddie. Don't come for me, Grandmother.)