Qu'est-ce qu'être homosexuel aujourd'hui ? Faut-il former des communautés et pourquoi ? Quel objectif viser : l'égalité dans la société telle qu'elle est ou bien la remise en question de ses structures ? Jusqu'à quel point se différencier des hétérosexuels ? Faut-il lier revendications sexuelles et contestation politique ?
Ces questions, les communautés gays et lesbiennes se les posent nécessairement. Plus largement, elles invitent à une redéfinition du sujet humain dans les sociétés contemporaines.
Déjà considéré comme un classique aux États-Unis, Homos propose une réflexion critique novatrice sur l'identité et les dangers du repli communautaire.
Leo Bersani is an American literary theorist and Professor Emeritus of French at the University of California, Berkeley. He also taught at Wellesley College and Rutgers University.
In this 1995 book, Bersani begins with a stark statement: “No one wants to be called a homosexual.” He is not thinking, primarily, of closeted gay men or women, but the aversion to “homosexuality” on the part of self-identified homosexual activists and theorists.
According to Bersani, queer theorists like Monique Wittig, Judith Butler, and Michael Warner have taken “queer” to delineate political rather than erotic tendencies. In their writing, they have erased the specificity of gay identity in favor of transcendence over the homo-hetero binary, or of social constructivism, or of historicizing the category; these theorists fear, rightly, to essentialize gay identity, a move that would fall in with heterosexist practice.
Though he is opposed, like the other theorists, to essentialist definitions, Bersani wants to reinstate the specificity of gay identity—same-sex desire—because one needs to oppose heterosexism on behalf of something, from the position of somewhere, however compromised something or somewhere is. His most potent argument against the erasure of gay identity is that such erasure is exactly what homophobia aims to accomplish. The first two chapters develop that argument in detail, with references to America in the early 1990s.
The next chapter argues that S/M merely replicates the power structures in the outside world, and does not question, let alone change, those structures, unlike what its advocates, including Michel Foucault, say. The chapter supports the overarching argument, that some strands of current queer theory are not as gay-affirmative as they make themselves out to be.
The last chapter, titled “The Gay Outlaw,” expands on what Bersani sees as the need to destroy all relationism first, constructed as it is by oppression, before we can see the way forward to a new idea of relations and community. To figure forth that idea, he analyzes Gide’s The Immoralist, Proust’s Sodam and Gomorrah, and Genet’s Funeral Rites.
The book is a stimulating read, written in readable prose, without too much theoretical jargon. I agree with the need to keep the specificity of gay identity while keeping out essentialist definitions. Though “queer” intends to be inclusive, to describe behavior instead of essence, I want to think of myself as “gay” because that denotes, particularly, my sexual attraction to men.
I am not so easy with the idea of destroying relationism in order to revolutionize oppressive structures. As Bersani admits, the idea is very far from being a political program. To my mind, the idea is also far too literary, supported as it is by literary analysis. Bersani describes Genet’s “revolutionary strength” thus:
Both his abhorrent glorification of Nazism and his in some ways equally abhorrent failure to take that glorification seriously express his fundamental project of declining to participate in any sociality at all [author’s italics].
One might ask why one should read an anti-social writer for clues to changing society. Bersani’s answer is that Genet compels us to re-think what we mean and what we want from community. Still, Bersani’s language of revolution runs counter to Karl Popper’s argument that, given our limited knowledge, social change must be wrought in incremental steps, through the deployment of social technology, instead of resorting to revolution and wiping the slate clean. The homosexual as outlaw is too tempting an idea not to resist.
"So, I hear Jean Genet was orally impregnated by imagining himself eating his dead lover's waste, thus allowing him to expel said dead lover as a world of new images and establishing the potential fertility of rimming."
Iconic quotes include: "Jean Genet was orally impregnated by imagining himself eating his dead lover's waste, thus allowing him to expel said dead lover as a world of new images and establishing the potential fertility of rimming."
I was prepared to read this book as a prequel to Edelman's _No Future_, and I can't decide if that's what I got. In some ways, Bersani predates Edelman, but in others, he goes much further. Edelman is clearly influenced by Bersani's resistance to dominant social orders via an extremely threatening "outlaw existence" (76). Where they seem to diverge is that Bersani finds this existence compelling, and Edelman finds it mundane.
Bersani pushes for us to see the productivity of existing as queer outlaws: they allow us to trace "a theory of love based not on our assertions of how different and how much better we are than those who would do away with us (because we are neither that different nor that much better), but one that would instead be grounded in the very contradictions, impossibilities, and antagonisms brought to light by any serious genealogy of desire" (108). This is a pretty strong case for what, in Bersani's footsteps, will be come to be known as "queer negativity." If a queer outlaw existence allows us to redefine love in a way that encapsulates all the negativity queerness connotes, then there is, ironically, something positive about queer negativity.
Of course, Edelman deflates this possibility. More than ever, I understand the gravity of his argument. For Edelman, all that a queer outlaw existence accomplishes is a demand for culture to recognize the dramatic negativity that has become its symptom.
After reading _Homos_, the question I have is, in acknowledging Bersani's work, does Edelman resist or simply downplay the possibility Bersani suggests? Of course, Edelman would have us think that he resists it, that it is unimportant, so that the negativity of his rhetorical force can really affect us. But, logically, I don't think the two arguments conflict very much. Edelman just, albeit importantly, fleshes out the truly negative manifestation of Bersani's work. Hopefully, a re-reading of _No Future_ will answer this question.
The first half of the book is fantastic, especially the chapter on Gay Daddy, where there's a great reading of Foucault and Butler. The last chapter didn't do much for me, but that's because I wasn't familiar with the texts that Bersani was drawing heavily upon to make his points.
i don't necessarily agree with Bersani and i think a lot of his arguements are purely theoretical reflection; but it's undeniable he brings up some solid questions & puts out some really good turns of phrase
Read because I was recommended "The Gay Outlaw" as a reference for a paper on queer criminality, stayed because Bersani ties rimming/scat to fertility.
"The rimmer in his jouissance has demiurgic powers. Genet is orally impregnated by eating his lover’s waste. Having eaten Jean as death, Genet expels him as a world of new images." (178-9)
Do I find the rimming/fertility discourse relevant to my own research? Shockingly, yeah, I do. Do I also find it hilarious and intend on recommending it to everyone I can? Yes, yes I do.
That period when psychoanalysis was a huge focus in queer theory was a trip, man.
This is an insightful if perhaps sometimes controversial exploration of the psychology of homosexuality. The author, an academic and literary critic, analyzes the nature of the identity of today's homosexual. In a compact well-organized short tome the world of sexual enlightenment is analyzed and some conclusions are arrived at, or at least suggested.
This book was interesting--I think I'd like to go back and read it again but with a copy I can write in, but I don't love it enough to buy it, if that makes any sense. To me, the earlier parts of the book were the most useful, though it was definitely an interesting read (I finished it in less than a day.) In some ways, though, it felt like 'just another piece of queer theory,' which is no real mark against it necessarily if that's what you're looking for I guess, but wasn't the most interesting thing in the world to me.