Fire Island: a slim strip of land off the coast of New York, and a place of hedonism, reinvention, liberation.
Arriving on the island after a break-up back home in England, scholar and poet Jack Parlett was beguiled by what he found. Here were the halcyon scenes of Frank O’Hara’s poetry; the bars where Patricia Highsmith got drunk; the infamous cruising sites; and the dazzling beaches where couples had fallen in and out of love, free for a sun-kissed moment to be themselves in the time before gay liberation.
Tracing Fire Island’s rich history, Parlett leads the reader through the early days of the island’s life as a discreet home for same-sex love, to the wild parties of the post-Stonewall disco era, to the residents’ confrontation with the AIDS epidemic, and into a present where a host of new challenges threaten the island’s future.
Lyrical and vivid, Fire Island is a hymn to an iconic destination, and to the men and women whose ardour and determination spread freedom across its shores.
really really blown away by this, a perfect blend of cultural and personal history, navigating the bushes and dunes of one of our few sites of devotion.
I bought this book thinking it would be a history of Fire Island and its queer communities. It is so much more than that. You’ll leave this book with 100 more things to read, watch, and listen to - it’s a history of this strip of sand (that writer Andrew Holleran likened to a parenthesis) told through the lives of the writers, artists, and activists who have spent time here and the works the island inspired or is part of. Favorite anecdote was the brief mention of Maurice Sendak and Shel Silverstein meeting on Fire Island just as Sendak was starting work on Where the Wild Things Are.
That I finished reading it on the very beaches it described was the icing on the cake!
This is well researched and very well written. I have to say, it was far better than I expected!
Fire Island for sure has a rich history, and for a certain type of demographic holds a special place in the NYC queer community.
But that’s the thing isn’t it? Fire Island historically is an amazingly hedonistic retreat… if you’re a rich, cis-gender, white male, muscle god. But what about the rest of us?
I have been to Fire Island, but not since the 00s. It doesn’t sound like it’s changed much.
Jack Parlett certainly gives a balanced and, it feels, mostly accurate account of the island, good and bad. And there was lots I wasn’t aware of in terms of its literary history. (It’s also great for discovering these-days-obscure queer literature from the 20th century!)
I was tempted to skim in a few places however, which usually for me means I’m not 100% engaged. But I think ultimately that’s a reflection of my level of interest (or lack of) in the Island itself, not a reflection of Parlett’s work.
Jack Parlett's Fire Island is a history of a thin strip of land off the shore of Long Island and the queer characters that heralded its paradise.
Fire Island lives in the queer imaginary as a getaway for (a certain type of) queer people; a place where they can go to let loose, be free, and escape the heteronormative demands of New York City and the other places they call home. From Paul Cadmus to Edmund White to Carson McCullers, artists have given The Pines and Cherry Grove a unique artistic vibe, and even today artists come to the Island to explore sexuality, race, and more. Fire Island itself stands as a canary-in-a-coal mine of where the gay community is: in the 70s it represented the liberatory celebrations of a post-Stonewall generation and in the 80s and 90s it reflected the AIDS epidemics horrific impacts on the lives of queer people. Through all of this Fire Island persists, but not without its own critics: an exclusive getaway that requires money, connections, and a sense of self that is unavailable to a vast number of queer people.
Parlett's account in Fire Island is an intellectual history of sorts that anchors its telling through the lives of the artists, writers, and activists that visited the Island. In this way, I loved the book: I encountered numerous new queer books to add to my "to-read list." But in other ways I found the book a bit lacking: often the book chased rabbits down holes that had little to do with Fire Island, and I wanted more detail about the communities of people on Fire Island without connections to artists and writers (I feel the book only gave a singular, artistic focus to its study). I will say, though, one of the best parts of the book was Parlett's few moments of breaking the fourth wall where he shared his own experiences on the Island and with regards to his own sense of self and sexuality. While I found Fire Island lacking, I wait hopefully for a future memoir from Jack Parlett.
I liked this queer history of Fire Island — a vacation resort just off the coast of New York's Long Island that's famously 'for the gays' — a lot more than I expected to. Chronicling the history and development of this supposed queer 'paradise' with inflections from literary history, personal memoir, and the broader movement for gay liberation in 20th century America, Parlett here weaves together a rich, multifaceted "case study of utopian imperfections" that memorialises this strip of sand (previously likened to a parenthesis by author Andrew Holleran) while also acknowledging and critically examining its many flaws, including the fact of its orientation primarily towards affluent, white, cisgender gay men.
Much has been said about the legendary parties hosted in this oft mythologised enclave, and the singular role it has played by creating space for gay hedonism, reinvention, and liberation over the course of the last hundred years, and there is doubtlessly always more where those narratives come from. What I found uniquely rewarding about this book was that it is written in the spirit of genuine historical inquiry: Parlett here looks at the material conditions that led to this originally 'family-friendly' destination becoming a place that "theater people" and 'deviant' queers would flock to, the transience of various establishments and quasi-institutions within the space, the tensions between the two primary communities within (the more inclusive and uninhibited Cherry Grove versus the more developed and wealthy section that is The Pines, and the fact that you needed time, money, and resources — including a very particular form of social capital — to get there, let alone to belong. Fire Island does make the reader feel a certain sense of jealousy about having missed the party, but it is also equally incisive about aspects of the social scene that were buried beneath that more romantic view of it: the rampant drug abuse, the body fascism, the seemingly feudal hierarchy between owners, renters, and day-trippers, the racial and misogynistic prejudice that made more than just a subset of queer folks feel unwelcome, and the political ambivalence in the face of Stonewall (which directly benefited the islanders) and the onset of the AIDS crisis (which ravaged many amongst them).
Further, the historical narrative of Fire Island is moved along through the lives of the writers and artists who lived, worked, and vacationed here, so that there is more than just a handful of gossip-worthy anecdotes to be found about prominent members of the literati: from Walt Whitman, who was one of the place's early proponents, to Oscar Wilde, who may or may not have made it there; from Carson McCullers and Patricia Highsmith, the latter of whom had epic brawls with people around her, to the island's champion poet Frank O'Hara, who died there; from Edward Albee, who wrote on the island out of enjoyment, to James Baldwin, who wrote but found no respite in its community; and from Andrew Holleran, who saw the place through rose-tinted glasses, to Larry Kramer, who denounced it as morally vacuous. Aside from these regulars, the island was at least one-time host to figures like Marilyn Monroe, Patti Smith, David Wojnarowicz, Andy Warhol, and many others, and their appearances too enliven something in the book's cultural narrative.
My one critique of the book is that in his attempt to streamline the narrative through literary and artistic appearances, the author often fails to show how island communities transitioned: we are told that Native Americans once lived on the land, but not much further about what happened (though we can all probably guess). We learn that there was an influx of a substantial lesbian community after a certain point in the 70s, but they are not really spoken about further in the text. We know that black, brown, trans, and gender non-conforming people sometimes made their way to the island, and that the experienced hostility, but more substantial accounts or inquiries into what drew them there were largely missing or left up to assumption.
Still, given that the island was, and even today remains, a domain mostly at the disposal of rich white gays (with 'Fire Island gays' becoming a popular epithet), it makes sense that these are the people we encounter most often within these pages. It also makes sense in context of Parlett writing about grappling with his own sexuality as a gay man (I did find those first-person reflections on the author's experiences, whether in London, New York proper, or on the island, rather illuminating of the ways in which both community and the lack thereof can be alienating, and liked that the author was aware and admitting of the fact that his alienation was tempered to a great extent by his whiteness).
Overall, this was a fascinating book with lots to offer: I came away with having learned a lot about the topic at hand, plus a varied reading list of queer art and literature from the 20th century that I wouldn't have known about otherwise. Fire Island, to me, definitely seems like a valuable addition to the body of work dealing with American cultural history — or, at the very least, a vacation resort view of it — and I would recommend diving in if you're inclined to learn more.
Despite its title, this book is less a history of Fire Island, although it is that to a degree, and more a series of mini-biographies of the love lives of both well- and lesser-known literary and artistic figures as they happened wholly or partially on Fire Island. There is interesting material about the development of Cherry Grove and the Pines as separate and distinct from other Fire Island communities, and how they fit into the larger development of the modern queer community, but those parts seem minimal in comparison to the many paragraphs of who was living with whom, and who came to visit, etc.
Unfortunately, the author although chooses to intersperse his material on Fire Island with his own musings on this troubled relationships with his own sexuality, body image, and alcohol, sometimes managing to link his own life back to the history of Fire Island or someone who was there, but often not, making these parts an uncomfortable break in the narrative.
If you think of this book as telling a part of LGBTQ+ history, then it's a treasure trove. If you're looking for a full history of Fire Island, you'll find much less to appreciate, as there is more to Fire Island than Cherry Grove and the Pines. A more specific title would go a long way to manage expectations.
FTC Disclaimer: I received this book from the publisher in exchange for this review.
This was an absolutely fascinating read. Hearing first time anecdotes from my roommate who has gone to Fire Island in recent years really piqued my interest into the history behind the island, and this really delivered! It wasn’t exactly the history I was originally looking for, but I learned a lot more than I was originally looking for as well!
A fascinating account of stories both private and universal connected to this captivating and illustrious place. I appreciated the balance of theoretical, historical, cultural and personal approaches, as well as the fact that the author did not try to brush over the problematic aspects of the history of this place, but rather featured them prominently in his narrative.
This is a wonderfully engaging history of a place that is more like a queer myth than a real place, especially for those who only know of it from other media.
I enjoyed Parlett's lucid prose, his wonderfully broad range of sources and his ability to weave his own experiences with the island into a wider narrative.
My only gripes are; - I felt Parlett was a little too neutral about Larry Kramer. Whilst Kramer has his importance, his anti-sex stance is problematic at best, insidious at worst.
- I wish the 21st Century Fire Island had been given a chapter of its own, and not been relegated to the afterword. The artist residencies, political tensions and environmental fears would have made for a great last chapter, before drawing conclusions in the afterword.
But overall, this is a highly readable and joyous book about a unique and aspirational/inspirational place.
Picked this up from Gay’s The Word queer bookstore in London since I’ve had an obsession with Fire Island for about a year and recently made my first visit. In this book, Parlett both writes a thorough and compelling history of the island while also situating it in his experience navigating the modern gay scene. At so many points did he give words to previously un described emotions I have felt coming to terms with my identity as a gay person. Hardly have I ever felt so much kinship with an author. At every junction he thoughtfully takes on the more problematic parts of fire island without forgetting to appreciate the things that make it special. My only complaint is that I wish it was longer.
I found this to be a really approachable and interesting read! It gives a great overview and celebrates Fire Island as a unique queer space without dismissing its' flaws and problems. I really learned a lot. I would recommend this to readers who like specific, community-focused nonfiction with elements of memoir and self-reflection, or those who would like to learn about queer literary history--I didn't know going into this book I would find that here, but I did and was delighted!
Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for providing me with an ARC of this title in exchange for an honest review.
3.5 probably but it’s pride month so i’ll round up to 4 stars. a quick read that felt like just enough background history to not be overwhelming (like when harlem was in vogue was for me) and contained an excellent reading list at the end. i wish there was more time spent on lesbian histories of fire island but that’s not really what the book was about so it was understandable that this wasn’t covered.
I did not enjoy this book at all. I listened to it as an audiobook on the plane and I disliked the British narrator, I could not concentrate on their voice. The story itself was poorly written and instead of learning about the history of Fire Island and the circumstance in which it came to be what it is or was, I got... Well, nothing.
a very enjoyable overview of about a century’s worth of history of fire island - I did feel like it sort of glossed over the most recent 3 decades of the place’s existence, but I was really struck by the way it tries to fulfill what is revealed to basically be the impossible task of pinning down a history of a place - space that has been something else before it became a vaunted space for acceptance (which the book constantly, rightfully, points out has never been indiscriminate) and will be something else after it ceases to be. A great read which brought together so many disparate threads - and managed to make me curious to learn more about almost every single author, film, poem, or novel it brought up - a feat in and of itself.
very interesting history of a place that is as much myth as it is real. however, it felt like something was missing—some kind of thesis to pull the stories together. +1 for the robert moses mention
picked this up bc of Frank O’Hara and was so tickled when in the intro the author was basically like “I’m here because of Frank O’Hara” but everything about this was really great and the literary focus suited me perfectly
As many have already said, this is more about people who visited, people who didn’t visit, and a lot about the author…but but very little about Fire Island itself.
It became tiresome to have the author find a quote by another author to tie to Fire Island, to only wander off for a chapter about the author, rather than the island.
There was little about how the island developed and at times, certainly when the AIDS crisis was addressed, that this just fell very short.
Might have sceptically side-eyed this in any bookshop, but having heard Parlett read and speak on it I gave him the benefit of the doubt. It's great, an anecdotally-infused broad-strokes social history that sees Fire Island less an idyll than an embodiment of gay culture's best and worst instincts. He unpacks them all with the rigour of an academic and the passion of a person immersed in the world they have formed.
Great research and lovely writing. Jack threads a lot in this book, including his own first-person experiences and the rich literary history connected to the vacation spot that both attracts and horrifies so many gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender and queer people (for countless reasons). An impressive addition to queer studies and United States cultural history.
Queer stories and narratives deserve to not only be excavated from the archive, but be celebrated and prioritized by the wider historical discipline. Fire Island: Love, Loss, and Liberation in an American Paradise by Jack Parlett is such a well-written and researched addition to the queer historical canon. Parlett’s auto-theoretical account chronicles Fire Island’s influence on queer art, literature, politics, liberation and counter-cultural community formation. Parlett examines the history of Fire Island through the artists and writers who occupied this exclusionary queer space in the 20th century such as Oscar Wilde, James Baldwin, Andrew Holleran, and Larry Kramer. The book critically explores Fire Island’s status as a queer utopia/ paradise by interrogating the island’s history and relationship with racism, class, addiction, sexual liberation, and disease. If you are interested in the connection between queer social history, literature, and politics, I highly recommend this book. One of my favorite lines from the book is “Building from the rubble of a community in renewal, these early vacationers knew, like their successors, a fact that is one of the vexed birthrights of queer life: that family, at its truest and most generative, is not only or merely natural, but made.”
What a fabulous book, and a must read for summer. I think if you’re looking for a more traditional history of the island, Parlett doesn’t deliver that. What he does offer though is a portrait of the island populated by queer artists, luminaries, and summer regulars. It feels more alive than a traditional history, and I really loved that.
If you’re someone who wants a something more robust in its historical coverage, Parlett offers a fabulous appendix with more readings. I loved how he interweaved his personal narrative with the history of the island. I personally found myself relating a lot to his experience.
I adore Fire Island, I haven’t been near enough. This book has given me a newfound appreciation for it, and a deeper love for what community means in queer culture. Utopia is out there, but only if we preserve it.
This is a cultural history of Fire Island (mostly the gay areas of Cherry Grove and Fire Island Pines); how the island was shaped by the evolution of gay life in New York (and the U.S. generally). It's a Who's Who of gay literary and entertainment personalities who spent time on the island over the last 100 years and what they thought of the community there, and how the place affected their work.
Because the book is arranged chronologically and does reflect the trials and triumphs of gay people in America over this period, it is something of a condensed version of gay history that a young person (or to someone who has not been aware of gay life) might find eye-opening.
This was a great book—the book's acknowledgements point out that the original intention of this text was to be a survey of the literary output of Fire Island, which I think is pretty apparent even in this final version, but I think Parlett does a great job of exploring some of the prominent writers with connections to the island while still expanding outward to think about social issues of their times. I do wish the ending had been a little longer to parse the modern state of the island more fully, but overall a great read.
A combination of gay social history, survey of authors' work and a personal memoir seen through the eyes of a small strip of land off the coast of Long Island called Fire Island.
I went to Cherry Grove for a long weekend during the AIDS crisis. It was beautiful but very quiet in comparison with the books that I had read about it. But perhaps, I was with a lover and we were more focused on each other.
I read the book with a mixture of interest about the early days of the gay community, pleasure for discovering new gay writers and poet and a huge sadness for what was lost during the AIDS years.
Enjoyed this light read which captures a lot of the magic of this special place
It's been over 40 years since I was last in Fire Island. This history of it calls the time I was there in the mid to late 70s "Halcyon". Indeed it was. I enjoyed learning about how it came to be such an important place for so many of us. And I always felt I was lucky to live it at its best; what came after in the 80s changed it forever.
This well covers the complexity of the island’s community that I didn’t know about and props to the author for not shying away from gay men’s historic misogyny toward lesbians in their own community