Maurice Sendak, Author and Illustrator Passes Away at 83

Illustration from Sendak’s book ‘Higglety Pigglety Pop! or There Must Be More To Life’

Like almost everyone who grew up in an era where his books were available, I love Maurice Sendak’s work.

Famous for Where the Wild Things Are, Sendak had a prolific career
and most recently published Bumble-ardy in 2011. Sendak died on Tuesday
May 8th at the age of 83.

Sendak was openly gay, but only in his later years. The New York Times
wrote in their obituary of Sendak, “As Mr. Sendak grew up — lower
class, Jewish, gay — he felt permanently shunted to the margins of
things. “All I wanted was to be straight so my parents could be happy,”
he told The New York Times in a 2008 interview. “They never, never,
never knew.””

Like so many artists and writers, the unhappiness of his childhood
shaped his outlook and his art. Sendak pushed the boundaries of what was
considered appropriate for children, never shying away from melancholy
or intense topics. In Sendak’s books, dogs ran away from home, bad kids
didn’t get supper, giant chefs might try to mix you into batter, and
pigs were denied birthday celebrations.

Sendak was known for being blunt, curmudgeonly, and unsentimental but
he clearly respected the intellect of his young audiences and credited
them with the ability to understand children’s books that had
complexity.

In a interview with Terry Gross
on NPR, Sendak talked about the fragility and irrationality of life. He
grieved the recent death of two of his close friends but maintained,
despite the difficulty of loss, ”I am in love with the world.”

In the interview Sendak told Gross, ”I don’t believe in an
afterlife, but I still fully expect to see my brother again.” I hope
that he found his brother on the other side.

Vanishing Identities?

The elite New York City private school where I teach as
a substitute has a shelf of books outside it library. “Free Books! Help
Yourself!” I check with the librarians to make sure I too can help
myself, and upon their approval, I dive into their collection of
discarded books, no longer a part of the library’s volumes.

    At first, I am elated. A multicultural almanac,
anthologies of famous female athletes, Latin American female politicians
and other diversity-affirming texts fill these shelves. Where to begin?
What to browse, what to take home? As I carry a bulging bag home from
the high school, I begin to wonder: Why are these books being thrown
away? Are these books being replaced by more updates, nuanced social
justice texts? Or are they rendered obsolete in a post-racial society,
in a state where same-sex marriage is legalized? Are these texts no
longer available to questioning and curious students, eager to see their
faces, stories and histories reflected in books?

In an increasingly electronic age, perhaps the library’s volumes no
longer serve the same function. A quick Google search can take students
to virtual communities like The Queer and Now. But regardless of their
utility, books will always be sacred objects, objects that show history.
I hope that the students of this school and all schools will be find
their identities and interests affirmed in print and in school
classrooms.

Breathe: An Interview with Andrea Jenkins

I am lucky to know Andrea D. Jenkins, a Twin-Cities
based Political Artist/Activist, and a personal role model and friend.
She was gracious enough to speak with me in an interview, below.


ES: What are some identities that are important to you?

AJ: My primary identity is African American transgender artist.

ES: What is your writing process like?

AJ: My writing process…you know, it’s sort of a difficult process to
explain, but I’ll try!  It’s really a daily process if you
will.  My process includes journaling daily. About ten years ago, I
was introduced to a book by Julia Cameron, The Artist’s Way.
In the book, it talks about the morning pages and waking up in the
morning before you get your day going…just write, three pages. It’s
partly exercise, partly identifying what’s on your mind, and really just
getting yourself in the practice of writing.  And I’m amazed. So
probably for the past ten years, I’ve literally written almost every
day, at least three pages- sometimes more.  At first, it was
somewhat disturbing to me, like ‘why can’t I write?’ But when graduate
school was over, I got back to writing daily.  One of the key
things it does it lets me know that I have this muscle, that I can
write.  When I’m walking around thinking about a specific project,
at some point, it’s like stirring soup. You’ve got all these ingredients
in there, and then it’s ready!  And then I write.
Certainly there’s editing, and sometimes I’ll share it with other
people.  I really like to read my work out in public, poetry or
essay, and that gives me a sense of how it reads in the air and sounds
on other people’s ears.
I co-curate a Queer Voices Reading Series with
John Medeiros.  He and I have created this safe space for writers
and artists to share.  With artists and with writers, the point is
to take risks.  “You can’t play safe and make art,” that’s a quote
by Gertrude Stein.

ES: My favorite line of your poetry is from “Influences,” where
you say: “my poetry is influenced by wimmin loving womyn and puppies”.
What is your favorite line?

AJ: You know, all of my poetry, I love.  All of the lines are my
babies.  It’s so funny ‘cause, when I’m having a conversation with
someone and an issue will pop up that I’ve written a poem about, I have
a line a poem that speaks to that.  You know, that poem that you
quoted, “Influences,” I don’t know why, but I really love that. 
It’s probably one of the poems that I read almost every reading that I
do.  And from that poem, I would say my favorite line is “my
poetry is influenced by my trans sista’s and trans brotha’s whose
struggle remains under the radar, until it is time to use the
bathroom.” 
That line really influences my whole reading
career.  It’s a good question, Emily, because it really pushes me
to ask…where is this urge to write, this urge to create coming
from?  What is compelling me?  And I think that line gets at
it.

ES: Do you have a favorite drag performer? If so, who?

AJ: Bebe Zahara Benet. She
is Parisian-born from Cameroon.  She lives and works now in New
York City, but she lived and worked in Minneapolis for a long
time.  She was the winner of the first season of RuPaul’s Drag
Race, but she’s a really dear friend of mine.  She is the most
creative drag queen I have ever met.  She does stage shows, theater
in New York, did a one-woman show beyond her drag performance. 
She produced a modeling, coffee table book just of her in all of these
wonderfully beautiful costumes.  The name of the book is called
“Bella Donna”.

ES: What book do you always recommend to friends/comrades?
AJ: I was on a panel last night, I’m a fellow at the Playwright’s Center,
the Many Voices Fellowship for writers of color. They read our plays
last night and did an artists talk back.  They asked me my
influences, and I  brought this book: Break Every Rule: Essays on Language, Longing, and Moments of Desire,
written by a Brown University professor, Carole Maso.  It’s my
go-to book, whenever I am stuck in my conventional ways of thinking
about language.  She plays with language so intensely and
subversively.  It opens me up to be able to say things in a new
way.  It’s one book that I always refer to on my own, but I also
refer others to it as well.
The book I’m recommending to everyone right now: The Warmth of Other Suns
by Isabel Wilkerson. The title came from a line from a Richard Wright
novel.  But this is a non-fiction book that documents the migration
of African Americans from the South to the North.  She tells the
story in a very unique way.  You can understand that Blacks left
the South because of Jim Crow, right? It tells this story through three
different people.  It’s very personal and very scholarly.  You
can tell a universal story by being very personal, and vice
versa.  And so, by using just three individuals, it allows her to
expand it and make it relevant.

ES: What word or piece of advice do you live by (at the moment).
AJ: Breathe.

Bell Hooks, All About Love

Everyone on the planet should force themselves to read (if not
the whole thing, at the very least) chapter one of Bell Hooks’
book, All About Love: New Visions.

When I was a fourteen I went round and round with my first girlfriend
about what “love” meant (like you do) and could we–should we!– say “I
love you.”  We took the common(…?) route of coming up with a code
word that took the pressure off. It was “green pigs”. I believe we were
riffing off the old adage, “Never trust a man selling blue bananas.”

Silly, young esoterica aside, that was the first of many love
conversations with various people which basically went nowhere. Mostly, I
was too young at the time of that first one, but moving on into my 20′s
things never got better. Until I read this:

EXCERPT (in which All About Love quotes The Road Less Traveled)

I was in my mid-twenties when I first learned to
understand love “as the will to extend one’s self for the purpose of
nurturing one’s own or another’s spiritual growth”

RELATED EXCERPT

Had I been given a clear definition of love earlier in my
life it would not have taken me so long to become a more loving person.
Had I shared with others a common understanding of what it means to
love it would have been easier to create love. It is particularly
distressing that so many recent books on love continue to insist that
definitions of love are unnecessary and meaningless.

WITH A BIT THAT’S GOOD FOR A GENDER BLOG

Or worse the authors suggest love should mean something
different to men than it does to women- that the sexes should respect
and adapt to our inability to communicate since we do not
share the same language. This type of literature is popular because it
does not demand a change in fixed ways of thinking about gender roles,
culture or love. Rather than sharing strategies that would help us
become more loving it actually encourages everyone to adapt to
circumstances where love is lacking.

I’d had too many fruitless conversations and resigned myself to
exactly what Hooks says is so common: Not defining or agreeing on the
meaning of love because it seems you can’t. All About Love (which, again, takes it’s definition from The Road Less Traveled) gave me something to actually work with conceptually.

CLOSING EXCERPT with another quote-inside-a-quote from The Road
Less Traveled, which I have had on my shelf for a decade now, but I have
no plans to read it any time soon, despite numerous recommendations. I
am, instead, re-reading All About Love and wondering about the rest of what Bell Hooks has written…

“Love is as love does. Love is an act of will- namely
both an intention and an action. Will also implies choice. We do not
have to love.” Since the choice must be made to nurture growth, this
definition counters the more widely accepted assumption that we
love instinctually.

And really, re-reading this is actually an interlude in a young adult
fantasy/sci-fi binge which started with me suddenly deciding to read
all the Harry Potter books and see all the movies before the last one
came out.

Harry Potter got me thinking about love. It’s a process. I’m just along for the ride.

So, while I insist that you read this, I will also always respect that you haven’t gotten to it yet.

3 Things to Read and Watch This Spring

1. Susie Bright’s Big Sex, Little Death:
I checked this book out of the library after reading a number of
amazing reviews and I have not been disappointed. Read this book less
for the titillating details of her sexy career and more for the
fascinating details of how she got there.

2. If you’ve been looking for new queer porn to watch, I would highly recommend heavenly spire.com.
This is Shine Louise Houston’s new endeavor into masculinity porn.
There is a beautiful diversity in how masculinity is defined on the site
and Shine really knows how to shoot porn in a simple elegant way that
allows you to enjoy the action. It’s artsy, but you don’t forget what
you’re watching it for.

3. If you’re looking to forget about your problems for a bit, I must emphatically recommend Randall’s youtube video entitled: The Crazy Nastyass Honey Badger. I don’t see how you can watch this video without laughing. Remember, “honey badger don’t care.”

Sexual Violence and The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo

I ended up reading the The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. Friends
recommended it, my doctor was reading it, I’d been seeing it at the
airport bookstore for over a year and watched as it got progressively
cheaper. I finally broke down and bought it for in-flight entertainment.

I didn’t like it. (this is going to be a major spoiler, so if you want to read the book you might want to quit reading now)

The plot deals with two protagonists who uncover an intergenerational
murder mystery with two serial killers, both of which who have abused a
woman (daughter and sister to the murderers) who has been missing since
she was a teenager.

First, I should say that I don’t enjoy reading about sexual violence,
so my chances of liking the book were slim anyway, but I think what
really bothered me was that there was a lot of sex in the book but only
the sexual violence was described. A sexual assault on Lisbeth Salander,
one of the main characters, is described in detail for three pages, but
consensual sex had by a different main character, Mikael Blomkvist,
consists of,

“”If you still want me, let’s do it.” She looked at him again. Then
she got up and went over to the bedroom door. She dropped her jacket on
the floor and pulled her dress over her head as she went.”

Fans of crime novels would probably say if you want specifics of
consensual sex go read a romance novel or erotica. I know that
descriptions of sexual violence are the norm for the genre and TV shows
like Law and Order SVU.

I guess what I’m grappling with is the bigger question of: Why is
sexual violence so compelling and mainstreamed in our society to a point
where it’s on primetime and grandmas are reading novels about it on the
bus, when consensual, pleasurable sex is considered so shocking?

There’s a great documentary about the movie ratings system in America called This Film Is Not Yet Rated that asks the same question, but it never really answers it.

The other thing I will say about the book is that I would’ve enjoyed
it more if I felt that the character Lisbeth Salander had emerged from
her role as a victim and stepped into her own power. It was almost odd
how the author managed to have her do things like take revenge on her
abuser while still seeming like she would become the victim again at any
second. I don’t think this is necessarily unrealistic to how people
behave in life or experience victimization, I just personally found it
much less satisfying to read than something like one of the Sookie Stackhouse novels.

Sookie Stackhouse has experienced things that could have made her a
victim from childhood on, but she just never responds that way. Even
though there’s violence in all those books, Sookie remains powerful,
making them a much more satisfying read for me. I feel confident in
Sookie as a badass, and it sees me through the violence of the book. I’m
really curious if anyone else has read these books and feels similarly.
Do other people find Lisbeth Salander to be an empowered character?
It’s possible that she becomes more empowered over time, but the next
book starts with three pages of description of a strapped down thirteen
year old sex slave and I just couldn’t stomach it.

If you are someone who is super into crime genre books and movies I
want to know what you like about reading them and if reading about
sexual violence impacts you. I’m not judgy about it, I just know that I
get a gross feeling for days after I read that kind of book and I can
only assume that other people are getting a different, more fun feeling
from the experience.