Class Blog

On “Queer Melancholy.” Did I Create Something Pointless? Perhaps, But That’s What Makes it Fun!

The last paragraph of Brokeback Mountain by Annie Proulx reads as follows: “There was some open space between what he knew and what he tried to believe but nothing could be done about it, and if you can’t fix it you’ve got to stand it” (55).  This paragraph is the perfect melancholy end to a melancholy story. Throughout Brokeback Mountain Annie Proulx rejects strong emotions generally. At least, with regards to the situation Jack and Ennis find themselves in. The reader is presented time and time again with language that suggests that while Ennis is not happy with his current life, he also doesn’t truly wish to change it. Whether it be from fear or what the reader might consider internalized homophobia Ennis is content to live a life in the middle of happiness and sadness.

This emotional state is exemplified in the final paragraph. We find the character attempting to reconcile the “space between what he knew and […] tried to believe” suggesting that while Ennis knows he handled his relationship with Jack poorly, and he has regrets, he also knows that he can’t change the past. That what is done is done, and that he must instead stand the whirlwind of emotions which consume him.

It here where I will potentially coin a third emotion which is discussed in this course, rather than “Queer Joy” or “Queer Anger” Ennis Del Mar exemplifies “Queer Melancholy” an emotional response which exists when one remembers the experience of Queer Joy, and feels Queer Anger yet is unable to do anything about the later or re-encounter the former.

In this Annie Proulx makes strong commentary about Queer Life in the so-called “fly over states.” A life which allows for small moments of Queer Joy, but with no course for retribution when those joys are violently ripped from one’s life.

 

We’re All Tryin’ to Figure Out if We’re —.

I’m glad you filled in the blank, but are you?

Author of Brokeback Mountain, Edna Ann Proulx, is begging something of us as readers. I propose that the argument woven throughout the text is the internalization of fear, in this case, queer fear. By saying this, I want to outwardly state that my definition of “queer fear” is not homophobia. Rather, “queer fear” coins itself as a moment of dread felt by someone who may or may not identity as queer themselves. And I hear the sigh already, “okay babes, the main characters in Brokeback Mountain never call themselves gay, why is that a big deal”? And to that I say, “exactly”.

Some textual points I would like to expand upon can easily be recognized starting as early as page fifteen. After Jack and Ennis have intimate and sensual sex, Ennis interjects “I’m not no queer”, to which Jack responds “Me neither. A one-shot thing. Nobody’s business but ours” (Proulx 15). I would like to propose that here, queer fear catches up with the reality of their situation. While having sex, Jack and Ennis are not exactly worried with being perceived as queer. However, once they have finished, outside societal pressures creep their way back into their consciousnesses. This happens again, four years later, after each have their own wife and kids, as well. After having sex (again, surprise!), Ennis again states, “You know, I was sittin up here all that time tryin to figure out if I was—? I know I ain’t” (Proulx 26). After stating this, he expands and says, “I mean here we both got wives and kids, right?” (Proulx 26). Ennis, in my reading, is controlled by the fear of being perceived as queer, which is jarring and gutting in its own right.

In Brokeback Mountain, I would argue that queer fear originates in social context, here being driven by the requirement to fit in socially. However for Ennis, the need to fit in socially derives from early childhood trauma, seeing Earl, killed for the notion of being queer (Proulx 29). This ultimately catches up and manifests itself more seriously in hearing Jack has passed away. Though Jack is never explicitly murdered, for Ennis, fear has now embedded itself so deeply, that he wholeheartedly believes that Jack was murdered.

This leads me back to my title. We’re all trying to figure out what we are, only if it fits though. We have an understanding of how we’re perceived, in the same breathe, we also have the ability to filter certain facets of our identities for what is most palatable for others. Some of us, for job interviews to look more presentable, but for some, driven by queer fear.

Hope I’m useful,

Jay Walker <3

Eli Clare and Intersectionality

I’d like to take this opportunity to return to Eli Clare, specifically his chapter, “Losing Home” as he touches upon a critically important aspect of Queer Identity. That is, the idea that one never truly belongs:

 

“Before I left, I was a rural, mixed-class, queer child in a straight, rural, working-class town. Afterwards, I was an urbantransplanted, mixed-class, dyke activist in an urban, mostly middleclass, queer community. Occasionally I simply feel as if I’ve traded one displacement for another and lost home to boot” (Clare, 17).

 

In these sentences, Clare lists several of the puzzle pieces that come together to form one’s Identity. Here Clare gives an opening to the intersectionality of identity, and the impact those have on one another. Especially for people who have conflicting identities as Clare does. He is queer but also feels comfortable in rural settings. He is mixed class but can only find the queer support he desires in middle-class communities. Thus, in order to feel accepted in one way Clare must sacrifice in another.

In this, the author presents the reader with one of the more challenging aspects of Identity: its intersectional nature. One’s socio-economic status, sexual orientation, gender identity, and race all contribute to our understanding of ourselves. In this section, Clare attempts to understand and work through his struggles with different aspects of his Identity. Lamenting that he struggles to find spaces that allow for both his queerness and his desire for rurality.

Writing such as this is important. It creates space for readers to consider these conflicts in their own lives and understanding of themselves. By describing his struggle with Identity Clare normalizes it, and says “It’s okay to feel this way, because I did too.” Thus elevating himself as a Queer Elder and as an example of survival and acceptance. It is only through talking about our struggles that we can create a better path for future generations.

I’m Not Queer…. Or Am I?

In the short story “Brokeback Mountain,” both Jack and Ennis grapple with their identities. As early on as after the first time they have sex, they are trying to deny that it happened. “…once Ennis said, ‘I’m not no queer!’ and Jack jumped in with, ‘Me neither. A one-shot thing. Nobody’s business but ours.'” To me, it is clear that these men feel guilty about the acts they have just committed, as it is very abnormal and out of the ordinary for where they are and “people like them,” hence all the gay cowboy stereotypes.

This perspective on queerness led me to a book I’ve been reading recently, Lies We Tell Ourselves by Robin Talley. This is a young adult novel centered on Sarah, a Black girl grappling with integrating into a new, all-white school in the 1950s, and Linda, a white girl struggling to steer away from the views that have been instilled into her and see Sarah as a human being rather than just another Black person. One of the constant themes of the book is Sarah going to great lengths to hide her sexuality, even, at times, trying to deny it to herself because “it’s not Christian.” She even dates a boy named Ennis for a period of time to try and convince herself she is actually straight. she says at the end of her first date with Ennis, “This should be the easiest, most natural thing in the world. Going on a date with a boy. Maybe if I try hard enough it will be.”

Both of these texts use these characters’ denial as a way to bring awareness to the stigmas around queerness surrounding the different characters and the societies they are living in. While on the surface, a high-school girl grappling with integration has nothing to do with an uneducated cowboy, they share the commonality of what could be if they only admitted it to themselves, but the fear of the future. The fear of being judged. Of not being perceived as good people anymore by those they trust and love. They bring another raw, human aspect to what it means to be queer, and what it means to fit that into the other parts of your identity.

~written by SilverFlute

Finally, an Author That Speaks My Language (Why I Love Driskill and Their Rage More Than Any Other Writer in This Class)

Content Warning: Brief mentions of suicide

For Matthew

I have died too many deaths that were not mine.
Audre Lorde

I have found my body collapsible,
choking on your death
like a small child who seeks to understand
by stuffing pennies and marbles into mouth.

It reverberates across the continent,
fallout from an old, old story.
How when they found you,
at first they thought you were a scarecrow
crucified on a Wyoming fence.

In Seattle, 1000 lit candles.
(I wanted the city to burn.)

In San Francisco, a rainbow flag hung half-mast.
(I wanted earth to split open.)

In DC, the president finally spoke.
(I wanted screams to shatter glass.)

In Laramie, they wore armbands.
(I wanted a revolution.)

Thousands upon thousands say NeverAgain, NeverAgain.
(I don’t want to remember you as symbol.)

We have no more time for symbols.
We have no more time for vigils.
We have no more time

because when I started writing
this poem for you, Matthew,

you were still alive.

 

In memoriam: Matthew Shepard

 

 

Dear Reader,

I’m angry again.

I am angry with those who aren’t angry.

Nothing pisses me off more than someone with no rage in their heart.

They must be blind.

I don’t give a rat’s ass about candles or rainbow flags or speeches given by limp dicked politicians or armbands or chants.

They’re killing us.

The Trevor Project. (2022). 2022 National Survey on LGBTQ Youth Mental Health. https://www.thetrevorproject.org/survey-2022/assets/static/trevor01_2022survey_final.pdf

They’re fucking driving our kids to despair and suicide.

I don’t give a rat’s ass about candles or rainbow flags or speeches given by limp dicked politicians or armbands or chants.

This shit needs to burn.

I want to watch those who’ve made me suffer to be brutalized, to be made to pay for their sins, to make sure that they never hurt anyone again.

You know what I don’t want to do?

HAVE A FUCKING CONVERSATION WITH THEM!

I DON’T GIVE A RAT’S ASS ABOUT CANDLES OR RAINBOW FLAGS OR SPEECHES GIVEN BY LIMP DICKED POLITICIANS OR ARMBANDS OR CHANTS!!!

WATCHING MY FRIENDS TRY TO USE THE MASTER’S TOOLS TO DISMANTLE THE MASTER’S HOUSE FUCKING INFURIATES ME!

AMERICA DOESN’T HAVE A CONSCIENCE!

IT DOESN’T HAVE A SOUL!

IT DOESN’T GIVE A SHIT THAT MY KIN ARE DYING!

THE ONLY WAY FOR US TO SAVE OURSELVES IS TO FIGHT BACK!

FOR US TO BURN CITIES TO RUBBLE!

FOR US TO SPLIT THE EARTH OPEN!

FOR US TO SCREAM LOUD ENOUGH TO SHATTER GLASS!

FOR US TO REVOLT!

our kin are dying, facing genocide, and I can’t be anything but angry

Driskill is the one author we’ve read who understands this.

Driskill makes a similar point in Pedagogy.

“What does this classroom have to do with you anyway?
What does it have to do with any of us?” (Driskill Pedagogy)

Every day I have to hear about the shit that goes on outside of our classroom and I have to ask myself, when I’m going to class in the morning, “What does it have to do with any of us?”

I’ve come to the answer that it has very little to do with me.

Yours With Blood and Rage of Crimson Red,

Carmine “Red” Zingiber

Language and Identity

I have been really thinking about this idea, of what it really means to put language to an identity. Especially how it signifies, symbolizes, and gets used. This thought also renders me quite a predicament when language isn’t used to label identity, and rather abandons it all together. Without the use of language, can we still rely on simple experiences to explain our identity? In Annie Proix’s, Brokeback Mountain, Ennis and Jack have just had their first sexual encounter “Without saying anything about it both knew how it would go for the rest of the summer, sheep be damned” (15). Here, words seem to cease from their vocabulary and yet with this line it insinuates that both Jack and Ennis will continue on their sexual escapades. I also found this to be an almost comedic approach to lessen the sexual  tension between the two. Rather than admit to the enjoyment of each other’s company, instead they recognize their future failure to uphold their duties as sheep herders. 

Following this, in a conversation between Jack and Ennis, “Ennis said ‘I’m not no queer,’ and Jack jumped in with ‘Me neither. A one-shot thing. Nobody’s business but ours… They believed themselves invisible” (15). In reading this exchange between the two, I couldn’t help but re-read this section over and over again. After having read the two having sex together initially, and more and more taking risks each time – I had to ask myself is this maybe not queer? Ennis would definitely say he is not gay, but the actions he takes would convince us otherwise. Does having “queer” sex make us queer? Taking a deeper look, “queer” in the context for myself as I read over this line, is probably much different than how “queer” for Ennis would look like. It reminded me of how Eli Clare had examined language with explicit vs implicit definitions. “Queer” in a sense for Ennis might possibly represent something so obscure from his identity that it makes it hard for him to acknowledge it as his own. This framework also related me to this idea of  Halberstam’s “metronormativity” where it is believed that being LGBTQ is only appropriate and safe for the cities, and where rurality ceases the cultivation of these experiences. However, I think even as Jack and Ennis claim their heterosexuality on the mountain – the connection that they have been able to find on Brokeback mountain supports this greater claim that queer life can exist and flourish in rurality. It may be because of the “rurality” of the mountain that allows them to explore what “queer” means for them.

 

Brokeback Mountain Close Reading

“’Well, see you around, I guess.’ The wind tumbled an empty feed bag down the street until it fetched up under his truck. ‘Right,’ said Jack, and they shook hands, hit each other on the shoulder, then there was forty feet of distance between them and nothing to do but drive away in opposite directions. Within a mile Ennis felt like someone was pulling his guts out hand over hand a yard at a time. He stopped at the side of the road and, in the whirling new snow, tried to puke but nothing came up. He felt about as bad as he ever had and it took a long time for the feeling to wear off” (Prouix 18).

In this passage, Jack and Ennis are about to go their separate ways after giving in to their sexual feelings towards one another. The situation is a bit awkward because they never know if they are going to see one another again, and neither is willing to acknowledge that they want to. They clearly have not admitted to themselves that there is anything more going on than purely physical attraction, but this passage highlights the moment where Ennis’ body betrays his feelings. The situation that Proulx is describing is relatable to those who have had intense romantic feelings for someone. The nausea that Ennis is experiencing is a physical representation of his conflicting emotions. He wants to stay with Jack and not drive away, although neither of them will admit it. He also knows that it is incredibly dangerous for them to be together because of the homophobia in their community. Hence, he feels as though he is being turned inside out, like “someone was pulling his guts out hand over hand a yard at a time”. It’s a heartbreaking feeling that Proulx expresses simply and eloquently.

These words also serve to draw the reader in and wonder what will become of Jack and Ennis’ relationship. I think that this passage is one of the most meaningful in the story, because of how visceral it is. I can relate to the intensity of the emotion, even though I do not identify with the characters, which made the story all the more interesting from there on out. The awkwardness between the two characters was particularly compelling, and their curt handshake after sharing such intimacy drove home the point that they are conflicted.

Proulx uses such plain language but still manages to gut the reader when she needs to. Her masterful use of sparse dialogue in this case helped me understand how devastating the situation is for these two men. Because they cannot express their true emotions or talk in-depth about their relationship, the goodbye is incredibly unemotional on the surface level but harbors some depth when put in context with the rest of the story.

Proulx’s expert use of dialogue and plain language allows the reader to begin to understand the full scope of Jack and Ennis’ emotions surrounding their new relationship. As a reader, I truly felt for Ennis in this moment, and I could easily relate to his physical emotional response as I too have had my heart broken before. Even without specific confirmation of their deep emotional bond, the two of them manage to break the reader’s heart all over again in this passage.

Let People be People in the Mountains

The way time was structured in Brokeback Mountain was both rushed and savored, where long periods of time could pass by in a paragraph, but moments could last pages. Time seemed to structure itself around the things that were important to Jack and Ennis, skipping over their married lives but reveling in their moments of intimacy. Halberstam in In a Queer Time and Place writes, “Queer uses of time and space develop, at least in part, in opposition to the institutions of family, heterosexuality, and reproduction,” (1). In the beginning, when Proulx sets the scene of the mountain and the sheep and their daily tasks, it reminded me of queer time, of a place that existed outside regular societal time constraints. Perhaps they didn’t intend to carve out queer time for themselves, were ready to subscribe to marriage, normativity, and had no such fascinations with men. Either way, they ended up separated from everything but nature and each other, acting on base instincts—eating, sleeping, and roaming– which is how they came to discover their desire or one another. They found their own queer time on the mountain. Proulx writes, “There were only the two of them on the mountain flying in the euphoric, bitter air, looking down on the hawk’s back and the crawling lights of vehicles on the plain below, suspended above ordinary affairs and distant from tame ranch dogs barking in the dark hours,” (15). The emphasis is on their isolation, on their actions that are nobody else’s business, on an existence outside of expectations and prejudice, where all that mattered was their desire and care for each other. 

Queer time seems to manifest a lot in nature, in isolation. I found Jack and Ennis’ relationship interesting in this respect, where they had such little hesitation about their couplings, as if operating on base instincts. The first time they had sex, Proulx writes, “nothing he’d [Ennis] done before but no instruction manual needed,” (14). This implies a certain naturalness to queerness, like what we discussed regarding queer ecology. Very relevant to Brokeback Mountain, Sandilands writes, “ Gide’s Corydon…pursued the idea that the homosexual activities of boy-shepherds represented a more authentic and innocent sexuality than the heterosexual conventions they needed to learn in order to enter into adult relations of heterosexuality,” (169). Whether we need scientific precedence to validate queerness or not, letting people be people in the mountains certainly seems to imply that being gay is not in fact something unnatural at all. I had never thought before about the relationship between queerness and nature, but now I see there seems to be an almost inseparable connection, where queerness is a return to base instincts, to nature, to something that can exist peacefully outside the restraints of a chronobiologically organized life. I feel certain that they would never have experienced this kind of love without the space and time Brokeback Mountain offered them, and I wonder what kind of lives people could lead on their own mountains, away from tire irons and loveless marriages. 

if you can’t fix it you’ve gotta stand it

Eli Clare’s dilemma of queer identity existing in rural spaces is a topic that Annie Proulx’s Brokeback Mountain addresses. Although Jack and Ennis both deny the label of “queer” as well as any other word that encompasses an identity other than heterosexual, they both undoubtedly are – queer, that is. Their rejection of the word comes from their fear of naming what’s between them. As Jack says, “Nobody’s business but ours” (Proulx 15). Clare’s statement that he couldn’t “live easily and happily that isolated from queer community” (Clare 34) doesn’t apply to Jack and Ennis because they aren’t aware that such a community exists. They never mention outright what they talk about when they talk about it (which is not often), but they do eventually acknowledge that there is something between them: “‘Shit. I been lookin at people on the street. This happen a other people? What the hell do they do?’ ‘It don’t happen in Wyomin and if it does I don’t know what they do, maybe go to Denver,’ said Jack…This ain’t no little thing that’s happenin here’” (Proulx 30). Even if they have an inkling that things might be easier somewhere else, they both won’t consider the thought of moving together. At least Ennis doesn’t, because even as he is admitting his attachment to Jack in the only way he can, he accepts it as a fact of rural life: “I goddamn hate it that you’re goin a drive away in the mornin and I’m going back to work. But if you can’t fix it you got a stand it” (Proulx 30). This sentiment is echoed at the end of the story when Ennis is reflecting on their relationship after dreaming about Jack. He says there’s “open space between what he knew and what he tried to believe” (Proulx 55). I think Ennis’s use of the term “open space” refers to both his internal understanding of what they had and also to the open space of Brokeback mountain. They never go back to the mountain, and part of their belief is that they can only exist together in peace on that mountain. Jack wants to build a life with Ennis even if he doesn’t understand how it could work, while Ennis doesn’t see how they can “fix” what’s between them or how other people may react to it, so he just “stands” it. So instead of the rural and the metropolitan identities of queer people mixing, it’s the rurality of Jack and Ennis’s relationship that allows them the freedom to be together but also is made dangerous by other people.

What if a queer communal “we”-feeling instead of a “me”-feeling could be our key in order to find our way to our true “me” and survive

One thing that really stuck in my head from Tara Houska’s text is the principle of living a “we”- instead of a “me”-life. As Houska describes, Western Society mostly lives in a world of individualism that mostly operates on “me” instead of “we”, also regarding the climate movements (214). Houska also offers options on how to reconnect with the “we”, namely by returning to humility, recognizing our fragility and our role in the wider, interconnected net of nature, including empathy, courage and respect (218).

I think queer communities hold the power to reconnect us with each other and create a “we”-feeling instead of operating as “me”-individuals. Further, I think that by experiencing and living a “we”-life, we can reclaim our true individual self, a “me” that many queer people had to lose on the way or hide due to the expectations and norms society presses us into.

As we talked about in one of our class discussions, being together and having a community (the “we”) can help us reclaiming our bodies (and therefore finding ourselves, the “me”). This can also be seen in Brokeback Mountain, where Ennis and Jack were able to use the mountain as their safe space where they could simply exist. For short periods of time, they were able to form a “we”, even though they never verbalized it, connecting their bodies where words have failed them, overcoming the restriction of not being able to form a personal connection (a “we”) that society imposes upon them. On page 17, Proulx writes “As they descended the slope Ennis felt he was in a slow-motion, but headlong, irreversible fall”. I interpreted this as the double-meaning of on one side slowly starting to “fall” for Jack, and on the other hand falling out of the “normal picture” he was trying to uphold of himself “down there” (in town). Some aspect about him seems to have changed on that mountain, and while in the safe space of the mountains it didn’t matter, it does seem to matter “down there” in the real world, where society and its expectations are portrayed on Ennis.

I know these are two very different situations, but I can relate to that feeling of coming “back to reality” after you had a break/ an escape from it by temporarily moving to another place. Especially the aspect of having changed personally while being gone and the unsureness of how to fit back into the “old” world is something I experienced before. Whenever I come back from college to my parents’ house, I struggle with who I am, because I have changed so much regarding my identity and became more open and proud of who I am at college, but once I am back home I struggle to implement these aspects of “me” and instead I tend to slide back into old patterns and “my old role”. It sometimes feels as if I get to “reinvent” myself and “play a new role” whenever I start at a new place, but then once I’m back “home” I have those many fragments of “me”, different roles, and it’s incredibly tough to combine them.

I think having that “we”-feeling of community might support me in ultimately finding the real and “full” “me”-feeling as well, instead of trying desperately to puzzle all those different fragments of “me” that I have collected over the years together. If I had a “we”-community around me that supports me, there would be no need for different versions of “me” (each version trying to conform to the picture the respective person has of me) which would result in the true and real “me” being able to finally become “me” because the pressure of conformity to things that are not mutually conformable would be gone. This is why I think that we first need a communal “we”-feeling instead of a “me”-feeling in order to find our way to our true “me” and survive.