Author: Arvin Otic

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.

 

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.

The last paragraph of Eli Clare’s “Stones in my pockets, stones in my heart” is beautiful.  The author presents language regarding acceptance, not only of one’s own differences but how those aspects of identity unite members of the broader Queer Community. Clare begins by saying he will be sitting on a wall with his legs dangling over big smooth stones. How he will be sitting with a variety of different groups who identify as Queer (159). The focus of the paragraph on the stores that evolve for their queerness rather than their identity itself:

“Laugh and cry and tell stories. Sad stories about bodies stolen, bodies no longer here. Enraging stories about false images, devastating lies, untold violence. Bold, brash stories about reclaiming our bodies and changing the world” (159-160).

Clare chooses to begin each of these sentences with words that define the feelings of the stories. They are allowed to be happy, sad, or enraging. In this, the author presents us with a range of tales about identity. Clare understands, and tells the reader, that to understand one’s identity all different kinds of emotions must be acknowledged. Rather than only giving credence to the happy stories, to the moments of queer joy, Eli Clare chooses to tell all the stories about the process of understanding his identity, and by extension invites the reader to do the same.

The author also legitimizes a range of acceptable responses. Clare and his group of storytellers are going to both laugh and cry. The latter being an emotional response that is typically considered socially unacceptable, especially among men. Thus, he further defies heteronormative gender roles.

By putting the actions “laugh”, “cry”, and “tell stories” together in the same sentence with the word “and” in between each Clare allows them to exist both together, and as their own perfectly acceptable possibilities. Clare and his people are not only going to laugh, cry, and tell stories but also laugh and cry while telling stories. Clare opens space for all of these vulnerabilities to exist together and separately.

Perhaps the reader and our class should consider this queer joy. It is the ability to be oneself without care for social stigma and expectations.

 

 

 

 

This blog post will focus on the letter from the Narrator to Louise on page 105. Specifically, the following lines, “You are safe in my home but not my arms. If I stay it, will be you who goes, in pain, without help. Our love was not meant to cost you your life. I can’t bear that. If it could be my life, I would gladly give it.” (Winterson, 105). The opening line of the section demonstrates the powerlessness and impotence the Narrator feels in their current situation. The line implies the only way they are valuable is as a provider of housing but not as a partner or source of comfort. This feeling is perpetuated in the second line with the opening and close words, “If I stay” and “without help.” The Narrator works under the assumption that the only way one can be helpful to someone afflicted with cancer is by providing medical treatment. They ignore the possibility that their emotional support is just as valuable as anything Western Medicine can provide.

In the final three sentences the Narrator creates their excuse for leaving. They perpetuate the idea that they must abandon Louise for her to survive. This is exemplified in the third sentence with the use of the words, “Our love” and “your life.” This sentence could be written as “We should not cost you.” That the separation of the two, and destruction of “we” is necessary for the survival of Louise.

The last two lines are a confession of the Narrator’s feelings, “I can’t bear that.” (105). Rather than handle the messy aspects of a relationship they would rather leave. Even after Louise had already states she will under no circumstances go back to Elgin, the Narrator feels it is necessary for her to do exactly that because they “can’t bear” to be the person Louise relies on. These lines attempt to make a selfish decision seem selfless. They suggest that the Narrator chooses to leave out of fear rather than sacrifice.