Last year, Rachel Hope Cleves published a book that was one of the most fascinating reads of my year. Charity and Sylvia: A Same-Sex Marriage in Early America is a detailed and precise account of two women, Charity Bryant and Sylvia Drake, and their lives together in the rapidly changing environment of early 19th century America.

Born into middle and working class homes, neither woman had a chance to be highly educated and both worked well into their late years as seamstresses But, despite less opportunity than we can imagine, the two made what can only be understood as a happy life together. They were, during their lifetime, regarded as a “married” couple by their families and the people in their town.

In the course of the book we discover that Charity was a bit of a player, but, as with so many other lesbians, she remained friendly with her exes. ^_^ Of the two, Charity took up the “man’s” role in the house, keeping their business running, signing contracts and making large decisions for the two of them, while Sylvia handled accounts for the home.

Cleves takes great pains to make a strong case for the two as lovers, not because it’s not obvious, but because the Victorian among us are so ridiculously persistent. As we encountered with Deborah Shamoon’s Passionate Friendship and Annalee Newitz’s recent io9 article on the Ladies of Llangollen, we’re always inundated with modern Victorian finger-wagging at that thought that two women writing love letters, sharing a bed and living together for decades cannot possibly be seen as a lesbian couple because they might not have had sex. As I replied to Ms. Newitz, I do not understand why it is not “wise” to look at a thing through Occam’s Razor. We don’t push ourselves through this kind of hoop for heterosexual marriages, why on earth would it be different for this one? These women wrote copious letters and there is epistolary testament to their having been lovers. It’s not conjecture. It’s time to accept that the duck is a duck. ^_^

Cleves removes all doubt by putting together a case that is all but unshakable.  Newitz makes the case that concept of “romance” was different in the 18th century, which is exactly why Cleve’s detailed and meticulous combing through written evidence is so critical. At first, as I read the testimonials and evidentiary writing, it appeared to me to be gilding the lily, but I quickly realized her intent was not to gild the obvious lily but to really make sure that the finger-waggers had as little space to tut-tut as possible. After today’s discussion on io9, I am both thankful and glad for her thoroughness on the issue.

While reading about the enormous difficulties of post-Revolutionary War life was interesting, the  toll deprivation, disease and market factors took on society was a bit of an eye-opener. As I frequently say, humans don’t change, only technology does and reading about the market crashes after the War, has convinced more than ever before that we are one hella stupid species.  ^_^

There was a lot of detail in the book about Charity and Sylvia’s lives, growing up with their families and their years together. I have to admit, I kind of want to visit the old girls next time I’m in the area and pay them my respects. They and I wouldn’t have seen eye to eye on religion, but I think I would have enjoyed having them over for lunch. ^_^

Ratings:

Overall – 9

Thank you, Rachel Hope Cleves for introducing me to Charity and Sylvia and they life they built together in Weybridge, Vermont.

This book is available in Hardcover print, Kindle and Audible audio editions.

Coming Out Letters (カミングアウト・レターズ)、edited by Sunagawa Hideki and RYOJI, is a collection of correspondences between gays/lesbians and their parents or teachers and the responses. Chapters begin with the lesbian or gay person writing about the circumstances in which they came out to their parent or teacher – about aborted attempts, fears, and consequences

In the first 2/3 of the book,we encounter a variety of emotions on both sides – confusion, fear, acceptance and love. In almost all cases, mothers were quicker to accept their children, and while a few fathers were initially not accepting, in every case, the family found their way back to each other. Especially touching are the correspondences between a performance artist and her awesome mom, a young man whose mother accompanied him to Pride parades and cooked for his friends and a story relayed by one of the editors of a young man, initially rejected by his father, but who eventually was able to accept his son, and be there when he married his husband.

The final third of the book are letters by former students telling former teachers about moments which were, for the students, a coming out, even if the teacher missed it. Of these, the most interesting is a teacher who expresses understanding of a student because he is a Christian, which is a small minority in Japan. Being a member of a misunderstood minority has made him completely accepting of her choices.

This is followed by a lovely group talk between parents about their experiences and a final note to people considering coming out. (Summary – whether you do, or not, the choice you make right now is the right choice for you right now.)

***

Enjoy today’s post? Subscribe to Okazu with Patreon!

***

Letters are footnoted with explanations of LGBTQ terminology and media mentioned, which strongly reminded me how honestly important to non-gay people decent media representation of gay people is. We fear most what we are unfamiliar with. You may or may not care that Ellen Degeneres or Anderson Cooper is gay, but when people who do not know they know gay people learn about famous, successful people who are gay, it familiarizes them with the idea that it’s not an invitation to a miserable, lonely life of self-loathing.

My number one takeaway from this book is, honestly, if you remove the fear of rejection associated with coming out, gay people are pretty damn boring. ^_^ We’re forced to make a crisis out of what for straight people is just growing up and falling in lust and love. (Not that that isn’t a crisis for some straight folks, too…) But when parents get over their fears and confusions, they find their children are still their children and children learn their parents are way more amazing than they expected.

Ratings:

Overall – 8

This isn’t a riveting read for a casual reader, but if you wanted a overview of Gay and Lesbian life in Japan right now, or were studying LGBTQ Japanese culture I’d recommend this book completely.