Last summer, I picked up a copy of Lesbian Pulp Fiction: The Sexually Intrepid World of Lesbian Paperback Novels 1950-1965, edited by Katherine V. Forrest, who herself is the author of many lesbian novels, notably the Kate Delafield detective series. (Looking back at a list of her works, I got a glimpse of my own youth during the years I read lesbian novels voraciously. It’s a bit cringe-making, really. Blessedly I have forgotten much of what I read. lol)

The book was a lot of fun, with excerpts from dozens of lesbian pulp fiction books. Forrest did a brilliant job of editing, so we could enjoy the “good bits” without the rest of the dreck.

BTW, “pulp” novels were so-called because of the cheap paper they were printed on. They were the mid 20th-century equivalent of turn of the century “penny dreadfuls” and anything printed by Ace in the late 60’s-70’s. ^_^ Because I don’t feel like going on at length about the history, here’s the wikipedia reference on Lesbian Pulp Fiction. I strongly recommend you read this entry. It says anything I might say better than I could say it.

After reading the above book of excerpts, I decided to buy a whole pile of pulp to take with me to Mexico. The trashier, the better. I wanted to be sitting on the beach drinking colorful drinks and reading mid-20th century smut, much of which has been reprinted by Kensington. These books were the voracious reading of the previous generation of lesbians. Reading these books allowed me to experience the fascinating feeling of reaching back in time to touch not only the lives of the women in the books, but also the women you know furtively bought and read these when they were young and trying to figure out who they were.

Another Kind of Love, is a collection of two novels by Paula Christian, Another Kind of Love and Love is Where You Find It.

There’s a fair amount of self-loathing and homosexuality bashing in pulp novels because of course being gay is unnatural and a disease. But despite the supposedly “moral” endings of pulp novels, there seemed to be a whole lot of hope for these women. At least one book ended with the girl getting another girl that did not suck at all. Oh, sure, they smile bitterly at one another and guess that they’ll be together for a while, then probably want to kill each other, or worse, share their unnatural lives together forever, but it’s all a matter of perspective. I can see Laura and Madeline growing old, watching the world change around them, until these days when they’re stepping out of their midtown apartment to walk down to a LGBTQ rights rally, holding hands, their gray-haired heads held high.

Paula Christian’s characters are often working women, in a world where it was still a little strange for women have a career. (These two novels were originally published in 1961.) Dee is a photographer, Laura a journalist. They work with men, and sometimes for them, but are not wrapped up in the world of men. Sure, both Dee and Laura have crappy taste in women, at least at first but, duh, who doesn’t? Girlfriends are like tattoos – you almost never like your first one. ^_^ (That doesn’t apply to you, honey.)

The one thing that really, truly impressed me about all of the novels by Christian was her use of “voice.” None of the protagonists sounded like one another from novel to novel, and the characters within any given novel all had unique voices. It’s my single favorite quality in a writer. Her characters have depth; they are not perfect – often they are really annoying, but they are always human and real. Laura is wishy-washy and becomes an alcoholic (but gets herself together before the end.) Dee starts off in an abusive situation, then hurts a nice kid out of self-protection and heads into the next relationship with a sense of futility. All the experiences Christian describes are entirely truthful, even if they are fiction. This is the kind of fiction that authors get letters about that read, “You must have lived through this, because no one who hasn’t could know how it feels.” Even when they haven’t.

Paula Christian is a good writer, and this is a fascinating piece of American lesbian history. If you’re looking for brainless reading that’s actually quite intelligent, this collection is a good choice.

Ratings – Another Kind of Love:

Story – 6
Characters – 7
Yuri – 10
Service (because pulp novels were ostensibly for the underground, the creeps and the like) – 8

Overall – 7

Ratings – Love is Where You Find It:

Story – 6
Characters – 6
Yuri – 10
Service – 7

Overall – 6

“Laura” was the “Natsuki” or “Yuriko” of its time. It seems that every third lesbian pulp protagonist was named Laura or Beth. (Or both, if you’ve read Ann Bannon’s stuff.)

In preparing for my trip to Mexico, I stockpiled a bunch of trashy lesbian novels to take with me. One of the first was The Spanish Pearl by Catherine Friend.

The premise was simple – modern lesbian is transported back in time to 11th century Spain where she falls in love with a man who has a secret. The “secret” was not only obvious – it was stated plainly on the back of the book and in the description on Amazon. The “man” Kate falls in love with is really…gasp! shock!…a woman.

Okay, so I bought the book knowing this and thinking, cool, that would be the first few chapters and then there’d be a story. It was apparent about fifteen seconds after they met that “he” was a she, so I kept waiting for the rest of the story. Only, no, that WAS the story. The whole story. That was it. There was some violence (not enough) and some rape (plenty, thanks) and some internal and external medieval politics (about the right amount) but the main point was Kate figuring out slowly, painfully and awkwardly what any reader knew going into the book.

But you know, that wasn’t really that bad – just sort of “buh?” What was bad was Kate’s insistence on relating to the people around her in 21st century American terms. For instance, in one scene, she berates Louis for killing two men – two men who would have raped Kate, mind you. I would have been kissing Louis and kicking the corpses, but not Kate. She was furious that Louis stooped to violence instead of what – talking their way out of it? If this was day one in the story, I might have accepted it, but it was well into the story. And the reason they were in that situation was also Kate’s fault in the first place after several really bad decisions.

What was also sort of strange was Kate’s obsession about a child she met for less than an hour and her use of that child as an excuse to return to the future. And last, what tanked the book utterly for me was that there’s a sequel. The miserable girlfriend from the future comes back to the past to “rescue” Kate. Thanks. I’ll pass.

For fun, I often read Amazon reviews after I finish a book. To my shock everyone loved this book – they thought it funny and lyrical and a love letter to Spain. No one wrote, “I thought Kate was an ass.” Perhaps I should write a review there, because I totally did think that. ^_^;

On the positive side, Catherine Friend writes well. I don’t think I flinched at any portion of the book (as I did several times during my attempt to read another lesbian novel recently – whole sentences had me cringing. I gave up after the first chapter.) So for that alone, The Spanish Pearl is above average.

Ratings:

Story – 5
Characters – 5
Yuri – 9
Service – not on a bet, but the rape would suffice I imagine – 2

Overall – 5

If you aren’t looking for plot so much as a series of crises set around a relationship, it’s not really that bad a book. And with a blue ocean eating white sand, while you drink a brightly colored drink, you could definitely do worse. But you can also do better.

I know I’m not the only person to have marathoned a gazillion pulp novels and thought, “I gotta write me one of those.” But Alisa Surkis and Monica Nolan had an even better idea. They thought “I gotta write me ALL of those.” And so they did.

The Big Book of Lesbian Horse Stories is a completely unsubtle, totally over the top parody of every lesbian pulp plotline ever. From wartime barracks hijinks, to freckle-faced girls on the farm to the sleazy criminal underworld, with side trips into the depression dust bowl, the shtetl of the Lower East Side in New York and a new age womyn’s commune. And horses. Oh yes, every story includes a horse, sometimes under preposterous circumstances. All of the horses are beautiful in a nearly sexual way, except for Herschel the Wonder Horse who was definitely the best – and smartest – character in the book.

If you’re new to lesbian pulp novels, this book might not make a huge impression on you, but after reading some of the best of the breed (Women’s Barracks) and some of the silliest (Intimate Story of a Lesbian) you just know *exactly* what these authors are parodying.

I really can’t express how funny this book is, so I’m not going to try. I’m going to let it speak for itself. Here are a few choice quotes from some of the stories:

“Yes, I can be useful, woman though I am! Even because of the woman I am – a woman not like other women. But how not like other women – what kind of a woman am I? Will I meet other women like me, who can tell me what kind of a woman I am? Or will it be a woman unlike myself, who will show me what kind of woman I can be?”

“The whole car was stuffed so full of their belongings, the clothing, farm-tools and the bits of furniture they’d been able to take from the farm in Oklahoma after the bank foreclosed, that there was hardly any room for Ma, Pa, Uncle Jo-Jo, the five Budd children and Grandma Jennie.”

This story had the added charm of things like, “You won’t really understand dialectic materialism until you’ve heard it explained by Jack Rosenblum, who you may know as Pedro the Singing Bandit.”

And here’s Herschel the Wonder Horse, known as “Johhny Apple”: “…they had been selling fruit outside the yeshiva on 14th Street. Some of the young scholars were arguing over the Talmud, and one of them had quoted a passage incorrectly. He had paid no attention to Johnny Apple’s indignant snorts, and not until an overripe peach knocked his yarmulke off did he realize his error.”

Perhaps these don’t seem funny to you (especially the bits in, say, Yiddish) but I was laughing like a howler monkey. I read these, and many other lines out loud as we sat and stared at the Caribbean eat the spit of sand we were sitting on.

Book funny. Go read. And for heaven’s sake, please don’t take it seriously, like the first reviewer on the Amazon webpage did! It’s BROAD satire. Pun intended.

Ratings:

Overall – perfect beach reading.

You may recall that, this past February, I had the pleasure of spending the weekend with the folks from Prism Comics at New York Comic Con. One of the many cool people I had a chance to meet that weekend was author Ellen Kushner. I gave her a copy of my novel Shoujoai ni Bouken and, a few days after we spoke, I received a shiny new copy of her novel, Privilege of the Sword. I took it with me to Chicago and conveniently, it fits neatly into this week’s theme. :-)

The story follows a young woman, Katherine, as she is adopted into her uncle, the “Mad Duke”‘s household in place of lengthy and life-crushing lawsuits against her mother, the Duke’s sister. Immediately the Duke has her women’s clothes replaced with men’s and Katherine then begins to train as a swordswoman. But not out of choice. And not without resistance. Of course, she becomes a competent swordswoman…it would hardly be a fun novel if she sucked all the way through. (Although that might have made a funnier novel.) In the meantime, she comes of age in a household that is unusually free of the more typical sexual mores. In fact, the Duke, while bisexual, is well-known to prefer men. During the course of the narrative its implied that, as she comes of age and into herself, she will follow her “mad” uncle’s proclivities. In the end of the novel she’s with a man, but there’s no doubt in one’s mind that her best friend Artemisia would not be kicked out of bed. ^_^

So, what happens? Well, there’s politics and duels, intrigue and training and sex, and love and actresses and stalking and gingerbread. No religion, thank heavens. That would only complicate things. The end of the story is swift and painless, which is good because, given the setup, I was at a loss as to how it was going to end with anyone living happily ever after, much less all of them doing so. But fear not. ^_^

While Katherine may be bisexual, she in no way desires to be male (I’m not implying that these two things are in any way linked – it’s just a weak segue….) In the beginning she is *very* opposed to, and uncomfortable with, dressing as a man. If anything, she’s a pretty typical girl, who wants girl things including dresses and a noble suitor. In the same way, the Duke never wants her to pass as a boy, but quite openly tells people that she is his niece. (Although, exactly why he does this is never explained. By the end of the novel, one can put together some solid theories, but nothing is stated explicitly.) Early on in the story Katherine passes as a boy merely because she is wearing boy’s clothes and the person who mistakes her simply assumes that only a boy would wear those clothes. When the novel concludes, Katherine is apparently comfortable in both worlds, that of men and women, creating a nice balance between gender, sexuality and circumstance. I wouldn’t call this novel a “transgender” novel, but it absolutely does play with gender role and gender identity.

Privilege is part of a series, the whole of which I have not read. But one definitely does not need to have read the earlier novels to understand or enjoy this one. The time and place is a bit random – the clothes appear to be a mixture of French cavalier for the men and Regency for the women. The language too, has a tendency to wander between Regency novel and casual modern speech, with random visits to courtly, musketeer and pompous. But do NOT let this be seen as a detriment to the reader’s enjoyment. Since time and place are the author’s own creation, which shouldn’t the speech patterns be, as well? ^_^ (Towards the beginning, I found one particular exchange a little irritating and then had to laugh, because I remembered that I had done something almost identical in one of my own stories. So I shut up and kept reading. And let me clarify that I strongly dislike Regency novels, so the repartee – which is certainly witty – may appeal to others where it doesn’t to me.)

In her dedications at the end, Ellen says that this novel was written in pieces and, to a certain extent, it feels like it. The beginning is a little scattered, as if the direction of the story was still unclear. By halfway through the book, the characters have significantly solidified and by two thirds through, I found that I was reading much more quickly because I wanted to know what was going to happen!

I almost forgot – here’s today’s question for you. How many of my dear readers wear clothes more commonly associated with the opposite gender? I wear a suit and tie from time to time. ^_^

Ratings:

Story – 6
Characters – 7

Overall – 7

After it was pointed out by Donna, we all agreed that the woman on the cover looks remarkably like Callista Flockhart. ^_^