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rmMarriage, for being the Hot Gay Issue of the moment, is actually horribly complicated, horribly uncomfortable. We've wound up in a position where almost all of us are lobbying for something we feel at least marginally conflicted about. Some of us worry about a loss of gay culture as if marriage will tame and suburbanize not just us, but our history. Others just feel grateful to have so long avoided the stresses heterosexual couples face regarding relationship milestones, and don't know what impact they may have on those relationships going forward. I wonder, certainly, if marriage would be the hot issue if health insurance in this country wasn't so tied to it.
I grew up knowing two things about marriage: that it was mystical and that as a girl it meant success. And I do mean mystical literally -- I've a father obsessed with religion, with faith and he talked constantly about such things at home, about gnosticism, about alchemy. Had these topics been approached with more deliberateness or organization it would have been a great intellectual boon to my childhood, but instead it was mostly awkward, like talking about sex or politics inappropriately at a dinner party.
Marriage, in the convolutions of my family, was so important that it was the subject of lies. I was raised to know that my parents marriage was the first for both of them and was lectured constantly to never have sex before marriage even in the long years where I never knew any boys. I recall telling my mother I was insulted by the speeches when I was twelve. "I don't know any boys and I'm ugly, so you needn't worry." I said it so clinically she couldn't think of a response.
When I was nineteen in an argument with my father he told me I reminded him of his ex-wife, and when I gaped at him, he merely assured me that there were no children from the marriage. I don't know what my mother knows about it, and I only learnt the name of this woman, from a cousin, last year.
You would think, in the face of all this sloppy madness, I would be more sensible about marriage, more clear, but that is hardly the case. When I was barely twenty and fucking a man twice my age, I dreamed of our future life off-shore (this, a long story involving dot.com fantasies) and the five sons I would give him: Julien, Gabriel, Philip, Martin and Daniel; I have had a long partiality to the names of angels, the names of saints. In my mind I would wear long dresses and be solitary and full of knowing sadness. Why I thought I had to have these children to be like that, I can no longer recall.
Of course, I got older and became marginally more sensible but no less sloppy, getting engaged and then un-engaged to a more suitable man at twenty-four, and then arguing mercilessly about marriage and agenda with Michael on and off for years. That is a story I don't know how to recount with accuracy; it seems strange to say, but it is hard to remember now. I did know he was status though -- the big man with the broad shoulders -- and I knew the way other women looked at me when I was with him. Similarly, I knew the way I looked at him with other women. I had surrendered mysticism to politics, and this is the way all myths go sour. I learnt that no one wants a freaky bisexual artist chick with tattoos to be the mother of their children. I know now that my sense of the political in personal life can be as suffocating as that throwaway disregard.
And so it is very hard and quite strange to be a loud noisy voice when it comes to gay marriage. I know that I find the idea of being a wife sexy - for it is possession and worth, it is being chosen, and whether you like it or not, it is being owned, it is a girl being told she is finally pretty enough, finally pleasing enough. Thankfully, I also find the idea of having a wife to be nearly irresistible - for it is loyalty and responsibility and a quiet, secret specialness. I want to get down on one knee before fairy lights and ask for the honor. I do. Even as I know, entering into marriage more practically seems these days to be the product of a series of awkward discussions and mundane concerns; perhaps that is less toxic. I don't know.
My narratives of marriage aren't just grand, but also problematic. More than that, when have I ever asked the government to give me permission to tell a story. When have I ever asked anyone? Not in a long time, and that's important to me.
The legalization of gay marriage in the U.S. is a critical civil rights issue, and of significant importance for all sorts of reasons crass, morbid or mundane: inheritance and tax filings, health insurance and custody rights. But it seems strange to fight so hard for something I'm so aware of the utter illusions of, that seems likely to radically alter the gay culture that nurtured me from the time I was a teenager, and that seems likely to cause some very rough times for some otherwise exceptionally solid couples.
You want to know what the gay agenda is? It's a lot of us feeling like we have to keep our ambivalence and inner-conflicts about the marriage issue secret.
I grew up knowing two things about marriage: that it was mystical and that as a girl it meant success. And I do mean mystical literally -- I've a father obsessed with religion, with faith and he talked constantly about such things at home, about gnosticism, about alchemy. Had these topics been approached with more deliberateness or organization it would have been a great intellectual boon to my childhood, but instead it was mostly awkward, like talking about sex or politics inappropriately at a dinner party.
Marriage, in the convolutions of my family, was so important that it was the subject of lies. I was raised to know that my parents marriage was the first for both of them and was lectured constantly to never have sex before marriage even in the long years where I never knew any boys. I recall telling my mother I was insulted by the speeches when I was twelve. "I don't know any boys and I'm ugly, so you needn't worry." I said it so clinically she couldn't think of a response.
When I was nineteen in an argument with my father he told me I reminded him of his ex-wife, and when I gaped at him, he merely assured me that there were no children from the marriage. I don't know what my mother knows about it, and I only learnt the name of this woman, from a cousin, last year.
You would think, in the face of all this sloppy madness, I would be more sensible about marriage, more clear, but that is hardly the case. When I was barely twenty and fucking a man twice my age, I dreamed of our future life off-shore (this, a long story involving dot.com fantasies) and the five sons I would give him: Julien, Gabriel, Philip, Martin and Daniel; I have had a long partiality to the names of angels, the names of saints. In my mind I would wear long dresses and be solitary and full of knowing sadness. Why I thought I had to have these children to be like that, I can no longer recall.
Of course, I got older and became marginally more sensible but no less sloppy, getting engaged and then un-engaged to a more suitable man at twenty-four, and then arguing mercilessly about marriage and agenda with Michael on and off for years. That is a story I don't know how to recount with accuracy; it seems strange to say, but it is hard to remember now. I did know he was status though -- the big man with the broad shoulders -- and I knew the way other women looked at me when I was with him. Similarly, I knew the way I looked at him with other women. I had surrendered mysticism to politics, and this is the way all myths go sour. I learnt that no one wants a freaky bisexual artist chick with tattoos to be the mother of their children. I know now that my sense of the political in personal life can be as suffocating as that throwaway disregard.
And so it is very hard and quite strange to be a loud noisy voice when it comes to gay marriage. I know that I find the idea of being a wife sexy - for it is possession and worth, it is being chosen, and whether you like it or not, it is being owned, it is a girl being told she is finally pretty enough, finally pleasing enough. Thankfully, I also find the idea of having a wife to be nearly irresistible - for it is loyalty and responsibility and a quiet, secret specialness. I want to get down on one knee before fairy lights and ask for the honor. I do. Even as I know, entering into marriage more practically seems these days to be the product of a series of awkward discussions and mundane concerns; perhaps that is less toxic. I don't know.
My narratives of marriage aren't just grand, but also problematic. More than that, when have I ever asked the government to give me permission to tell a story. When have I ever asked anyone? Not in a long time, and that's important to me.
The legalization of gay marriage in the U.S. is a critical civil rights issue, and of significant importance for all sorts of reasons crass, morbid or mundane: inheritance and tax filings, health insurance and custody rights. But it seems strange to fight so hard for something I'm so aware of the utter illusions of, that seems likely to radically alter the gay culture that nurtured me from the time I was a teenager, and that seems likely to cause some very rough times for some otherwise exceptionally solid couples.
You want to know what the gay agenda is? It's a lot of us feeling like we have to keep our ambivalence and inner-conflicts about the marriage issue secret.
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no subject
Date: 2008-02-08 03:53 am (UTC)From a state point of view, the changes are minimal - if any. There is no real need to put a checkbox for straight or gay on a marriage certificate. Tax filings, inheritance, social security , et all are just things where you fill in the name(s) and sign the papers. It would not even require severe changes in the forms.
On the other hand, every objection I've ever heard to gay marriage is rooted in religion. " It ain't natural .. goes 'gainst Gods way " and other Huckabee-esque things. To this I say what I say to every religious zealot who wishes to impress their beliefs on others : if you don't like it , and your religion doest not allow it - then don't do it. The fact that your religion does not allow for it does not give you the right to force that on people who do not follow your system of beliefs. This country was founded on religious freedom, and we need to get back to that.
If we were to hold a once and for all debate and final decision on gay marriage, and as part of the process agreed that anyone who mentioned religion was instantly out of the decision making process, the decision would be swift and clear. It would be on the books, and we could all go back to dealing with other things that need our attention.
In the end of it all, marriage is nothing more than a human made construct based on society and religion - which are also constructs. Arguing over whether or not a supreme being has sway over two people wanting to legally and socially enjoin is about as sensible as debating who would win in a fight between Batman and Superman.
As far as gay culture, I can't claim that I've been part of it however I've lived side by side with it in reasonable harmony for quite a while. If that culture arose out of need when the dominant culture was not accepting, it should change if the dominant culture suddenly became accepting. I would not see that as a loss, but as a victory. However realistically I believe there will be factions and people who will dislike and fight against the acceptance of " different " for as long as the world turns. How prevalent that force is depends on how we as a culture educate our future generations.