January 5, 2001 GAY PEOPLE'S CHRONICLE
Snuggle up and hope for a snow day
Dykes With Baggage: The Lighter Side of Lesbians in Therapy.
Edited by Riggin Waugh
Alyson Publications
Trade Paperback/$12.95
The Femme's Guide to the
Universe
by Shar Rednour
Alyson Publications
$14.95/Trade Paperback
Reviewed by Anthony Glassman
The library here at the office has a tendency to grow by leaps and bounds with a number of anthologies: erotic anthologies, activist essay anthologies, youth anthologies, and Norwegian homosexual Eco-terrorist performance artist anthologies. You name it, someone's written it.
Few of them, however, are done as well as Dykes with Baggage, a collection of humorous works about the lesbian fascination with therapy. Being a gay man, I knew a completely stocked tool box and some flannel shirts were required to get your dyke card but nobody told me you had to get a therapist, too. I guess I'll have to save up...
This collection is yet another in a long line of Alyson Publications books that absolutely rocks and collects some of the funniest stories and anecdotes ever read. Some of them are bits of stand-up comedy by Sara Cytron, written with her partner Harriet Malinowitz. Others are simply short stories or essays on therapy. A few are even written from the point of view of a therapist, like the hilarious "The Y Files" by Shari J. Berman, adventures of a yenta psychologist, who can't keep herself from taking a more active role in her patients' lives.
Then there's Julia Willis" "Case History of a Warrior Princess," in which a familiar leather-clad figure laments her inability to consummate her relationship with a certain bard named Gabrielle.
Nice counterpoints to the stories are the comics interspersed between tales. Such lesbian luminaries as Roberta Gregory, Alison Bechdel, and the punk sensibilities of Kris Kovick keep the flow going during what would otherwise be the two seconds of letdown in between chapters.
The
Femme's Guide to the Universe
Shar Redno ur
Now, because this is an anthology being reviewed, it's customary for the reviewer to run around like a chicken with its head cut off, finding appropriate lines from various stories to illustrate why the book does/ doesn't suck. In the case of Dykes with Baggage, the problem is restricting the number of quotations to a reasonable amount.
Of course, "Serial Therapy (or What to Do When Your Therapist Is Seeing Someone Else)" by G.L. Morrison lends itself beautifully as an illustration of all that is good in the world of humor.
Morrison writes, "I learned a valuable lesson-therapy is a good way to get out of a math test. I used this technique a lot in high school, excusing myself to the guidance counselor with urgent teen angst."
When she takes her four-year-old son to a therapist, fearing that the baby-sitter's brother molested him, she tells us:
"She tried to reassure me that any maladjustments he might be displaying were solely the result of being raised by an anxious, poverty-stricken, teenage lesbian.
'He's fine,' she said. 'You're a mess. I'll make an appointment for you to see me on Tuesdays.'
dyes
with baggage
the lighter
side of
lesbians
In therapy edited by riggin waugh
Since I couldn't stop sobbing, I had no choice but to agree. (A lot of my relationships start that way.)"
I could go on and just print the entire story, but that would be both overkill and actionable copyright infringement, so I'll stop there. You get the idea. And, best of all, it's all that good. Some pieces are more slapstick, some are more serious, but all of them are seriously funny.
So, if you know what's good for your sanity, you'll grab your tool belt, your flannel shirt, your shrink, and curl up in front of the fire with this collection.
Our second selection is equally as funny. However, there is a caveat that should be inserted here: there are some people that are simply not meant to read certain books, and certain books are simply not meant to be read by some people.
That is a strange statement to read at the beginning of a book review, but it's true. Neo-Nazis aren't going to get the point of The Diary of Anne Frank, men don't usually glean as much useful information from Our Bodies, Our Selves as do women. It's a clear case of target-audience marketing in action.
Shar Rednour's The Femme's Guide to the Universe is like that. It was written for a very specific section of the population, and should not be read by a certain class of people.
To see if you should read it, answer the following questions truthfully:
1) Do you have a sense of humor? 2) Can you handle brief descriptions of lesbian sex?
3) Do you like, or like being, or can stand, feminine men or women, or at least recognize their inalienable rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness?
If you answered no to any of these questions, do not read this book. Under no circumstances should this book even be opened in your presence! It has not been proven scientifically, but the guide might actually be detrimental to your health.
Shar Rednour, writer of erotica and fierce femme poet, has compiled the how-to guide of femmedom. Since an author writes what she knows, the book is necessarily slanted towards the lipstick lesbian, but as the author herself says, "Femmes and aspiring femmes of all genders and sexualities...are official citizens of Shartopia." And Shartopia, apparently, is the place to be.
"In Shartopia, you sleep on your schedule and still make enough money to pay rent."
Sounds like the Garden of Eden, before that little problem with the Snake and the apple got in the way.
The most important thing to remember, going into this book, is the Shartopian Credo: "Get what you want and nobody gets hurt." Truly words to live by.
In addition to being a how-to guide of everything from dressing to decorating to party-going, while offering hard-won advice on relationships, removing stains, and staying safe in a world that hates and fears us, Rednour also offers a glimpse into the darkness of the butch-femme dichotomy within the lesbian community.
She explains, couched in humor, the types of butches and femmes that populate the urban landscape, and tells each how to deal with the other. She makes clear all the things that can confuse a reader immersed in Pat Califia's smutty stories. She makes roleplaying fun again, and keeps the egos of all involved from being bruised.
Best of all, she tells you how to walk in stiletto heels.