lesbians in reno!

Warning: Contains Spoilers for the Objectively Best Queer Cowboy Film

Don’t tell my parents or the FBI, but in high school, I pirated many movies. I torrented my way through the back catalog of queer cinema: To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar and But I’m a Cheerleader! and Pink Flamingos. But my most crucial 123movies.com find was the gay cowboy movie. You know, the super-vibey slow-burn forlorn-American-West-landscape one, the seminal LGBT-rep one, the one with stolen glances and secret touches. No, I don’t mean Brokeback Mountain. I mean Desert Hearts (1985). Since my first fateful watch, it has cemented the top spot in my personal list of Best Films Ever Made.

Like most good cinema, this one opens with divorce. Our protagonist Vivian is a foxy Columbia professor seeking to expedite her separation by establishing residency in Reno, Nevada. Nevada, I learned, lets you get divorced after living there for six weeks. In Georgia, for comparison, the process takes six months. In New York, it’s a whole year. Ms. Vivian wants to ditch her hubby ASAP, and there’s a whole industry catering to that desire; she stays at a Reno ranch dedicated to women establishing residencies specifically for divorce. The proprietor of this legal-loophole watering hole is Frances. Frances is something like a mother to young woman Cay, since Cay has the classic dead dad/deadbeat mom combo. When Cay & Vivian meet, sparks fly.

C & V’s meet-cute is truly epic. Frances drives Vivian through the dreamy, dusty Nevada landscape. Cay comes opposite them in her truck, then, seeing the hot new professor, DRIVES BACKWARDS so their cars maintain speed in the same direction, spitting sweet talk towards Vivian all the while. That scene alone is worth watching the film for.

Really, there’s very many reasons to watch. There’s the fashion. To quote Letterboxd user Sarah: “I genuinely love how they didn’t even try to disguise those 80s hairstyles for a story set in the late-1950s. Gay repression is strong, but 80s perms are even stronger.” Plus, all the double-denim, super-high-wasted shorts, and cowboy hats. The setting has that desert town je ne sais quoi, with dilapidated casinos and slowtime square dancing. There’s also A Scene You Don’t Want to Watch With Your Parents of great historic import: it’s the first time general movie theater audiences saw an intimate scene on-screen between two women. 

 

 

The film overall holds a key place in the queer cannon because it doesn’t end in freaking tragedy. To quote Wikipedia: “It is regarded as the first feature film to ‘de-sensationalize lesbianism’ by presenting a positive portrayal of a lesbian romance.” It’s something of a cliche that most LGBT characters, especially in the past, don’t get happy endings (looking at you, Brokeback Mountain). This is a tradition likely born of centuries of continued persecution and oppression, and can be both an effective and truthful storytelling decision. But, also, if I’m being honest, I want the girlies to win sometimes. In contrast, the ending of Desert Hearts is so so so sweet. I squeal out loud like a suckling pig every time I watch it.

In most cases, the book is better than the movie. I myself cannot vouch for Desert Hearts’ literary predecessor, Jane Rule’s 1964 novel Desert of the Heart, but only because I haven’t read it. It does have a whopping 3.9/5 Goodreads rating and the Irish book club Bibliofemme did nominate it for the top 10 gay novels, if you care about that kind of thing. The book also was as pioneering as the film (from Wikipedia: “It was one of the very few novels addressing lesbianism that was published in hardback form; most books during this period with female homosexuality as a topic were considered lesbian pulp fiction until 1969.”)

If you’re ready for a film to reach in and put a string of lights around your heart this June, Desert Hearts is the one. Its vibe curation is immaculate -- consider that after the painstaking, four-year fundraising process for the film, 20% of the budget went to securing MUSIC RIGHTS for the specific songs the director wanted. She, the director Donna Deitch, was so insistent on having Helen Shaver play Vivian that Deitch refused to hang up a phone call until Shaver agreed to pass up another, more lucrative movie opportunity. Desert Hearts is a labor of love, and it most definitely shows.

Click here to buy Desert of the Heart from us: https://eagleeyebooks.com/book/9781594930355

Momga

    It wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to say that without moms there would be no stories. Not only is this statement literally true, and honestly a bit of an understatement because without moms humanity would likely not exist, but also figuratively. The inclusion of a mom in a story gives readers a character they can easily empathize with and relate to, as well as give new context or motivations to the other characters. And to no one’s surprise, moms often end up being some of the most standout characters in the stories they inhabit. They can be omnipresent matriarchs, like One Hundred Years of Solitude’s Ursula, certified plot drivers, like Mia and Elena of Little Fires Everywhere, or genuine eccentrics, like Mrs. Glass from Franny and Zooey.

    I could be here all day going on about all the awesome moms in fiction, so to save us both some time I’ll narrow my scope to some moms you might not be as familiar with: the moms of manga.

    To get us started I’ll be highlighting some moms from Yotsuba&!, one of my favorite series. Despite being a slice-of-life series about Yotsuba Koiwai, a 5-year-old girl who lives with her single father, there’s no shortage of mom action. Most of it is dished out by Mrs. Ayase, Yotsuba’s next-door neighbor and a mother to three daughters: Asagi, Fuuka and Ena. Mrs. Ayase’s first introduction to the series is in chapter 4, and I’ll let her first meeting with Yotsuba do the talking. (Side Note: Manga is read right to left)

 

    For the rest of the series Mrs. Ayase maintains this jovial and generous demeanor. Besides making her a pleasant person, this attitude also provides a fun comedic contrast with Yotsuba’s father’s moments of embarrassment. Mrs. Ayase is also always receptive to Yotsuba’s antics and is endlessly patient with whatever they might entail, though she still makes time for her own daughters.

 

    Besides Mrs. Ayase, Yotsuba&! also features Mrs. Koiwai, Yotsuba’s grandmother. While she’s a bit of a softie towards her granddaughter, Mrs. Koiwai’s country roots have made her tough. She’s quick to set her son straight and has even been known to discipline Yotsuba every once in a while.

    Ultimately, Mrs. Koiwai is a good reminder that, for the most part, age is a mindset. So if there’s something you want to do, you should go out and do it, whether that be travelling across the country for a concert or keeping up with the latest tech trends, like Mrs. Koiwai, or anything else your heart desires.

 

    Since we’re talking about grandmothers, it would be a shame not to mention Ping Pong’s “Granny.” While her full name, and technically her grandmother status, are unknown, I can say with 100% certainty that she is a mother. Even if she was not, though, the attention and energy she affords the students at her ping pong parlor gives big parental energy.

             

 

    A former ping pong star and current coach to Peco (right), one of the series’ main characters, Granny’s calm demeanor serves as a good contrast to many of the more hot-headed characters. She’s almost always seen with a cigarette hanging from her lips, which also makes her look like a bit of a badass. Beneath her cool exterior, though, she’s still watching out for her students, even when they might be taking a break from the sport.

 

    Granny reminds us that blood isn’t always what makes people family, and that sometimes the people you need most in your life can be found in unexpected places, like a ping pong parlor. So this Mother’s Day don’t forget about the other women in your life, mom or not, who’ve helped to get you where you are.

 

    So, we’ve talked about some moms in supporting roles, but are there any manga where moms are at the forefront? Truthfully, there aren’t a lot of them. Not a lot, however, does not mean zero, and Spy x Family’s Yor Forger is proof of that. 

 

    Yor is a deadly assassin who possesses the strength to kick a moving car out of her daughter's way and is willing to do whatever else it might take to defend her family. And while assassins are usually portrayed as being cold or calloused, Yor is the complete opposite. Her love for her family is even more impressive when you consider that she only got married at the beginning of the series to cover up her career. 

 

    Throughout the story, we see Yor become more accustomed to her new domestic life, and while she might fail when it comes to things like cooking, often to a comedic degree, it is heartwarming nonetheless to watch her strive to be the best mother she can be. Motherhood is a journey, and Yor’s own journey shows just how much a child can change your life.

 

    Blood on the Track’s Seiko Osabe shows us that this change might not always be for the better. At first, Seiko just seems like a stereotypical overprotective mother, but the lengths she’s willing to go might even make Yor Forger shudder.

 

    Within the first volume of the manga, Seiko pushes her own nephew off a cliff, and it only gets darker from there. Over the rest of the series we get to peak into Seiko and her son's pasts, and uncover what's really at the root of her nature. So if you’re looking for some evil mom action this Mother’s Day, consider checking out Blood on the Tracks.

 

    The final mom we’ll be highlighting is Fullmetal Alchemist’s Mrs. Elrich. To fully understand her significance, though, we first need to talk about the series she hails from. Full Metal Alchemist: Brotherhood, one of the manga’s two anime adaptations has been widely regarded as one of the best anime of all time since its release. For context, having one anime adaptation is something to be proud of but two is a monumental accomplishment. And if that wasn't enough, Hiromu Arakawa, the series' author, also found time to raise three children of her own.

 

     Sadly, though, Mrs. Elrich doesn’t get to spend much time in the story as she’s already passed away by the time the first chapter kicks off. In an effort to bring her back to life, her two sons, Edward and Alphonse, performed a forbidden alchemical ritual. There attempt ends in failure, though, and Edward’s arm is replaced with metal while Alphonse’s body disappears and his soul is subsequently bound to a suit of armor. So, while we never get to see what type of mother Mrs. Elrich was, we can infer the lengths of love shared between her and her sons based off how far they were willing to go her. 

 

    With Mrs. Elrich in mind, it's important  to remember those who, for one reason or another, can’t be with their mom this Mother’s Day. We should also take some time to reflect on and appreciate all that our moms have done for us, whether that be writing a genre-defining manga, teaching us a sport, hooking us up with some snacks or, you know, giving birth to us. 

 

    And to Hiromu Arakawa and all the other moms out there, happy Mother’s Day!

To check out any of the manga mentioned, click the links below:

Yotsuba&!

https://eagleeyebooks.com/book/9780316073875

Ping Pong

https://eagleeyebooks.com/book/9781974711659

Spy x Family

https://eagleeyebooks.com/book/9781974715466

Blood on the Tracks

https://eagleeyebooks.com/book/9781949980134

Fullmetal Alchemist

https://eagleeyebooks.com/book/9781421540184

Mother dearest: what’s up with all the evil stepmoms?

I’ve recently been thinking about Hansel & Gretel. It’s so grim. The parents abandon their children for lack of food. The mother acts as if no other option exists. The father, though remorseful, spinelessly succumbs to her plan. After being kidnapped and starved, the children return twice to this toxic household. We’re to read this as a happy ending.

Hansel & Gretel falls into a large cannon of European fairy tales catalyzed by cruel mothers, or stepmothers. But also, the tales we nowadays think of as having cruel stepmothers often started out with just cruel mothers. The Brothers Grimm altered details of the folk tales they recorded, sanitizing them to fit contemporary 19th century values; biological mothers were to be paragons of virtue, so evil mothers became evil stepmothers.

In Hansel & Gretel, Mama gets her just desserts. After the kids return to an overjoyed father, they learn their mother had died, “offscreen.” Almost too easy a storytelling strategy, I think: killing the mom sidesteps the awkward interaction that would otherwise have occurred. But the father gets to share the spoils of a happy ending. Why? Is he not equally guilty of attempted infanticide?

I find similar questions in other Brothers Grimm stories. Cinderella’s father married the cruel stepmother, and did nothing to stop her abuse of his only daughter. Same thing with Snow White: where was her dad during Evil Stepmother’s jealous tirades? It is always the female parent who is punished.

I’m curious: why are the stories so many of us consumed as kids saturated by the evil (step)mother archetype? Perhaps it’s a matter of record, all the Brothers Grimm’ fault. For background, they, Wilhelm and Jacob, were academics riding a 19th century wave of romanticism and German nationalism that brought renewed interest to folk tales, which saw these stories as reflective of German identity. From both peasants and higher-class acquaintances, the Grimms transcribed (and edited) old stories. They popularized some of the most famous fairy tales: Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Little Red Riding Hood, Rapnuzel, and, of course, Hansel & Gretel. The brothers lost their father and grandfather at a young age, and, if Jungian analysis is to be believed, perhaps these early losses impacted their perceptions of women. Analysts Alistair & Hauke ascribe to their family deaths the “tendency to idealize and excuse fathers, as well as the predominance of female villains in the tales.” But, in an academic debate highlighted by Wikipedia, opponents of this theory remind us that the Grimms were mostly recorders, rather than authors, of the fairy tales.

Perhaps stepmothers in particular were seen as evil because of the circumstances often surrounding their entrance into families. The 19th century still saw many women die in childbirth, and so stepmothers would be associated with the death of a biological parent, with fairy tales being cautionary tales about how stepmoms ought not to behave. The BBC additionally writes that, perhaps, these stories allowed 19th century readers to process “taboo feelings – like maternal rage and resentment” towards the often-younger stepmothers widowers took on.

Motherhood is no fairy tale. Complex emotions color one’s interactions with the child, the co-parent(s), larger family and societal structures, and oneself; not to mention the visceral changes that rip through the body after childbirth for some mothers. Economic and sociopolitical structures skewer through motherhood, influencing relationships (why were Hansel & Gretel’s family starving? Natural causes affecting food supply, or inequitable feudal structures?). I am familiar mostly with Western fairy tales, and within them, it seems mothers seldom win, or even get much sympathy. I continue to be fascinated with the roots of the evil mother/stepmother archetype, whether they lie in some collective unconscious, or are the manifestation of societal/authorial bias. Either way: I invite us all to look at the evil (step)mother a bit closer, and consider what, or who, made her that way.



And if you want a refresher on the classic Grimm stories, click here to buy from us https://eagleeyebooks.com/book/9780691173221