Monstrousness and National Identity
Why "The Jewish Manticore"?
If you've been wondering what the name of this newsletter is supposed to mean, here's your answer:
On Becoming the Queer Jewish Monster I Was Destined to Be
I'm really, really proud of this essay I got to write for Sarah Gailey's Stone Soup. The general crux is something that's been on my mind all my life, and especially in the last few years. Then a chapter of Leah DeVun's excellent book, The Shape of Sex: Nonbinary Gender from Genesis to the Renaissance, honed those vague ideas into some kind of point:
There’s something empowering about not even beginning to care what the people who decide taboos think of you.
What's more, it can be gratifying to let yourself "just be the evil thing your fascistic enemies think you are." Their view of the world is so fucked, why care about being respectable within its boundaries?
So, you know, if you haven't bought and read Kalyna the Soothsayer yet, please do! What's more, this theme of purposeful monstrousness will be even more prevalent in the sequel, Kalyna the Cutthroat. Something to look forward to, I hope.
One Catty Thing I Didn't Include in the Stone Soup Essay
Since transphobia and antisemitism have been best buddies since the Middle Ages, J. K. Rowling told us exactly who she was in book one.
World Building and National Identity
Another book that made a huge impression on my worldview is Norman Davies' Vanished Kingdoms, which I strongly recommend despite the U.S. edition (not pictured above) having the most boring subtitle in the world. Over at John Scalzi's Whatever, I got to write about its influence on the political landscape of my novels, and why I think "national identity" is bullshit.
The Big Idea: Elijah Kinch Spector
(I think I talked even more about Vanished Kingdoms when I did my second book launch with Victor Manibo? I was in a fugue state and am not sure, but that sounds right.)
These two essays really cover—or at least scratch the surface of—many of my major preoccupations, which always manage to wind back to Jewishness in one way or another. I'm still figuring out what this newsletter of mine is going to be, but I thought I'd try expanding a bit on something tangential to the Stone Soup essay:
Monstrousness and Personal Style
Like a lot of people, I spent most of 2020 not getting haircuts, due to both COVID safety and deep depression. I had always gotten short, "classic" cuts that were really meant for men with straight hair but, as mine grew out, I started to really take care of my curls for the first time in my life. Once I had a good handle on hair care, I really liked that I was starting to look like some unruly, early 20th century, leftist, Jewish intellectual.
I showed my stylist this photo of Walter Benjamin.
My hair can't match the voluminousness of a young Trotsky, unfortunately.
I'm also fond of a tux, so my dumb joke was: "They say 'dress for the job you want,' which is why I always dress like a leftist academic or Dracula." (Often adding: "Either way, something scary from Eastern Europe.")
In the last year or so, I've complicated that "fussy academic" aura with loud gel manicures. More and more straight men seem to paint their nails these days, and more power to them, but it instills in me the need to go bigger—to flag that I'm not one of them. Most recently, I went purposefully 1930s femme, inspired in part by Joan Crawford (because I'm that kind of queer, I guess).
Joan Crawford.
My nails, and the most perfect cat in the world.
Even more recently, I've begun to adorn myself with as much jewelry as possible. This is certainly in keeping with contemporary styles I see among fellow queers, but it simultaneously allows me to tap into my love for a few other flashy and decadent anti-establishment figures, such as rappers[1], slick Miami Vice villains, and many of the characters in Uncut Gems. (My jewelry's all much cheaper than theirs, though.) Howard Ratner, Sandler's character in Uncut Gems, isn't exactly someone who should be emulated, but I can't help appreciating his loud and utterly unmanageable "ethnic"-ness.[2]
Ghostface Killah and Raekwon.
Miguel Piñero in Miami Vice.
Adam Sandler in Uncut Gems.
What this all comes down to is that I'm actively trying to look as Jewish, queer, and leftist as possible, while also appearing too gaudy for "tasteful" society. I want to wrap myself in as many kinds of perceived monstrousness as possible—as many ways to make who and what I am clear as I can imagine.
Maybe I'd feel freer if I didn't care how other people saw me at all, I don't know. I do know that, with each new wrinkle on the identity that I project into the world, I get a burst of euphoria inside: I look more like myself.
All of which is to say, Lea DeVun's The Shape of Sex is not directly responsible for the really gay little mustache I grew last weekend, but neither is it free of responsibility.[3]
Speaking of rappers, Tom Breihan's excellent article on "In Da Club" recently led me to a newfound appreciation of 50 Cent's early work. It probably helped that I'd been thinking so much about projecting a monstrous/villainous image, and that 50's persona was always that of rap music's gleeful and disdainful Bad Guy
The article is part of Breihan's ongoing column, The Number Ones, where he covers every single song to ever hit the number one on the Billboard Hot 100. It's a fascinating series to read through if you're interested in popular music of any kind.
I highly recommend this conversation Jewish Currents published back when Uncut Gems came out, which goes into a lot of depth about the protagonist's interesting relationship to whiteness and privilege. Part of what I love about the movie is that it's all about intersectionality, while mostly featuring characters who've probably never heard the word.
Oh wait, I just finally became Anton Walbrook in The Red Shoes, didn't I?
