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Keith Haring, 1989 

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a body is skin wrapped around stories, is tissue filled with veins that the truth runs through, is a box of bones with a voice inside.

Kai Cheng Thom, "to the ones who didn't cry" from Falling Back in Love with Being Human: Letters to Lost Souls

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Konbini • Luca Guadagnino est dans le Video Club

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TYLER POSEY ALONE (2020)

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The morose glamor of aimlessness, of neon-streaked hormonal entropy, is intrinsic to the film’s design, as is Araki’s signature incorporation of shoegaze music, featuring such bands as Cocteau Twinks (ahem, Twins*) and a particularly memorable usage of Slowdive during a breathless finale sequence. The endless desert highways navigated by these sexually inquisitive flaneurs provide a purgatorial backdrop for the growing pains of fluidity. The emphasis on transience, both erotically and geographically, serves as a pointed critique for the often hostile trappings of heteronormative domesticity. It was all too easy to seek refuge in this romanticized and wistful wandering while confined to our apartments or stuck in our parents basements, anxiously awaiting the distant promise of a vaccine from a rapidly eroding administration. —Kerosene Jones

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Une robe d'été (1996) // dir. François Ozon

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DRUMMER magazine

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Painting entitled "Lovers on a Sofa" (oil on canvas, 1992) by the Dutch artist Deni Ponty.

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Pornography

by Richard Siken

They shot him by the side of the road. The sun was tangled in his hair as he leaned against the car. He fingered his chest, just over his heart, as if touching it directly. — My car broke down. — You need oil and a belt. Take off your shirt. You could consider him compromised. There is no universe where he is not a hitchhiker asking a rancher for help, where he is not plugged in like a lamp. The doctor has to crack the ribs to get to the lungs. The plumber has to pull out the sink to get to the pipes in the walls. The pornographer has to adjust the bodies to catch the slant of the light. He moves them like furniture. In the barn, the rancher spreads a blanket and their clothes fall off considerably. They are technicians. It is a compliment. They clock and clam like eels and the night goes mink. I want to be them. I want to be like them. I want to fuck everything but I don't want to be touched. It's awful, my watching: the refusal to participate, the ogling and superiority, the approximation of a true desire. It's fake, but it isn't. It's art, but it isn't. They're pretending but it doesn't matter because they're actually doing it, exhausting themselves as the acting evaporates, peak beauty, that moment — the swan dive, the little death, a bird flying into a kitchen window, open or shut, this or nothing, it strips the bolts. The cameraman is standing very quietly. It looks like he is weeping.

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Steamy Saturday

". . . the keen penetrating story of a young school teacher . . . who struggles to find her own happiness in the lush jungle of the 3rd sex."

". . . the furtive cult of strange loves and fierce passions."

"It isn't easy being a les. You live and love in a twilight world. . . ."

"Do you think that because I'm a woman our love-making has less significance. . . ?

". . . it was painful to love so desperately and be used so casually."

This week we bring you another steamy romance by Sloane Britain, pseudonym of the American lesbian pulp-fiction writer Elaine Williams (1933-1961). First Person . . . 3rd Sex, a "Magenta Book" published in Chicago by Newsstand Library in 1959, was Britain/Williams's first published novel and although bittersweet in tone, it has a more positive resolution than Sloane's dismally desperate second novel The Needle, published in the same year, which we posted about earlier.

The story centers on Paula Harman, a 21-year old, newly-minted teacher who had pimped herself out to the owner and short order cook of the diner she worked at for some extra cash when she was a teenager. In college she rooms with Janet Coxe and after graduation they both get jobs at the same school and live together again, and before long they become romantically involved. This wasn't Paula's first lesbian relationship; previously, she had had a very (very!) steamy affair with an older nurse named Karen Lerner. Paula loved Karen, but Karen didn't feel the same about Paula.

But then, Oh Janet! Could she be the one? To complicate things, the school principal Helen Winsor has the hots for Janet, and Helen was also Karen's lover once. So many complications. For pity's sake, all Paula wants is that one person she can love and settle down with! In the end, none of these three women work out for Paula, but they would all remain friends, and Paula maintains a positive outlook:

. . . I was sure that someday, somewhere, I would find the woman who would love me as I loved her. . . . I don't her name or what she looks like or anything about her. Only that as I write this she, too, is waiting.

View more posts on lesbian romance fiction.

View more LGBTQ+ posts.

View other pulp fiction posts.

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Nina Hamnett (1890-1956) was born on the 14th of February, 1890 – on St Valentine’s Day in Tenby, as it says on the plaque marking the place of her birth.

Like Gwen John, who also grew up in Tenby, Nina was bisexual - openly, unlike many other queer people of the time. Affairs with women such as Vanessa Bell are rumoured (rumours possibly started by Nina) while she also had affairs with male artists who she modelled for, such as Roger Fry and Modigliani. As well as portraits by Fry, and one portrait by Modigliani, she was painted by Walter Sickert with her husband and posed for a sculpture of her nude torso by Gaudier Brzeska.

Her autobiography published in 1932 was named in reference to this sculpture: The Laughing Torso. The tale of her bohemian life was a bestseller in the US and UK, where her reputation was growing. In it she recounts growing up in Wales, unhappily - of her birth, she writes:

“Everybody was furious, especially my Father, who still is. As soon as I became conscious of anything I was furious too, at having been born a girl; I have since discovered it has certain advantages.”

In her adult life, she writes of her own becoming an artist, the people she met, from members of the Bloomsbury Group to other Welsh artists and writers (Dylan Thomas, Augustus John, Cedric Morris), and of her many love affairs. Though Nina and Norwegian artist Edgar de Bergen married in 1914, she was relieved when their relationship ended three years later- they never saw each other again but did not get a divorce. Nina continued to be prolific in Parisian society, dancing on a Montparnasse cafe table for the ‘hell of it.’

Her bohemian life, and infamous autobiography depicting it, would overshadow her art, however. Nina was an extremely talented artist, and successful too, as one of the most respected women artists of her period. Other artists saw her talent but Nina was more drawn to the bohemian life of Paris and London. Her life, however, went downhill after she was sued by Aleister Crowley for having written in Laughing Torso that he was involved in black magic.

Nina died on the 16th of December, 1956, after falling from her apartment window. Whether accidental or intentional is unclear - her last words are said to be ‘Who don’t they let me die?’ On the last page of The Laughing Torso, she had written, ‘I wish I could have jumped out of the window.’

Nina Hamnett was known as the ‘Queen of the Fitzroy’ in her life and is now also known as the ‘Queen of Bohemia.’

[Images: 1. Portrait of Nina Hamnett by Roger Fry, in a dress designed by Vanessa Bell, made at Omega Workshops, 1917. 2. ‘Dolores’ by Nina Hamnett, 1931.]

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"I think pornography is a very rich medium, and I’ve studied it closely and learned quite a lot as a writer from it. Porn charges and narrows the reader’s attention in a swift, no-nonsense way, and it creates an anxious, intimate, and secretive atmosphere that I find very helpful as a way to erase the context around my characters and foreground their feelings, their psychological depths, their tastes. But I’m also always interested in subverting and counteracting porn’s effect, and the sex in my books is never merely hot. It challenges the objectification that is porn’s stock-in-trade by removing the central conceit that people having sex are in a state of supreme relaxation and self-confidence, wherein their worries and individuality are muted and beside the point. It uses hotness as a kind of decoy." -Dennis Cooper, 2011

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Antoine d’Agata

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I Love You So Much It Hurts (The Most), 2014

Olivia Bee

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if you think i’m cute now, just imagine how cute i’d be moaning and arching my back when you first put it in

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