Bayard Taylor (1825–1878)

The Publisher Says: Joseph, a young man, marries a wealthy woman just as he is discovering an even more powerful love with his new friend Philip and must contend with the revelation of his wife's manipulative nature as well as his increasing feelings for Philip.

Joseph and His Friend has been deemed the "first gay novel" in America. It has also been noted for its enigmatic treatment of homosexuality. rel="nofollow" target="_top">Roger Austen notes "In the nineteenth century, Bayard Taylor had written that the reader who did not feel 'cryptic forces' at play in Joseph and His Friend would hardly be interested in the external movement of his novel."

I PROCURED THIS BOOK FROM PROJECT GUTENBERG.

My Review: I love the straight-people arguments about how "gay" things weren't really A Thing in historical time! Alexander and Hephaistion? Besties! Achilles and Patroclus? Companions! Naomi and Ruth? Dutiful daughter-in-law! They really don't mean that. They mean "y'all creepy little losers aren't real and if you try harder you'll be just like me" so, since we won't do that, it's easy to hate us guilt-free. (Lest we be in any doubt, "I accept you, just not the sins you're committing" is hateful, judgmental rejection, like the horrifying "I love you anyway" that good christians love to emit.)

This is the story of a man who marries a horrible, manipulative woman, figures out she's awful, and confronts her with a demand that she change. Instead, she has a hissy fit and dies. (Good riddance to bad rubbish.) The way he figures out she's bad news is the love of a good man. He is involved in a train wreck (literal this time) and is nursed back to health by Philip. The good, kind, caring, nurturing Philip delivers everything Joseph has thirsted for. Their strong loving bond gives Joseph the strength to face down all of Society as his beady-eyed, small-souled religious-nut community suspects he is the cause of his revolting wife's death.

As soon as Joseph leaves these awful, judgmental church-goers and spends some more time in The Wilderness, the first place he returns to is Philip. "Ooops," thought Bayard Taylor, "that won't do," (or it was said to him) and hey-presto Joseph is suddenly, without the slightest reason, in love with Philip's sister who has barely appeared before this. As kludges go, this one's pretty awkward but doesn't shock me. Especially revealing of the nature of it as kludge is the extended meditation Philip runs through where he laments the fact that Joseph will be "take{n} further from my heart"; he determines, though, that it's really all for the best and he'll be vicariously happy intheir marriage. Note: he doesn't at any time think "now I'll go get me one of those marriage things" or think about how he's happy his sister has such a good man; he mourns his own loss and sets up a lifetime of pining for what she ghosted out from under his nose.

Why I kept going despite the very serious problems with this book is simple: the American nineteenth century wasn't all that tolerant of Others. We're racist now, but these folks had just fought a war five years before it came out to determine if chattel slavery was going to remain legal. The whole thing, just by existing, is a shock to the social system. The author acknowledges as much in his preface:

To those who prefer quiet pictures of life to startling incidents, the attempt to illustrate the development of character to the mysteries of an elaborate plot, and the presentation of men and women in their mixed strength and weakness to the painting of wholly virtuous ideals and wholly evil examples: who are as interested in seeing moral and intellectual forces at work in a simple country community as on a more conspicuous place of human action: who believe in the truth and tenderness of man's love for man, as of man's love for woman: who recognize the trouble which confused ideals of life and the lack of high and intellect culture bring upon a great portion of our country population,–to all such, no explanation of this volume is necessary. Others will not read it.

Borrow it from the library, download it for free. Not a book you'll want to re-read absent a real fascination with queerness in the nineteenth century.… (more)

One of the great things about having an e-reader is that it gives you access to unusual historical books that you would never have looked at before.

Bayard Taylor writes about his Rucksack tour of Europe in the middle of the 19th century before he did his noteworthy translation of Faust. The book is based upon the collection of newspaper reports he sent home to help finance his trip. Although a sometime tedious book, it provides an excellent feel for life just before the 1848 revolutions. It also provides a sense for how close everything in Europe actually is and inspires you to put on your rucksack and follow in his footsteps.… (more)