Foreword by Alan Cumming
Welcome to Kweendom:
LGBTQ Comedians Make Pride Personal with Stories of Love, Loss, Sex and Everything under The Rainbow
FOREWORD BY ALAN CUMMING
When I was a drama student, one of the first things my movement teacher said that registered with me — actually, hang on, it might be the only thing my movement teacher said that ever registered with me — was: “Everyone should go to drama school, not just people who want to be actors, but everyone. Here, you learn about life!”
I feel the same way about this collection of short stories. Of course, it is much more likely that queer people (and by that I mean all the letters of our beautiful and ever expanding acronym AND those who love them) will be reading this book than non-queer people, but I so wish that our tired, eager to compartmentalize and label “oh, that’s not for me,” throw-them-a-bone culture would wise up and realize that queer people have got it down. If wisdom means having experienced life in its many and varied forms, taken that experience and analyzed it, then used that analysis to go forth into the world with a new, stronger and more authentic outlook, then this book will testify, teach and preach, that queer people, per capita, are much more likely to be wise than the rest of the poor unfortunate non-queer folks.
This anthology is as eclectic as it is possible to be. One dip into its lucky bag might present you with a tender story of navigating the world of Judaism as a trans person, then another will give you an insight on the intricate rules and etiquette of piss play.
The revenge fantasy of returning to interview for a job as a woman that you were once fired from as a man competes with the joyous abandon yet utterly overwhelming (and ultimately rather tawdry) experience of being blindfolded and losing count of the number of times you are fucked in a Berlin sex club.
There is even a story about dog death that is haunting and hilarious and many queer insights into topics ranging from the Vietnamese-American community to eating disorders to alcoholic parents to having an impenetrable anxiety about being, er, penetrated.
What this collection makes transparent is that all of us, as queer people, have a secret that we may have lived with for a very long time. And even if we haven’t, we can all appreciate the concept of hiding some detail of ourselves. Every storyteller in these pages has some form of secret or encounters one. What is illuminating and remarkable and heartening is how they deal with it.
The common theme in all of these wonderful stories is authenticity and, eventually, lack of shame. My biggest takeaway, and something I think we should all heed, is that we should never respect anyone who shows us no respect — even when they are dominating or humiliating us. And that living an authentic life, whatever that may mean to you, is paramount in life because it will give us the liberty to pursue true happiness.
