A couple of friends sent to me, yesterday, the fun NYT piece about the secret gay history of children's writing. (Arnold Lobel, James Marshall, Tomie DePaola, Maurice Sendak and several others were all gay. DePaola is still gay; he's still alive.)
I had no idea the list was so long. I guess this should not be shocking; it seems to me that these men were writing, and drawing, at a time when a concern for a child's development was viewed as somewhat feminine. (To some extent, we're still living in that time. It seems more common, in Manhattan at least, for gay--rather than straight--men to work with little kids. I think that's because gay men don't care whether people view their work as feminine.) This isn't to say all men who have written for children are gay--but a surprising number *are* gay.
I hadn't known anything about James Marshall--really--except that Ed Marshall was actually a nom de plume. In other words, there was one guy--doubling as BOTH James AND Ed Marshall. This seems fitting; the writer of these books was clearly interested in masks, in assumed identities.
What do I mean? Consider Miss Swamp, in "Miss Nelson Is Missing." We're terrified of Miss Swamp--and the shocker, at the end, is that Miss Swamp is actually Miss Nelson in disguise.
Or Marshall's retelling of "Hansel and Gretel": Who is that awful Witch? She is the Step-mother, of course, wearing a mask. She is the nasty mom looking to do away with the children, while also holding on to her husband's regard.
Dressing up for Halloween plays a large role in "Space Case."
And one George and Martha story has George playing the Invisible Man; he imagines Martha is unaware of his secret voyeur habits, and he continues to assume the role of Responsible and Trustworthy Friend. Martha, in turn, assumes the role of Innocent, Unknowing Prey. The end of the story is the unmasking of George: Martha has known about George's double life, and we all chuckle at the restoration of order.
No one is arguing that non-gay writers aren't interested in social performances, in mask-wearing. But it does seem compelling, to me, to notice a link between years in the closet and *an interest in social disguises* ....Again, gayness is not required for talking about costumes and false identities. But I think you would have to be obtuse--and it seems many NYT readers ARE obtuse--if you refused to wonder how Marshall's own closeted experience fed into his choice of subjects.
That's all. I'm grateful for Jesse Green's article. More, please!
I had no idea the list was so long. I guess this should not be shocking; it seems to me that these men were writing, and drawing, at a time when a concern for a child's development was viewed as somewhat feminine. (To some extent, we're still living in that time. It seems more common, in Manhattan at least, for gay--rather than straight--men to work with little kids. I think that's because gay men don't care whether people view their work as feminine.) This isn't to say all men who have written for children are gay--but a surprising number *are* gay.
I hadn't known anything about James Marshall--really--except that Ed Marshall was actually a nom de plume. In other words, there was one guy--doubling as BOTH James AND Ed Marshall. This seems fitting; the writer of these books was clearly interested in masks, in assumed identities.
What do I mean? Consider Miss Swamp, in "Miss Nelson Is Missing." We're terrified of Miss Swamp--and the shocker, at the end, is that Miss Swamp is actually Miss Nelson in disguise.
Or Marshall's retelling of "Hansel and Gretel": Who is that awful Witch? She is the Step-mother, of course, wearing a mask. She is the nasty mom looking to do away with the children, while also holding on to her husband's regard.
Dressing up for Halloween plays a large role in "Space Case."
And one George and Martha story has George playing the Invisible Man; he imagines Martha is unaware of his secret voyeur habits, and he continues to assume the role of Responsible and Trustworthy Friend. Martha, in turn, assumes the role of Innocent, Unknowing Prey. The end of the story is the unmasking of George: Martha has known about George's double life, and we all chuckle at the restoration of order.
No one is arguing that non-gay writers aren't interested in social performances, in mask-wearing. But it does seem compelling, to me, to notice a link between years in the closet and *an interest in social disguises* ....Again, gayness is not required for talking about costumes and false identities. But I think you would have to be obtuse--and it seems many NYT readers ARE obtuse--if you refused to wonder how Marshall's own closeted experience fed into his choice of subjects.
That's all. I'm grateful for Jesse Green's article. More, please!
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