Today is the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe and the 41st anniversary of my loss of virginity. My reflections on that wonderful event and its consequences are here.
The connection between my eros and my identity has certainly changed over the years. Nowadays pretty well the only thing I like about gay men is that they have sex with one another. The rest of it grows increasingly alien. Mr Donovan's diagnosis was, alas, all too on-point.
But that elemental psycho-physical gravitation between men...I know that 97%+ of the human race finds it odd --at best-- but to me it is as natural as breathing. I cannot really imagine myself otherwise. And having Mr B in my life I am very blessed and grateful to experience it quite regularly. Not just the sex, but the whole range of it. Which, of course, makes the sex exponentially better. I'm quite the lucky old dog.
In The Missing Myth, Gilles Herrada makes one point which is well worth considering, that the monotheistic West has no mythic space for same-sex eros. It can only function as an alien phenomenon. And that does damage to the souls of the homoerotically shaped, which remain homeless and haunted. (Explains a lot of "LGBTQ" culture.)
I forget what his take on gay marriage is but I think he was unenthusiastic for reasons similar to my own: marriage is heterosexual by nature and for gays to try to claim it doesn't change the archetypal fact that it can only ever be hand-me-down and ill-fitting drag for us. The whole "Marriage Equality" campaign struck me as lazy and cheap and, for a group which prides itself on its creativity, staggeringly derivative.
Not only does it erase the specificity of same-sex love, but it makes male-male and female-female partnerships equivalent and indistinct. I have often referred to it as "genderless marriage." IMHO, not only should the ritual form of two men binding themselves together have a different shape from that of a man and a woman, it should also be different from the rites of two women.