Saturday, February 21, 2009

Handsome and hairy Jack Johnson








Josh Wald (double deadly!)











Henry Cavill (deadly!)







A declaration of principles (by Anon.)

AE Housman

Alfred Edward Housman was one of the greatest poets of the English language. But he was also deeply in the closet, due either to personal reticence - or the strict Victorian cultural pressure that at every turn told him he was a deviant, not capable or deserving of a fulfilling love - or both. The Wilde controversy at the turn of the century also effectively scared any outward nelly queers so deeply back into the closet that they did not emerge again until Stonewall. So Housman sublimated his love and, in turn, became one the greatest academic scholars in British history.

Housman fell in love in college, at St. John's, to Moses Jackson. Jackson was straight and never reciprocated Housman's love for him. They shared rooms and a social life which lasted about five years. Jackson later married, not inviting Housman to his wedding. It was some months later that Housman found out that the unrequited love of his life had taken a bride. If ever there was an all suffering fatal love, it was Housman's to Jackson. He was a man in the wilderness, alone in his Victorian version of Brokeback Mountain.

Moses Jackson (on the left) and AE Housman


XXX

Shake hands, we shall never be friends, all's over;
I only vex you the more I try.
All's wrong that ever I've done or said,
And nought to help it in this dull head:
Shake hands, here's luck, good-bye.

But if you come to a road where danger
Or guilt or anguish or shame's to share,
Be good to the lad that loves you true
And the soul that was born to die for you,
And whistle and I'll be there.

XXXI

Because I liked you better
Than suits a man to say,
It irked you, and I promised
To throw the thought away.

To put the world between us
We parted stiff and dry;
'Goodbye,' said you, 'Forget me.'
'I will, no fear,' said I.

If here, where clover whitens
The dead man's knoll, you pass
And no tall flower to meet you
Starts in the trefoiled grass,

Halt by the headstone naming
The heart no longer stirred,
And say the lad that loved you
Was the one that kept his word.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Saturday, February 14, 2009