Book Review Friday - Slow Dance in Paris

If you're looking for a gentle lesbian romance story, this is it.

Mary Wright's Slow Dance in Paris follows the adventures of Sophie, an unsophisticated young American fresh from high school in the early 1970's. Confused about a sexual liaison she has with a hippie after smoking hashish, unsure if she's been raped or not, Sophie puts everything behind her. She's finishing a grand tour of Europe when she meets a pair of charming lesbians. At their invitation, she goes to her first ever gay bar, where she dances with Genvieve, a fascinating woman who captures her imagination.

Is Sophie gay? She's had attractions to girls before, but has also chalked up two boyfriends in her past. Although unsure about her orientation, every time she's with Genvieve the young American heroine finds herself drawn closer to the exotic world of lesbianism. However, just after they begin a tentative relationship Sophie must move to another town where her school is located.

Separated by kilometers and the restraints of job and school, Sophie is drawn closer and closer to the idea of being a lesbian, even as the differences between having a girlfriend as opposed to a boyfriend become embarrassingly clear. People who were friends treat her differently, and she finds herself restricted in ways unexperienced by straights. It makes her uncomfortable, but she soon forgets everything when held in the strong arms of her new lover.

Eventually everything builds to a head as Sophie deals with an unwanted pregnancy, a mail strike, and massive guilt over her choice to have an abortion. Will her burgeoning relationship with Genvieve continue to grow if the Parisienne learns the truth, or will Sophie's choices lead her back to the world of heterosexuals and so called normality?

Slow Dance in Paris is an easy, gentle read, one that takes you into the mind of a young woman during a time when women's liberation and gay pride were still in their infancies. The city of Paris, and the surrounding landscape are artfully captured by the author, who deftly weaves them into her story as characters in their own right. If you're looking for a lighthearted romantic story, spend some lazy afternoons curled up with Mary Wright's Slow Dance in Paris. You won't be sorry.

Fred Phelps - Unwilling Gay Ally

Fred Phelps hated fags. I don't think anyone can dispute this fact. He was nearly rabid on the subject, and some have suggested that he was tossed on a sea of madness for decades.

It was this very craziness that made him such a valuable ally in the fight for gay rights. He and his family church became instruments of change in the culture war over acceptance of gay rights.

Phelps' ugly persona, almost a caricature of fanaticism, held a mirror up to people who had casually denounced gay rights as special rights, or voted against gay marriage because they vaguely thought it was icky. While gay activists held civil conversations with everyday people, as more and more closeted people came out to their friends, families and co-workers, as prominent politicians, celebrities, and artists voiced their support, Fred Phelps flaunted the ugliness of bigotry back in their faces.

As votes were held people who had never had to think about it before confronted their knee-jerk reactions to gay marriage. On one hand they saw the happy faces of joyous people celebrating legal wedding ceremonies, and on the other they were confronted with ugly striped signs shouting judgmental messages. One side said LOVE IS LOVE, and the other side said GOD HATES FAGS. Which message is more appealing, really?

And the tide began to shift. I felt it and watched with relief as one by one states agreed that having two separate classes of people in America is unconstitutional. As court after legislature have come to their senses, so has the public because the idea of being as horrifically uncivil as the Westboro Baptist Church is much more uncomfortable than accepting that Anna and Eve want to marry, and Patrick and Bill are adopting.

So thank you, Fred Phelps (a phrase I never expected to use). If you hadn't spread your virulence far and wide, we'd still be battling one court case at a time, and trying to persuade one representative or senator after another. We'd still be taking one step forward, and two steps back. But now, because of the ugliness of Fred Phelps and his family church, Americans are choosing to side with LOVE instead of HATE.

Off you go, Fred, a true servant of your God, an instrument in the battle between good and evil. Too bad you were the face of evil, but you can tell it all to Judas over a drink at Hell's Bitchin'. He felt a little used in the end, himself.

I'd ordinarily send someone off with a wish that they rest in peace but for Fred Phelps, not so much.