{"id":6752,"date":"2007-06-28T15:59:29","date_gmt":"2007-06-28T19:59:29","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=6752"},"modified":"2015-05-30T11:48:30","modified_gmt":"2015-05-30T15:48:30","slug":"macho-macho-man","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=6752","title":{"rendered":"Billy Budd Is a Macho Macho Man"},"content":{"rendered":"

I rarely say I “hate” anything (unless it’s applesauce and coconut – damn you, Tom<\/a>, daaaaamn you!) but I have a vivid memory of haaating<\/i> Billy Budd, Sailor and Selected Tales<\/a>\"\"<\/i> in high school. I had to read a lot of “hard” books in high school – Scarlet Letter<\/i>, Tess of the D’Urbevilles<\/i> – and while they were hard to get through sometimes, i didn’t despise<\/i> them. But I despised Billy Budd<\/i>. I have no idea why, though. I remember this – I remember thinking Billy (the character) was boringly <\/i>good – unambiguously good – a goody two-shoes, actually – and I had contempt for him because of that. I still have contempt for goody two-shoes. So that’s no surprise. And that’s all I remember. Billy Budd was no Sydney Carton<\/a>, is what I’m saying. Now THERE’S a character I want to read about it – and I felt the same way at 15. But Billy Budd? You want to put a frog in his bed just to see him freak out. And then point and laugh at him.<\/p>\n

Uhm, yeah. Don’t think that was Melville’s intent.<\/p>\n

So over the past 5 or 6 years, I gave myself the task to go back and read my entire high school reading list (not all at once, of course, but eventually). And thank God I did. Tess<\/i>! Moby Dick<\/i>! Love ’em all.<\/p>\n

But my hatred-memory of Billy Budd<\/i> remained.<\/p>\n

So finally, I decided to bite the bullet – and put Billy Budd<\/i> on my Summer Reading Challenge<\/a>. I don’t enjoy random free-floating hate. It’s my least favorite emotion.<\/p>\n

I’ve finished 2 of the books on my challenge (Never Let Me Go<\/i> – by Kazuo Ishiguro – post here<\/a> and here<\/a> – and Veronica<\/i>, by Mary Gaitskill – post here<\/a>) – and so what the hell – Billy Budd<\/i> is 90 pages long. Just DO it, Sheila. Even if you hate it again, what do you care? It’s 90 pages!<\/p>\n

So I’m 2 chapters in.<\/p>\n

Imagine my surprise to find that it is actually a homoerotic novel full of hard bodies, bronzed muscles, physical descriptions of men hanging off of masts – descriptions that go on for (no lie) an entire page, words like “specimen” and “Greek” sprinkled throughout. It’s one of the gay-est things I’ve ever read. Like: OPENLY gay. Like showtunes night at Sidetrax gay. Gay gay gay.<\/p>\n

It makes sense when you know a bit about Melville – but I’m actually surprised how OBVIOUS it is. At the 3rd reference in 2 paragraphs to ideal Greek statues, and bronzed brows – I’m thinking, “Uhm, was this book ghost-written by Jean Genet or something?”<\/p>\n

I’ll report more when I’m more than 2 chapters in – but so far so good. I’m putting the Billy Budd hate to rest! I’m enjoying it. I still wish Billy Budd was more human – but it’s certainly not AGONY to read like it was way back when. I love it when that happens.<\/p>\n

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