Welcome back to Queer Comics from a Queer Perspective! I hope the new year is treating you well and that you're reading some great comics. I have one that I'd like to chat about. Please keep in mind, as always, these are only my opinions. There's no way to speak for all Queer people because we're not a monolith. Also, spoilers and queer history are ahead.
Let's talk about Party and Prey, where Steve Foxe and Steve Orlando share writing duties with Alex Sanchez on art. It's a serial killer horror thriller with a splash of sci-fi and a whole lot of social commentary. And, much like Grandma's cookie recipe that she never wrote down, this book is delicious.
It starts with an older man in a gay club. Alan experiences some of the youth obsession prevalent in our overall culture. Alan's called out for not giving a man his own age the time of day and ends up meeting a PYT named Scott. Alan brings Scott back to his place, where "Scott" turns out to be Terry. The horror begins, and Foxe and Orlando do everything to blow up exactly what you thought was going to happen. They play brilliantly with subverting expectations in every way possible.
From the relationship Queer people have had historically with the police, to the relationship between the younger and the older, to the relationships we have with ourselves, there's a lot to talk about in this book.
Alan's story is sad, perhaps even tragic in its own way. No, no way do I sympathize with him once the whole story is revealed. What's important to remember is that men of Alan's generation didn't get to enjoy the forward movement of the years before. After Stonewall, LGBTQ+ people could no longer be ignored. Things weren't great, but anti-gay laws were dropped in some states, people were coming out, a measure against gay teachers lost in California, Jimmy Carter met with gay lobbyists, some attitudes were changing, and then in 1981, after a series of articles in gay newspapers in NYC and San Francisco, an article appeared in the New York Times about "gay cancer." AIDS was decimating entire generations of people. Gay characters on TV, who no longer had to be the villains, disappeared. Many went back into the closet, and the fight for equality became a fight for survival. This is a highly simplified version of the late 70s/early 80s, and I would recommend The Stonewall Reader from the NYPL and Borrowed Time by Paul Monette. They're great books, but just a small part of a long, complicated, and very nuanced history of Queer people in America.
Detective Overall is the cop who believes there may be something to Terry/Scott's story. The other officers are less than friendly towards the LGBTQ+ community. If you've never learned about the history of Queer people and the law, well, it's not always pretty. (Read Indecent Advances by James Polchin or watch a documentary about Stonewall.) The reluctance of an older character to call the cops contrasts nicely with Terry's initial belief that the law works the same for everyone.
What I love most about this book is the same thing that I find most difficult about it. The line, "Thanks, but we never needed [help.]" This might be me reading into it, but it echoes a line from Harvey Firestein's Torch Song Trilogy, and I'm paraphrasing here, "I learned how to do the plumbing, and the sewing and everything else, because I couldn't rely on anyone else." It's a bittersweet note to play, but it hits home, especially in these times.
Should you read PARTY AND PREY? Yes, you should. If you've already read it, should you reread it? Yes, you should. Sometimes we have to live in a place that makes us slightly uncomfortable. And sometimes we should be reminded that the history we don't know, the ugly side of humanity that we turn a blind eye to, is always the side that comes back, over and over.
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