Reinaldo Arenas' Before Night Falls

[Guest BenDover]

I just finished reading 'Before Night Falls' by Reinaldo Arenas, and was deeply moved by the book. One part I found interesting and thought others might enjoy commenting on. I hope I can put this in context.

 

Arenas writes about the atmosphere of Cuban homosexuality immediately after Castro's revolution. For some reason, it rang true to my own experience of growing up gay in the early '70s, and wondered if it sparked any thoughts from any of you guys.

 

'...I think that in Cuba there was never more fucking going on than in those years, the decade of the sixties, which was precisely when all the new laws against homosexuals came into being, when the persecutions started and concentration camps were opened, when the sexual act became taboo while the "new man" was being proclaimed and masculinity exalted. Many of the young men who marched in Revolutionary Square applauded Fidel Castro, and many of the soldiers who marched, rifle in hand and with martial expressions, came to our rooms after the parades to cuddle up naked, and show ther real selves, sometimes revealing a tenderness and true enjoyment such as I have not been able to find again anywhere else in the world.

 

Perhaps deep down they realized they were breaking into the realm of the forbidden, the dangerous, and the damned. Perhaps that is the reason why, when that moment came, they showed such fullness, such radiance, and enjoyed every instant in the awreness that it might be their last, that it could cost them many years in jail. There was, moreover, no prostitution. It was pleasure for pleasure's sake, the craving of one body for another, the need to find fulfillment. Sexual pleasure betwen two men was a conspiracy, something that happened in the shadows or in plain daylight, but always forbidden; a look, a wink, a gesture, a sign, was enough to start the sequence that resulted in such full enjoyment. The adventure in itself, even if fulfillment did not come with the desired body, was already a pleasure, a mystery, a surprise. To enter a movie theater was to figure out whom we would sit next to, and whether that young man over there would stretch out his leg toward us. To reach over slowly with one hand and touch his thigh, and then to dare a little more and feel the part of his pants where that penis wanted to break through the fabric, to masturbate him right then and there during an old American movie, to see how he would ejaculate, and then leave before the movie ended; and perhaps I would never see him again, after having seen his face only in profile. What does it matter, he was surely a wonderful guy.'

 

It is the last line that most touches me in this prose. Many judgments have been made about the sexual behavior of gay men, but the one constant I have always had in almost every sexual experience I have had has always been, "geez, he was a great guy." I think part of it was that there was so much risk involved, so much to lose, or so I thought. There was an intimacy simply in the fact that the two of us were sending the signals to each other, risking, chancing, and then, if things worked out, becoming completely vulnerable in nakedness. An innocence, an awesome passion, an intense desire for connection between the two of us that made everything right in the world, even if it was just for a few moments. It was wonderful, and I miss it.

 

Sorry this was long. Just wanted to share it with someone.

[Guest BenDover]

I just finished reading 'Before Night Falls' by Reinaldo Arenas, and was deeply moved by the book. One part I found interesting and thought others might enjoy commenting on. I hope I can put this in context.

 

Arenas writes about the atmosphere of Cuban homosexuality immediately after Castro's revolution. For some reason, it rang true to my own experience of growing up gay in the early '70s, and wondered if it sparked any thoughts from any of you guys.

 

'...I think that in Cuba there was never more fucking going on than in those years, the decade of the sixties, which was precisely when all the new laws against homosexuals came into being, when the persecutions started and concentration camps were opened, when the sexual act became taboo while the "new man" was being proclaimed and masculinity exalted. Many of the young men who marched in Revolutionary Square applauded Fidel Castro, and many of the soldiers who marched, rifle in hand and with martial expressions, came to our rooms after the parades to cuddle up naked, and show ther real selves, sometimes revealing a tenderness and true enjoyment such as I have not been able to find again anywhere else in the world.

 

Perhaps deep down they realized they were breaking into the realm of the forbidden, the dangerous, and the damned. Perhaps that is the reason why, when that moment came, they showed such fullness, such radiance, and enjoyed every instant in the awreness that it might be their last, that it could cost them many years in jail. There was, moreover, no prostitution. It was pleasure for pleasure's sake, the craving of one body for another, the need to find fulfillment. Sexual pleasure betwen two men was a conspiracy, something that happened in the shadows or in plain daylight, but always forbidden; a look, a wink, a gesture, a sign, was enough to start the sequence that resulted in such full enjoyment. The adventure in itself, even if fulfillment did not come with the desired body, was already a pleasure, a mystery, a surprise. To enter a movie theater was to figure out whom we would sit next to, and whether that young man over there would stretch out his leg toward us. To reach over slowly with one hand and touch his thigh, and then to dare a little more and feel the part of his pants where that penis wanted to break through the fabric, to masturbate him right then and there during an old American movie, to see how he would ejaculate, and then leave before the movie ended; and perhaps I would never see him again, after having seen his face only in profile. What does it matter, he was surely a wonderful guy.'

 

It is the last line that most touches me in this prose. Many judgments have been made about the sexual behavior of gay men, but the one constant I have always had in almost every sexual experience I have had has always been, "geez, he was a great guy." I think part of it was that there was so much risk involved, so much to lose, or so I thought. There was an intimacy simply in the fact that the two of us were sending the signals to each other, risking, chancing, and then, if things worked out, becoming completely vulnerable in nakedness. An innocence, an awesome passion, an intense desire for connection between the two of us that made everything right in the world, even if it was just for a few moments. It was wonderful, and I miss it.

 

Sorry this was long. Just wanted to share it with someone.

[Guest cp8036]

Thanks for that post. I will check the book out. I am headed to Cuba next month.

[Guest cp8036]

Thanks for that post. I will check the book out. I am headed to Cuba next month.

[Guest george]

I also read the book a few years ago and found it fascinating. One of those books I read in one day, just couldn't put it down.

 

The movie, for you too lazy to read , is also excellent, and offers a great view of just how grim life is inside Castro's Cuba.

 

I also visited there a few short years ago and found it suffocating in its repression. If you speak the language you will

realize this at all times, if you don't and have to rely on the "government's view" of paradise, good luck in forming your own opinions. Cuba today is nothing more than a prison, with most people scheming and trying to find a way out of it, not just to the U.S. but anywhere. Great looking people though.

[Guest george]

I also read the book a few years ago and found it fascinating. One of those books I read in one day, just couldn't put it down.

 

The movie, for you too lazy to read , is also excellent, and offers a great view of just how grim life is inside Castro's Cuba.

 

I also visited there a few short years ago and found it suffocating in its repression. If you speak the language you will

realize this at all times, if you don't and have to rely on the "government's view" of paradise, good luck in forming your own opinions. Cuba today is nothing more than a prison, with most people scheming and trying to find a way out of it, not just to the U.S. but anywhere. Great looking people though.

[Will]

Thanks, Ben, for that post and for your thoughts. The other night I was talking with some French friends (a gay couple) about the movie; they said that they had been moved to tears by it, as was I. However, neither they nor I had read the novel itself. When we all acknowledged that, we started talking about how little we actually know about the experiences of gay men in other parts of the world. There is, of course, a myriad of differences of values, ways of negotiating, and so forth. One problem with those of us who live in the U.S., I think, is that we like to believe (even if unconsciously) that everybody else in the world is exactly like us. They aren't.

 

But some things we have in common. One of them is need, desire for intimacy. Arenas' second paragraph is more moving in that way than any moment in the movie that I remember. And I agree with you about that last line. They are great guys. It takes courage to stretch out that leg in the theater, just as it takes courage to reach out with the hand. It's a courage that I have often failed to find in myself -- better, to require of myself -- and it's one of the few genuine regrets of my life. Until this morning, in fact, I've never thought about the fact that reaching out for intimacy with another person has almost always been a dangerous thing for most gay men. Those who manage to do so, even awkwardly or mistakenly, are men of courage and character. They are "great guys." Another movie/novel that comes to mind along those lines is KISS OF THE SPIDER WOMAN.

 

And you've made my day!

[Will]

Thanks, Ben, for that post and for your thoughts. The other night I was talking with some French friends (a gay couple) about the movie; they said that they had been moved to tears by it, as was I. However, neither they nor I had read the novel itself. When we all acknowledged that, we started talking about how little we actually know about the experiences of gay men in other parts of the world. There is, of course, a myriad of differences of values, ways of negotiating, and so forth. One problem with those of us who live in the U.S., I think, is that we like to believe (even if unconsciously) that everybody else in the world is exactly like us. They aren't.

 

But some things we have in common. One of them is need, desire for intimacy. Arenas' second paragraph is more moving in that way than any moment in the movie that I remember. And I agree with you about that last line. They are great guys. It takes courage to stretch out that leg in the theater, just as it takes courage to reach out with the hand. It's a courage that I have often failed to find in myself -- better, to require of myself -- and it's one of the few genuine regrets of my life. Until this morning, in fact, I've never thought about the fact that reaching out for intimacy with another person has almost always been a dangerous thing for most gay men. Those who manage to do so, even awkwardly or mistakenly, are men of courage and character. They are "great guys." Another movie/novel that comes to mind along those lines is KISS OF THE SPIDER WOMAN.

 

And you've made my day!

[Guest EricG]

Excellent post! I did not expected to find it here. Both the novel and the book are deeply moving. I am not exactly from Cuba but went through similar experiences while growing up in Latin America. The acting of Javier Bardem is amazing (saw the movie several times just to see his acting): I knew Reinaldo Arenas personally and it was an unforgettable experience to watch Bardem's portrait. Javier is not gay and does not look like Reinaldo Arenas, but I had the feeling he was becoming him (some straight actors do marvelous work getting profoundly into gay people feelings).

And, yes! Another movie you should see is KISS OF THE SPIDER WOMAN; not as good as Manuel Puig's novel, but an important cinematographic work anyway.

[Guest EricG]

Excellent post! I did not expected to find it here. Both the novel and the book are deeply moving. I am not exactly from Cuba but went through similar experiences while growing up in Latin America. The acting of Javier Bardem is amazing (saw the movie several times just to see his acting): I knew Reinaldo Arenas personally and it was an unforgettable experience to watch Bardem's portrait. Javier is not gay and does not look like Reinaldo Arenas, but I had the feeling he was becoming him (some straight actors do marvelous work getting profoundly into gay people feelings).

And, yes! Another movie you should see is KISS OF THE SPIDER WOMAN; not as good as Manuel Puig's novel, but an important cinematographic work anyway.

[Guest WetDream]

Glad to see there are other fans of Arenas’s fine book (by the way, I’m pretty sure that this is an autobiography – not a novel). If for no other reason, the film deserves the credit of bringing the work of one of the finest contemporary writers before a larger public. As a film, it was certainly a big step forward for director Julian Schnabel. His first work, Basquiat, based on the life of the painter, was marred by its refusal to discuss the artist’s homosexuality, its self-aggrandized portrait of the director (played in the movie by Gary Oldman), and the glorification of some of the more negative aspects of the art world of New York City of the time. The use of archival footage and the terrific soundtrack in BNF added terrifically to the film’s impact.

 

After I first saw the film version, I was disappointed at the sanitized version of Arenas that it presented. It totally missed his wild spirit and completely downplayed his promiscuity (Arenas claims to have bedded 2000+ guys while he lived in Havana). Could this be because both the director and actor are straight? I finally decided that this wasn’t the case. After all, homosexual directors/actors have been portraying straight characters forever, and there is no reason why the reverse couldn’t be true. I am sure that they made this decision so that it wouldn’t be so easy for a general audience to dismiss the real theme of the movie: the sexual/artistic oppression that characterizes a dictatorship (whether of the right or the left).

 

BNF is also an excellent example of filmmaking that is aimed beyond the gay audience and that deals compassionately with material that is of interest to both gay and straight viewers. It is filled with honest sentiment and not the saccharine sentimentality that ruined Philadelphia for many of us (a film endlessly discussed on a recent thread).

 

Another interesting aspect of both the film and the book is that it offers an alternate view of the United States as the “promised land.” Areanas (and others) may have welcomed the political freedom offered here, but being uprooted from their cultures destroyed his life.

[Guest WetDream]

Glad to see there are other fans of Arenas’s fine book (by the way, I’m pretty sure that this is an autobiography – not a novel). If for no other reason, the film deserves the credit of bringing the work of one of the finest contemporary writers before a larger public. As a film, it was certainly a big step forward for director Julian Schnabel. His first work, Basquiat, based on the life of the painter, was marred by its refusal to discuss the artist’s homosexuality, its self-aggrandized portrait of the director (played in the movie by Gary Oldman), and the glorification of some of the more negative aspects of the art world of New York City of the time. The use of archival footage and the terrific soundtrack in BNF added terrifically to the film’s impact.

 

After I first saw the film version, I was disappointed at the sanitized version of Arenas that it presented. It totally missed his wild spirit and completely downplayed his promiscuity (Arenas claims to have bedded 2000+ guys while he lived in Havana). Could this be because both the director and actor are straight? I finally decided that this wasn’t the case. After all, homosexual directors/actors have been portraying straight characters forever, and there is no reason why the reverse couldn’t be true. I am sure that they made this decision so that it wouldn’t be so easy for a general audience to dismiss the real theme of the movie: the sexual/artistic oppression that characterizes a dictatorship (whether of the right or the left).

 

BNF is also an excellent example of filmmaking that is aimed beyond the gay audience and that deals compassionately with material that is of interest to both gay and straight viewers. It is filled with honest sentiment and not the saccharine sentimentality that ruined Philadelphia for many of us (a film endlessly discussed on a recent thread).

 

Another interesting aspect of both the film and the book is that it offers an alternate view of the United States as the “promised land.” Areanas (and others) may have welcomed the political freedom offered here, but being uprooted from their cultures destroyed his life.

[trilingual]

Like others who have commented in this thread, I too was blown away by Javier Bardem's impersonation of Reinaldo Arenas. I didn't have the privilege of knowing Arenas, but Bardem inhabited the role and made me feel I had.

 

I was fortunate to meet and have a few words with Manuel Puig at a book-signing in Washington. Probably more than anyone, it was his writing, and especially "Kiss of the Spider Woman" that got me reading in Spanish again. If you're able to read in Spanish, try reading these novels in the original. It's easy to get lost in the sweep of the language and, in the case of Puig, the dialogue. His ear is unerring.

 

For another view from the Latin American world, try Jaime Bayly's "No se lo digas a nadie." In English I think it's called something like "Don't Tell Anyone." It's about the picaresque adventures of a contemporary young upper-middle-class man from Lima. Bayly manages to drive a stake through the heart of Opus Dei, Latin American ultra-conservatism, the Peruvian military, you name it. Although Bayly's reputedly straight (married with two kids) I can't believe this isn't totally autobiographical. He now lives in Miami, and I also can't believe he hasn't had lynch mobs waiting for him at the Lima airport when he goes back! There's a sequel to the book, but I haven't read it yet.

[trilingual]

Like others who have commented in this thread, I too was blown away by Javier Bardem's impersonation of Reinaldo Arenas. I didn't have the privilege of knowing Arenas, but Bardem inhabited the role and made me feel I had.

 

I was fortunate to meet and have a few words with Manuel Puig at a book-signing in Washington. Probably more than anyone, it was his writing, and especially "Kiss of the Spider Woman" that got me reading in Spanish again. If you're able to read in Spanish, try reading these novels in the original. It's easy to get lost in the sweep of the language and, in the case of Puig, the dialogue. His ear is unerring.

 

For another view from the Latin American world, try Jaime Bayly's "No se lo digas a nadie." In English I think it's called something like "Don't Tell Anyone." It's about the picaresque adventures of a contemporary young upper-middle-class man from Lima. Bayly manages to drive a stake through the heart of Opus Dei, Latin American ultra-conservatism, the Peruvian military, you name it. Although Bayly's reputedly straight (married with two kids) I can't believe this isn't totally autobiographical. He now lives in Miami, and I also can't believe he hasn't had lynch mobs waiting for him at the Lima airport when he goes back! There's a sequel to the book, but I haven't read it yet.

[Guest EricG]

I am sure you have already seen "Strawberry and Chocolate." It is very interesting to see the same problematic but inside the system. It was done under several constraints for obvious reasons, and had huge problems while being shot. The same thing happen with the original short story in which the movie is based: what in "Kiss of the Spider Woman" is a final encounter through a real love relationship, in Senel's short story and movie adaptation becomes just a fraternal embrace. By the way, Senel Paz's short story is autobiographical, which according to the most contemporary literary theory and criticism can be considered narrative (short story or novel). It is also interesting to note that the movie version of "After Midnight Falls" also encountered several constraints: it had to be softened in order to reach general American audiences (Arenas' autobiographical narrative text is hard to take even for American gay people: I have already had several discussions about this subject.

 

Fascinating subject. Thank you very much or bringing it into discussion.

[Guest EricG]

I am sure you have already seen "Strawberry and Chocolate." It is very interesting to see the same problematic but inside the system. It was done under several constraints for obvious reasons, and had huge problems while being shot. The same thing happen with the original short story in which the movie is based: what in "Kiss of the Spider Woman" is a final encounter through a real love relationship, in Senel's short story and movie adaptation becomes just a fraternal embrace. By the way, Senel Paz's short story is autobiographical, which according to the most contemporary literary theory and criticism can be considered narrative (short story or novel). It is also interesting to note that the movie version of "After Midnight Falls" also encountered several constraints: it had to be softened in order to reach general American audiences (Arenas' autobiographical narrative text is hard to take even for American gay people: I have already had several discussions about this subject.

 

Fascinating subject. Thank you very much or bringing it into discussion.

[Guest EricG]

A quite mediocre work. Interesting anyway.

[Guest EricG]

A quite mediocre work. Interesting anyway.

[trilingual]

I wouldn't say Bayly's work is at the same level as that of Puig or Arenas, but it's pretty good and got a lot of attention when it was published. Of course, part of that had to do with its exposure of upper-crust Limeño society, which hasn't been ruthlessly dissected very much (even though it richly deserves to be, from what it seems). Vargas Llosa pokes some big holes in Peruvian society, but from a heterosexual viewpoint. In that sense, Bayly is at a further remove and can see more easily the hypocrisy and surface gentility of the Peruvian upper class. With little effort, it wouldn't be hard to imagine the events of the book taking place among the upper class in many other countries in the region. They all tend to be very conservative, Catholic and racist. Not to mention smug. So it's interesting and entertaining to see an insider like Bayly take them on.

[trilingual]

I wouldn't say Bayly's work is at the same level as that of Puig or Arenas, but it's pretty good and got a lot of attention when it was published. Of course, part of that had to do with its exposure of upper-crust Limeño society, which hasn't been ruthlessly dissected very much (even though it richly deserves to be, from what it seems). Vargas Llosa pokes some big holes in Peruvian society, but from a heterosexual viewpoint. In that sense, Bayly is at a further remove and can see more easily the hypocrisy and surface gentility of the Peruvian upper class. With little effort, it wouldn't be hard to imagine the events of the book taking place among the upper class in many other countries in the region. They all tend to be very conservative, Catholic and racist. Not to mention smug. So it's interesting and entertaining to see an insider like Bayly take them on.

[Guest EricG]

I agree. That is why I added that it is an interesting novel anyway. It is important for us to have a space and a voice in literature. Until not too many years ago we were almost non-existent in our writing. Let's keep in touch about this subject.

[Guest EricG]

I agree. That is why I added that it is an interesting novel anyway. It is important for us to have a space and a voice in literature. Until not too many years ago we were almost non-existent in our writing. Let's keep in touch about this subject.

[trilingual]

In the non-fiction arena, has anyone read João Silverio Trevisan's "Devassos no Paraíso"? It's available in English as "Perverts in Paradise" and is a fascinating study on homosexuality in Brazil and its influence on Brazilian history and culture. Not only is he brilliant, Trevisan is a terrific writer, which makes his book all the more interesting. The first version, on which the English translation is based, is done from a Marxist analysis that I admit didn't always work for me when dealing with a history of sexuality. A more recent updated and revised edition has been published in Brazil, but hasn't yet been translated. By the time of the revision, the Wall had come down, the Soviet Union had disintegrated, and the Marxist analysis has mostly disappeared, but it continues to be a brilliant book, and a unique window on a fascinating culture. This isn't just a history of homosexuality in Brazil, it's a history of Brazil seen through the lens of homosexuality, which makes it virtually unique in my experience.

[trilingual]

In the non-fiction arena, has anyone read João Silverio Trevisan's "Devassos no Paraíso"? It's available in English as "Perverts in Paradise" and is a fascinating study on homosexuality in Brazil and its influence on Brazilian history and culture. Not only is he brilliant, Trevisan is a terrific writer, which makes his book all the more interesting. The first version, on which the English translation is based, is done from a Marxist analysis that I admit didn't always work for me when dealing with a history of sexuality. A more recent updated and revised edition has been published in Brazil, but hasn't yet been translated. By the time of the revision, the Wall had come down, the Soviet Union had disintegrated, and the Marxist analysis has mostly disappeared, but it continues to be a brilliant book, and a unique window on a fascinating culture. This isn't just a history of homosexuality in Brazil, it's a history of Brazil seen through the lens of homosexuality, which makes it virtually unique in my experience.

[Guest EricG]

I did not know about that book. I will put it on my priorities list. Thanks for the information!