AJ arrives in Seattle, fresh out of the closet and dreaming of art school and self-discovery. On his first venture into a gay bar, he spills a drink on drag queen K, who introduces him to John and Steven. The four of them (and a few others) become a found family that pulls together–and pulls apart.
I live in the sort of bubble where gay Asians aren’t at all unusual. What is unusual is depictions of Asian men with nuance and detail. John is a gamer–but he’s also a kinky bear, a transracial Korean adoptee with a Black mom and white dad, and has a big ol’ soft spot for his roommate. Steven is a twink who uses his body to get what he wants, morals be damned–but he’s also a really good nurse. AJ’s young and inexperienced, but also has a strong sense of self, sharp insight, and a streak of romantic showmanship. And K–well, like all the best drag queens, K must be seen to be truly appreciated. I won’t ruin her story for you–but it’s well worth the page turns.
Good graphic novels are always cleverly detailed, and so each chapter of Gaysians begins with an expression from a character’s heritage language–Japanese, Korean, Vietnamese or Tagalog. Color and paneling are used to flow seamlessly through time, space and emotion, from the neon lights of a sweaty nightclub to the gray doldrums of a depressed morning after. The art is the story, here, and the story is the art. The story itself isn’t particularly new, but I appreciate the way it contextualizes a lot of old tropes culturally.
Asian-American identity, from a Black vantage point, seems tricky. On the one hand, it’s a weird construct made more obviously artificial by the racism involved in lumping everyone with ancestry from the world’s largest continent into one marginalized category. On the other, it’s a powerful means of reclamation via solidarity, and–dare I say it?–an example of how America, at its best, does multiculturalism really well. Curato doesn’t shy away from the racial and cultural themes at all, and carries that honesty through into his portrayals of gayness, too. This book is saturated with gay culture and sexuality–and y’all know how I feel about #ownnormal. Love. It.
A simple latte order and appreciation of a happy ending to Gaysians.
(Fellow readers! Happy post-Pride! This is one of the most pleasant things I read this year, believe it or not. If you’re interested in other reads by gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender authors, I have a booklist right here for ya. If you want to help us keep the lights on round these parts, visit the Equal Opportunity Bookshop and buy something–we get paid a commission for every purchase, affiliate-style. Now, go and read something good! Peace!)
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