LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth |
PAST Out |
by Rawley Grau |
Why Was Judy Garland So Important to Gays?
When New York City police raided the Stonewall Inn on Friday, June 27, 1969, they couldn't have expected much resistance; raids on gay bars were fairly routine affairs. But the Stonewall's patrons were in no mood to cooperate with the authorities. That very afternoon they had buried one of their dearest friends: Judy Garland, whose pain and tenacity, expressed so deeply in her songs, reflected their own struggles. This time, instead of letting themselves be led away in handcuffs, they fought back against the police, grief turning into rage, and ignited a liberation movement that continues today. This, at least, is one explanation of why the Stonewall Riots happened when they did. The timing, in any case, hardly seems coincidental, for in the 20th century no performer was as idolized by gay men as Judy Garland. The 47-year-old singer and movie star, who had long been addicted to pills, died from an overdose of barbiturates early Sunday morning, June 22, at her home in Londonit was most likely a tragic accident, not suicide. More than 22,000 mourners turned out for the public viewing in New York on Thursday and Friday; among them were hundreds, if not thousands, of gay men. For nearly two decades, gays had been obsessed with Judy Garland, and this obsession had fostered a kind of community. Gay men would refer to each other as "friends of Dorothy"a probable allusion to Garland's role in The Wizard of Oz. To find out if someone else was gay, they would mention their Judy Garland records. Attending her performances became an experience of solidarity for gay men, a "community of feeling," as one British fan described a 1960 concert: "It was as if the fact that we had gathered to see Garland gave us permission to be gay in public for once." Garland's special bond with gay fans began in 1950, when she was fired by her studio, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, and attempted suicide. According to film historian Richard Dyer, these events signaled "a sudden break with Garland's uncomplicated and ordinary MGM image"; no longer was she just the girl next door. Less than a year later, Judy Garland made a triumphant comeback, not in film but with her concert tour, dazzling critics and audiences alike, first in London, then in New York. "The history of my life is in my songs," Garland said at the beginning of her concerts. Torch songs like "You Made Me Love You" gave way to other songs, like the determined "Come Rain or Come Shine"all delivered with an emotional honesty few could resist. Even the burlesque "I Don't Care" conveyed a message that resonated with gay fans: "Don't try to rearrange me, / There's nothing can change me, / 'Cause I don't care!" To close the show, Garland would sit on the edge of the stage and sing "Over the Rainbow." Her life story served, too, as the not so hidden subtext for two of her post-MGM movies, A Star Is Born (1954) and I Could Go on Singing (1963), both tales of loss and endurance. Garland's troubles were well-known: domination by a controlling stage mother, then by callous studio executives; anxiety over her appearance; turbulent marriages; illness, mood swings, and addictions. Gay men related to her pain, but more importantly, they were inspired by the indomitable spirit that transformed pain into art. They responded, too, to something vaguely androgynous in her film persona: she was usually boyish, rarely demure, and for her show-stopping musical numbers she would often don black tie and tails or a clown's baggy trousers. For her part, Garland valued her gay fans, though she could also joke about them. "When I die I have visions of fags singing 'Over the Rainbow' and the flag at Fire Island being flown at half mast," she reportedly said. Still, it's worth noting that, in her personal life, Garland was repeatedly drawn to gay or bisexual men. Two of her five husbandsdirector Vincente Minnelli and actor Mark Herronwere gay or bisexual, as were at least two extramarital lovers. Even her future son-in-law, Peter Allen, whom she introduced to daughter Liza Minnelli, proved to be gay. And although Garland herself was predominantly heterosexual, she was rumored to have had affairs with women, including the publicist MGM assigned to spy on her. Garland's attraction to gay men may have been linked to her relationship with her father, Frank Gumm, a former Vaudevillian and movie house manager who on several occasions was run out of town because of dalliances with teenage boys. Gumm died when Judy was 13, not long after she signed with MGM. "I wasn't close to my father, but I wanted to be all my life," Garland later said. "He was a gay Irish gentleman and very good-looking. And he wanted to be close to me, too, but we never did have time together." Perhaps even more than most performers, Garland craved the love of her audience. "All those who applauded her, who stood up and cheered...were providing her with an identity," suggests biographer Gerald Clarke. And for many gay men in her audience, she was, through her remarkably honest performances, returning the favor. Rawley Grau has won four Vice Versa Awards for his writing on gay and lesbian culture. He can be reached in care of Letters from CAMP Rehoboth or at GayNestor@aol.com. |
LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth, Vol. 11, No. 7, June 15, 2001. |