Greenwich Village... Provincetown... Travel with Frenchy Tonneau through these legendary gay meccas during the sixties and seventies when lesbian life changed forever.
Lee Lynch published her first lesbian fiction in “The Ladder” in the 1960s. Naiad Press issued Toothpick House, Old Dyke Tales, and more. Her novel The Swashbuckler was presented in NYC as a play scripted by Sarah Schulman. New Victoria Publishers brought out Rafferty Street, the last book of Lynch’s Morton River Valley Trilogy. Her backlist is becoming available in electronic format from Bold Strokes Books. Her newest novels are Beggar of Love and The Raid from Bold Strokes. Her recent short stories can be found in Romantic Interludes (Bold Strokes Books), Women In Uniform (Regal Crest) and at www.readtheselips.com. Her reviews and feature articles have appeared in such publications as “The San Francisco Chronicle,” “The Advocate” and “The Lambda Book Report.” Lynch’s syndicated column, “The Amazon Trail,” runs in venues such as boldstrokesbooks.com, justaboutwrite.com, “Letters From Camp Rehoboth,” and “On Top Magazine.”
Lee Lynch was honored by the Golden Crown Literary Society (GCLS) as the first recipient (for The Swashbuckler) and namesake of The Lee Lynch Classics Award, which will honor outstanding works in Lesbian Fiction published before awards and honors were given. She also is a recipient of the Alice B. Reader Award for Lesbian Fiction, the James Duggins Mid-Career Author Award, which honors LGBT mid-career novelists of extraordinary talent and service to the LGBT community, and was inducted into the Saints and Sinners Literary Hall of Fame. In 2010 Beggar of Love received the GCLS Ann Bannon Readers’ Choice Award and the ForeWord Magazine Book of the Year Bronze Award in Gay/Lesbian Fiction. She has twice been nominated for Lambda Literary Awards and her novel Sweet Creek (Bold Strokes Books) was a GCLS award finalist.
The Swashbuckler is a true masterpiece. First published in the mid-1980s, it’s written in a way that’s timeless, making it possible for anyone in any generation to get a taste of the butch experience of the 1960s and 70s. In what can only be described as a stroke of genius, we get a couple of chapters in the first person from Mercedes, as if we’re reading her diary, even though most of the book is written in the third person from Frenchy’s perspective. It shakes up the reading experience in a way that satisfied my desire to know more about Mercedes and her life, while simultaneously stirring curiosity about what’s up with Frenchy at the same time.
Lynch is an icon. No doubt about it. This book, written in 1985, is a gritty but very real portrayal of the NYC queer scene in the 60's and early 70's. It's just classic.
Written in two POV's, Mercedes and Frenchy, although Frenchy gets the lions work through most of the book. It's a 12 year story of growth and self acceptance. Oh the boxes we tick sometimes, and the roles we associate with them. We've come a long way Lee. Such a long way indeed.
This should be a classic bit of required reading for all queers and lesbians. I don't know how I made it to my mid-40s without even hearing about it. It sits beside (or right after) Stone Butch Blues to show how the butch/femme dynamic grew and changed in the Village and elsewhere. This book doesn't have the gender dysphoria of Feinberg. Instead it has a depiction of mental illness and racial and socioeconomic disparities.
Both Frenchy and Mercedes's growth throughout the years the book spans were a wonder to witness.
This was a refreshing, fun, and eye opening read. This story took place well before I was born, but I couldn't help but feel nostalgic at times. The music, the atmosphere, the different mind frames, the clothes, even the au naturel way women groomed themselves back then. We follow Frenchy, a 4'11 leather-clad, diddy bopping, fag smoking, butch, in this tale of self discovery, love, lust, sex, and the ever present homophobia as well as racism. The story took place over almost a decade, and in that time, we saw a lot of growth within Frenchy, and all the side characters as well. Lynch wrote it in a way that showed how different lesbians thought in the 60's. Butch were butch and femmes were femmes. There was no soft butch, androgynous, tomboy, chap/lipstick femme. Kiki was used a couple times, indicating a "flipped woman", someone who appeared fluid between femme and butch. It was also unheard of for two femmes or two butches to be romantically involved. I felt there was some heteronormative behaviour, showing us that it was the butches job to lead, take control, light her cigarette, make love to her and only her and not receive anything back in return. I found the butch way of thinking back then bordered on how heterosexuals viewed a straight relationship where the woman cooked and cleaned and the man made the money and fixed things around the house. We got to see a lot through Frenchy's eyes and she seemed to think that all straight women who were in a relationship with a man were miserable and exhausted. I couldn't blame her, because all the straight women were depicted as just that; miserable and exhausted. At one point, she had to ask herself why women "chose" to be straight. Now, we all know it's not a choice to be straight or gay, but I thought it was interesting to hear a gay say the exact same thing straights have been saying about homosexuals. Frenchy struggled with keeping up appearances, especially around her mother, who still thought her twenty-something daughter who still lived at home was straight, and people she worked with. But when it was time to join the gay masses downtown New York, well, her short stride grew longer, her pompadour oozed a slickness only a dyke could manage, and her walk, "diddy bopping" was strong in its presence. When I first met Frenchy, she was typically a bull-dyke, but over time, experience, and maturity, her demeanor softened and she learned to ease up and not try so hard. I rather enjoyed the moment when Frenchy got her period and needed supplies because she was making a mess in her jeans. I liked that it embarrassed her because she thought it ruined her "butch image", even if she was aware she was still a uterus bearing woman. Having her period unexpectedly, humbled and humiliated her to the point where I think it helped her growth process into a more mature butch. Frenchy met a few different characters throughout the decade, some were okay and some, one in particular, was awful and wrong for Frenchy in all the bad ways. Not wanting to spoil anything, but at one point Frenchy developed an intimate relationship with a woman who repulsed me.
I wouldn't say this was a romance story, but there was love involved and an HEA.
Such a beautiful story! Definitely one of the beast I've read. While some persons think on this story as a "portrait of a butch" I see it more like a very accurate description of the changes in lesbian life between the 60's and the early 70's, in which butch-femme role play were replaced by lesbian-feminism. One of the most beautiful's thing I noted is it's accurate and respectful narrative from the point of view of a woman of color (Mercedes), something very strange in white authors. The writting of Lee Lynch is so beautiful! I definitely going to start to read her more often.
There is not much butch4butch/masc4masc fiction out there. Alison Bechdel, being a god, has of course graced us with some gems but take away her work and what is left? Certainly nothing that has ever gone mainstream enough for me to get from a library. (If ever someone is reading this and thinking, what a fool, what about ___, please I beg you tell me what you know. I live in hope that I’m just out of the loop.) I found the Swashbuckler on a barren little butch-butch goodreads shelf and was able to borrow it from a local academic library.
It was the story I have been waiting for. Two 60s butches falling in love!!! The character development, the cover, the sensibilities! The history!!! Here is an example of one of many perfect lines:
“She tried to be cool walking to her apartment, but how do you walk butch with a shopping bag hanging off your arm and groceries towering over your head?”
There is soooo much lesbian fiction getting published right now, and most of it I read and think “okay but that’s not it.” Where is the obsessing over what it means to be gay? Where are the exes and the exes’ exes? Where is the stress over fitting in with other queer people and with straight people? Where are the weird gender feelings? THIS WAS IT. This in so many ways captures my experience right now as a dyke in her 20s. Love love love.
4 stars because it was clumsy in a couple of different ways as well. Writing could have used more refining, everything was a little overwrought, and I thought the writing of characters of color could have used a little more care. Also the constant use of the word “crazy” instead of a diagnosis for one character. It seemed like a literary choice rather than one of historical accuracy and I wasn’t totally on board.
The last chapter was a pure gift and made me cry. Loved the references to pride, groups like the Third World Women’s Alliance forming, and how quickly things were changing for queer people. And the sweet, thoughtful happy endings for all the characters <3
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Damn. This book was a rough and wonderful read. I almost quit at the start with the very dated and gross treatment of femme characters, but the politics expanded beyond that and challenged the dichotomy of the times. Super great books. One of the best from my lesbian book club.
I really really loved this story, which I read in the jacuzzi of the country house my partner rented for my 30th birthday. Very niche literature, absolutely- but retro queer novels bring me a lot of joy. I was lucky enough to spend my birthday with dear friends who quarantined for weeks and got repeatedly tested- while accepting the risk that is associating with health care workers. Gentle souls who held my hands through pandemic nursing trauma, through years of heartbreaks and new loves and forever loves- I find these glimpses of these beautiful, messy, tenacious queers (&QA) in Frenchies story. Other than just the nostalgia associated with a book read in a very specific time and place, there were a few scenes of raw truth and universality that I had to reread a few times. The community taking care of their own. The feeling of un-queering on the metro when leaving a queer space for a hetero one. The gentle transition from lovers to close friends. And my favorite- Frenchie getting her period in her favorite jeans while picking up chicks in PTown. Who hasn’t had their game squashed by Day One Period Vibes?? So in summary- delightful story, perhaps not for everyone.
Aw man, this book really got to me. Not to get too personal (but why not), but there were things about my life in this book that I've never encountered in fiction before and it kind of made me get fiction on a whole new level. Sure, a person can and should relate to characters who aren't much like them, but it definitely got to me reading about a little thirty-something butch who works retail, cares what her mom thinks of her, is obsessed with her hair, and likes other butch girls.
That being said, things sure have changed for the lesbian community! We've come a long way, baby. I'm glad I live now. You have to feel a bit melancholy about what we've lost, though, and that's also what this book is about. Is it good that the bars are all closing, because we were all drinking too much anyway? Is butch/femme regressive or fundamental to our culture? Do we really want to march in the streets with a bunch of dudes in speedos? Turns out we all feel differently about it, because we're all different people. Still, wherever we're going, it's nicer to head that way together. Thanks for this one, Lee. It feels like a gift.
Seminal gay fiction that gets it, just about all of it. The way queer lives intersect and clash with each other along with so many other societal conditions and identities that affect queer people disproportionately, they way they turn us against each other. I'm a terminally online trans woman living in 2022 and it wasn't that difficult for me to relate to Frenchy, making her queerness her whole identity to make up for being forced to hide that aspect of herself. I usually roll my eyes at old school cis lesbian shit, I feel like a different species from those people, but Lynch GOT me. My main issue is that I would have liked to see any black characters whose internal lives were actually central to the narrative, and there was some painfully dated "critique" of figures like Marsha P Johnson and Sylvia Rivera that, while technically being espoused by a narrator rather than the narrative itself, goes unchallenged in an uncomfortable way. But of course nothing is perfect, I just wish all books were as close as The Swashbuckler.
In terms of writing style, it was not the most beautiful thing I've ever read. Prose was pretty standard, a little awkward. The dynamics between Frenchy & Mercedes were super interesting though - I have always wondered how lesbians came up against the boundaries of these kind of rigid sexual role systems, ingenious & resilient & useful as they were for facilitating woman-loving within the broader culture of het gender/sex roles. Although I can't say that Frenchy nor Mercedes really made me fall in love with them (like... even at the end of it all they still had some sh*tty views abt how to contribute mutually to a partnership & some views of "femmes" that make me cringe), I'm glad that this kind of literature exists. Interesting!
This book has a good story, and it was nice to see the characters mature over time from shallow and messed-up to self-aware and together. It was also interesting to read about a time and a subculture both going through a great deal of flux. However, it was often hard for me to get past the dialogue, which a lot of times is very on the nose; the characters frequently psychoanalyze each other with pinpoint precision, in a way that seemed more designed to move the story along than to present a realistic depiction of how people react to each other.
Great Read. It is interesting to look back and see how Lesbians seemed to fall into that old Heterosexual Trap “Which one of you is the Man”. I came out in the early 80’s it was still that way. Thankfully we now accept Women Loving with women without those having to apply to roles. Frenchy and Mercedes’ story of their struggles to accept themselves and figuring out how to be live their lives and find Happiness is encouraging. Nice stroll through history Glad I found this book, which I wouldn’t have with out Jae’s reading challenge.
I loved reading this book. I didnt like the main character at first but she grew on me with her development. Great writing and interesting dynamics. It is great to see a glimpse of the community from the past.
It’s 1960 and Frenchy Tonneau is a suave young butch who is in the closet. She works as a grocery store cashier in the Bronx and spends her weekends at lesbian bars in Greenwich Village, where she has perfected the rituals of masculine seduction but can’t bring her femmes home to the house she shares with her widowed mother. At first, Frenchy idolizes bar life, which provides her with community, romance, and the freedom to be butch, but as she gets a little older, she finds herself drawn to women who challenge her lifestyle. There’s Pam, an uninhibited Jewish hippie femme artist, who is out and has straight friends. She also isn’t satisfied with just getting done in the bedroom or dating one girl at a time. And there’s Mercedes, a Puerto Rican butch single mom who believes butches can date each other. Through these women, Frenchy confronts the ways in which the racism and rigid role playing of bar culture have confined her. Gradually, she and her friends take the steps they need to live more expansive and authentic lives while not giving up on the bar scene—or their butch and femme identities. This book isn’t perfect—the writing can be clunky and there are timeline errors an editor should have picked up—but Lynch succeeds in her homage to and update of lesbian pulp novels, offering up memorable characters, lots of heart, and a richly detailed portrayal of gay girl life in the 1960s that explores the societal shifts of that era.
Another sentimental lesbian novel...but this time about a butch who falls in love with *gasp* another butch...or alternately a book about two women who take ten years to get their lives together so they can be in love. The descriptions of NYC from the late 60s and early 70s are really interesting. It also deals with issues of race and of course queer kinships. I enjoyed this book, though it is a product of its time. Totally the kind of book you take to the beach or read on the subway to kill time.
My favorite Lee lynch book. I love the setting of New York in the 1960's it's a good history lesson. I read it when I was very young, so I think it was somehow instrumental in my developement.