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The Golden Boy
This is the first autobiography to be published by The Haworth Press.This is the first autobiography to be published by Harrington Park Press.The place is New York City. The time is the decade before the plague of AIDS. Thousands of gay men were living a free-wheeling lifestyle of club hopping, “score” hunting, sex without fear, and upward mobility. To none did The Big Apple offer greater rewards than to those young men who had the envied “male model” look.Author James Melson belonged to this exclusive he was tall, blond, muscular, and very “straight looking.” He was a model at 19, and by 25, was a highly successful Wall Street banker. His good looks offered him immediate entry into exclusive clubs and onto the sexual fast track with actors, male models, and other members of the “Clique.”The author brings you behind the scenes into the lifestyle of the handsome “Clique”--providing details of the vigorous and entertaining excitement of the times. He exposes--for one of the few times in print--the lesser-known attitudes of the “Clique” and their disdain for “ugly faggots,” their obsession with strictly the chic and glamorous, and the fast lane life of partying and sex.For 200 pages, the reader is brought back to the era that for many older readers is just a memory, and for younger readers a time they never knew--when to be a “Golden Boy” was to be a prince, and sex was only fun and games.The Golden Boy autobiography ends when the author is diagnosed with AIDS, abandoned by a lover and friends, and left to look back on his life with a growing perspective.The role of “good looks” and people with AIDS is rarely talked about, particularly by gay survivors whose lesser appeal was once perhaps a curse but then ultimately their saving grace. This is not just another AIDS autobiography but a document dealing indirectly with this fact of life. The autobiography is introduced by Larry Mass, MD, an internationally recognized social historian/physician who examines the “Culture of Narcissism” in that era. Arnie Kantrowitz then presents an astonishingly frank and perhaps shocking Epilogue which will have many readers wanting to re-read the book.
- GenresLGBTAutobiography
238 pages, Paperback
First published July 6, 1992
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Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
March 8, 2026
I read this book when it first came out around 1992, and again just now (March 2026). I enjoyed it both times. It was never a best-seller, and one seldom comes across it nowadays. It's not great literature, but it's an interesting chronicle of gay life in a certain subset of the greater gay community in the sixties, seventies, and eighties. A lot has happened in the gay community since it first was published.
The author is James Melson, who was born in 1957 in Dubuque, Iowa. He had a fairly conventional middle-class boyhood, except that he was overweight as a child and was teased about that, something that deeply affected him. He became aware of his gay sexual orientation as an adolescent, and knew from the beginning that he had to keep it concealed from his family and from his community to avoid the stigmatism, ostracism, and outright persecution that was prevalent at that time. Those of us who, like James, grew up in the sixties and seventies know what that was like.
Nevertheless, he seems to have early on come to terms with his homosexuality. It apparently didn't cause him any personal trauma, except for having to be closeted. In elementary school, he eventually lost the excess weight, and grew into a popular and extraordinarily good-looking young man. He was aware of his good-looks, and used them to his advantage. He became quite self-absorbed and narcissistic. James is ambitious, and has an evident jealous streak, sometimes envious of his partners and associates. He was quite aware of his narcissism, and took it all in stride. He chose his friends based upon their good looks and popularity. But he wasn't altogether superficial. He exhibits a keen awareness of human nature, which partly balances his narcissism.
James goes through a couple of gay relationships while in college and after graduation. Thanks to his good looks, he gets a part-time modelling job, which he obviously values. He works for a couple of years in a public social-service agency but isn't impressed by it.
Eventually James moves to New York, anticipating the excitement and glamor of that metropolis's gay life. He becomes a regular at Studio 54, Flamingo, The Saint, etc., the prestigious and exclusive gay venues of the seventies and eighties. He spends weekends on Fire Island and vacations in Europe. (Notably, he evidently turns up his nose at the less exclusive gay baths, another popular gay venue of that time.) He socializes with the rich and famous. He pursues and attains a well-paid job as a commercial banker, and clearly enjoys the prestige and cachet that accompany that occupation. James must have actually possessed some real business talent to become successful in that job. But the schmoozing that's also required of that job came natural to him. Throughout this period, James partakes in plentiful promiscuous sex, choosing his hookups based upon their beauty and social prominence. He also liberally partakes in drugs and alcohol.
Then, in the early eighties, AIDS suddenly appears. James, and his partner, develop symptoms, are tested, and diagnosed positive. At first, he's angry and devastated. He loses his job, though his employer considerately gives him a comfortable disability pension. James re-considers his life, and spends his time buying and selling Americana antiques and crafts, something he'd always enjoyed as a hobby. He's depressed, puts on weight, and loses his physical attractiveness. James reveals his homosexuality , as well as his HIV diagnosis to his family, who are disappointed and saddened, but supportive. He and his partner (also diagnosed HIV positive) renege on their previous promise to support each other come what may, and break up, although they remain friends. During a visit back to Dubuque, James experiences the stigma of being HIV positive in that community, prevalent at that time.
James concludes his story with his decision to move to Los Angeles, where better medical care was available, along with a supportive gay community. He knows that the exciting but comparatively brief chapter of his life is over , and he's regretful but accepts it. The epilogue reveals that James died a few years later in a hospice.
The publisher includes a foreword by prominent gay activist Lawrence Mass, and a postscript by Arnie Kantrowitz, another prominent gay activist. Both criticize Melson for his narcissism, elitism, and superficiality. They came of age during the same period that Melson did, and experienced some of the glamorous free-wheeling gay life of the seventies, but also participated in the gay civil-rights movement and political activism that also emerged at that time, something that James was completely oblivious to, in his self-absorbed search for pleasure. Their criticism is justified. But they do (grudgingly) commend James for his finally coming around to embracing a social-conscience, albeit after getting sick. And they accept him as a fellow member of their community.
All in all, 'The Golden Boy' is a cautionary tale of the consequences of an unbridled pursuit of affluence and pleasure. It chronicles one aspect of one subset of the gay community in the sixties, seventies, and eighties. There was an awful lot more than that going on in the greater gay community during that time. But 'The Golden Boy' quite accurately portrays the social history of that segment of the gay community that James Melson lived in and experienced. After James' passing, we went through the era ( nineties and 2000s ) of AIDS-consciousness, of safe-sex, abstinence, monogamy. And now, society has a greater acceptance of gay and trans people, though much of the old intolerance remains. Times have changed. I enjoyed reading Melson's story, and it has value.
The author is James Melson, who was born in 1957 in Dubuque, Iowa. He had a fairly conventional middle-class boyhood, except that he was overweight as a child and was teased about that, something that deeply affected him. He became aware of his gay sexual orientation as an adolescent, and knew from the beginning that he had to keep it concealed from his family and from his community to avoid the stigmatism, ostracism, and outright persecution that was prevalent at that time. Those of us who, like James, grew up in the sixties and seventies know what that was like.
Nevertheless, he seems to have early on come to terms with his homosexuality. It apparently didn't cause him any personal trauma, except for having to be closeted. In elementary school, he eventually lost the excess weight, and grew into a popular and extraordinarily good-looking young man. He was aware of his good-looks, and used them to his advantage. He became quite self-absorbed and narcissistic. James is ambitious, and has an evident jealous streak, sometimes envious of his partners and associates. He was quite aware of his narcissism, and took it all in stride. He chose his friends based upon their good looks and popularity. But he wasn't altogether superficial. He exhibits a keen awareness of human nature, which partly balances his narcissism.
James goes through a couple of gay relationships while in college and after graduation. Thanks to his good looks, he gets a part-time modelling job, which he obviously values. He works for a couple of years in a public social-service agency but isn't impressed by it.
Eventually James moves to New York, anticipating the excitement and glamor of that metropolis's gay life. He becomes a regular at Studio 54, Flamingo, The Saint, etc., the prestigious and exclusive gay venues of the seventies and eighties. He spends weekends on Fire Island and vacations in Europe. (Notably, he evidently turns up his nose at the less exclusive gay baths, another popular gay venue of that time.) He socializes with the rich and famous. He pursues and attains a well-paid job as a commercial banker, and clearly enjoys the prestige and cachet that accompany that occupation. James must have actually possessed some real business talent to become successful in that job. But the schmoozing that's also required of that job came natural to him. Throughout this period, James partakes in plentiful promiscuous sex, choosing his hookups based upon their beauty and social prominence. He also liberally partakes in drugs and alcohol.
Then, in the early eighties, AIDS suddenly appears. James, and his partner, develop symptoms, are tested, and diagnosed positive. At first, he's angry and devastated. He loses his job, though his employer considerately gives him a comfortable disability pension. James re-considers his life, and spends his time buying and selling Americana antiques and crafts, something he'd always enjoyed as a hobby. He's depressed, puts on weight, and loses his physical attractiveness. James reveals his homosexuality , as well as his HIV diagnosis to his family, who are disappointed and saddened, but supportive. He and his partner (also diagnosed HIV positive) renege on their previous promise to support each other come what may, and break up, although they remain friends. During a visit back to Dubuque, James experiences the stigma of being HIV positive in that community, prevalent at that time.
James concludes his story with his decision to move to Los Angeles, where better medical care was available, along with a supportive gay community. He knows that the exciting but comparatively brief chapter of his life is over , and he's regretful but accepts it. The epilogue reveals that James died a few years later in a hospice.
The publisher includes a foreword by prominent gay activist Lawrence Mass, and a postscript by Arnie Kantrowitz, another prominent gay activist. Both criticize Melson for his narcissism, elitism, and superficiality. They came of age during the same period that Melson did, and experienced some of the glamorous free-wheeling gay life of the seventies, but also participated in the gay civil-rights movement and political activism that also emerged at that time, something that James was completely oblivious to, in his self-absorbed search for pleasure. Their criticism is justified. But they do (grudgingly) commend James for his finally coming around to embracing a social-conscience, albeit after getting sick. And they accept him as a fellow member of their community.
All in all, 'The Golden Boy' is a cautionary tale of the consequences of an unbridled pursuit of affluence and pleasure. It chronicles one aspect of one subset of the gay community in the sixties, seventies, and eighties. There was an awful lot more than that going on in the greater gay community during that time. But 'The Golden Boy' quite accurately portrays the social history of that segment of the gay community that James Melson lived in and experienced. After James' passing, we went through the era ( nineties and 2000s ) of AIDS-consciousness, of safe-sex, abstinence, monogamy. And now, society has a greater acceptance of gay and trans people, though much of the old intolerance remains. Times have changed. I enjoyed reading Melson's story, and it has value.
June 9, 2021
Boring, senseless book that is supposedly turned into an academic LGBT study by ridiculously snobby foreword and epilogue by two guys that actually slam the author of the book.
There's really little to this life story--a young Iowa gay guy goes to college in Minnesota, ends up doing some modeling and living in NYC where he sleeps around, does a lot of drugs, and hangs out with elitists (he gets to meet famous at Studio 54 and the Kennedys at their compound!). He has no clear goals in life, ends up moving around before becoming an NYC banker, and with all his sexual liaisons gets AIDS. The book ends six years before his death--which is odd. Why not tell the final years of his story?
Along the way not much happens other than him being totally self-absorbed, lusting after perfect men, judging pretty much everyone he encounters, and thinking short-term pleasure is more important than long-term happiness. He's actually a pretty typical gay guy who makes it by in life on his good looks alone. Then he suddenly loses his good looks due to the disease and few want to have anything to do with him.
The obnoxious Lawrence Mass and simplistic Arnie Kantrowitz try to turn this into a lesson about society and life, but they fail dramatically. They both admit Melson isn't a good role model but hope that this memoir can be used as a warning sign to other gay men. But that won't happen--no matter how bad the AIDS crisis got, gay guys were still having unprotected sex while blaming the government or conservatives for their own bad choices. This book's foreword and epilogue writers fail to address that and instead push the same distorted LGBT propaganda we've heard for decades.
The only real solution, as Melson alludes to in a single paragraph, is to change the choices you make. Stop sleeping around, stop being selfish, stop taking the drugs, and stop living for the short-term pleasure. If you can't do it on your own, find ways to get help to do it.
So even if 99% of the book is a waste, there is that glimmering moment when a man dying of AIDS admits that his choices were bad. It's interesting that he turns to faith in God near the end, though no details are given and the book isn't preachy at all. Maybe more people need to get past the poorly-written story in order to see the real-life conclusions.
There's really little to this life story--a young Iowa gay guy goes to college in Minnesota, ends up doing some modeling and living in NYC where he sleeps around, does a lot of drugs, and hangs out with elitists (he gets to meet famous at Studio 54 and the Kennedys at their compound!). He has no clear goals in life, ends up moving around before becoming an NYC banker, and with all his sexual liaisons gets AIDS. The book ends six years before his death--which is odd. Why not tell the final years of his story?
Along the way not much happens other than him being totally self-absorbed, lusting after perfect men, judging pretty much everyone he encounters, and thinking short-term pleasure is more important than long-term happiness. He's actually a pretty typical gay guy who makes it by in life on his good looks alone. Then he suddenly loses his good looks due to the disease and few want to have anything to do with him.
The obnoxious Lawrence Mass and simplistic Arnie Kantrowitz try to turn this into a lesson about society and life, but they fail dramatically. They both admit Melson isn't a good role model but hope that this memoir can be used as a warning sign to other gay men. But that won't happen--no matter how bad the AIDS crisis got, gay guys were still having unprotected sex while blaming the government or conservatives for their own bad choices. This book's foreword and epilogue writers fail to address that and instead push the same distorted LGBT propaganda we've heard for decades.
The only real solution, as Melson alludes to in a single paragraph, is to change the choices you make. Stop sleeping around, stop being selfish, stop taking the drugs, and stop living for the short-term pleasure. If you can't do it on your own, find ways to get help to do it.
So even if 99% of the book is a waste, there is that glimmering moment when a man dying of AIDS admits that his choices were bad. It's interesting that he turns to faith in God near the end, though no details are given and the book isn't preachy at all. Maybe more people need to get past the poorly-written story in order to see the real-life conclusions.
April 16, 2025
Dear god am I happy that I finally finished this book. That's the only thing I enjoyed about this book-finishing it. This autobiography was abhorrent. James Melson was a terrible person. Not in an evil way. In a transphobic, fat-shaming, shallow, and narcissistic size queen way. And the thing is, Melson openly admits that in this autobiography. Are we as an audience who are most likely members of the queer community supposed to applaud him for being honest about who he was? Personally, I hated his writing style but it also doesn't help that he was just a P.O.S. human being. I don't care that he died from AIDS. That doesn't absolve him of being absolutely terrible human. Melson is the poster child for why some queer people (including myself) are weary of cisgender gay men. The amount of judgement Melson felt entitled to is akin to the ego of the current president of the U.S. Fck that guy and fck James Melson.
November 18, 2012
James Melson's autobiography, for the most part, takes the reader on a whirlwind tour of gay life in the seventies when AIDS and safer sex precautions were unheard of.
The journey begins in Dubuque, Iowa, Melson's hometown, also know as Sundown Town, "a redneck, rough-shootin' meat packing town on the Mississippi River," where any black man looking for work would be advised by the sheriff to "be gone by sundown."
The next two or three chapters follow Melson's college days at St. Olaf's in Minnesota and at Northwestern in Chicago.
"The Golden Boy" doesn't really get interesting until Melson lands in New York and becomes part of the fast-lane crowd. He gives the reader an insider's look at such famous hot spots now demised as Studio 54 and Xenon.
We see before us a midwestern hick-turned-cosmopolite who develops a taste for antique folk art such as a "nearly four-foot, 1930s birdhouse, an exact replica of a New England church." And when Melson, who we've come to know and like, is diagnosed as having AIDS, we begin to feel the poignancy of the moment. Briefly--and mercifully for the reader--the book deals with the social, economic, and medical ramifications of Melson's Kaposi's sarcoma lesions.
The book ends with Melson heading for California to begin a new life and realizing with a note of sadness that he "would never have it all again."
This is an excerpt from a review I wrote for the Lambda Book Report (July/August 1992) and was published on my blog www.urbanbookmaven.blogspot.com on July 25, 2012 under the title "From the Midwest to the Fast Lane."
The journey begins in Dubuque, Iowa, Melson's hometown, also know as Sundown Town, "a redneck, rough-shootin' meat packing town on the Mississippi River," where any black man looking for work would be advised by the sheriff to "be gone by sundown."
The next two or three chapters follow Melson's college days at St. Olaf's in Minnesota and at Northwestern in Chicago.
"The Golden Boy" doesn't really get interesting until Melson lands in New York and becomes part of the fast-lane crowd. He gives the reader an insider's look at such famous hot spots now demised as Studio 54 and Xenon.
We see before us a midwestern hick-turned-cosmopolite who develops a taste for antique folk art such as a "nearly four-foot, 1930s birdhouse, an exact replica of a New England church." And when Melson, who we've come to know and like, is diagnosed as having AIDS, we begin to feel the poignancy of the moment. Briefly--and mercifully for the reader--the book deals with the social, economic, and medical ramifications of Melson's Kaposi's sarcoma lesions.
The book ends with Melson heading for California to begin a new life and realizing with a note of sadness that he "would never have it all again."
This is an excerpt from a review I wrote for the Lambda Book Report (July/August 1992) and was published on my blog www.urbanbookmaven.blogspot.com on July 25, 2012 under the title "From the Midwest to the Fast Lane."
January 30, 2012
This book was a good read, although Melson was an ass. He was every bit the stereotypical gay man: mean, bitchy and catty, obsessed with his looks, obsessed with the finer things in life, obsessed with other men's looks, obsessed with penis size, and obsessed with having as much sex as possible. Unfortunately, that was his ultimate downfall as he contracted AIDS and died in 1992. He wasn't a likable person, but it was fascinating to read about a slice of gay life from the late 1970s to about 1985.
I only have one real quarrel with a detail, and that is he claimed to have heard Don Henley's song "Dirty Laundry" played in a club twice in one night, in either 1977 or 1978. Well, that song wasn't released until 1982. In fact, the Eagles hadn't even broken up at the time he claimed to have heard the song, so none of them had released their solo albums (except Joe Walsh, who had a solo career all along). It's too bad he's not around to ask why he chose to include that false memory; otherwise, I really liked this book.
I only have one real quarrel with a detail, and that is he claimed to have heard Don Henley's song "Dirty Laundry" played in a club twice in one night, in either 1977 or 1978. Well, that song wasn't released until 1982. In fact, the Eagles hadn't even broken up at the time he claimed to have heard the song, so none of them had released their solo albums (except Joe Walsh, who had a solo career all along). It's too bad he's not around to ask why he chose to include that false memory; otherwise, I really liked this book.
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