I read this book on the heels of Openly Bob, which may not have been wise, as comparisons between the two were inevitable. Both are autobiographical, both begin and end with stories of family (which are dysfunctional), and if one were to consider only the direct quotes from their respective mothers, one might be inclined to think that they were brothers! Unlike Bob Smith, however, Alan Helms tells a story that appears to be marching towards a definite end, thus it is much less spasmodic. His journey proceeds more or less from Indianapolis to New York to Boston, with several stops in many gay mecca towns all over the world. Further, his travels usually took him into the company of many very famous people, names that are dropped almost continuously throughout the book. This movie-star lifestyle came rather suddenly and with little effort required on his part, thanks to two important factors. First, he was genetically gifted (a knockout, actually). Second, he was in his prime at a time in history when most of the gay world networked underground and was confined to New York.
Being discovered by gay society gave him almost overnight notoriety, sex with anyone he chose, the label as a goldenboy, and the immediate headaches of fame. This primarily included an amplified sense of self worth. He lived life with the idea that, if everyone wanted him, then he must be worth something, and furthermore, it must be love. In hindsight, he found that it was envy, because that is what he felt when the younger generation came up to replace him. Drugs arrived to ease the pain of his waning desirability, sometimes in toxic combinations that should have killed him. Neither the drugs, nor therapy, nor steady employment, nor good friends could help him overcome the self hatred which reached such strength as to manifest itself in fits of shaking. All throughout, Helms makes wonderful use of stream-of-consciousness to allow us to see into his mind. In the end, it is an almost anticlimactic realization that it is fear that has ruled his life. A most touching moment was the further realization, at his mother’s deathbed, that she had all along and in her own way, taught him how to face the fear.
I enjoyed this book. I may be 31 years younger than Helms, but his story remains pertinent. Fear still rules many people, even if it takes different forms today. Some have lamented the passing of Helm’s pre-Stonewall and pre-AIDS lifestyle. Having grown up with AIDS and Pride marches, I very much appreciate the glance into life in those days. Yet, I wouldn’t change anything. AIDS, despite being a true horror, has forced me to look at love, commitment, and friendship as vastly preferable to anonymous, consequence-free sex. It’s not as spontaneous, but it satisfies.
As I ponder my next review, I wonder...do people who come from sane, nuclear families write?