Title: Bathroom Trysts
Author: Mykola Dementiuk
Length: 36 pdf pages.
Publisher: Noble Romance
Genre: m/m erotic memoir
Rating: D
Blurb:
It was Elisa Rolle, book reviewer based in Italy, who first gave me the idea for Bathroom Trysts when she had a brief review of a book about sex in public restrooms. The notion fascinated and intrigued me; what could be better? The idea comes from Laud Humphreys, American sociologist and author of Tearoom Trades: Impersonal Sex in Public Places. I was reminded of my own brief trysts back in the early 1960s when I was a young man, stopping in the various public restrooms all around New York City.
Gay rights was still unheard of, but uptown, downtown, the city was a little more understanding of a man’s needs than it is today, and not just in relieving himself but in brief masturbation shared with another stranger who afterward disappeared back into the city. How many stops did I make in these restrooms, whether I had to go or not? Hundreds, maybe thousands, five, six times a day if not more. I would eagerly, but nervously, enter each time I saw a restroom in subway stations, in park playgrounds, in building hallways, in big stores, all the while seeking release, and in my case, a hurried sexual release, as it was for other men, too, I suppose.
Ah, the bathroom smells: ammonia, cleansing solvent, the endless splashings and dribbles of urine . . . psss . . . the sound hovers in my memory. Sensations come again. A man could just stand there and relieve himself forever . . . as another man stands beside him gazing lovingly at the sound of slurping penis.
But who were the players in these brief trysts? Closeted men having a look or a grope at another closeted man, then going back to their meaningless straight lives. I was such a man pursuing things I never cared for, with time on my hands, searching, hungering for someone who could stick something better and bigger in my fingers . . . if only for a brief while.
Wish my memory was a little stronger, men’s faces more memorable and appealing, with definitely a little more physical action than there is, but there isn’t. A hand-job is a hand-job, nothing more, nothing less. We were but strangers reaching toward each other, momentarily holding and clinging, then, just as quickly, letting go as we hurried back to where we came from.
I sigh, as I sighed then, shrug and go on. All I can do is try to remember.
Review:
This book could probably win an award for having the longest short story blurb ever. I’m not normally a fan of long blurbs, but this one intrigued me with the notion of semi-autobiographical public toilet sex. At the very least I imagined it would be an intriguing piece of social history, and at best it could be a hot and dirty read as well.
Bathroom Trysts definitely succeeds in the first aspect. This is a portrait of one penniless, disillusioned young man’s 1960s New York, and the seedy underbelly of the city is explored through its public restrooms and the illicit activity going on there. This short story covers several years in the narrator’s young life, from his first sexual encounter in a toilet stall through to when he moves on to finding his anonymous sex somewhere other than public toilets. It is made up of a series of bathroom encounters with strangers, but covering all sorts of different locations, from parks to ferries, and a variety of characters from butch businessmen to cross-dressers. There is an element of borderline prostitution at times, as although he doesn’t hustle, he is sometimes offered money for his services, which he readily accepts.
Although written in first person, the narrative style feels distant and unemotional. Indeed, the pervading atmosphere is one of loneliness and shame. At times though, the prose is beautiful, capturing the city in deft strokes:
Though wet and fog-covered, the skyline of Manhattan was an awesome sight behind us; it pierced through the clouds, pushing upward to stand so boldly erect, floor by floor making a last grasp skyward before it turned and sneered down at us as if to say, “Petty man”… then it shook its head and looked elsewhere. New York was like that, unknown and unknowable, a stranger to its millions of strangers…
Unfortunately this distance in the prose extended to the sex scenes, and I couldn’t engage with them at all. Because the narrator seems to feel nothing much other than a brief, shameful excitement, they didn’t seem sexy to me. Indeed, some of the scenes were downright disturbing and these are largely responsible for the low grade. Although the narrator doesn’t make his age explicit at the beginning of the story, he later tells us he was fifteen then (something that might well bother many readers).
What really turned me off the story, though, was the narrator’s reaction to the cross-dressing character who asks him to come on her face, even offering money for his “scum”. When it doesn’t quite go to plan and she takes the money back, the narrator curses her, calling her a “faggot whore” and a “half-boy/half-girl fake”. If this transphobia had been dealt with by the narrator, calling on a more mature perspective in his later life (the point from which he is supposedly narrating) then I could have accepted it as the callousness of youth. Unfortunately this didn’t happen, and after that I lost all sympathy for him.
I have no doubt that there are readers out there who will enjoy this story for what it is – a memoir of public sex in pre-AIDS New York. Perhaps there are even those who will find it a turn on. However, it left me with a very nasty taste in my mouth.
Yeah…. I have almost opened this to read several times recently but something held me back. Thank God! This doesn’t sound like an enjoyable read at all.
Enjoyable definitely isn’t the right word for this one – not for me, anyway. I’ve no doubt there are people out there who will feel differently, but there was no joy or humour in this story, just a pervading air of melancholy. Shame really – I had such high hopes!
I believe I’ll pass on this one…
It’s probably not your thing, Chris.
It’s amazing how something like one incident can colour your whole impression (although I know it wasn’t solely that incident) but it can make us look at something in a different manner. As you said, other people may not even think twice about that and enjoy it for a variety of reasons. I think I’ll pass though, the whole premise really didn’t appeal to me.
Agreed – I’d definitely have marked it a C if it hadn’t been for that incident. The prose itself is worth more as it reaches moments of literary beauty, but there wasn’t enough hope for me to rate it higher.
If the premise doesn’t appeal, then I doubt this story would work for you as it does take place almost entirely in public toilets. The title is perfect for it!
Hey, thanks a lot for your comments! And whatever they were, life goes on, there are other books to read and write. Hope you have a look http://mykoladementiuk.com/
Keep reading, paper or e-books
All the best
Hi Mykola – thanks for dropping by. I’m interested to see all those other books on your website, and I’ll certainly look into reading something different by you, as I did think your prose was beautiful
“some of the scenes were downright disturbing and these are largely responsible for the low grade”
What can one expect when a book tells us in its title that it is about bathroom trysts? Love? Moon and June? Of course it’s disturbing! It is meant to be disturbing. It’s what society put on our gay citizens all those years, forcing them into shame and degradation and disturbing acts in places most of us wouldn’t think of having sex in. Mykola doesn’t need to tell us that within the story, we need to figure that out for ourselves! I would never give a bad grade for good writing, no matter what the subject, especially when the subject is announced in the title!
I edited scenes for Mick that I had difficulty reading in the beginning, but I thought his voice needed to be heard. I still do, six years later, and am happy he has found his niche.
Sally Miller, Synergy Book Service.
Hi Sally,
It’s interesting that you bring up the labelling issue. I certainly didn’t expect this to be a comforting read, and I think I made that clear in my review. However, I did expect it to work as a piece of erotica, and it didn’t for me. The encounters were just too furtive, the language too clinical. I would also like to point out that when we received the book from Noble Romance, they said it was a “hot m/m erotic romance”. That was clearly not the case – this is literary fiction and this blog is probably not the best place to send it.
I will reserve my right to grade books however I see fit, and if they contain scenes of abuse the blurb did not prepare me for, along with vile, transphobic insults, then this will affect my grade. Reviews are the subjective expression of the reviewer’s reading experience, and in this case I quite simply did not enjoy the book, even though I agree the prose was pretty good. I tried to make that clear in my review, and I hope that this story finds its way to the right readers. Those readers are unlikely to be romance readers.
I’m going to be much more careful about choosing books from this publisher in the future.
Not all stories are supposed to make you see rainbows and unicorns and get all giddy with sweet emotions.
Mick writes about the gritty reality of life in New York back then and he does it well.
Sex for gay men is something that non-gay people will never fully comprehend. They can try and that’s fine, but might as well try and catch a rainbow.
I refer you to my response to Sally above. I don’t dispute the fact that Mykola writes gritty reality well. However, this book was sent to an erotic romance review blog, from a romance publisher, telling us it was an erotic romance. I could tell it wasn’t going to be romantic from the blurb, but for this reader it didn’t succeed in being particularly erotic either.
I knew this book might not be exactly for Noble Romance but when the editor, Bryl Tyne, an old friend, asked for it I said, “Hell, he must know something I don’t..” so I offered it to them. No complaints so far.
I think probably Ruby is right in that this was not the best place to review this book. I am a true fan of Mick’s writing, even where it makes me uncomfortable – comfortable isn’t what Mick writes. And I confess I haven’t read this one, but I would not expect it to be either romantic or particularly erotic. Encounters such as these are a part of the gay experience in the past, and one that it would be very difficult for a non-gay or someone young (unless interested in social history) to understand. As to transphobic comments, I think I can safely say that Mick is not transphobic – he’s probably one of the least transphobic persons I know.
Victor, I hope I haven’t given the impression that I consider the author to be transphobic. However, the narrator of the story does make some abusive comments towards a trans* individual and as this isn’t dealt with within the story, it left me with an extremely unpleasant impression.
Honestly, I think this is simply a case of a book being mislabelled by the publisher (and perhaps submitted to the wrong publisher). However, since we’d requested it for review from Noble, I felt duty bound to review it. I have to admit, this experience has made me extremely wary of accepting books from that particular publisher in the future.
An interesting review, and an even more interesting discussion that has followed – with, it must be said, some fair questions asked.
I think the issue with Mick’s work (and it’s something I originally struggled with) is that it reflects a gritty, realistic, far more judgmental time in our history. His characters are often closeted and confused, and sometimes lash out at one another as a means of self-defence or self-denial. That doesn’t make it right, but it’s an honest look at characters struggling to come to grips with their sexuality in a difficult time.
While there is an element of romance to many of his stories, they are probably not what most readers would categorize as traditional romances.
Fortunately, I’ve gotten to know Mick well enough to appreciate that he is decades removed from those troubled young men, and one of the most tolerant and accepting people I know.
Hi Sally, I understand exactly what you’re saying about characters lashing out in self-defence. However, as I didn’t have the privilege of knowing anything about the author, I was judging the book purely by what was on the page. I honestly think reviewers need to do this for the sake of other readers, because most readers will be coming to a book without knowing the author personally.
My considered response to this story, after thinking it through for a few days, is that it would be much better categorised as literary fiction along the lines of someone like Alan Hollinghurst. I was expecting something more erotic, along the lines of James Lear. Reader expectation plays a huge part in the reading experience, so I think it behoves authors to choose their publishers wisely.
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