Aug 17, 2015
By Lee Lynch
Near where I live, closeted lesbians built and installed a bench on a mostly hidden concrete path between grassy sand dunes, out of sight of any casual observer. The bench was created in the mid 1990s to pay respect to members of the group who had died.
These women did not dare to name their dead. Even the full name of their sisterhood—a name that included the word lesbian—was too terrifying to engrave. Yet, I can guarantee that every group member read Rubyfruit Jungle and for the hours they spent with it they were unafraid. Because of such books, they dared to gather. They learned to value, in a way society did not, lesbian lives.
Where did this book come from? Was it pulp fiction? Was it some straight guy’s fantasy? No. It was a crossover book before…
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