Brokeback Mountain

Review

I have been saving the film adaptation of this short story for years. In high school, closeted, I fell in love with a cowboy-type straight boy, with his long legs and goofy grin. And so, for many years, all evidence of cowboy eroticism would remind me of him and all of those things that didn’t and couldn’t happen. But, that was years ago and time passes and memories fade. Cowboys no longer have that drastic connection to that first crush, and are safer now to think about without a full lapse into fantasy.

That is why I have never seen Ang Lee’s 2005 adaptation. It’s probably why I didn’t know it was a short story for the New Yorker, and not a dusty novel.

I printed out the story so I could read it without digital distraction – an effort spoiled somewhat by the word ‘ADVERTISEMENT’ appearing irregularly throughout the paragraphs. That did not pull me out of the West, though. I found I could smell the sage and the sheep and the sweat.

It is a heartbreaking story. I have a want to make a glib remark, “straight people ruining the lives of gay people.” But why be glib? It is so sad. So sad. I hope one day stories like this will be read, and read as unbelievable documents. I hope some kid in high school reads this and says “I don’t get it, why couldn’t they just live together?”

“There was some open space between what he knew and what he tried to believe, but nothing could be done about it, and if you can’t fix it you’ve got to stand it.”

Very beautiful. I would love to read more of this style, something like The Border Trilogy but beautiful and gay.

Notes