Books to mark LGBT History Month

February is LGBT History Month in the UK, and that means it is a good opportunity to mention some really great books that have an LGBT theme or element to them.



Jeanette Winterson’s Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit is a good place to start. It is the somewhat disturbing tale of a young girl, Jeanette, adopted by a couple one of whom, Mrs Winterson, is deeply religious. Mrs Winterson’s religious fervour leads to a somewhat emotionally abusive upbringing, but then Jeanette falls in love with, horror of horrors, a woman. Mrs Winterson is not best pleased.

Jeanette Winterson is often asked if this, her first novel, is autobiographical. This is what she says in response on her website:

Yes and no. All writers draw on their experience but experience isn’t what makes a good book. As the stand-up comics say, ‘It’s the way you tell ‘em’. Oranges is written in the first person, it’s direct and uninhibited, but it isn’t autobiography in the real sense. I have noticed that when women writers put themselves into their fiction, it’s called autobiography. When men do it, such as Paul Auster or Milan Kundera it’s called meta -fiction.

Indeed. If you do want to read a book that IS autobiographical then there is Jeanette Winterson’s Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?.



Another good, although rather tragic, read is James Baldwin’s Giovanni's Room. The book is set in 1950s Paris and American, David, has a passionate relationship with Giovanni. Until David’s girlfriend returns to Paris… This is a really beautiful and moving book and well worth a read. Occasionally, I read books aloud to my partner (actually, I really must get back into that) and this is one of the books I have read.



For something, decidedly more light-hearted then Armistead Maupin’s Tales Of The City is a rather more humorous novel. It is set in 1970s San Francisco and is focussed around the lives of eight people and their life, loves and friendships. It is actually a really long time since I have read this book and I must give it a re-read. My mum actually gave me a copy of this when I was probably in my early twenties. I think she bought it while on holiday in San Francisco. I suspect that she was not entirely clear on its content. I shall say no more.