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A review by peachprince
Moby Dyke: An Obsessive Quest To Hunt Down The Last Remaining Lesbian Bars In America by Krista Burton
funny
lighthearted
fast-paced
3.5
I closed this book happy to have read it but the more I think about it I struggle to give it more than 3 stars. I'm giving it 3.5 because I did enjoy it and think it is fine enough as a bloggy list of bars to visit. There were moments that made me laugh, and i believe the author has a sincere love for these bars. It reads like something I would have loved as a teenager (or "babyqueer", as the author repeatedly calls them, to the point that it starts to feel like a pejorative). But ultimately I don't think she was best suited to write this book. Really I think it comes down to her being the only one willing to do it who could afford to make all those trips.
The lack of research others have mentioned is a huge hindrance to the book. A frequent occurrence is Burton showing up to a bar when it is closed or just missing what would have been a cool event to write about. Is she not even calling these bars? Emailing them? Asking on facebook and twitter about when she should go? Or doing anything to arrange interviews with patron ahead of time, even!
I can't help but contrast this book with an episode of the podcast True Tea with Kat Blaque from 2021, "[Call In] New York Lesbians Discuss Whether Trans Women are Shutting Down Lesbian Bars". The episode has been edited down to 38 minutes from multiple hours of calls, and paint a much more vivid and nuanced picture of New York's lesbian bars than Moby Dyke manages to. Of course Kat Blaque has the advantage here of taking calls from people who know her work and presumably feel comfortable talking to her about their feelings on the matter, but it's still disappointing that Burton failed to glean even the top-level insights Blaque gets from her interviews, such as that young cis lesbians don't want to go to a bar that is "for them" if it excludes trans people and bisexual women, so attempting to make a "lesbians only space" that has to turn a profit is a recipe for failure.
Others here have covered much of what frustrated me, but I want to address the recurrent theme of femmephobia. Burton really doesn't dig into this at all, not even the most basic historical facts like lesbian bars at one time being the only places in America a woman could safely crossdress. The lack of self-awareness is staggering: is it really the fast fashion viscose-blend dress and the eyeliner that is making people suspicious and unfriendly? Or is it that you're a stranger in what are frequently close-knit spaces who is obvious watching all the bar-goers and writing things down? So many interactions with people in this book start with someone asking her "what are you writing" and it never seems to occur to her that this is a defensive measure, trying to decide if you're some right-wing grifter looking to make a queer space the next culture war target.
My frustration with these segments also ties in with how little her trans husband's perspective comes up, despite the question of his inclusion being part of the thesis of the book. What is it like to change gender presentation in these spaces? Or to be anything other than a cis femme at all? Burton doesn't seem to consider this, she takes it for granted that masculinity is a welcomed default and doesn't touch on transness beyond asking strangers their pronouns.Her husband's experience is so absent that he may as well have been a cis man. "It's a bar for everyone" is the refrain, but never does she dig into who isn't going to these bars or whether anyone feels unwelcome.
As others have noted, while not trying to be a history book, Moby Dyke also fails to be a memoir, a travel guide, or any real synthesis of its disparate genres. Fine enough as what I read it as, a library book to read a few chapters of before bed before returning it and moving on.
The lack of research others have mentioned is a huge hindrance to the book. A frequent occurrence is Burton showing up to a bar when it is closed or just missing what would have been a cool event to write about. Is she not even calling these bars? Emailing them? Asking on facebook and twitter about when she should go? Or doing anything to arrange interviews with patron ahead of time, even!
I can't help but contrast this book with an episode of the podcast True Tea with Kat Blaque from 2021, "[Call In] New York Lesbians Discuss Whether Trans Women are Shutting Down Lesbian Bars". The episode has been edited down to 38 minutes from multiple hours of calls, and paint a much more vivid and nuanced picture of New York's lesbian bars than Moby Dyke manages to. Of course Kat Blaque has the advantage here of taking calls from people who know her work and presumably feel comfortable talking to her about their feelings on the matter, but it's still disappointing that Burton failed to glean even the top-level insights Blaque gets from her interviews, such as that young cis lesbians don't want to go to a bar that is "for them" if it excludes trans people and bisexual women, so attempting to make a "lesbians only space" that has to turn a profit is a recipe for failure.
Others here have covered much of what frustrated me, but I want to address the recurrent theme of femmephobia. Burton really doesn't dig into this at all, not even the most basic historical facts like lesbian bars at one time being the only places in America a woman could safely crossdress. The lack of self-awareness is staggering: is it really the fast fashion viscose-blend dress and the eyeliner that is making people suspicious and unfriendly? Or is it that you're a stranger in what are frequently close-knit spaces who is obvious watching all the bar-goers and writing things down? So many interactions with people in this book start with someone asking her "what are you writing" and it never seems to occur to her that this is a defensive measure, trying to decide if you're some right-wing grifter looking to make a queer space the next culture war target.
My frustration with these segments also ties in with how little her trans husband's perspective comes up, despite the question of his inclusion being part of the thesis of the book. What is it like to change gender presentation in these spaces? Or to be anything other than a cis femme at all? Burton doesn't seem to consider this, she takes it for granted that masculinity is a welcomed default and doesn't touch on transness beyond asking strangers their pronouns.Her husband's experience is so absent that he may as well have been a cis man. "It's a bar for everyone" is the refrain, but never does she dig into who isn't going to these bars or whether anyone feels unwelcome.
As others have noted, while not trying to be a history book, Moby Dyke also fails to be a memoir, a travel guide, or any real synthesis of its disparate genres. Fine enough as what I read it as, a library book to read a few chapters of before bed before returning it and moving on.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Homophobia, Lesbophobia, Alcohol, and Pandemic/Epidemic