Using bisexuality as a frame, Go the Way Your Blood Beats questions the division of sexuality into straight and gay, in a timely exploration of the complex histories and psychologies of human desire.
A challenge to the idea that sexuality can either ever be fully known or neatly categorised, it is a meditation on desire’s unknowability. Interwoven with anonymous addresses to past loves – the sex of whom remain obscure – the book demonstrates the universalism of human desire.
Part essay, part memoir, part love letter, Go the Way Your Blood Beats asks us to see desire and sexuality as analogous with art – a mysterious, creative force.
Michael Amherst is a writer of fiction and non-fiction. His work has been published internationally, including in the Guardian, New Statesman, the Spectator, The White Review and Contrappasso magazine. He is currently a PhD candidate at Birkbeck, University of London.
Repeater Books – I quote from its website – is dedicated to the creation of a new reality. The landscape of twenty-first-century arts and letters is faded and inert, riven by fashionable cynicism, egotistical self-reference and a nostalgia for the recent past. Repeater intends to add its voice to those movements that wish to enter history and assert control over its currents, gathering together scattered and isolated voices with those who have already called for an escape from Capitalist Realism.
It’s an imprint of Watkins Media, which was set up in the 1890s to fill the mysticism and occultism niche.
This is another one from the wonderful Gay’s The Word.
The bingo card
This one comes in under ‘A new to you press’, ‘A book from your TBR’, ‘Marginalised people’, ‘Book that defies genre’, ‘Non-fiction’, ‘LGBTQIA’, and very possibly ‘Favourite’.
At 122 pages, this is a short book, and I read it in a hurry, trying to get it in before I went away on holiday. I’m going to have to go back and reread it slowly, because there is an awful lot in there, and I think I missed quite a lot.
It’s all sorts of things: it’s a review of the scholarship around bisexuality; it’s a rant about bi erasure in popular media, and the damage caused by intrusive questioning; it’s a glimpse into someone else’s love life; it’s a reading list. (I haven’t ever read anything by James Baldwin.)
But mostly it felt like a long, rambling, night in a quietish pub, having drunk just enough not to be afraid of one’s own opinions, talking to somebody who really gets what it’s like. I was reading it on my morning commute, without so much as a cup of coffee in hand, but I felt as if I should have had a nearly-empty pint glass, and be waving my hands around, and exclaiming, ‘Yes! Exactly!‘ a lot.