Just out., May 16, 2003, Page 51, Image 51

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REVIEWS
W hy the L ong F ace : T he
A dventures of a T ruly
I ndependent A ctor
by Craig Chester ; LA Weekly
Books, 2003; $23.95 hardcover
raig Chester is one of very
few openly gay actors in
Hollywood. Although not
yet a household name, he has
appeared in 15 films, including
Swoon, Kiss Me Guido and /
Shot Andy Warhol.
His new autobiography,
Why the Long Face: The Adven­
tures o f a Truly Independent
Actor, details his childhcxxl as
the son of religious zealots in
suburban Texas and follows
him as he becomes a working
actor and outspoken gay rights advocate.
Through a series of brutally honest and
painfully funny episodes, Chester recounts his
humiliating experiences growing up gay outside
Dallas. He describes himself as “having the ath­
letic ability of a throw pillow” and “painfully
shy, socially retarded,” while his doting mother
tells relatives, “He’s not a sissy— he’s special!”
Among the many humiliations he suffers
are being confused for a girl at summer camp
and wearing a homemade Halloween costume
to elementary school, where they aren’t cele­
brating “the devil’s holiday” any longer.
Just when he thought things couldn’t get
worse, at age 11 Chester shows symptoms of Long
Face Syndrome, a genetic disorder that stretches
his face into an exaggerated frown and that forces
him to undergo a series of agonizing operations.
Eventually he moves to New York, where
he settles on a career ftKused on independent
films because he steadfastly insists on being
openly gay. “Coming out once you have a
mansion and a Range Rover,” he says, “isn’t
really the same as putting your ass on the line
from the get-go."
Throughout the stories, Chester’s humor
and humanity are always evident, although the
tales of his childhood are more interesting and
better written than some of the later ones. All
in all, the author deserves admiration for his
bravery and steadfastness. O ne certainly wishes
more actors (Sean Hayes comes to mind, for
one) had such courage and convictions.
— Floyd Sldaver
C
A rroyo
by Summer Wood; Chronicle Books, 2002;
$14.95 paperback
his first novel by Summer WtxxJ, originally
published in 2001, offers readers a fly-on-
the-wall view
of the fictional,
middle-of-
nowhere town of
Los Fuegos, N.M.,
filled with charac­
ters haunted by
their past and
unsure about their
future.
W hen Willie
Lee Woolston,
new to Los Fue­
gos and trying to
shake her past,
meets naturalist
Chavela Lopez, the two hit it off instantly but
struggle to overcome their fears of loving each
other. We also meet Hector, the aging fix-it
man who is haunted by his lost brother, and
teen-age Mattie, who
learns the ropes of love
from Roxy, a girl whose
family was just passing
through hut ended up stay­
ing for years in the boxcars
outside town. The matron­
ly Lupe, who runs the local
cafe, keeps them all well
fed with fried sweet dough
and green chiles.
Wood writes in staccato
sentences and peppers the
work with bits of Spanish;
the result is a beautifully
rhythmic prose that carries
the reader through the lives
of a remarkable tumble of
characters. The vivid tastes,
sights and sounds of Arroyo
make up for a slightly scattered plot about lov­
ing, losing and loving again.
— Karen Kudej
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M y L ife as a G ay M an in a S traight
W oman ’ s B ody : A n A utobiography
by Carol Sherman-Jones; Five Star Publications,
2002; $14.95 softcover
arol Sherman-Jones is not nearly so interest­
ing a person that she actually feels herself to
he a gay man
MY L IF E
trapped in a
GAY MAN
woman’s body;
she simply came
in ,/ STRA IG H T
up with a rather
W OMAN'S B O D Y
misleading way
to say she’s a
straight girl who’s
friends with a lot
of gay
guys.
(There’s a blunt,
cliched, widely
used euphemism
for it, hut maybe
that
doesn’t
make a good
Ixxtk title.)
That discrepancy is why at least a good half
of Sherman-Jones’ autobiography is, while not
unreadable, not really worth reading. She’s
someone who had a troubled childhood, has
known some colorful people in her time, has
had some ups and downs in regard to her rela­
tionships and self-worth, has experienced good
luck and had in business and has some funny
stories— though never as funny as the cutesy-
confessional, somewhat self-impressed tone
seems to imply.
Sherman-Jones lightly turns every crisis and
fuck-up into a Message of Hope or a toot of her
own horn (often both), destroying the prospect
of much real insight or humor.
There are oases wherein the author thank­
fully restrains her inner cheerleader. In the
space of just a few pages, she goes from “What
could I possibly talk to my nice, upper-middle-
class... sister about? Getting loaded and wak­
ing up in strange places? Petty theft...being
the kxikout for a shaky cocaine heist ?” to “I
applied for a job at T.G.I. Friday’s” to “I love
rainbows!” to “I just knew I was destined to he
a high-class hooker.” It’s self-deprecating,
insane and hilarious— a glimpse into what the
book could’ve been.
Unfortunately, buried as they are under a
smothering blanket of empty self-help-isms,
these dashes of worthwhile are far too little to
save an enterprise that falls too short of justify­
ing its solipsism.
—Christopher McQuam JH
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