Between the Palms: A Collection of Gay Travel Erotica [Paperback]

It would seem that one man's erotica is another man's pornography; and vice-versa. The thin line that divides pornography from erotica has for ages been the source of fierce debate between scholars and laymen, men and women, straights and gays, any government and the society is serves, and so on. While individually we all may have a working knowledge of what erotica is-works involving sexual impulse or desire-collectively, we are all somewhat at a loss as to how hardcore erotica can be before it is considered pornographic.

I mention this up front because it is the only sticking point in an otherwise fantastic assemblage of stories. Between the Palms: A Collection of Gay Travel Erotica, edited by travel writer Michael Luongo, proficiently expands gay American literature several degrees by anthologizing erotic tales of travels abroad. Whisking the reader through such wondrous locales as Ghana, Australia, Jamaica, Florence, Buenos Aires, Cairo-and even the Nevada desert-the reader is thrust not only from one sexual experience to another, but from culture to culture, making the experiences themselves funny and sad by turns (as the storyteller is only in whichever location for a finite amount of time). The stories are also understandable. We see the authors in their vulnerable states; strangers in strange lands, gobbling up rituals, sites, cultures, yet all the while remaining gay men. Men who desire comfort and companionship and sex-and many times, just a warm kindred spirit to sleep beside while on holiday. On display, the authors are flawed men all of them-but that is their appeal, making many of these tales credible and personal journeys of not just the flesh, but also the soul.

Between the Palms is a winner. Boasting more than tales of eroticism, some of the stories are downright romantic and heartbreaking. Of the book's best writings, Tim McKenzie's Desert Bloom: Memories of Burning Man is a gem; a literary baptism that reaffirms what it really means to be alive through the shedding of inhibitions. A Page from History, by Dayton Estes, should be nominated for some form of award, it was so well written and poignant. Kieron Devlin's Beyond Giza, a hilarious piece that evokes fits of laughter, will stay with you long after the book is finished; while Luongo's own Eyes of Caravaggio, Matthew Link's Ghana's Kiss of Love Without End, Night and Day by Steve Dunham, and Swiss Miss by Michael Senno-a painful and fitting story with which to end the anthology-give the collection the gravity and teeth to execute the perfect storytelling of an imperfect story.

There are other notables here. Legendary heavy hitter Felice Picano puts his youth on display with a funny, eye-opening Biker Boys and Commie Lovers. Lawrence Schimel gets liberated through some rough-and hot-treatment in Spanish Summer (Grenada, 1992). And Robert Stephenson tells a truly touching and erotic tale in Salaam.

Palms is not without its issues, however. The first two tales-Simon Sheppard's Stoned in Ten Languages, and Aaron Krach's Big Red: Sun, Sex and Fishing for Men in St. Barth's-do nothing for the collection, coming off as hollow acts of sex. By accomplished writers both, the tales fail to accomplish what a majority of the others do. The success of Palms lies squarely in the writers' ability to marry the environment to the sexual experience, giving the incidents causation: the location and the acts are inexplicably linked. You cannot think of one without the other, offering greater depth to the story, the culture, the writer, the setting, and the sex involved. On another-but similar-note, lightning has struck twice for L.M. Ross, author of the well-intentioned but misfired novel, The Long Blue Moan. Writing here as Lance Rush, his story: Sizzle in Paradise, suffers in the same fashion. His explicit sex scenes, pushing erotica into pornography, subtract from what could have been a sexy and magical tale of trysting in Jamaica. Regardless, Ross is talented, and tacky descriptions and exclamations aside, his tale is by far the steamiest in the book.

Highly recommended, Between the Palms is a fast, delicious, and insightful read. The expansion of this series will do wonders for gay travel, if it has not yet done so already. Imagine Bangkok, Lebanon, Montreal, the moors of Ireland or Scotland, Puerto Rico, or Sweden with Luongo's expert gatherings of global and sexual exploration. One can't get to the airport fast enough.

"Sex for me when I travel has always been a way toward greater cultural understanding," writes editor Michael Luongo. This statement, surprising and decadent though it may seem, is perhaps the best framework through which to perceive BETWEEN THE PALMS: A COLLECTION OF GAY TRAVEL EROTICA. This is erotica with something of a social conscience, or at least a social awareness. For the feeling I get from reading these stories is not that the various contributing authors were merely interested in a quick sexual thrill, but rather a connection to the country they were visiting. Let's face it, men, gay, straight, bisexual, whatever, are keenly interested in sex.

I have always had a desire for greater social understanding and connection. It is that desire for a greater social understanding and connection that led me to BETWEEN THE PALMS. See, editor Michael T. Luongo, who has contributed to various gay travel guides and even The New York Times, shares my fascination with Eva Peron, the legendary first lady of Argentina. Luongo has written many articles on Evita, keeping me updated on current situations in the Evita World: a new Evita Museum has been opened in Buenos Aires, and Evita now has a monument in her honor.

In the early 1990s, while still in my late teens, I became obsessed with Eva Peron. My obsession culminated in my participation with a student exchange program to Argentina when I was 17. I thought I was quite daring when I sat in front of Eva Peron's tomb in Recoleta Cemetery and wrote in my journal. I feared that if anyone saw me doing this, they might think it tacky and offensive. Well, Mr. Luongo has pushed it even further: in BETWEEN THE PALMS he writes about making out with an Argentine man in front of Evita's tomb! (Then again, I DID have the ironic honor of meeting Liza Minelli in front of Evita's tomb. I have the picture to prove it!) When I heard Mr. Luongo's story, I just had to read BETWEEN THE PALMS.

This is the point at which I don't know how to proceed with this review. I suppose I fear that if I write what I'm about to write, then I will offend some or even come across at patronizing.... It's a risk I'll have to take.

My favorite writer is Anais Nin, and my favorite male writer is Henry Miller. Anais Nin is famous for her erotica, and Henry Miller is famous for sexually explicit books such as TROPIC OF CANCER. Further, in a book he published in later life, one of his "Books of Friends," Henry Miller talks about his early childhood homosexual experimentation. And both of the "Tropics" in Miller's canon contain what in my opinion is often intense homoeroticism; just about every other scene is Miller talking to a friend about having sex with a woman. It was my familiarity with Nin's and Miller's canon that made me think that I could read BETWEEN THE PALMS and get past the sexual situations despite the fact that I am not gay. See, Anais Nin's erotica is geared toward women, and Miller's erotica, though geared toward heterosexual men, contains a lot of homoeroticism.

Well, I was wrong. The fact is that though I enjoyed the writing in BETWEEN THE PALMS, I often had to skip past the explicit sexual scenes. There is a difference, I have realized, between Miller's homoeroticism and description of outright homosexual sex. And while Anais Nin's erotica is intended for women and not men, it still describes heterosexual sexual acts. So, I suppose it's redundant to say that if you are not a gay male then BETWEEN THE PALMS won't appeal to you, at least the sexual aspects won't.

Still, I appreciated the tone of BETWEEN THE PALMS as well as Luongo's overall attitude, statements such as, "The penis, as well as the pen, may well be mightier than the sword." I wish certain world leaders would listen up!

Travel writing, erotic or no, should leave the reader feeling as though he has been enriched in some way, as though he has discovered new physical and psychological ground. Some of the stories in this book do that and do it well. Some, however, are exercises in egocentrism that merely use a foreign destination as a backdrop. ( It would also have been nice if an editor bothered to correct typos in the ms. )