1. What inspired you to write this book?
I grew up at a time when there was precious little literature touching on the topic of same-sex love, and certainly nothing that would have been interesting for a young man. As a result, I had a hard time making sense of my own adolescent emotions. So, years later when I realized that these myths existed, I felt cheated of my own heritage and determined to put them together and make them available to all.
2. Why the Greek myths?
I felt it was important to begin at the beginning — there’s nothing older in Western culture than Greek mythology. It is compelling to go back to the roots of our modern homophobic society and finding there a whole body of work on the sacredness of same-sex love.
3. How do you think the Greek themselves understood these stories?
The stories are varied, so there is no single answer. We can say that the myths seem designed as teaching tools, for communicating a certain set of values, and for encoding certain social and religious practices. Some stories teach by example, by showing positive models; others teach by counter-example. Still others seem to encode shamanic coming-of-age rituals, and others are just in fun.
4. Why are there no stories about women?
Ancient Greece was a patriarchal society, and women’s lore was simply not preserved because men were the ones keeping records. That pattern continued during the middle ages, when it was the Christian monks who preserved the ancient texts. Furthermore, ancient patriarchs abhorred lesbian love.
5. How can you justify the misogyny and homophobia in Lucian’s debate?
They are merely artistic devices, not to be taken seriously. Lucian makes fun of both the gay and the straight debater, letting them make fools of themselves.
6. What relevance do these stories have to modern gay life?
These stories are part of our history, and show that 2500 years ago our ancestors venerated passions which we only now are beginning to reclaim as legitimate. They provide a sense of historical continuity for same-sex love that is empowering and affirming, and show that, unlike the claims of some modern religious figures, spiritual life and same-sex love are not mutually incompatible.
7. Weren’t the Greeks only interested in young boys?
That’s the conventional wisdom, but the myths say otherwise. Here we have stories of young people in love with young people, adults in love with adults, as well as adults and young people in love with each other. However, one strongly condemned exception aside (the story of Laius and Goldenhorse), there are no stories of adults with children, a thing the Greeks despised.
8. Why is Narcissus here? Wasn’t he merely in love with himself?
Not from his point of view. Narcissus fell madly in love with a youth he saw in a pond when he looked down at the water. It was not until later that he realized it was his own reflection he was looking at.
9. Is this a book for adults, or for young people?
I wrote for all audiences. However, I did not “dumb down” my language, since I have great respect for the ability of many young people to grow into a text written at an adult level.
10. How did you find these stories?
There has been a great deal of research done on the Classic texts, both from the perspective of gay studies as well as from that of mythography. So I was able to build on the work of others, such as Bernard Sergeant, K. J. Dover and Robert Graves. I simply took things one step further and joined the two fields.
11. How much is authentic, and how much did you make up?
I tried to keep myself out of the picture. Mostly I provided what I would call “connective tissue,” to knit the various sources together. My intention was to render the stories in a form that might be familiar to one of the ancients, were he or she to come back to life.
12. What relevance can the myths have for us now, when we are so concerned with child abuse?
The Greeks themselves had similar worries. They were quite preoccupied with hubris, “outrage,” which in their days was even more outrageous than today. In the story in which Laius kidnaps and rapes a boy, the gods themselves punish the evil-doer, with a penalty that still echoes in today’s culture: the curse of Oedipus. The coming-of-age stories, on the other hand, illuminate rites by means of which young people were entered into adult society. By definition, therefore, these were people old enough to take on adult responsibilities. Furthermore, the approval of the father is required. Even the king of heaven had to make amends to Ganymede’s father for taking the boy into Olympus. And Achilles assured Menoitius, Patroclus’ father, he would bring his son home safe. So we could say that the Greeks, by suggesting that parental permission as well as proper age are required for a love relationship, were even more protective of their sons than we today, who cast them free at 18 into the sexual marketplace, with often unfortunate results.
13. Are you not afraid of ruining Hercules as a modern children’s hero?
On the contrary. At last, he can be a hero to our gay youth, too.
14. Do you expect these stories to serve as examples to the people of today?
If we look at the positive models, we see lawful, openly undertaken relationships based on mutual love, between individuals of proper age, relationships which serve an important social function. The cautionary tales show that insensitivity, rape, and betrayal are abominations. These are lessons that need to be learned anew by each generation.
15. Aren’t today’s heroes more appropriate role models?
If they teach the values that the old heroes teach: honor, trust, love, friendship, courage, wisdom, and a humane tolerance of all forms of love, then they are just as good.
16. What do you hope to accomplish by writing this book?
I hope to make it harder for authoritarian forces to foist on us the dogma that same-sex love is a perversion. Indeed it is this dogma itself which is a corruption upon our society, making liars of us all from the earliest years on. And by teaching us thus to lie to ourselves as well as to others it damages the very fiber of society and desensitizes us to other, real horrors that we have grown to live with unquestioningly.
