Эндрю Холлерран: Американдық жазушының өмірі мен шығармашылығы

American novelist, essayist, and short story writer

Andrew Holleran is the pseudonym of Eric Garber (born 1944), an American novelist, essayist, and short story writer, born on the island of Aruba. Most of his adult life has been spent in New York City, Washington, D. C., and a small town in Florida. He was a member of The Violet Quill with Christopher Cox, a gay writer's group that met in 1980 and 1981 and also included Robert Ferro, Edmund White and Felice Picano. Following the critical and financial success of his first novel Dancer from the Dance in 1978, he became a prominent author of post Stonewall gay literature. Historically protective of his privacy, the author continues to use the pseudonym Andrew Holleran as a writer and public speaker.

Holleran was born and spent much of his childhood on the island of Aruba in the Dutch Caribbean, where his father worked for an oil company. He was raised a Catholic. After his father retired, the family moved to a small town in northern Florida in 1961. After high school, he attended Harvard College, where he studied literature and American history. During his senior year, he met Peter Taylor, who taught creative writing. After graduating from Harvard with a BA in English in 1965, he followed Taylor to the University of Iowa Writers' Workshop, in part to postpone "the horror of law school." At Iowa, where Holleran's teachers included Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. and José Donoso, he formed a long lasting friendship with fellow student Robert Ferro. None of Holleran's writings from this period were ever published, but he did attain both an MA and an MFA from Iowa. Then, after one year at the University of Pennsylvania Law School, which he found "a drag," in 1968 Holleran found himself "in the clutches of a Kafkaesque nightmare" sent him not to Vietnam but to West Germany. While in Germany he made his first sale of a short story, to The New Yorker. It was also in Germany that he had his first experience of gay sex, which he recounted in a Christopher Street interview:
One night I was in an N. C. O. club with this mad queen from Boston He got me drunk and put me on the train to Ludwigshafen and dragged me to my first gay bar. It was stunning I had sex that night and came back to the post so depressed that I took a three hour long shower. I felt that I had violated myself After that experience in Germany I went back into the closet for a year.

Following his return to the United States after the army, he attended one additional semester of law school in Philadelphia, where by chance one night he discovered the gay part of town and developed a "case of 'Every Night Fever'" that "went on for four or five years. Bars seemed to be the most wonderful places on earth. I just had to walk into one to be in heaven. I would stand for hours. I was very shy and everyone seemed so glamorous." After dropping out of law school and moving to New York City, his "fever" only intensified with his discovery of gay dance clubs and bathhouses and the gay scene at Cherry Grove and Fire Island Pines. When not at a gym or out partying, dancing, and cruising for sex, he lived "in roach infested apartments, working as a bartender, as a typist." He continued to write, thinking, after the appearance of his story in The New Yorker in 1971, that "they would publish me three times a year," but instead, "I had nothing published for seven years after that, until Dancer from the Dance," in 1978. "It's been a terrible struggle," he recalled. Dancer from the Dance was a critical success, became a national bestseller, and launched Holleran's career as a writer. His subsequent, increasingly autobiographical novels, short stories, and essays reflect his concerns as an aging gay man and track his movements between homes in New York City, Washington, D. C., and the small town in Florida where his parents retired and where he continues to live.

His second novel, Nights in Aruba (1983), drew on his childhood in Aruba, his experience in the U. S. Army in Germany, his love life and friendships in New York, and his ongoing relationships with his sister in Pennsylvania and his parents in Florida. The novel is not entirely autobiographical. One of the most vivid characters is "a tart tongued older queen named Mister Friel"; Holleran says, "I took the greatest pleasure in the Friel sections, which were totally made up. "</blockquote>

In his third novel, The Beauty of Men (1996), a 47 year old gay man living in a small town in Florida visits his quadriplegic mother at a nursing home in nearby Gainesville, remembers his friends in New York—most of them dead from AIDS—and agonizes over an unrequited obsession with a younger gay man. Peter Parker in The New York Times found it "extremely well written, and in its muted way an altogether more impressive novel than Dancer From the Dance." Alan Hollinghurst called it a "beautiful and desolating tally of what makes up a life, what images and obsessions and childlike hungers, beyond anything that it is respectable or usual to admit, haunt it and impel it and obstruct it." The novel received the 1996 Ferro Grumley Award.

In September, the Light Changes (1999) was a collection of short stories, most of them published for the first time. Peter Parker in The New York Times called the book "unflinching, provocative, witty and shrewd." Grief received the 2007 Stonewall Book Award. Also in 2007, Holleran received the Bill Whitehead Award for Lifetime Achievement from Publishing Triangle.

While Holleran continued to publish essays and short stories, it was not until 2022 that his next novel appeared, The Kingdom of Sand, a "story about the things we accumulate during a lifetime but cannot bear to part with before we die." The setting is again a small Florida town, and the narrator is again an aging gay man, living in the house where his late parents retired, making "their bedroom into a temple" and keepingall their possessions, undisturbed—the clothes in their closet, my mother's gowns, the madras shirts my father had bought long after he'd gotten so old they were too beautiful for his wizened face, the package of Pall Mall cigarettes he had left in the refrigerator; all of their liquor, my mother's bottles of perfume, a picture of my mother in a red high necked dress, looking Victorian in a small oval golden frame set between a crystal statue of the Virgin Mary and a bottle of Chanel No. 5. The narrator recounts his visits with Earl, an older gay man in town who is approaching death and in some ways takes the place of his father; but because Earl is gay, "I could talk to him in a way I could not my father." Reviewing The Kingdom of Sand in The New York Times, Colm Tóibín wrote that Holleran, "at almost 80 years of age has produced a novel remarkable for its integrity, for its readiness to embrace difficult truths and for its complex way of paying homage to the passing of time."

Holleran has been a prolific essayist throughout his career. (His essays and fiction are both so autobiographical and introspective that they sometimes seem indistinguishable.) For many years he wrote regularly for the groundbreaking gay magazine Christopher Street. More recently, he is a frequent contributor to The Gay & Lesbian Review Worldwide. Holleran is also known as a prolific writer of letters. A selection of his early correspondence with Robert Ferro was published in The Violet Quill Reader in 1994. Having earlier written to Ferro about his awed reaction to Proust's Remembrance of Things Past, Holleran (not yet a published novelist) ends a letter from 1970 by writing:Incidentally I have begun to think that novels may be mere excuses for publishing of letters; having read now Proust to his mother, Proust to Antoine Bibesco, John Addington Symonds to everyone, and who else But novels are such work. There must be an easier way to have one's letters published.

Holleran has called The Great Gatsby "my favorite book." He still owns the "well worn paperback" he "had to read in high school." When asked "Who are your models as a writer?" in a 1983 interview, Holleran replied, <blockquote>Scott Fitzgerald. I think Gatsby is just it for language and the beauty of the prose, and Tender Is the Night. And I love Proust. But he's the dangerous one. He's so overwhelming, so immense, so brilliant on so many levels that that book is stultifying in a way. It stands like this enormous mountain, and you can't go up it. You have to go around it." Edmund White wrote that Dancer "accomplished for the 1970s what The Great Gatsby achieved for the 1920s—the glamorization of a decade and a culture." Tony Kushner also links Holleran and Fitzgerald:Fitzgerald is also a writer about loss; there's this sense with both [Holleran and Fitzgerald] of people inhabiting something that's already disappeared. One of the first things I remember about Dancer from the Dance is that it lands on the notion that all of us are self invented people, and that behind that is a difficult and somewhat concealed past, as if in coming out there's a reverse closeting that's very Fitzgeraldian."