The Gay & Lesbian Review

HIS ENGAGING STUDY investigates the many associ-

ations that have been drawn, in both literary works and

historical events, between gay men, Jews, and commu-

nists as potential traitors and spies. They are among the “invisi-

ble others,” as Carlston calls them, who have been considered

throughout history, but especially in the 19th and 20th centuries,

as “double agents,” pretending to be citizens but actually work-

ing as moles and subversives. Based upon their sexual orienta-

tion, religious and ethnic background, or political leanings, these

groups are seen as not respecting national boundaries or secrets;

therefore, they cannot be trusted with the rights of full citizen-

ship. Often there is sense of urgency to identify members of these

groups to prevent them from hurting the country.

Carlston examines three major events from the last hundred

years or so, from three separate countries, to illustrate her thesis:

the Dreyfus Affair in late-19th-century France; the Burgess-

Maclean spy scandal in Britain; and the Julius and Ethel Rosen-

berg trial in the U.S. She also analyzes three literary works that

deal in some way with each event, as well as the general theme—

Proust’s

In Search of Lost Time

, Auden’s early poetry, and Tony

Kushner’s play

Angels in America

—which all consider what it

means to be gay, Jewish, or a communist, often more than one at

a time. Carlston focuses primarily on Proust and Kushner’s works,

using Auden’s early poetry to demonstrate that many writers at

the time, even poets, were interested in spying as a theme.

He begins with Proust, mainly focusing on

Sodom and Go-

morrah

, which is Volume Four of the massive novel. Proust refers

to the Dreyfus Affair—an 1894 spy scandal involving a Jewish

army officer accused of selling military secrets to a bisexual Ger-

man diplomat—as a way of bringing together sexuality and Jew-

ishness as two kinds of “secret” identity. In the book, the straight,

Catholic narrator suddenly discovers the hidden signs of Jewish-

ness and homosexuality (or “inversion” as it was called), and uses

this new understanding to piece together the fragments of con-

HARLES

REEN

No Commies, Jews, or Gays

Double Agents:

Espionage, Literature, and Liminal Citizens

by Erin G. Carlston

Columbia University Press. 332 pages, $29.50

seems delighted to share pages and pages of agony about her in-

ability to stick with her decision. It’s hard not to become irri-

tated with the self-doubting discourse, the needless covertness,

the anxious blame-the-parents passages, and the attempts at

humor that miss the mark.

There is something of a surprise ending, but by this time

it’s difficult to be surprised at what happens or to muster much

sympathy for the central characters. What saves the book—or

could save it for some readers—is the author’s bumbling sweet-

ness as she feels her way through uncharted territory, learning

as she goes.

versation and information he learned about people in the earlier

volumes to gain a fuller picture of them.

In a sense, Marcel, the narrator, acts as a spy, examining peo-

ple and situations for the secret clues that reveal their identity. The

readers then become spies as well as they learn to decode history

and relationships and discover the truth. And as a closeted gay

man and assimilated Jew, Proust had a unique perspective on this

situation. He was a sort of spy himself, looking at salon society

through the eyes of a partially concealed outsider. In this respect,

Jewishness and homosexuality provide a unique way of looking

at the world that “insiders” would be likely to miss.

Carlston continues this analysis in her discussion of

Angels in

America

, particularly the play’s use of Ethel Rosenberg and Roy

Cohn. In examining the 1951 trial of the Rosenbergs for passing

atomic bomb secrets to the Russians, she remarks on the irony

that Cohn, a Jew and a closeted homosexual, helped prosecute

Julius and Ethel, fellow Jews and believers in Communism. She

argues that Cohn worked so hard against them in order to rein-

force his status as an assimilated Jew who had successfully be-

come a part of mainstream America, whereas Julius and Ethel

were still on the margins, working for social justice and involved

with a group fighting against American creeds.

While Cohn easily comes across in the play as an evil self-

hating Jew and gay man, Carlston sees some positive signs in his

resolve to be a “tough Jew,” to prosper in a world that has always

feared and despised people like him. Perhaps Ethel visits him

during his last days because he, too, is a spy, looking at the world

through an alien perspective. Through close readings, Carlston

draws logical yet unexpected conclusions like these.

March–April 2014

Isherwood Journals

I am always on the lookout for coincidences

in dates

he wrote at 34; I am 34 and mindful

how so few of us use roadmaps anymore

to get to where we think we’re going. I read

your face too easily sometimes, when you want

to be left alone to battle your mood or the room

is too loud for the portraits midwived in your brain.

I read your body like these books, always

open to things likely to flush the cheeks,

digestion of last night’s dinner, tomorrow’s

mortality; the sexual pull toward empty boys;

the constant questioning of treasure and worth.

How terribly insecure we all can feel.

Just because

I in fact won’t leave him, I have taken it

for granted he somehow knows this.

Just because

I in fact won’t leave you, I have taken it

for granted you somehow know this.

RYAN

ORLAND