The Sexual Outlaw: A Documentary (Rechy, John)

John Rechy is a classic writer, as the top of his form in this book. The narrative parts are neatly written, not too many adjectives, not too much drama, so you have to fill in a lot of it in your own mind. In between the narrative are passages about how it was being gay in Los Angeles during the 1970's. They're valuable historically, but also for Rechy's vision of what it means to live with dignity in a world of judgment and oppression. It's just a beautiful book overall, and I'm glad I bought it.

This important piece of Gay literature is often overlooked. It is the voice of an entire sub-genre of our fight for equality, one whose voice made us seen, but now seems all but forgotten.

Great story! So glad it is available on Kindle. A classic gay man's story before the era of AIDS. Very empowering reading.

Good read A++

Described as "A Documentary," THE SEXUAL OUTLAW is an unexpected construction and as such it is an extremely, extremely difficult work to describe--part fact, part opinion, part autobiography, and part fiction--and often blurring the distinction between the four. Published in 1977, the book is essentially a snapshot of the underbelly of the Los Angeles community through John Rechy moved in that decade. The fictional material concerns Jim, a man that the rest of the book encourages us to read as Rechy himself, who travels a stream of sexual contacts over the course of a long weekend: sex at the beach, in the park, on the street, in the bar, in the alley. And always running one step ahead of a highly hypocritical society and police department that is forever in hot pursuit to arrest, eradicate, and destroy him and his kind forever. These are the "sexual outlaws." The remaining portions of the book veers from sado-masochism to double sexual standards to corrupt police officers to newspaper headlines--and all, ultimately, in an effort to explain why a person such as "Jim" would actively select such a nihilistic way of life. And Rechy does indeed have a point; to a certain extent, the choice is between rebelling against or being buried by the status quo. In one sense, the book will--or at least should--make your blood boil in its highly accurate depiction of the horrific repression homosexuals have faced in the past and indeed might again face in the future. It also conveys a sense of the excitement of the illicit sexual chase. At the same time, Rechy does not spare you the emptiness and ugliness of such a lifestyle; indeed, he makes such aspects of wholesale promiscuity extremely apparent. In the end, Rechy seems to be saying that when the choice is between rebelling or being buried, he prefers to rebel. But there is a catch in here: he presents a street-sex lifestyle as the only possible rebellion and to a certain extent tries to posit his own choices as a commonplace. At one point in the book, Rechy states that he has had over 7000 sexual contacts up that point--which breaks down to an average of about one contact per day for twenty years. I don't doubt that such people exist and I don't doubt that some of them are homosexual, but I have extreme doubts about how statistically typical this would be of any segment of the population, male or female, gay or straight. Because of this Rechy tends to undercut his own argument, and a whiff of self-justification begins to enter the mix as the book progresses. That aside, the adventures of Jim become repetitive and seem less included than to make a point than as expertly written pornography. I need hardly add that the advent of AIDS and changing attitudes and laws about homosexuality have left the book extremely dated. Even so, this is in some respects the best of Rechy's work, very direct, passionate, clearly written in white-hot anger; it is remarkably driven in tone, furious in execution. I would not really recommend it to a casual reader, but I think it is important as a social document, and it deserves to be read on that basis. GFT, Amazon Reviewer

Like many of Rechy's books, THE SEXUAL OUTLAW is powerful, fascinating, and very depressing. The themes present in his novels are here in this non-fiction work - the power of physical beauty, narcissm, sex as liberation, unfulfilled desire, etc. Along with a narrative of one hustler's quest for validation through his sexual encounters, Rechy threads in a treatise on what it means to be homosexual in twentieth century America. Much of what he says is relevant to the twenty-first century as well, as the current battle over same-sex marriage attests. Those looking for explicit sex will find it in abundance here. Rechy pulls no punches in his depiction of homoerotic love. Yet he is wise enough to see the sadness in the "sexhunt," and his "character" Jim, we know, will never find that elusive thing for which he searches, the combination of sexual gratification and personal intimacy. None of us will find it. We hate Jim for his narcissm and his superficiality but admire his rebel stance. He is a man-loving man not ashamed of the fact. Rechy's accounts of police corruption concerning gay men and the hours spent nabbing "sexhunters" that could otherwise be spent apprehending murderers, rapists, and thieves are enough to make one's blood boil. And I love his comments on gay sensibility. But I find his whole stance on S&M somewhat puzzling and hypocritical. While no advocate of or participant in that particular sexual lifestyle, I fail to see the difference between the physical pain inflicted by "masters" upon "slaves" and the psychological pain engendered in the course of the sexhunt. Indeed it would seem the latter pain would be the more enduring and damaging. This is an important book, more than twenty-five years old, but still relevant.