Anthony Heilbut - The Fan Who Knew Too Much: Aretha Franklin, the Rise of the Soap Opera, Children of the Gospel Church, and Other Meditations

This Is a Borzoi Book
Published by Alfred A. Knopf

Copyright 2012 by Anthony Heilbut
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Alfred A. Knopf, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, and in Canada by Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto.
www.aaknopf.com

Knopf, Borzoi Books, and the colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.

Portions of this book appeared in The Believer, Harpers Magazine, The Los Angeles Times Book Review, The Nation, The New Yorker, The New York Times Book Review, and Truthdig

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Heilbut, Anthony.
The fan who knew too much : Aretha Franklin, the rise of the soap opera, children of the gospel church, and other meditations / by Anthony Heilbut.
p. cm.
This is a Borzoi BookT.p. verso.
eISBN: 978-0-307-95847-1
1. Popular cultureUnited States. 2. Gospel musicUnited States. 3. United StatesCivilization1945 4. United StatesSocial conditions1945 5. CelebritiesUnited States. 6. Fans (Persons)United States. I. Title.
E1 69.12 .H 435 2012
973.91dc23 2012003699

Jacket design by Carol Devine Carson

v3.1

IN MEMORY OF OTTO HEILBUT (18911970)
and BERTHA HEILBUT (19112003)

S ome years ago PBS ran a special on Dr. Alfred Kinsey and his investigations of homosexuality in American society. One historian was less than persuaded. He admitted that Kinsey had been impressively thorough in his considerations of business or the military or education. But he had ignored certain groups, the scholar argued. What if he had interviewed the members of a Pentecostal church?

Having been a close observer of African-American gospel music for almost fifty years, I decided to ask the same question of several singers and musicians, and got the following responses:

They woulda lied.

From the pulpit to the door.

Baby, those figures would have gone up the roose-rooftop.

Church? Thats the childrens home away from home.

But most often, the response was simple laughter. They heard the question as rhetorical; everyone knew better than the quizzical professor. They also knew that it is impossible to understand the story of black America without foregrounding the experiences of the gay men of gospel. From music to politics their role has been crucial; their witness, to quote their mothers Bible, prophetic.

That witness has not always been acknowledged. Occasionally it has been suppressed. One of Glenn Becks arch black supporters happens to be Martin Luther Kings niece Alveda. She denies any connection between civil rights and homosexuality. The civil rights movement was born from the Bible, she insists, and everyone knows that God hates homosexuality. She neglected to mention that two of the movements greatest architects were gay men, Bayard Rustin, a former singer, who made his recording debut with a gospel quartet, and Alfred A. Duckett, who was, among many other roles, Mahalia Jacksons publicity agent.

From the storefront church to the courts of Europe, from the poorhouse to the White House, the gay men of gospel have, as the songs say, opened doors that were closed in their face, and made a way out of no way.

Truman Capote once said that a faggot was a homosexual gentleman who had just left the room. In church circles, gay and bisexual men are regularly identified as sissies or punksterms sometimes used, and often not more kindly, by the men themselves. Almost as common and much friendlier is the appellation the children, a term rich with its allusion to the lifetime quest of a mothers favorite son. Thus, Evangelist Willie Mae Ford Smith might slyly recognize the members of her congregation, Its so good to see the children and the children.

For well over a hundred years, these men have been, along with their mothers and sisters, the black churchs rock and shield. They have been among the most faithful members and the most vivid celebrants:

Nobody shouts like the children, said an old church mother, alluding to the folkloric term for holy dancing. With eyes shut, gay men have danced steps that would both anticipate and transcend the partiers in any club. They have brought such imaginative and critical resources to the church that for many yearsand even now during the homophobic reaction that has swept fundamentalismthey have been the unacknowledged arbiters of the culture.

They have been the master orchestrators of the Spirit. Most preachers could not survive without the young, underpaid keyboard man underlining his words with rhetorical stabs and moanlike runs. Evangelist Ernestine Cleveland grumbled, You all cant have church unless you got some punk on the organ. Along with the women members of the congregationall of them pledged to their pastor and many, according to legend, romantically attached as wellgay men have helped conduct the Spirit. When the sissies jump out of their seats, folks know to stand up. Their worship is gracefully athletic. Ive seen gay men stand and move rhythmically through most of a pastors message, anticipating the communal shout that may be a sermons length away, that may never even occur. Ive seen dancing leaps that can only be compared to broad jumpswhile running, Reverend Isaac Douglas is said to have leapt over a small pond.

The children have also brought the cold eyes of a professional to the ritual and ceremony. If you aint moved them, says DeLois Barrett Campbell, you aint done nothing. Mahalia Jackson was the worlds gospel queen, but her gay pals could always upset her by saying that her best singing days were over. The critics were nice, and the fortune she earned spoke for itself. But she knew that the children were the real judges.

They have also made the church their special arena. As recently as 2007 I saw a middle-aged man dance around a Harlem church with a fire that no hip-hopper could approach. I asked Brother Charles if he had ever danced in a club. Sir, they tried to make me a soul singer. They said I had the looks and the voice. But soon as that band started up I got as stiff as a white boy. I lost all my rhythm. Perhaps because it wasnt his blues. I long ago concluded that gospel music was the blues of gay men and lesbians. This may explain why so many great singers either didnt go into pop or failed in their trying. Bishop Carl Bean, a former Motown artist, says, I just never felt right up there, singing about my girl. The late Gloria Griffin, who made a stab at club singing, in emulation of her great friend Aretha Franklin, gave it up. I can sing about the love of God. The love of man, I dont know too much about that.

However, the first time I heard the word soul as it is currently used, it was in a gay context. In 1957 Sam Cooke confounded the church by moving from gospel to R&B. Hell do fine, a clerk at Harlems Record Shack assured me. Hes got soul. He then informed me that Sam liked men as well as women. Sure hes gay, how else could he have that much soul? (I next heard the term used by Malcolm X, who asserted that soul was black peoples contribution to America.)