Homoerotic Archaeology: February 2025

Friday, February 7, 2025

Advocate Men (February 1985), Part One

As the AIDS epidemic decimated the gay community at the start of the 1980s, prejudice began to rise: many dentists and family physicians dropped patients they perceived as gay and funeral directors throughout the nation refused to prepare the bodies of deceased persons who tested positive for HIV. To control the virus’ spread, medical professionals – specifically those in San Francisco and New York – began pushing for the closure of bathhouses. The action divided the community. Some gay men saw the activity as a necessary precaution; however, others viewed it as a form of anti-gay discrimination. Fed by conspiracy theories that the government was using the virus as biological warfare against the community, they refused to trust the findings of government agencies and medical reports which identified the establishments as primary spreading grounds for the virus. In 1983, this debate reached an apex when New York City’s Office of Gay and Lesbian Health fought the closure of the city’s bathhouses, rejecting the scientific data and arguing shuttering the facilities eradicated safe spaces for gay men and would only lead them to find sexual encounters elsewhere in dangerous locations. They were supported by the businesses themselves; but, as sociologist Amin Ghaziani explains, their union was not born out of solidarity for civil rights but profit, since closing bathhouses would mean financial ruin. In his 1985 novel Jack the Modernist, Robert Glück recalls what life in bathhouses was like prior to the AIDS epidemic and fights over closure. A portion of his book is published in this February 1985 issue of Advocate Men (which has been broken into two parts). Also contained in this first half is a cartoon by Donelan, a showcase of Victor Arimondi’s art, the short story “Sweet Dreams” (about two soldiers in the Vietnam War), and photospreads of boyfriends Joe and Justin.

What is Homoerotic Archaeology?

In 2016, I discovered several discarded boxes at an estate sale. Under their flimsy flaps were hundreds of well-worn issues of homoerotic magazines from the 1970s, 1980s, and 1990s. I purchased them out of mild intrigue and, as I perused their pages, I was startled to realize that something commonly disregarded as pornographic smut earnestly chronicled the evolution of gay culture: the social and sexual liberation of the 1970s, the crushing devastation from AIDS during the 1980s, and the gradual strengthening of the community in the 1990s. As a gay man, I was touched by the subtle narrative these publications told. As a historian, I was motivated to digitally preserve their content. And, as an educator, I was driven to create a platform to share that information freely with others interested in the progression of gay society. Homoerotic Archaeology is that venue. Here you will find the advertisements, articles, short stories, and (of course) pictures found in these magazines lovingly preserved and presented for future generations of gay men to enjoy and study.

Why Preserve Homoerotica?

As early as the 1970s, scholars such as June Rook have stressed the need to preserve homosexual history in an effort to combat repression and establish a cultural background for future generations. Much of the preservation process admirably focuses on the substantial works of homosexual artists and thinkers; however, it sadly ignores other elements quintessential to the community’s history, particularly homoerotica. Although frequently labeled obscene filth, homoerotica has, just like the significant creations of artists and thinkers, been a prevalent part of the group’s culture and has played an integral role in shaping identities and perceptions (consider how influential Tom of Finland’s hypermasculinity has been in molding the body ideals of modern gay men). Due to this factor, the conservation of homoerotica is just as essential as the preservation of major artistic and theoretical homosexual works.