Love The One You're With by James Earl Hardy
By Keith Boykin, in books
Saturday, June 15 2002, 6:00AM
The best way to get a man is to have a man. That's what Mitchell "Little Bit" Crawford discovers in James Earl Hardy's new novel, Love the One You're With.
Not that Mitchell is looking, of course, but he does learn that men come out of the woodwork when they know you're dating someone else. And when that someone else is conveniently away, as is this case in this book, the men seem to show up just to tempt you. At the core of Hardy's funny, witty, and entertaining new book is one question: Do men and monogamy mix? Or as Ashford & Simpson asked each other it in their famous song, "Is it still good to you?" In a twist on Ebenezer Scrooge's story in Charles Dickens's Christmas Carol, Mitchell is approached by the real life ghosts of the past, present, and future who attempt to lure him into their bedrooms.
Although the book is not about sex, sex is everywhere to be found. One of the funniest scenes depicts a black gay Republican, who normally dates white men, talking dirty to a black man in the bedroom. Another involves a bilingual sexual encounter between Gene and Angel. Perhaps the funniest and most surprising scene takes place in Mitchell's own classroom.
The Story
The story line is simple and predictable. In fact, it's not so much a plot as it is a series of vignettes woven together to make a story. The title itself should tell you the story.
In the second chapter of the book, Mitchell says, "I never seriously considered that someone could sweep me off my feet. . . . But that was all about to change." If you haven't figured out the story from that line, then you should be reading Harry Potter novels instead of grownup books. From then on, there's little mystery to the plot; it's just a question of who and when. Hardy does keep you guessing about who -- as man after man after man pops into Mitchell's life -- but in the end you know what's going to happen.
Perhaps the least believable subplot involved Montee's description of his dysfunctional family. I've heard of dysfunctional before, but this one takes the cake. This boy's family is fucked up. There's no other way to say it. It's a lot of material to throw at the reader in the last fifty pages. In fact, Montee's story could be a book itself.
The Writing
Hardy's writing is mostly colloquial, but often belying the depth beneath it. His familiar parenthetical prose may be helpful to the ingenue and the uninitiated, but not as necessary for the experienced black gay male reader.
Hardy is at his best with his descriptive powers, as when he describes Gene's National Geographic inspired apartment, replete with "four peacock tails encased in a gold frame, and four elephant tusks . . . grafted onto the red brick." But some of the descriptions come too quickly and don't necessarily advance the plot.
Some passages read like literature by litany, as when Mitchell lists virtually every major disco tune or hit of the 70s and 80s. (Yes, we know you know them, but you don't have to prove it to us.)
As always, Hardy coins his own words and phrases. Not just the ubiquitous word "jood," which dates back to the early B-Boy Blues books, but other clever phrases such as "booty rush," "Democrooks," "Republiklans," and DSLs (Dick Sucking Lips).
Some of the best writing is about sex. One chapter is devoted entirely to a phone sex conversation between Mitchell and Raheim. But for the most part, the hot sex scenes don't involve the now famous couple. Instead, the hottest scenes are juxtaposed against the mostly lovey dovey playful phone talk between Mitchell and Raheim.
The coup de grace of the writing appears near the end of the book, but the end to chapter 17, itself, is quite clever.
The Issues
This book deals with so many issues that it's hard to keep track at times. If there's an issue James Earl Hardy doesn't raise in this book, I'm not aware of it.
He tackles everything under the sun: interracial dating, monogamy, bisexuality, spirituality, sexist language, bad waiters, mandatory restaurant gratuities, the state of black music, political party politics, black gay Republicans, the Vietnam War, charter schools, teacher salaries, educational tracking, "driving while black," affirmative action, the war on drugs, "going out of business" sales, Gladys Knight's best song, Rudy Giuliani, the myth of the homogeneous nuclear family, and how white people ruined disco music.
Throw in nuclear proliferation and the mideast war, and you've got a regular encyclopedia here. Whatever issue you can think of, Hardy has an opinion on it, and it's probably in this book.
The chapter on Pete, the black gay Republican, seems less about a potential love interest for Mitchell than about the relative merits and demerits of the two dominant political parties.
What does all this have to do with the story? I'm not sure. But most of the analysis is brilliant, including, for example, his examination of the Clarence Thomas hearings and his dissection of black men who refuse to date other blacks. I was also intrigued by Hardy's description of black gay men, as when he challenges the "aloofness, antagonism, and attimatude that pollutes much of the black gay club scene."
I did take issue with one or two minor points, especially Ras Akhbar's question, "When was the last time you ever heard of one of us being killed by a brother or sister because of who we love?" I seem to remember just last year a black gay man was shot in Harlem by another black man. But regardless, violence is only one measure of homophobia.
Racial Stereotypes
Despite their critique of white stereotypes about blacks, the characters sometimes slip into their own racial reductionism, as when Pooquie suggests the movie Forrest Gump should have been called "Forrest Junk" because "Only white folks would go fuh some American-pie bullshit like that."
At another point, Mitchell refers to "that phony-ass smile white folks wear when they know they've been caught in their shit." And when challenging the decision to cast John Travolta as the lead in Saturday Night Fever, Mitchell explains "that if a brother was cast, they wouldn't have had to teach him how to dance. It might be a stereotype, but we just got it in our blood."
Sexuality Stereotypes
Hardy continues to titillate his audience with tales of closeted pro sports figures and hip hop artists who defy the stereotypes, but at other times the characters and the book seem to reinforce them.
"For gay men, there is no such thing as a little shopping," Mitchell says. "You can never get a roomful of fags together and not expect digits to be exchanged," he says later.
Mitchell also complains when bisexual Montee uses the word "chick" but doesn't flinch when his own friends refer to each other as "bitch."
Montee explains that he doesn't have many gay friends because he doesn't like the way gay men talk, especially "[a]ll that bitch this and girl that and Miss Thing." Mitchell responds that "all gay men don't talk like that." But if that's the case, you'd never know it from Mitchell and his own friends.
In one scene, Mitchell describes himself "kee-keeing" with his friend Gene. Gene then explains that B.D., another male friend, is "in the ladies room." B.D. returns and yells "how fagulous" as he "sashays" toward the other two men. He then describes himself as a "married woman" and refers to Mitchell as "hon" and "dahling" and calls Gene a "jaded queen." Gene fires back, "Shut up, bitch."
Given these exchanges, why wouldn't Montee think all gay men talk like that? That's how most of them talk in this novel. One of the chapters is even called "That's What (Girl)Friends Are For." Is this challenging stereotypes or buying into them?
A Pop Culture Book
James Earl Hardy knows pop culture. The main character, Mitchell, seems to know every television show, every R&B song, every movie from the late 80s and early 90s, every disco song from the 70s, and every classic black and white movie that's popular in gay culture.
If there's one thing Hardy knows better than black gay men, it's music. Much of the book, including the title, seems to be culled from the Billboard charts. The characters even occasionally talk in song lyrics. "I'll see you next lifetime," one says. Reluctant to be the first to say goodbye, the other replies, "Neither one of us . . . " It's as if Erykah Badu and Gladys Knight were singing to each other.
In the end, Hardy's book is a fun, entertaining way to help enjoy the summer. Unlike beach novels, though, it does make you think and it may even spark a debate or two. So put on an old Ashford & Simpson CD, prop yourself on a patio, and pull out Love The One You're With.
Your E-mails
C. Brooks writes: "I finished this book last week and it is steamy and jood. So good that I picked his whole collection for my book club this summer."
Elmo Terry-Morgan writes: "I started reading Love The One You're With this past Saturday at 2:30 pm. At 9:30 pm that night I realized I had spent the entire day reading it in one sitting. It was so good to visit with Little Bit/Mitchell, Pooquie/Raheim, and the boys. I could use words like "authenticity" and "verisimilitude" to describe James Earl Hardy's writing but what it comes down to is the man can write a damn good story! I didn't want it to end. But, I know it won't. I'm sure Hardy is already penning the next installment when we learn what Raheim was really doing in Hollywood for those two weeks when he and Mitchell were apart. Something tells me those two guys are gonna have to fess up to each other at some point in time."