I've been looking forward to seeing the new film Precious for over a year now. It's adapted from one of my favorite novels, Push, by Sapphire, a woman who has a special place in my heart— she's a poet I published in 1989 in On Our Backs, one of those writers whose little story came into the slush pile and blew my mind.
Her OOB story is about a woman finding her ex, Fontaine, strung out on heroin. It's called "New Orleans."
I remember my managing editor said at the time, "It doesn't really have that much sex in it—" and I said, "Who cares? She's brilliant and what's there is unforgettable."
I've attached the original publication here.
This was at a time when lesbian authors, to put it mildly, could not get a break. Before Dorothy Allison published Bastard Out of Carolina. Before Sarah Schulman had her novel mooched for RENT. Before Pat Califia was known outside of the queer inner sanctum. Lesbians were the Sisters From Another Planet.
Remember when daytime talk show hosts weren't lesbians? When no uncloseted lesbian sang your favorite ballad on Top 40?
At the time OOB published Sapphire's "New Orleans," most lesbians were uninvited to any party and unwilling to poke their heads out. The San Francisco Chronicle would routinely run stories about gay power in the city and interview a few men. Seriously. Things had not changed that much since Queen Victoria.
I'm deliberately writing this review of Push before I view Precious. I'm curious to see how much of the lesbian storyline is carried over from the book. The marketing campaign for the movie focuses on a teenage girl brutally abused by her mother, who has borne one "mongoloid" child and has another baby on the way, both a result of rape by her father.
Rough, and true to the plot.
However, the main device of the narrative is that the protagonist is instigated to keep a diary in an English literacy class because she has to turn it in, in order to get her welfare check. Her teacher is a dyke.
When Precious begins her writing, it's a jumble of semi-literate English. It takes a moment to figure out what she's saying. Moreover, Precious has never expressed herself, or spoken openly about anything going on in her life. What rolls out is a cannon.
If Push is about ONE thing, it's this: when speaking truth to power, literacy is your sword.
As Precious claims the written word, her life is revolutionized.
The English classroom is filled with other illiterate teenage girls and we get to see some of their diaries, too. They're all wonderful. The teacher IS Sapphire. She really did this work for a living and she came out as a dyke to her students, which plays a scene in the book.
As disenfranchised as lesbians were at the time, her students were even more invisible. They were the unseen and uncared for. That this class even existed for a time was a miracle.
It seems odd to say that Push is a "feel-good" story— but it is! You scream aloud with joy as Precious begins to articulate what she feels and sees around her. Any teacher is going to cry for two weeks because this is what you LIVE for.
Sapphire has famously said that she wanted to write a novel where a young woman's life is transformed without a "Prince Charming." There's no man, there's no diet, there's no beauty makeover. The makeover happens inside and it's all because she TELLS HER STORY.
I cannot wait to see this.
Below, some insider clips:
Some of you may know Gabby's mother, Alice Tan Ridley, who sings at the 42nd Street Subway station. She was the one who suggested her daughter go the audition. Awesome.
And here's a lecture by Sapphire herself, after she won her recognition for Push. For those of us who loved her work before "Hollywood," this is a very special occasion.
Sapphire Lecture/Reading, 2007.
And finally, here's the trailer for Precious:







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