Customer Reviews

All I Could Bare: My Life in the Strip Clubs of Gay Washington, D.C.

5 star:		(22)
4 star:		(4)
3 star:		(3)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

In this unique and engaging memoir, Craig Seymour attributes his childhood fascination with street hookers, glimpsed as his parents drove through his native D.C. at night, as the likely motivation to do his master's thesis on the social interaction of male strippers and their customers in the "hands on" D.C. gay clubs of the late '80's and early '90's. When one of his interviewees at the clubs suggested he'd get a much better perspective by actually working as a stripper, he agreed, with much trepidation yet excitement at no longer being an "outsider" in that world. For a period of years that reached through his doctoral studies, Seymour became a regular performer at several of these clubs located in the seedy S.E. section of downtown, ironically a short distance from the White House and Pentagon. Throughout these years, he returned home each night to his longtime (and first) lover, Seth, who didn't really understand his need to dance naked in front of strangers instead of teaching (as he did) to finance his graduate studies, but nevertheless tolerated it as something Craig needed to do.

The "memoir" section of most gay book stores has no shortage of books by former strippers, escorts or porn stars, doing a "tell-all" about their exploits for a willing audience of readers. Seymour's book is refreshingly different from this crowd, not just because he "drew the line" at stripping, but because he recognizes and reflects on the reasons why he needed to do it, and how it has helped and shaped his personality and future career aspirations, which included a stint as a music critic, celebrity journalist/photographer, and now as a professor of English. It's a witty and positive message of being open to live one's dreams, regardless of any possible consequences, and being honest and open-minded in dealings with people you meet at any stage in your life. The book also gives considerable insight into the mindset of other strippers, including "gay for pay" straight boys there (supposedly) just for the money, as well as the lives of some of the regular (but occasionally racist) customers, who craved the forced intimacy and fantasy "connection" made with these boys. Last but not least, it gives a historical and political perspective on gay nightlife in Seymour's beloved home town, which razed all of these clubs about ten years ago to make room for the new baseball stadium for the Washington Nationals. Much recommended, five dancing stars out of five.

When this book first came across my desk, I wondered if I'd be able to relate to some gay guy who fantasizes about stripping, and then makes that fantasy come true. But this book is about more than that. Sure, that's Craig Seymour's story, and he's sticking to it, but he also makes the book about so much more: about following your dreams and passions, about facing down your fears, about being who you really are. And to top it all off, Seymour accomplishes all this with a page-turning narrative that somehow manages to be raunchy, inspirational and hilarious, all at the same time. If you can only read one book this summer, this one is it.

LOVED THIS BOOK! It's easy to read and entertaining and deep all at the same time. Seymour goes from being a guy who wanted his epitaph to say "He Never Embarrassed His Parents" to a stripper who takes all his clothes off so men could fondle him for money. Craig comes across as a guy you'd hope to meet and not just for his body. As only someone who's participated in the system can describe, he grasps the nuances and complexities of sex work.

He seems to have a great spirit with observations like the following:

"It was easy to think of the customers as just dirty old men, but many, like Dave, had led lives that had been full of secrets and compromise. That made their time at the clubs seem less like a hedonistic indulgence and more like a taste of hard-worn freedom."

He also pays tribute to Frank Kameny, an often-overlooked brave pioneer in the days of pre-Stonewall gay equality and exposes the hypocritical Matt Drudge.

Thanks for baring your soul, Craig!

Rich Merritt, author of Code of Conductand Secrets Of A Gay Marine Porn Star

Funny, charming, brutally honest, and at times downright addicting; Seymour creates a vivid picture of how one simple research assignment can lead to a journey of self discovery. Seymour's story is both relatable and inspiring as he takes his audience on a whirlwind trip from eager customer to behind the scenes stripper; while exposing the highs and lows of his struggle to feel comfortable in his own...G-string. Stripper or not this tale of love, loss, and ultimate sacrifice shows that no dream is too big to achieve once you step outside of your comfort zone and expose (no pun intended...well maybe a little) yourself to the world.

On the surface, Craig Seymour's "All I Could Bare," is simply a coming-of-age chronicle of his adventures as a gay stripper in the late 80's and early 90's, in the notorious, no-holds-barred gay nightclubs of downtown Washington, D.C., a scene which had flourished in plain sight for more than two decades. The book briefly traces the neighborhood's historical development and notoriety as a gay mecca and offers up some interesting, if not entirely original, composites of characters. These range from (gay and "straight") chiseled poster boys--who gleefully profited from the attentions (and the hefty tips) of their rapturous admirers--to the largely diverse and self-aware crowd of "sugar daddies" who avidly sought, paid for and indulged in sexual fantasies elsewhere denied them.

But "All I Could Bare" is actually a time-honored search for self, identity, a sense of place and community, the quest to make sense of it all. In contrast to the work of the controversial "gay" author John Rechy, there are no kernels of nihilism here: Seymour inevitably manages to wean himself from the nightclubs (though never quite entirely), gradually morphing into a skillful entertainment journalist and, later still, forging a successful career in academia (Rechy also parlayed his vast experience--and his existential angst--as a gay hustler into a profitable academic sideline). All told, Seymour's journey is a bona fide--albeit improbable-- success story told with a great sense of humor and insight.

For all its merits, however, the memoir is not faultless. Despite his frankness, Seymour is pathologically selfish, as when he describes the painful break-up of a long-term relationship and scarcely pauses to acknowledge the shattering effect that his obsession with stripping had on his partner. I also wish Seymour had been more forthcoming about the minefield of race relations within the gay community. As a Black man light enough to pass as Latino or "other" than Black, Seymour himself appears to have been exclusively attracted to Whites. For all his self-examination, he offers little to explain his obvious compulsion to seek White (beauty-standard) validation--something that no amount of nurturing from his attentive Black family could assuage. Moreover, his tendency to skim over the persistent problem of gay racism begs the question of whether he would have had such a rewarding run as a stripper if he had not often been assumed to be any other nationality. Indeed, a less amiable writer might have challenged or at least pondered this unsavory aspect of the culture more deeply. These foibles matter, especially in a book that literally and figuratively proclaims full-frontal disclosure. And yet in all other aspects, "All I Could Bare" feels authentic and true. The book is so engrossing that I could not put it down, and it took only a few hours to read. For better or worse, this is one memoir that offers a relatively sunny tour of a very peculiar fun-house that is never less than fascinating.

I could not put this book down. Perfect for a summer read.
Memoirs, especially by gay men, are the rage these days....this did not disappoint.

You don't have to be a stripper or gay to appreciate the life lessons learned by Seymour in this memoir. The addictive tale (I couldn't put it down), which is artfully interspersed with gay culture and history not only reveals him during his most self aware moments but also creates moments for the reader to feel that way as well. It is a captivating, relatable life story that is at times funny, thoughtful and poignant. Any writer, as well as anyone who is struggling to figure out where they fit in the world, or wondering whether they should just go for their wildest dreams, will be inspired by Seymour's decision to bare it all and go after what he wanted from life.

I first heard of this book from a quick blurb on Sirius OutQ. I am fascinated with male strippers, so I knew I had to get this book. I rushed to work and ordered it the second I got online. The book arrived within a few days and I read it from cover to cover in no time flat. This was the most entertaining book I have read in a long time. Craig Seymour writes this book in such a way that you feel like you are right there with him, going through everything with him. It is like reading a graphic novel without the pictures. Every chapter tells another story and you don't want the book to end. As someone who missed the male stripper era in Washington DC, this book made me feel like I was there, but made me wish I was there even more! Told honestly and frankly, Craig leaves nothing out. He should be commended for a job well done. I recommend this to anyone who wants to be entertained. I give it my highest marks!

I picked this book up with great interest, because I wanted to know what "really" goes on in the world of strippers. I found that this was essentially an apololgia, rather than an expose. The author does spends the first half of the book exploring both his motives and the supposed motives of the men that paid him, then goes into an extended rationalization for his activities, followed with a rather uninteresting account of his life since. What we have is a justification for a man doing exactly what he wanted to do, which includes hurting his lover. When his lover says, in effect, "why ask my opinion, you're going to do it anyway", he is dead on. There isn't much here that is news.

A no-holds-barred look into a part of Washington DC that never gets mentioned when discussing our nation's capitol in high school, All I Could Bare is as revealing as the title suggests. As a shaker of rump--all in the name of academic pursuits of course--Seymour uses his humor and wit to chronicle how stripping and other brief forays into sex work made him the confident, successful journalist he is today. Inspiring and totally entertaining, All I Could Bare is a must read and speaks to the daredevil in all of us; gay, straight or other.