Autopornography: A Memoir of Life in the Lust Lane (Haworth Gay & Lesbian Studies)

Rating:
Summary: Please Don't Take Us There!
Review: There's something obscene -- not to say pornographic -- about the idea that Scott O'Hara, whose stellar contributions to queer life and literature include "Do-It-Yourself Piston Polishing," published by Masquerade Books in 1996, should be getting even another minute's extension on the fifteen minutes of fame he has already been granted by a gay male public that continues to bend over backwards to demonstrate that its bad taste can't be overestimated. O'Hara, erstwhile publisher of _Steam_ and _Wilde_ mags, suddenly declared bankruptcy on those magazines in 1996, leaving writers (among many others) in the lurch -- to the tune of several thousand dollars -- for work those magazines had previously commissioned and accepted. Though he owns several homes, numerous cars, and a collection of erotic art that is worth a small fortune, O'Hara felt no compunction in turning his back on the mags and leaving his lawyers to complete the screwing of his vendors and writers. For several months, in fact, while he waited for the scandal to die down, O'Hara took a powder out of the country. And now we have "Autopornography," a memoir that is supposed to convert O'Hara's singularly unhealthy, usurious, manipulative, and even sociopathic life into some sort of model for a generation. Well, if Richard Nixon could be redeemed, perhaps O'Hara can, too. For my money, however, O'Hara's book is nothing more than Bret Easton Ellis meets *Long Dong Silver* -- another defense of the wastoid eighties, of a life devoted to materialistic pursuits, and of the proposition that sex really IS what gay men do best. The utter lack of introspection in this memoir (I don't even ask for humility, morality, or the examination of conscience) renders it depressing and disingenous in the extreme.