Heteronormative breach.

English class my junior year of high school was highly concerned with pieces of lit-Americana. Readings included Gatsby and The Sun Also Rises, some Gertrude Stein, Fred Douglass, and, for Molly, Norwegian Wood (if I remember correctly). She had a Jesus bag, or something. Our teacher adored two distinct ‘things’ or ‘ideas’ very clearly, but these were really the only features I understood about him—they were Reverend Billy’s Church of Stop Shopping and the unrelenting beating of all text into queer-theoretical analysis. Later I found out his ‘bf’ is a biker bear, which kind of clarified things a whole lot, now that I think about it.

Seems like perhaps the theme of that year can be summarized by stories of unsatisfied temptation and the destruction potentially lurking beyond it.