Lingua Franca co-founder, Senior Fellow at the New America Foundation, and Whiting award winner Margaret Talbot writes a 10,200 word piece on the gay marriage court fight in today's New Yorker to coincide with the opening day of the California case brought by strange bedfellows David Boies and Ted Olson. Delving directly into the question of how sincere conservative Olson is on this issue, Talbot quotes him saying:
“Separate is not equal. Civil unions and domestic partnerships are not
the same as marriage. We’re not inventing any new right, or creating a
new right, or asking the courts to recognize a new right. The Supreme
Court has said over and over and over again that marriage is a
fundamental right, and although our opponents say, ‘Well, that’s always
been involving a man and a woman,’ when the Supreme Court has talked
about it they’ve said it’s an associational right, it’s a liberty
right, it’s a privacy right, and it’s an expression of your identity,
which is all wrapped up in the Constitution.” The Justices of the
Supreme Court, Olson said, “are individuals who will consider this
seriously, and give it good attention,” and he was optimistic that he
could persuade them. (The losing side in San Francisco will likely
appeal to the Ninth Circuit, and from there the case could proceed to
the Supreme Court.) Olson’s self-assurance has a sound basis: he has
argued fifty-six cases before the high court—he was one of the busiest
lawyers before the Supreme Court bench last year—and prevailed in
forty-four of them.
Plenty of people, including gay legal scholars, say defeat is inevitable. The high court doesn't lead on divisive issues like this; after all, the Loving decision was 1967, not 1959 when the couple was arrested. Recent losses in California, Maine, and New Jersey further hurt the chance of success, they say.
Yet Talbot shows the defenders of hetero-only marriage have no legal leg to stand upon. The procreation argument failed to sway the judge in pretrail hearings:
THE COURT:
The last marriage that I performed, Mr. Cooper, involved a groom who
was ninety-five, and the bride was eighty-three. I did not demand that
they prove that they intended to engage in procreative activity. Now,
was I missing something?
MR. COOPER: No, your Honor, you weren’t. Of course, you didn’t.
THE COURT: And I might say it was a very happy relationship.
MR. COOPER: I rejoice to hear that.
And the argument that gay marriage harms straight marriage disintegrated in the opposing lawyer's mouth:
Judge Walker kept asking Charles Cooper, the lawyer defending
Proposition 8, how exactly it did so. “I’m asking you to tell me,” he
said at last, “how it would harm opposite-sex marriages.”
“All right,” Cooper said.
“All right,” Walker said. “Let’s play on the same playing field for once.”
There
was a pause—it seemed like a long one to people in the courtroom,
though it was probably only a few seconds. And Cooper said, “Your
Honor, my answer is: I don’t know. I don’t know.”
Claudia Roth Pierpont surveys the contemporary Arabic novel in a long piece called Found in Translation. A rather unimaginative roundup aimed at absolute novices, her essay does correctly highlight Alaa Al Aswany's novel The Yacoubian Building
. This terrific book examines a Cairo apartment complex's tenants, one of whom, a newspaper editor named Hatim Rasheed, is gay. Despite this taboo-breaking inclusion, the 2002 novel "quickly became one of the biggest best-sellers that the Arab world has ever seen," and, Pierpont notes, "it has been an astonishingly big seller here, too," and has been reprinted in 20 languages worldwide. Perhaps even more surprisingly, the 2006 Arab film version (left and below), reputed to have cost an unprecedented $3 - $6 million in a major effort to get Egyptian filmmaking back on the global cultural map, was not degayed. A television series followed in 2007.