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Desert of the Heart
Two women meet and fall in love in Reno, Nevada. Set in the late fifties, this classic of lesbian eroticism is Jane Rule's first novel.
Set in the late 1950s, this is the story of Evelyn Hall, an English Professor, who goes to Reno to obtain a divorce and put an end to her disastrous 16-year marriage. While staying at a boarding house to establish her six-week residency requirement she meets Ann Childs, a casino worker and fifteen years her junior. Physically, they are remarkably alike and eventually have an affair and begin the struggle to figure out just how a relationship between two women can last. Desert of the Heart examines the conflict between convention and freedom and the ways in which the characters try to resolve the conflict.
Set in the late 1950s, this is the story of Evelyn Hall, an English Professor, who goes to Reno to obtain a divorce and put an end to her disastrous 16-year marriage. While staying at a boarding house to establish her six-week residency requirement she meets Ann Childs, a casino worker and fifteen years her junior. Physically, they are remarkably alike and eventually have an affair and begin the struggle to figure out just how a relationship between two women can last. Desert of the Heart examines the conflict between convention and freedom and the ways in which the characters try to resolve the conflict.
252 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1964
About the author
Jane Rule
26 books81 followersJane Vance Rule was a Canadian writer of lesbian-themed novels and non-fiction. American by birth and Canadian by choice, Rule's pioneering work as a writer and activist reached across borders.
Rule was born on March 28, 1931, in Plainfield, New Jersey, and raised in the Midwest and California. She earned a bachelor’s degree in English from Mills College in 1952. In 1954 she joined the faculty of the Concord Academy, a private school in Massachusetts. There Rule met Helen Sonthoff, a fellow faculty member who became her life partner. They settled in Vancouver in 1956. Eventually they both held positions at the University of British Columbia until 1976 when they moved to Galiano Island. Sonthoff died in 2000, at 83. Rule died at the age of 76 on November 28, 2007 at her home on Galiano Island due to complications from liver cancer, refusing any treatment that would take her from the island.
A major literary figure in Canada, she wrote seven novels as well as short stories and nonfiction. But it was for Desert of the Heart that she remained best known. The novel published in 1964, is about a professor of English literature who meets and falls in love with a casino worker in Reno. It was made into a movie by Donna Deitch called Desert Hearts in 1985, which quickly became a lesbian classic.
Rule, who became a Canadian citizen in the 1960s, was awarded the Order of British Columbia in 1998 and the Order of Canada in 2007. In 1994, Rule was the subject of a Genie-awarding winning documentary, Fiction and Other Truths; a film about Jane Rule, directed by Lynne Fernie and Aerlyn Weissman, produced by Rina Fraticelli. She received the Canadian Authors Association best novel and best short story awards, the American Gay Academic Literature Award, the U.S. Fund for Human Dignity Award of Merit, the CNIB's Talking Book of the Year Award and an honorary doctorate of letters from the University of British Columbia. In January of 2007, Rule was awarded the Alice B. Toklas Medal “for her long and storied career as a lesbian novelist.”
Proud Life - Jane Rule: 1931 - 2007 by Marilyn Schuster
Jane Rule 1996 - George Woodcock Lifetime Achievement Award
Rule was born on March 28, 1931, in Plainfield, New Jersey, and raised in the Midwest and California. She earned a bachelor’s degree in English from Mills College in 1952. In 1954 she joined the faculty of the Concord Academy, a private school in Massachusetts. There Rule met Helen Sonthoff, a fellow faculty member who became her life partner. They settled in Vancouver in 1956. Eventually they both held positions at the University of British Columbia until 1976 when they moved to Galiano Island. Sonthoff died in 2000, at 83. Rule died at the age of 76 on November 28, 2007 at her home on Galiano Island due to complications from liver cancer, refusing any treatment that would take her from the island.
A major literary figure in Canada, she wrote seven novels as well as short stories and nonfiction. But it was for Desert of the Heart that she remained best known. The novel published in 1964, is about a professor of English literature who meets and falls in love with a casino worker in Reno. It was made into a movie by Donna Deitch called Desert Hearts in 1985, which quickly became a lesbian classic.
Rule, who became a Canadian citizen in the 1960s, was awarded the Order of British Columbia in 1998 and the Order of Canada in 2007. In 1994, Rule was the subject of a Genie-awarding winning documentary, Fiction and Other Truths; a film about Jane Rule, directed by Lynne Fernie and Aerlyn Weissman, produced by Rina Fraticelli. She received the Canadian Authors Association best novel and best short story awards, the American Gay Academic Literature Award, the U.S. Fund for Human Dignity Award of Merit, the CNIB's Talking Book of the Year Award and an honorary doctorate of letters from the University of British Columbia. In January of 2007, Rule was awarded the Alice B. Toklas Medal “for her long and storied career as a lesbian novelist.”
Proud Life - Jane Rule: 1931 - 2007 by Marilyn Schuster
Jane Rule 1996 - George Woodcock Lifetime Achievement Award
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 274 reviews
January 2, 2014
It’s easy to forget when you’re reading Desert of the Heart, by American-turned Canadian author Jane Rule, that it was actually published in 1964. But it is essential to remember, because it’s astonishing, really, that this kind of lesbian novel was even published (in hardcover no less) at a time when cheap paperback lesbian pulp novels—with appropriately depressing endings—were the only kind of contemporary books available with queer women’s content. It’s not only that the novel doesn’t condemn either of the women for their desire, although that is significant; it’s that Desert of the Heart presents a startlingly psychologically complex reading of a lesbian relationship. Rule, who passed away in 2007, should really be heralded as one of the key lesbian writers who paved the way for and began what we currently call queer women’s literature.
Evelyn and Ann are the two lovers at the centre of the story, but that is much too simple a description of their relationship...
See the rest of my review at my website: http://caseythecanadianlesbrarian.wor...
Evelyn and Ann are the two lovers at the centre of the story, but that is much too simple a description of their relationship...
See the rest of my review at my website: http://caseythecanadianlesbrarian.wor...
December 1, 2007
It is a remarkable, perfect little book. It says what it has to say, in the first paragraph, and it ends just as it should.
"Conventions, like cliches, have a way of surviving their own usefulness. They are then defended or excused as the idioms of living." This is a book about the conventions we accept as the medium of our lives, most of us without questioning their real value to us. For some people, this makes life an absurdity devoid of meaning. People are born, grow up, go to school, get married, get jobs, raise children, and die. This book examines the absurdity of this idiom for some people. The convention of marriage, for homosexual people, is absurd. The cliche of fidelity and forsaking all others, for some, is meaningless, a promise impossible for humans to keep.
The story involves a woman who lived within these conventions all her life, even while feeling emotionally detached, outside them, as if she were speaking a foreign language. She meets another woman who has spent her life deliberately, consciously, living outside these conventions, even though studying them and the effects of trying to live within their boundaries. When these two women begin a relationship, one in defiance of those idioms of Iife, one accepting that their relationship may just be a visit outside the lines for her partner, the tension comes when each must acknowledge that what she thought about Iiving inside and outside those boundaries may not be true.
For Evelyn Hall, respectable college professor, stepping outside the conventions of her life forces her to examine them and question what she never before doubted, that women are supposed to marry, have children, and that she has failed because she played poorly at this game. She is forced to examine the basis for her assumptions about morality and love.
Ann Childs is forced to explore whether the cliches about love, the ones she has defied and dismissed all her life, might not hold some truth. If she accepts that she does love Evelyn, does that mean then that she must accept the other cliches about love that she has denied, that some of them might indeed be real and achievable, like fidelity, like "forsaking all others?"
There is an argument posed in the book about whether the human will or its nature influences us to choose or deny love. Is it our nature to marry men, bear children, and is it unnatural to seek love outside those accepted parameters? Is it our will, our intellect, that allows us to explore love outside the accepted convention of heterosexuality? Is it the will that bends us into the conventions of life, subduing our nature, which seeks out love wherever it may? Are those established conventions, old and worn, there to protect us from our nature or to bend our will away from our natural inclinations? If, in admitting and accepting her love for Ann, Evelyn is responding to her own nature, long denied, what does that say about the foundations on which her life was lived?
This book is so well put together that I could not remove one line, one sentence, without unbalancing the whole. The movie that was based upon this book left out a great deal and added elements that are not there. It is set in the early 1960's, and does a fine job of conveying the flavor of that period with the music and the fashions and the automobiles. Instead of portraying Ann Childs as an intellectual, she is shown as rebellious, wild, promiscuous, and unaware of herself until she falls in love with Evelyn. Evelyn is shown as reserved and appalled at Ann's wildness, shocked, until she gives in to her own inner nature and makes love with Ann. And the movie does hold true to the theme of accepting love in whatever form you find it, for its own sake. I find almost none of the original, beautiful lines from the book in the dialogue of the movie.
Jane Rule is a remarkable writer. If my own writing has been influenced by hers, consciously or unconsciously, I could find no other guide.
"Conventions, like cliches, have a way of surviving their own usefulness. They are then defended or excused as the idioms of living." This is a book about the conventions we accept as the medium of our lives, most of us without questioning their real value to us. For some people, this makes life an absurdity devoid of meaning. People are born, grow up, go to school, get married, get jobs, raise children, and die. This book examines the absurdity of this idiom for some people. The convention of marriage, for homosexual people, is absurd. The cliche of fidelity and forsaking all others, for some, is meaningless, a promise impossible for humans to keep.
The story involves a woman who lived within these conventions all her life, even while feeling emotionally detached, outside them, as if she were speaking a foreign language. She meets another woman who has spent her life deliberately, consciously, living outside these conventions, even though studying them and the effects of trying to live within their boundaries. When these two women begin a relationship, one in defiance of those idioms of Iife, one accepting that their relationship may just be a visit outside the lines for her partner, the tension comes when each must acknowledge that what she thought about Iiving inside and outside those boundaries may not be true.
For Evelyn Hall, respectable college professor, stepping outside the conventions of her life forces her to examine them and question what she never before doubted, that women are supposed to marry, have children, and that she has failed because she played poorly at this game. She is forced to examine the basis for her assumptions about morality and love.
Ann Childs is forced to explore whether the cliches about love, the ones she has defied and dismissed all her life, might not hold some truth. If she accepts that she does love Evelyn, does that mean then that she must accept the other cliches about love that she has denied, that some of them might indeed be real and achievable, like fidelity, like "forsaking all others?"
There is an argument posed in the book about whether the human will or its nature influences us to choose or deny love. Is it our nature to marry men, bear children, and is it unnatural to seek love outside those accepted parameters? Is it our will, our intellect, that allows us to explore love outside the accepted convention of heterosexuality? Is it the will that bends us into the conventions of life, subduing our nature, which seeks out love wherever it may? Are those established conventions, old and worn, there to protect us from our nature or to bend our will away from our natural inclinations? If, in admitting and accepting her love for Ann, Evelyn is responding to her own nature, long denied, what does that say about the foundations on which her life was lived?
This book is so well put together that I could not remove one line, one sentence, without unbalancing the whole. The movie that was based upon this book left out a great deal and added elements that are not there. It is set in the early 1960's, and does a fine job of conveying the flavor of that period with the music and the fashions and the automobiles. Instead of portraying Ann Childs as an intellectual, she is shown as rebellious, wild, promiscuous, and unaware of herself until she falls in love with Evelyn. Evelyn is shown as reserved and appalled at Ann's wildness, shocked, until she gives in to her own inner nature and makes love with Ann. And the movie does hold true to the theme of accepting love in whatever form you find it, for its own sake. I find almost none of the original, beautiful lines from the book in the dialogue of the movie.
Jane Rule is a remarkable writer. If my own writing has been influenced by hers, consciously or unconsciously, I could find no other guide.
October 11, 2023
I watched the movie “Desert Hearts”, a sapphic classic, many years ago, before I even knew that this book exists. After hearing of it and learning that its author (1931-2007) was in fact a lesbian icon and LGBT+ activist, I just had to read it.
Since the film is a love story, I expected the novel to be a romance novel, too.
And it is, of course: It tells the story of the relation between Evelyn, an aloof professor, and Ann, a younger, freedom-loving change operator and cartoonist, who meet in Reno, Nevada, in 1959, when Evelyn wants to get divorced from her husband. The two women, who are fifteen years apart in age and quite different, slowly get to know each other and start to fall in love with each other.
But there’s more.
The very first paragraph of the novel already deals with observations about conventions and gender roles, and there are many more of contemplations like these, as the plot develops. Jane Rule has spent much time on the inner feelings and thoughts of her two central characters anyway, and there are a lot of them, because the book is also a story of self-discovery.
(I for my part had a problem with the “incestuous” mommy issues, in other words, the fact that both MCs, who have the hots for each other, want to see the other woman as a substitute for her dead mother (Ann, who has the telling last name Childs) or the daughter she’s never had (Evelyn) …)
Both women are complex, complicated and cultured characters (oh, I love these alliterations! 😃) and the things they ponder on are mostly very philosophical considerations, often about sociopolitical structures, sometimes even about religion.
They also talk about literally everything under the sun and have a lot of fundamental debates on principles, especially concerning love, relationships and personal freedom, and there are amazingly many quotations by philosophers from ancient Greece (and others) in the process.
All this is somewhat unusual for a romance novel, and even though it’s not uninteresting, it makes the story extremely intellectual and even a little inaccessible sometimes.
That’s why this book is rather suitable for brooders than for readers who prefer their romances with some more meat on the bones and explicit love scenes.
And unfortunately, the German translation, which I read, is anything but good.
3.5 Stars.
Since the film is a love story, I expected the novel to be a romance novel, too.
And it is, of course: It tells the story of the relation between Evelyn, an aloof professor, and Ann, a younger, freedom-loving change operator and cartoonist, who meet in Reno, Nevada, in 1959, when Evelyn wants to get divorced from her husband. The two women, who are fifteen years apart in age and quite different, slowly get to know each other and start to fall in love with each other.
But there’s more.
The very first paragraph of the novel already deals with observations about conventions and gender roles, and there are many more of contemplations like these, as the plot develops. Jane Rule has spent much time on the inner feelings and thoughts of her two central characters anyway, and there are a lot of them, because the book is also a story of self-discovery.
(I for my part had a problem with the “incestuous” mommy issues, in other words, the fact that both MCs, who have the hots for each other, want to see the other woman as a substitute for her dead mother (Ann, who has the telling last name Childs) or the daughter she’s never had (Evelyn) …)
Both women are complex, complicated and cultured characters (oh, I love these alliterations! 😃) and the things they ponder on are mostly very philosophical considerations, often about sociopolitical structures, sometimes even about religion.
They also talk about literally everything under the sun and have a lot of fundamental debates on principles, especially concerning love, relationships and personal freedom, and there are amazingly many quotations by philosophers from ancient Greece (and others) in the process.
All this is somewhat unusual for a romance novel, and even though it’s not uninteresting, it makes the story extremely intellectual and even a little inaccessible sometimes.
That’s why this book is rather suitable for brooders than for readers who prefer their romances with some more meat on the bones and explicit love scenes.
And unfortunately, the German translation, which I read, is anything but good.
3.5 Stars.
September 9, 2017
Desert of the Heart is a groundbreaking novel in the context of lesbian literature. Written in 1961 and eventually published in 1964, albeit after significant changes, this novel marked Jane Rule out as a visionary and a spokesperson for a generation of lesbians, daring to defy the idea that marriage is a ticket to normality. Desert of the Hearts is a wise and witty novel that in essence tells the story of English professor, Dr Evelyn Hall, and her desire to be free of the confines of a marriage and live as an independent woman. Set in the 1950s, the story opens with Mrs Evelyn Hall taking a flight from her home in California to the ‘divorce capital’ of Reno, Nevada. She touches down in the swelteringly desert ahead of finalising her divorce with a six-week residency requirement at the boarding house of Mrs Frances Packer ahead of her. Marriage for Evelyn is an “ill-fitting uniform” and she has a rather matter of fact attitude to her incompatibility with her husband of sixteen-years, George, with her marriage proving more “difficult than her PhD to both achieve and maintain”. In debt, unemployed and having given up the facade of working on his thesis, Evelyn financially keeps George, and they have not seen in public together for over five-years. Much of the early story is an internal monologue from Evelyn and battle with her own inhibitions and the opening lines of the novel set a provocative tone:
Rule makes much of the casino workplace of Ann, with the occasionally crude burlesque beauty, Silver, her closet ally. It is Silver who first broaches the idea of lesbianism openly and her tongue-in-cheek advice to Ann to “just relax and enjoy her” when she is assigned a trainee to supervise and her veiled references to Evelyn as a “mother figure of the moment” are the most unequivocal references. Boss at the casino, Bill, is awkward in the company of Ann, a woman whom he loved but who felt unable to make or share a life with him and her rejection has left him smarting. Having engaged with both Bill and Silver on occasions, is it Ann that is more comfortable with her own sexuality to the significantly older Evelyn. However, Desert of the Heart does not speak explicitly of lesbianism. Despite Evelyn’s description of a close friendship with her wartime neighbour, Carol, she appears to have never actively considered the idea of her sexuality, if anything she is more inclined to refer to the concept of “latent homosexuality”. Evelyn’s idea of womanhood is tied to the idea of reproduction and there is some implication that Evelyn subscribes to the theory that every woman longs for her own child. Initially awkward and reluctant to confront their feelings, Rule paints the first overtures as the rather less than wholesome Evelyn’s longing for a child, finding a ready made replacement in Ann, and Ann’s desire for a mother figure. I suspect these aspects were required to dilute the idea that lesbian love could ever be an accepted choice as opposed to a situation that has been enforced by problems specific to an individuals psyche, but these aspects do belittle the power of the story.
Evelyn’s first visit to lawyer, Arthur Williams, is surprisingly short and with only one further meeting necessary before the court date she is shocked by the simplicity of gaining a divorce. Evelyn is truthful and states her and George’s incompatibility but Mr Williams bombards her with questions pertaining to mental cruelty, medical ailments or George having embarrassed her in public but Evelyn acknowledges that, if anything, it is George that has suffered the most in a union that has left him feeling inadequate and undermined. As the end of Evelyn’s six weeks draws closer, both Evelyn and Ann find themselves forced to contemplating everything from fidelity and the vows of marriage. Things come to a head when Ann’s jilted ex, Bill, threatens to intervene and cause disruption to both women’s lives.
Rule poses the question of whether Ann would ever leave her desert home and the importance of Evelyn’s academic career to her sense of self. It is the mostly unspoken and evolving attraction between the two woman that is the focus of Desert of the Heart, but Rule also takes time to ruminate of the isolation of the desert and the strange mix of people that populate and pass through Reno. Reading the novel in 2017 highlights how dated and irrelevant many of the preoccupations are, but it also highlights the necessary discretion between same sex couples that was a requirement of the 1950s era.
“Conventions, like cliches, have a way of surviving their own usefulness. They are then excused or defended as the idioms of living. For everyone, foreign by birth or by nature, convention is a mark of fluency. That is why, for any woman, marriage is the idiom of life.”It is at the boarding house of matronly Frances Packer and her impish and high-spirited son, Walter, that Evelyn meets the striking Ann Childs, a quick-witted, perceptive and confident woman fifteen-years her junior. It is their uncanny resemblance to each other that breaks the ice, and this can perhaps be interpreted as a subtle reference to their future shared persuasions. In a ten-gallon hat and rodeo trousers, the first fleeting meeting of the pair sees Ann on route to her night- shift employment, working as a ‘change apron’ in thriving casino, Frank’s Club. Intrigued by Ann’s place within this house it takes time for Evelyn to discover her circumstances, with Frances enlightening her on the death of Ann’s lawyer father, leaving her alone in the world and with Frances acting as a watchful guardian. Ann’s bedroom, lined with bookshelves, offers a home from home to Evelyn, and as she waits for Ann to return from her work, she immerses herself in Ann’s private thoughts. It is on one of these nights that Ann first shows her drawings and cartoons to Evelyn, before opening her heart and sharing her private sketchbook, ‘Eve’s Apple’. The connection between the two in instant and the fascination mutual, despite their very different paths in life, however the often philosophical discussions about their circumstances show that Ann is every bit as intelligent as Evelyn.
Rule makes much of the casino workplace of Ann, with the occasionally crude burlesque beauty, Silver, her closet ally. It is Silver who first broaches the idea of lesbianism openly and her tongue-in-cheek advice to Ann to “just relax and enjoy her” when she is assigned a trainee to supervise and her veiled references to Evelyn as a “mother figure of the moment” are the most unequivocal references. Boss at the casino, Bill, is awkward in the company of Ann, a woman whom he loved but who felt unable to make or share a life with him and her rejection has left him smarting. Having engaged with both Bill and Silver on occasions, is it Ann that is more comfortable with her own sexuality to the significantly older Evelyn. However, Desert of the Heart does not speak explicitly of lesbianism. Despite Evelyn’s description of a close friendship with her wartime neighbour, Carol, she appears to have never actively considered the idea of her sexuality, if anything she is more inclined to refer to the concept of “latent homosexuality”. Evelyn’s idea of womanhood is tied to the idea of reproduction and there is some implication that Evelyn subscribes to the theory that every woman longs for her own child. Initially awkward and reluctant to confront their feelings, Rule paints the first overtures as the rather less than wholesome Evelyn’s longing for a child, finding a ready made replacement in Ann, and Ann’s desire for a mother figure. I suspect these aspects were required to dilute the idea that lesbian love could ever be an accepted choice as opposed to a situation that has been enforced by problems specific to an individuals psyche, but these aspects do belittle the power of the story.
Evelyn’s first visit to lawyer, Arthur Williams, is surprisingly short and with only one further meeting necessary before the court date she is shocked by the simplicity of gaining a divorce. Evelyn is truthful and states her and George’s incompatibility but Mr Williams bombards her with questions pertaining to mental cruelty, medical ailments or George having embarrassed her in public but Evelyn acknowledges that, if anything, it is George that has suffered the most in a union that has left him feeling inadequate and undermined. As the end of Evelyn’s six weeks draws closer, both Evelyn and Ann find themselves forced to contemplating everything from fidelity and the vows of marriage. Things come to a head when Ann’s jilted ex, Bill, threatens to intervene and cause disruption to both women’s lives.
Rule poses the question of whether Ann would ever leave her desert home and the importance of Evelyn’s academic career to her sense of self. It is the mostly unspoken and evolving attraction between the two woman that is the focus of Desert of the Heart, but Rule also takes time to ruminate of the isolation of the desert and the strange mix of people that populate and pass through Reno. Reading the novel in 2017 highlights how dated and irrelevant many of the preoccupations are, but it also highlights the necessary discretion between same sex couples that was a requirement of the 1950s era.
March 17, 2017
If you have seen the film Desert Hearts, on which the book is based, and have it mind to read the book, know that there are quite a few differences. Where Roger Ebert took points off on the movie for its simplicity, the book offers a more complex character study of Evelyn Hall (called Vivian in the film). It's been years since I saw film and I remember the basic plot, the core of which stays true to the book. Evelyn comes to Reno in the 1950s for a brief residency in order to satisfy requirements for a quick divorce. Her existence there is quiet and frustrating due to limited resources for intellectual stimulation. She maintains cordial relationships with her landlady and his son, but finds something deeper with Ann Childs, a young woman of means who works at the local casino, ostensibly for something to do.
The concept of time is a major theme in this story - Evelyn as a temporary resident, the time running out for her unsuccessful marriage, and Ann's tendency to cut romantic relationships short. While the movie implies their romance progressed with some reluctance on Evelyn's part, the book shows the woman better equipped to handle their feelings for the other. The literary style of the narrative gives great depth to the people in this story, and Rule creates a vivid and timeless sense of place. Many people here have remarked that they couldn't believe this book was originally written in 1964. Nearly fifty years later, the story remains fresh.
The concept of time is a major theme in this story - Evelyn as a temporary resident, the time running out for her unsuccessful marriage, and Ann's tendency to cut romantic relationships short. While the movie implies their romance progressed with some reluctance on Evelyn's part, the book shows the woman better equipped to handle their feelings for the other. The literary style of the narrative gives great depth to the people in this story, and Rule creates a vivid and timeless sense of place. Many people here have remarked that they couldn't believe this book was originally written in 1964. Nearly fifty years later, the story remains fresh.
May 20, 2017
I read this on a train ride out west; my first time visiting the desert. Perhaps the vast Nevada landscape of this book is a world apart from the rocky deserts of Colorado and Utah (my destinations). But to a New Englander, they are just alike, and I loved reading Desert of the Heart while experiencing a sense of its setting firsthand.
I saw the film adaptation, Desert Hearts, several years ago. My memory of it is pretty foggy, but what lingers is the sense of place. The endless empty sky and sand are intimidating to protagonist Evelyn, and a comfort to her love interest, the younger Ann. And despite the timelessness of the desert, the semi-oppressive early 1960s setting stands out, too.
Ann is a little bit lost, but confident in her intention "to love the whole damned world." This sentiment is something that Evelyn, recovering from a mutually destructive hetero relationship, cannot share.
Everyone in this book is a bit damaged and sad. That's a given; shocking things happen to side characters, but not for shock value. It's just the brutality of life; more things to be survived.
In keeping with the setting, the writing is a bit dry. The characters talk to themselves a lot, and there are pages and pages of interior monologue. But it didn't bother me; this is an introspective story, so the musings make sense.
I was surprised by how very romantic this book is. I don't remember rooting for the characters in the movie, but the book versions of Evelyn and Ann seeped into me. In spite of the disapproval of suspecting acquaintances, and in the midst of that sweaty desert heat, they come alive. And I can't see them anywhere else but in that empty desert, together.
I saw the film adaptation, Desert Hearts, several years ago. My memory of it is pretty foggy, but what lingers is the sense of place. The endless empty sky and sand are intimidating to protagonist Evelyn, and a comfort to her love interest, the younger Ann. And despite the timelessness of the desert, the semi-oppressive early 1960s setting stands out, too.
Ann is a little bit lost, but confident in her intention "to love the whole damned world." This sentiment is something that Evelyn, recovering from a mutually destructive hetero relationship, cannot share.
"I live in the desert of the heart," Evelyn said quietly. "I can't love the whole damned world."
Everyone in this book is a bit damaged and sad. That's a given; shocking things happen to side characters, but not for shock value. It's just the brutality of life; more things to be survived.
In keeping with the setting, the writing is a bit dry. The characters talk to themselves a lot, and there are pages and pages of interior monologue. But it didn't bother me; this is an introspective story, so the musings make sense.
I was surprised by how very romantic this book is. I don't remember rooting for the characters in the movie, but the book versions of Evelyn and Ann seeped into me. In spite of the disapproval of suspecting acquaintances, and in the midst of that sweaty desert heat, they come alive. And I can't see them anywhere else but in that empty desert, together.
"I sometimes think I can forecast the weather in your eyes," Evelyn said.
"What's your prediction?"
"Hot and clear."
July 14, 2024
This is my third or fourth reading of Desert of the Heart. I came upon it via the movie Desert Hearts, but the book is so different from the movie. Ms Rule discusses the relationship between Evelyn and Ann, as it develops from the point of view of both women and their own reactions to the wonder of their relationship, the meaning of love, the meaning of identity and the sin or rationalisation of sin in Reno.
I’m glad I suddenly had a craving, right out of the blue, to read this book again. I was able to dive right in and recalled the arc of the story, although only in a very loose sense. I’m sure I’ll continue to return to this book as I age. It’s my favourite lesbian story of all time. Which reflects where I was in my own journey when I first saw the movie and then discovered the book. I fell in love with these characters for simply having the courage to exist in the world at the time. It’s nice to know that my love story endures.
I’m glad I suddenly had a craving, right out of the blue, to read this book again. I was able to dive right in and recalled the arc of the story, although only in a very loose sense. I’m sure I’ll continue to return to this book as I age. It’s my favourite lesbian story of all time. Which reflects where I was in my own journey when I first saw the movie and then discovered the book. I fell in love with these characters for simply having the courage to exist in the world at the time. It’s nice to know that my love story endures.
August 10, 2024
This gem has been on my TBR shelves for a couple of years. I bought the book because of the movie Desert Hearts. This is a beautiful, complex, age gap, opposites attract love story.
Evelyn is in Reno to establish residency for 6 weeks in order to get a quicky divorce. While at the boarding house she meets and falls in love with Ann. Ann is the "stepdaughter " to Francis the owner of the boarding house. Ann is a free spirit compared to English professor Evelyn.
This goes deep into the psyche of both women. It's a deep read. A FAVORITE ! And a classic! Should be more than 5 stars!
Evelyn is in Reno to establish residency for 6 weeks in order to get a quicky divorce. While at the boarding house she meets and falls in love with Ann. Ann is the "stepdaughter " to Francis the owner of the boarding house. Ann is a free spirit compared to English professor Evelyn.
This goes deep into the psyche of both women. It's a deep read. A FAVORITE ! And a classic! Should be more than 5 stars!
February 6, 2014
This book reminds me a lot of a typical Woody Allen movie. There is so much talking going on (which is hard to follow sometimes). It's an okay story but it seems a little outdated sometimes. The characters are a little too complex and one-sided for my taste. It's well written but still there was no spark
May 6, 2012
I'd seen the movie, "Desert Hearts," but never got around to reading the book that was the basis for the movie. Though written in 1963, it has a 1950's feel to the story. It's kind of odd today to read characters so casually consuming large amounts of alcohol and the cavalier attitude toward smoking. But, that aside, it's an interesting picture of an older woman coming out (though not in the same sense we think of today) and falling in love with a younger woman.
It's somewhat dry with none of the overt passion one might expect from the description. The relationship appears almost without any time passing at all. I guess the "U-Haul" stereotype was true even back then.
It's an interesting book but not a great one. Worth reading though.
It's somewhat dry with none of the overt passion one might expect from the description. The relationship appears almost without any time passing at all. I guess the "U-Haul" stereotype was true even back then.
It's an interesting book but not a great one. Worth reading though.
November 26, 2019
This is difficult.
On the one hand I acknowledge that Desert of the Heart was an important book in its time. On the other hand, it doesn't stand the test of time too well. Why? I'm so happy you asked.
The story is that Dr. Evelyn Hall has traveled from her home in California to Reno so that she can get a divorce from her husband. DotH is set back in the days when you still had to have a reason for divorce *shudder*. For the purposes of this review, the reasons Hall wants a divorce are mostly irrelevant but I'm not at all implying that her reasons were irrelevant. To successfully sue for divorce Hall has to spend 6 weeks away from 'the family home' and she needs a witness who can attest to her being away from the family home for the entire 6 weeks. At her divorce lawyers suggestion she takes up her 6 week residency at a boarding house. And while there Hall falls in love with Ann.
Published in 1964, Desert of the Heart is one of the few books of the time that wasn't lesbian pulp fiction, that is, trashy stories with poor understanding of what a lesbian is (but still a rollicking fun read). It is intelligent, honest, and realistic. Desert explores the lives of its characters and the complexities of relationships, marriage, and love. The biggest winner for me was the analysis of how people are pushed into social expectations of gender and sexuality.
I can really see how DotH was groundbreaking. It probably freed a lot of women who had been betrayed by social expectations, or at least made them feel less alone. I especially appreciate that DotH shows lesbianism as something other than two women fucking. Yet, as at 2019, things have changed quite dramatically for many people and DotH isn't very relevant anymore except for as an historical document.
Just some of the things I hated and that overrode the good stuff:
Depictions of sexuality as something one simply decides or chooses - There is definitely lesbianism in DotH, and there are also bisexuals. I felt that the fact that Ann and her friend Silver both happily engage in sex with men and women meant that the 'lesbianness' was overrated. Indeed, of all the reasons Hall has for divorce sexual incompatibility does not seem to be among them. Not that I'd expect Hall to be open about that with the courts but perhaps in the narrative it would have come up.
Silver, Ann's friend-with-benefits, is a very independent and self-reliant woman. She is confident and self-assured - the very model of a 'modern' liberal woman. Silver reasons that she wants to marry her boyfriend because she wants matching Mr & Mrs towels for the bathroom. It seems like a sardonic comment, a sneering statement on social expectation, until you consider that she is actually going ahead with the marriage. Silver is written as one of those pushy, overbearing, patronising, and stereotypical 'you know you want to sleep with me' lesbians(?) Silver makes unwarranted and crude sexual innuendos at the drop of a hat - that felt quite pulpy. While I liked Silver, I didn't feel that her's was a character that portrays liberal sexuality, but maybe in 1964 that's exactly what she was.
Who the fuck is Carol? Carol is first mentioned in passing on page 17. Next Carol is mentioned on page 106. I spent 10 minutes going back through the book trying to find where I'd missed the explanation of who exactly this mystery woman is. On page 108 we find out Carol was Halls neighbour in Cali. Usually books name a person at the same time that they tell us who that person is. This was confusing as all get out.
Carol and Hall spent a lot of time together while their husbands were off at war. One night while Carol is terribly upset she curls up in Halls lap and ... basically ... turns into a baby ... including the bit with boobs. There's a lot of really weird lesbian=perverse mother/child relationships in DoTH. I hate this intensely. It's so weird and so wrong. Don't get me wrong, I love boobs but I don't want to curl up crying in some lady's lap and suck her boobs like a baby. The fact that for such a long time psychology so liked to conflate homosexuality with parenting and sexual desire for a parent makes it even worse when actual homosexual people write about and thereby reinforce that belief.
Speaking of psychology damaging homosexual people - at one point Hall is reviewing? questioning? reflecting on? her identity. In her thoughts she considers her left-handedness. Not a fan. Left-handed people were pretty much tagged as unnatural for the longest time. I'm pretty sure people knew this in 1964, so I don't understand why anyone would write what had been such a damaging stereotype into their book. At the very least could the narrative not dedicate a little space to explore those things.
I couldn't tell if lines like "If you want a woman, have a woman, but remember you’re a woman. You need some man-handling and “I wonder why I’ve never bought you anything before [...] I used to like to dress my women as well as undress them" were serious. But they're seriously uncomfortable with no exposition.
“Don’t turn on the light.” Why you fucking in the dark? The best bit of sexinating is seeing your partner. I felt like statements like 'don't turn on the light' were eluding to some kind of internalised shame at the act they were committing but perhaps it was merely that they didn't want anyone to see the light on and think them awake. And I think that brings me to my point...
It was really bold to write a book where women felt free to explore themselves, but at the same time there is a lack of explanation. Why did the book repeatedly go on and on and on and on and on about how Hall and Ann looked just like mother and daughter, and had mother/daughter feelings for one another. Was that an honest feeling they had or was it meant to be a comment on how they were so unfamiliar with and unable to place these new and alien feelings because: society. If it were in reference to the latter why make such a thing of it in the narrative without exploring it more fully. If it were in reference to the former: yuck.
If this were a 2019 release I'd give it zero stars. If we were living in early 1960, I would give it infinite stars. So, I'm giving it 3 because it was important and remains important as something to look back on and be happy that we don't live there any longer.
My Rating: 3 bitter and petty ex-boyfriends out of 5
On the one hand I acknowledge that Desert of the Heart was an important book in its time. On the other hand, it doesn't stand the test of time too well. Why? I'm so happy you asked.
The story is that Dr. Evelyn Hall has traveled from her home in California to Reno so that she can get a divorce from her husband. DotH is set back in the days when you still had to have a reason for divorce *shudder*. For the purposes of this review, the reasons Hall wants a divorce are mostly irrelevant but I'm not at all implying that her reasons were irrelevant. To successfully sue for divorce Hall has to spend 6 weeks away from 'the family home' and she needs a witness who can attest to her being away from the family home for the entire 6 weeks. At her divorce lawyers suggestion she takes up her 6 week residency at a boarding house. And while there Hall falls in love with Ann.
Published in 1964, Desert of the Heart is one of the few books of the time that wasn't lesbian pulp fiction, that is, trashy stories with poor understanding of what a lesbian is (but still a rollicking fun read). It is intelligent, honest, and realistic. Desert explores the lives of its characters and the complexities of relationships, marriage, and love. The biggest winner for me was the analysis of how people are pushed into social expectations of gender and sexuality.
I can really see how DotH was groundbreaking. It probably freed a lot of women who had been betrayed by social expectations, or at least made them feel less alone. I especially appreciate that DotH shows lesbianism as something other than two women fucking. Yet, as at 2019, things have changed quite dramatically for many people and DotH isn't very relevant anymore except for as an historical document.
Just some of the things I hated and that overrode the good stuff:
Depictions of sexuality as something one simply decides or chooses - There is definitely lesbianism in DotH, and there are also bisexuals. I felt that the fact that Ann and her friend Silver both happily engage in sex with men and women meant that the 'lesbianness' was overrated. Indeed, of all the reasons Hall has for divorce sexual incompatibility does not seem to be among them. Not that I'd expect Hall to be open about that with the courts but perhaps in the narrative it would have come up.
Silver, Ann's friend-with-benefits, is a very independent and self-reliant woman. She is confident and self-assured - the very model of a 'modern' liberal woman. Silver reasons that she wants to marry her boyfriend because she wants matching Mr & Mrs towels for the bathroom. It seems like a sardonic comment, a sneering statement on social expectation, until you consider that she is actually going ahead with the marriage. Silver is written as one of those pushy, overbearing, patronising, and stereotypical 'you know you want to sleep with me' lesbians(?) Silver makes unwarranted and crude sexual innuendos at the drop of a hat - that felt quite pulpy. While I liked Silver, I didn't feel that her's was a character that portrays liberal sexuality, but maybe in 1964 that's exactly what she was.
Who the fuck is Carol? Carol is first mentioned in passing on page 17. Next Carol is mentioned on page 106. I spent 10 minutes going back through the book trying to find where I'd missed the explanation of who exactly this mystery woman is. On page 108 we find out Carol was Halls neighbour in Cali. Usually books name a person at the same time that they tell us who that person is. This was confusing as all get out.
Carol and Hall spent a lot of time together while their husbands were off at war. One night while Carol is terribly upset she curls up in Halls lap and ... basically ... turns into a baby ... including the bit with boobs. There's a lot of really weird lesbian=perverse mother/child relationships in DoTH. I hate this intensely. It's so weird and so wrong. Don't get me wrong, I love boobs but I don't want to curl up crying in some lady's lap and suck her boobs like a baby. The fact that for such a long time psychology so liked to conflate homosexuality with parenting and sexual desire for a parent makes it even worse when actual homosexual people write about and thereby reinforce that belief.
Speaking of psychology damaging homosexual people - at one point Hall is reviewing? questioning? reflecting on? her identity. In her thoughts she considers her left-handedness. Not a fan. Left-handed people were pretty much tagged as unnatural for the longest time. I'm pretty sure people knew this in 1964, so I don't understand why anyone would write what had been such a damaging stereotype into their book. At the very least could the narrative not dedicate a little space to explore those things.
I couldn't tell if lines like "If you want a woman, have a woman, but remember you’re a woman. You need some man-handling and “I wonder why I’ve never bought you anything before [...] I used to like to dress my women as well as undress them" were serious. But they're seriously uncomfortable with no exposition.
“Don’t turn on the light.” Why you fucking in the dark? The best bit of sexinating is seeing your partner. I felt like statements like 'don't turn on the light' were eluding to some kind of internalised shame at the act they were committing but perhaps it was merely that they didn't want anyone to see the light on and think them awake. And I think that brings me to my point...
It was really bold to write a book where women felt free to explore themselves, but at the same time there is a lack of explanation. Why did the book repeatedly go on and on and on and on and on about how Hall and Ann looked just like mother and daughter, and had mother/daughter feelings for one another. Was that an honest feeling they had or was it meant to be a comment on how they were so unfamiliar with and unable to place these new and alien feelings because: society. If it were in reference to the latter why make such a thing of it in the narrative without exploring it more fully. If it were in reference to the former: yuck.
If this were a 2019 release I'd give it zero stars. If we were living in early 1960, I would give it infinite stars. So, I'm giving it 3 because it was important and remains important as something to look back on and be happy that we don't live there any longer.
My Rating: 3 bitter and petty ex-boyfriends out of 5
February 16, 2011
Evelyn Hall is an English professor from California who is looking for a quick divorce so that's why she goes to Reno for a while, so she lives in the same house as Ann Childs, who is 25 and strikingly resembles Evelyn, who works evenings at a casino in Reno, and draws cartoons for magazines like the New Yorker. This older-younger literary-type relationship kept making me think of Anne and Flannery from Sylvia Brownrigg's Pages For You, which was a more exciting experience to read, I feel.
The novel spends a lot of time thinking of marriage and children in a somewhat irritating way. Evelyn is unhappy with her marriage to a weak-willed man, and sad a bit that she doesn't have children of her own. Ann has some kind of complex about sleeping with women to rid herself of the mother she never quite knew. They both perceive each other in partly a mother-daughter way, partly a lover-lover way, and the build-up of this was not satisfying. Silver—Ann's friend/sometimes-lover—has been sleeping with women but ultimately decides to marry a man. Whatever.
Deserts, casinos, mentioning Ann as a cartoonist and Evelyn as a professor but hardly going into details about their jobs/interests, and I was cringing near the end when Evelyn became attached and jealous around Ann, like following her to her job [cringe]. Etc. It is an ok read, I guess.
The novel spends a lot of time thinking of marriage and children in a somewhat irritating way. Evelyn is unhappy with her marriage to a weak-willed man, and sad a bit that she doesn't have children of her own. Ann has some kind of complex about sleeping with women to rid herself of the mother she never quite knew. They both perceive each other in partly a mother-daughter way, partly a lover-lover way, and the build-up of this was not satisfying. Silver—Ann's friend/sometimes-lover—has been sleeping with women but ultimately decides to marry a man. Whatever.
Deserts, casinos, mentioning Ann as a cartoonist and Evelyn as a professor but hardly going into details about their jobs/interests, and I was cringing near the end when Evelyn became attached and jealous around Ann, like following her to her job [cringe]. Etc. It is an ok read, I guess.
July 31, 2023
4.5/5
It's Pride Month on my side of the globe, which over the years has transformed from brutally suppressed rebellion to rainbow capitalism, complete with slave labor dependent companies giving discounts labeled with 'yasss slaaaay' and war crime committing drones being painted various hues of the various commercially respectable flags in hopes to recruit those who are hunted for sport in their homeland for the purpose of them doing the same to others on an international scale. For me, my relationship with this fashionable cycle has been even more vague and disconnected due to my beginning a new job on the very start of June, which in some way has been beneficial, as I've simply been too occupied, and for the most part happily so, to bitterly dwell over the idea of LGBT youths throwing their queer elders out onto the street because their favorite corporation told them to. What I have had time for is to make note of older, more out of the way literature that was fulfilling the role of representation long before I was born, and this particular piece was fortunate enough to come my way and be published during a reading challenge-utilitarian year. Such a method of choosing my reads has always been hit or miss, but this proved to be a work that scratches an itch I hadn't even been aware of having until the resolution of it grew into full blown pleasure, one of those instances that makes my arduous book buying ways all the more worth it when seeing how there isn't a single public library copy of this to be had within sixty miles of me. It didn't prove a favorite of mine, but lord if it didn't come razor thin close.
It's Pride Month on my side of the globe, which over the years has transformed from brutally suppressed rebellion to rainbow capitalism, complete with slave labor dependent companies giving discounts labeled with 'yasss slaaaay' and war crime committing drones being painted various hues of the various commercially respectable flags in hopes to recruit those who are hunted for sport in their homeland for the purpose of them doing the same to others on an international scale. For me, my relationship with this fashionable cycle has been even more vague and disconnected due to my beginning a new job on the very start of June, which in some way has been beneficial, as I've simply been too occupied, and for the most part happily so, to bitterly dwell over the idea of LGBT youths throwing their queer elders out onto the street because their favorite corporation told them to. What I have had time for is to make note of older, more out of the way literature that was fulfilling the role of representation long before I was born, and this particular piece was fortunate enough to come my way and be published during a reading challenge-utilitarian year. Such a method of choosing my reads has always been hit or miss, but this proved to be a work that scratches an itch I hadn't even been aware of having until the resolution of it grew into full blown pleasure, one of those instances that makes my arduous book buying ways all the more worth it when seeing how there isn't a single public library copy of this to be had within sixty miles of me. It didn't prove a favorite of mine, but lord if it didn't come razor thin close.
She did not want Evelyn now as much as she wanted a world in which Evelyn was always possible.Starting this work was rather disjointing, as while it certainly embraces the studied blankness in tone and world building that certain breeds of US lit gravitate towards and that I tend to despise, the choosing of this is anything but lazy or noncommittal. For this is the sort of academic erotica/erotica academia that fatuous white dudes love to ape year in and year out, and while I'm sure the times of early 1960s USA exacerbated the author's tending towards measured thoughtfulness and near philosophical treatments of plot and character development, I personally adored this singular breed of queer slow burn. Part of this is due to instinctual personal preference reading wise, but there's also the matter of how much I ended up learning from the mediations the text delved into when it came to marriage, women-women relationships familial and otherwise, and what it really meant to engage in a mature, consensual, and life affirming relationship with a fellow adult and equate it with enabling corporate greed and other forms of guaranteeing onself eternal damnation. Various quibblings about the whiteness of it all kept me from awarding the full fathom five stars, but that doesn't prevent me from recommending this to any who are willing to take into account both the period and the place when it comes to their comprehension, for this is a piece that wears the history of its community on its sleeve, and what it has to say that goes against the happy/brainless/post same sex marriage (as if that solved anything at all) climate of today is much more complicated than screeds about political correctness, whether positive or negative, would have the public believe.
She was right to make fun of herself. But there was passion in this sparring, grieving, angry comic that had to find an acceptable disguise somewhere between sentimentality and brutality so that the world could decorously and sympathetically respond. She was just too truthful to make a success of it.If any of that above scared you off, you may be glad to know that this, despite what dictator puritans would have to believe, this particular piece of wlw lit actually has happy ending. Sure, it's not the clear cut/yellow brick road/wedding bells that I'm sure certain authors writing today pat themselves on the back for conforming to, but this doesn't stop the text from developing an intensely sensual and deeply credible queer relationship, even going so far as to handle themes of sex work, polysexuality, and negotiating erotic female relationships in an age where the only acceptable forms under patriarchy are quickly outgrown school friendships and tepid when they aren't vicarious/vengeful relationships between mother and daughter. I'll admit that the narrative was able to sidestep a great deal of what informs wlw relationships by making money a guarantee and education a birthright, among other able white woman isms, but the conclusions it drew from its more highfalutin thought experiments are still valuable in their own right, especially when one is lying awake at three in the morning and parsing out what exactly in a disaster capitalism society where queer bodies are accepted so long as they are willing to hunt other queer bodies for sport currently has its predatory hooks in one's gut. This book isn't going to teach you how to ask about someone's pronouns, let alone get past the whole socially encouraged obsessiveness with other folks' genitals, but it does showcase the carving out of love in a land that, to all appearances, is incapable of sustaining life. For us queers who are continuing such labors, a work such as this that embraces the future rather than caves into the cishet indoctrination of human sacrifice is a blessing and a gift, and if you truly want to be an ally, making an effort to understand that is a good place to start.
I don't want to be saved. I want you.
July 21, 2023
“Cliches were only a sin in literature. In life if they happen to be true there was no intellectual campaign that would defeat them.”
I did not expect to be confronted with a philosophical sapphic romance. If you’ve ever read The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde, Desert of the Heart was maybe just 50% less philosophical than Wilde’s novel. This story was so rich in its comparison and dissection of life, religion, morals, conventions, basically everything! What I was most impressed about was how the author rebooted my brain from hating a desert place into looking past the arid land and admiring humankind’s capabilities of transforming a dead end place (Reno, Nevada specifically) to a thriving microcosm independent of natural resources.
This book was quite cerebral which separates itself from other sapphic novels.
I did not expect to be confronted with a philosophical sapphic romance. If you’ve ever read The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde, Desert of the Heart was maybe just 50% less philosophical than Wilde’s novel. This story was so rich in its comparison and dissection of life, religion, morals, conventions, basically everything! What I was most impressed about was how the author rebooted my brain from hating a desert place into looking past the arid land and admiring humankind’s capabilities of transforming a dead end place (Reno, Nevada specifically) to a thriving microcosm independent of natural resources.
This book was quite cerebral which separates itself from other sapphic novels.
January 19, 2009
I didn't like that book one bit, it's terribly written with not one likeable character to support the story.
Rule does care little for her story and burdens it with unneeded symbolism and popular psychology to make what she has to say sound more important. Her main characters are painted in a realistic way but every single women in the book is shown as being possessed by an anti-social, self-destructive trait and in that massing up of psychological angst the book begins to sound just as phony as the forced way her characters use to talk to each other.
What amazed me is the open contempt, for women in general and married women in special, running through the book.
The whole message of the book sounds like "Women marry because they believe that to be what they have to do, and only the crazy ones like it"
Maybe it's the 50 years age gap, maybe it's a nationality thing, but her views on conventions are just as outdated as the convetions she's ranting about. In the end the book proved to be mostly a waste of time written by a woman that seemingly needed to vent her frustations and hatred for society and women that are contend to live within its confines.
It's a wonder how a book filled with such vile hatred towards the roles women (some willfully) play within society could bring out such a wonderful movie.
If 'Desert of the Hearts' truly is Jane Rules best book as the backcover claims, I can savely say that I don't like her.
Rule does care little for her story and burdens it with unneeded symbolism and popular psychology to make what she has to say sound more important. Her main characters are painted in a realistic way but every single women in the book is shown as being possessed by an anti-social, self-destructive trait and in that massing up of psychological angst the book begins to sound just as phony as the forced way her characters use to talk to each other.
What amazed me is the open contempt, for women in general and married women in special, running through the book.
The whole message of the book sounds like "Women marry because they believe that to be what they have to do, and only the crazy ones like it"
Maybe it's the 50 years age gap, maybe it's a nationality thing, but her views on conventions are just as outdated as the convetions she's ranting about. In the end the book proved to be mostly a waste of time written by a woman that seemingly needed to vent her frustations and hatred for society and women that are contend to live within its confines.
It's a wonder how a book filled with such vile hatred towards the roles women (some willfully) play within society could bring out such a wonderful movie.
If 'Desert of the Hearts' truly is Jane Rules best book as the backcover claims, I can savely say that I don't like her.
September 8, 2014
Extremely well-written lesbian romance set in 1960's Reno. One protagonist is a buttoned-up middle-aged college professor ending a disastrous long-time marriage. The other is a talented and tormented free spirit who spends her nights working as a change girl in a casino. Their connection develops delicately over time.
I particularly liked the casino scenes, which seemed very authentic, and I liked that all the secondary characters seemed like real people, with quirks and hidden stories of their own. Nobody seemed flat, cartoonish, or even dismissable.
This is a literary novel, with emphasis on perceptions, motivations, and choices rather than overt actions. Not much happens, and a lot happens.
I particularly liked the casino scenes, which seemed very authentic, and I liked that all the secondary characters seemed like real people, with quirks and hidden stories of their own. Nobody seemed flat, cartoonish, or even dismissable.
This is a literary novel, with emphasis on perceptions, motivations, and choices rather than overt actions. Not much happens, and a lot happens.
March 4, 2016
I enjoyed it. No doubt I would have enjoyed it far more had I been a pre-women's lib, pre-gay rights lesbian in 1964, when the book was published, though. It's remarkably timeless and free-spirited. Jane Rule must have saved numerous lives and minds with the publication of this book.
There's a verbose literary writing style that is at times entertaining and at times in the way of the story's progression. I didn't feel an affinity with the characters, but I did care what happened to them.
There's a verbose literary writing style that is at times entertaining and at times in the way of the story's progression. I didn't feel an affinity with the characters, but I did care what happened to them.
August 17, 2017
DESERT OF THE HEART is a heartfelt story that digs beneath the surface of the characters, showing warts and all.
July 19, 2021
4.5 stars
‘All intelligent women are latent homosexuals.’
‘All intelligent women are latent homosexuals.’
April 23, 2023
Seeking a speedy divorce, Evelyn travels to Reno, Nevada all the way from New York. As a withdrawn professor, Evelyn does not fit in with the culture of this casino town so tensions build. However something starts to happen… Evelyn goes gambling, she starts doing things she's never done, and even falls in love with a casino girl 10 years younger than her. How fun! Only this takes place in 1950s America, when being in a romantic relationship with a woman was not something you could do openly, free of judgment from others.
The set up of the novel has all the components to make it a classic person vs. society story. However, while the movie version got this down perfectly, making it my favorite LGTBQ movie of all time, the book is like a rough draft with a lot of noise in the plot. The movie, retitled Desert Hearts filters out the noise, leaving only the strongest elements. (The movie is online, here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aHEMP...)
The noise mostly comes in the form of unnecessary themes of morality and motherhood. These themes come on so strong that they cloud the true story, which is about self acceptance, transformation and rejecting society if it rejects you.
Underneath the noise there is a beautiful story. John Gardner said that there are only 2 kinds of plots: 1) A hero goes on a journey. 2) A stranger comes to town. This story is a story of a stranger who comes to town and shakes things up, not by being a trickster but by being morally upright in a place that doesn't welcome that!
Thematic Noise:
The implication that all women want children is forced into the plot at every turn but adds nothing. It's heavily suggested that Evelyn feels motherly feelings for Ann, but this plot point just doesn't fit the characters. Evelyn is only 10 years older than Ann (not enough to be her mother), and she is very timid and shy, inexperienced and uncertain, and it's Ann who leads her towards accepting her sexuality.
Ann is the experienced, assertive and sexually aware one. Ann seduces Evelyn, metaphorically holds her hand and reassures her that being together is ok (in the movie this is beautiful and tender). In the book, it clashes with the random motherhood theme. Somehow Evelyn is supposed to feel "motherly" just because she's a woman and slightly older. It doesn't fit the characters' personalities at all, rather it feels like it was tacked onto the plot to add false depth. This was (smartly) deleted from the movie.
Similarly, the morality themes were too much sometimes. Evelyn sees Reno as a kind of dirty, sinful place. Yet, here she is getting a divorce, gambling, and realizing she's a lesbian. She needs to grapple with her own ideas of morality, and I like the character development but at times there's just too much focus on her moral uprightness holding back the story.
These themes are an artifact of the time (this was published in 1964). Back then being a lesbian necessitated you think about your morals since in society's eye your identity was by default, immoral. Similarly, being a lesbian and a mother did not go together so I can see why the author was thinking about it. Back then it was "either/ or"- be a lesbian or be a mother. No adoption or sperm donation for lesbians back then. Luckily times have changed.
I love the tension and slow build between Evelyn and Ann. I love forbidden love stories because they always seem the most authentic, like the characters are together truly because they love each other and for no other reason. Not for status, not to gain connections or money, not to check off a life milestone. They choose to be with each other despite society's judgmental eyes.
The story fits well against the vastness of the Nevada desert, where anyone can feel anonymous. Anyone can slip off into the hills for privacy with her lesbian lover, surrounded only by miles of earthy hills and desert plants. No witnesses or observers. Just you and the endless expanse. The atmosphere of 1950s Reno is vivid and magical.
Despite some the mismatched themes, I got lost in the story and was driven to read it until the final page. I still prefer the movie version and recommend it to anyone who enjoyed this book. The movie is slow but worth it.
The set up of the novel has all the components to make it a classic person vs. society story. However, while the movie version got this down perfectly, making it my favorite LGTBQ movie of all time, the book is like a rough draft with a lot of noise in the plot. The movie, retitled Desert Hearts filters out the noise, leaving only the strongest elements. (The movie is online, here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aHEMP...)
The noise mostly comes in the form of unnecessary themes of morality and motherhood. These themes come on so strong that they cloud the true story, which is about self acceptance, transformation and rejecting society if it rejects you.
Underneath the noise there is a beautiful story. John Gardner said that there are only 2 kinds of plots: 1) A hero goes on a journey. 2) A stranger comes to town. This story is a story of a stranger who comes to town and shakes things up, not by being a trickster but by being morally upright in a place that doesn't welcome that!
Thematic Noise:
The implication that all women want children is forced into the plot at every turn but adds nothing. It's heavily suggested that Evelyn feels motherly feelings for Ann, but this plot point just doesn't fit the characters. Evelyn is only 10 years older than Ann (not enough to be her mother), and she is very timid and shy, inexperienced and uncertain, and it's Ann who leads her towards accepting her sexuality.
Ann is the experienced, assertive and sexually aware one. Ann seduces Evelyn, metaphorically holds her hand and reassures her that being together is ok (in the movie this is beautiful and tender). In the book, it clashes with the random motherhood theme. Somehow Evelyn is supposed to feel "motherly" just because she's a woman and slightly older. It doesn't fit the characters' personalities at all, rather it feels like it was tacked onto the plot to add false depth. This was (smartly) deleted from the movie.
Similarly, the morality themes were too much sometimes. Evelyn sees Reno as a kind of dirty, sinful place. Yet, here she is getting a divorce, gambling, and realizing she's a lesbian. She needs to grapple with her own ideas of morality, and I like the character development but at times there's just too much focus on her moral uprightness holding back the story.
These themes are an artifact of the time (this was published in 1964). Back then being a lesbian necessitated you think about your morals since in society's eye your identity was by default, immoral. Similarly, being a lesbian and a mother did not go together so I can see why the author was thinking about it. Back then it was "either/ or"- be a lesbian or be a mother. No adoption or sperm donation for lesbians back then. Luckily times have changed.
I love the tension and slow build between Evelyn and Ann. I love forbidden love stories because they always seem the most authentic, like the characters are together truly because they love each other and for no other reason. Not for status, not to gain connections or money, not to check off a life milestone. They choose to be with each other despite society's judgmental eyes.
The story fits well against the vastness of the Nevada desert, where anyone can feel anonymous. Anyone can slip off into the hills for privacy with her lesbian lover, surrounded only by miles of earthy hills and desert plants. No witnesses or observers. Just you and the endless expanse. The atmosphere of 1950s Reno is vivid and magical.
Despite some the mismatched themes, I got lost in the story and was driven to read it until the final page. I still prefer the movie version and recommend it to anyone who enjoyed this book. The movie is slow but worth it.
July 18, 2021
4.5 stars...
reviewing books in an attempt to reassess and finalize my thoughts has always been a far more laborious task than reading the whole thing. i have to admit, i've seen the film before reading the book and it was, to me, an archetype of lesbian portrayal in visual media, and because books delve into the complexes of each character and atomity of details that may seem trivial to some, it's a given principle: if the film is good, the book is 10x better.
and i was frankly correct. Jane has a way with words that incited my nature of curiousity despite knowing large parts of the bigger picture. it felt clean and gradual, and unlike many writers, the details provided, regardless of how inconsequential they may seem, added life to an intended element. there were bits of everything really, it felt like one well-rounded, wholesome, insightful piece simultaneously while casting a generous amount of light on day-to-day struggles and topics that are often neglected or trivialized, especially by the public eye of the 50s.
"If there is no face in the mirror, marry. If there is no shadow on the ground, have a child. These are the conventions the will consents to."
i was particularly drawn to this statement, not because of its essence and reflection of reality, but because it felt majorly relatable, sympathetic even. often discovered within sapphic women, it is hard to untwine those sociopolitical structures that have been cemented so deeply into the mold and essentially defined your womanhood and peripheral perception. your desire to marry and reproduce are your scale of value, and that resonated with me. it's also a direction towards sexual ambiguity, denial and rejection. the need to seek approval from men in your life starts growing that your sexual and romantic needs start blurring, it becomes a conundrum that you carry around like baggage, which is concisely depicted through the lens of Evelyn.
i think this book encapsulated a sentiment i longed for and fed me it, now having my thirst quenched. it's also one i'll be revisiting to reread, annotate, discuss, and quote when friends ask of a favorite line from a book. i feel held by it, almost like a hug. and with an ending like that, it felt like a breath of fresh air <3
(my main and only issue with the book was the strong resemblance between Ann and Evelyn which i chose to overlook for the sake of my enjoyment)
reviewing books in an attempt to reassess and finalize my thoughts has always been a far more laborious task than reading the whole thing. i have to admit, i've seen the film before reading the book and it was, to me, an archetype of lesbian portrayal in visual media, and because books delve into the complexes of each character and atomity of details that may seem trivial to some, it's a given principle: if the film is good, the book is 10x better.
and i was frankly correct. Jane has a way with words that incited my nature of curiousity despite knowing large parts of the bigger picture. it felt clean and gradual, and unlike many writers, the details provided, regardless of how inconsequential they may seem, added life to an intended element. there were bits of everything really, it felt like one well-rounded, wholesome, insightful piece simultaneously while casting a generous amount of light on day-to-day struggles and topics that are often neglected or trivialized, especially by the public eye of the 50s.
"If there is no face in the mirror, marry. If there is no shadow on the ground, have a child. These are the conventions the will consents to."
i was particularly drawn to this statement, not because of its essence and reflection of reality, but because it felt majorly relatable, sympathetic even. often discovered within sapphic women, it is hard to untwine those sociopolitical structures that have been cemented so deeply into the mold and essentially defined your womanhood and peripheral perception. your desire to marry and reproduce are your scale of value, and that resonated with me. it's also a direction towards sexual ambiguity, denial and rejection. the need to seek approval from men in your life starts growing that your sexual and romantic needs start blurring, it becomes a conundrum that you carry around like baggage, which is concisely depicted through the lens of Evelyn.
i think this book encapsulated a sentiment i longed for and fed me it, now having my thirst quenched. it's also one i'll be revisiting to reread, annotate, discuss, and quote when friends ask of a favorite line from a book. i feel held by it, almost like a hug. and with an ending like that, it felt like a breath of fresh air <3
(my main and only issue with the book was the strong resemblance between Ann and Evelyn which i chose to overlook for the sake of my enjoyment)
January 21, 2024
all intelligent women are latent homosexuals
June 26, 2015
Brief summary: English Professor Evelyn Hall comes to Reno for six weeks to establish residency in order to obtain a "quickie divorce." While staying at a local bed and breakfast, she falls in love with Ann Childs, a change girl at a local casino and foster daughter of the B&B's owner Frances.
I never thought I'd say this, but: don't read this book without first seeing the movie.
I know saying something like that ruffles the feathers of any bibliophile, to say the least, but I suggest watching the movie first (it's on Netflix) because doing so accounts for the deficiencies of the book and makes it a more whole experience. The movie is no great cinematic feat, and the book is no literary masterpiece. Alone, they are forgettable, but paired together, they create a profound emotional and intellectual experience. Jane Rule is a talented writer, but her talent lies not in describing places, actions, and characters, rather in subtle and nuanced emotions, thoughts, and relational dynamics and drives. Without the setting -- place, time, buildings, physical traits of characters, etc -- the movie provided, I would have been completely disinterested and the beautiful subtleties of the book would have been lost to me.
There are a few esoteric and dull passages about morality, the nature of Man, and the conventions of marriage, but otherwise the book captures attention. For its time, it was groundbreaking, and the lack of explicit sex scenes in the book where the movie was so bold is disappointing, but understandable. All in all a great read if you've got a few images to let the book unfold into.
I never thought I'd say this, but: don't read this book without first seeing the movie.
I know saying something like that ruffles the feathers of any bibliophile, to say the least, but I suggest watching the movie first (it's on Netflix) because doing so accounts for the deficiencies of the book and makes it a more whole experience. The movie is no great cinematic feat, and the book is no literary masterpiece. Alone, they are forgettable, but paired together, they create a profound emotional and intellectual experience. Jane Rule is a talented writer, but her talent lies not in describing places, actions, and characters, rather in subtle and nuanced emotions, thoughts, and relational dynamics and drives. Without the setting -- place, time, buildings, physical traits of characters, etc -- the movie provided, I would have been completely disinterested and the beautiful subtleties of the book would have been lost to me.
There are a few esoteric and dull passages about morality, the nature of Man, and the conventions of marriage, but otherwise the book captures attention. For its time, it was groundbreaking, and the lack of explicit sex scenes in the book where the movie was so bold is disappointing, but understandable. All in all a great read if you've got a few images to let the book unfold into.
January 21, 2021
“‘Damn the will then,’ she said softly. ‘I don’t want to be saved. I want you.’”
Once again I’m cursing the fact you can’t give half star ratings on this app because realistically, my rating is much closer to 4.5. What I didn’t expect going into this book, which was published in 1964, is how much I’d resonate with the characters. Despite the fact that Evelyn and Ann’s inner conflicts are almost polar opposites – Evelyn trapped in her own strict views of morality and convention, afraid to step outside the boundaries of what she has told herself is the best way to live, and Ann comfortable to live outside those conventions, instead craving freedom and refusing commitment and fidelity – I found myself relating to them both in a myriad of ways. I put that down to a sense of shared lesbian experience, which I have felt often in lesbian fiction, but perhaps most profoundly here. Some reviews said the book felt dated, while others said it was uniquely modern, and I think it is an interesting mixture of the two. But there is something timeless in the struggle to shake off both society’s and your own conventions, to live authentically, in choosing to risk everything you thought you stood for and realising your best life might actually look like the complete opposite.
It was beautifully written, incredibly literary, and a wonderful return to reading for me after months unable to finish a book!
Once again I’m cursing the fact you can’t give half star ratings on this app because realistically, my rating is much closer to 4.5. What I didn’t expect going into this book, which was published in 1964, is how much I’d resonate with the characters. Despite the fact that Evelyn and Ann’s inner conflicts are almost polar opposites – Evelyn trapped in her own strict views of morality and convention, afraid to step outside the boundaries of what she has told herself is the best way to live, and Ann comfortable to live outside those conventions, instead craving freedom and refusing commitment and fidelity – I found myself relating to them both in a myriad of ways. I put that down to a sense of shared lesbian experience, which I have felt often in lesbian fiction, but perhaps most profoundly here. Some reviews said the book felt dated, while others said it was uniquely modern, and I think it is an interesting mixture of the two. But there is something timeless in the struggle to shake off both society’s and your own conventions, to live authentically, in choosing to risk everything you thought you stood for and realising your best life might actually look like the complete opposite.
It was beautifully written, incredibly literary, and a wonderful return to reading for me after months unable to finish a book!
October 2, 2022
I think a great novel for the progression of lesbianism for the time, but christ this book was hard to get through.
The idea of the book was amazing and really what kept me going, the execution just wasn’t very successful. I felt annoyed with the constant talk of the Casino and it’s description, especially towards the end with pages of just explaining its symbolism.
It could be me and my attention span, but I really struggled. I actually read the book to watch the movie, and I didn’t even want to watch the movie after reading it.
Recently, I actually did watch the movie, and I highly recommend actually. Was very moving and really beautiful.
The idea of the book was amazing and really what kept me going, the execution just wasn’t very successful. I felt annoyed with the constant talk of the Casino and it’s description, especially towards the end with pages of just explaining its symbolism.
It could be me and my attention span, but I really struggled. I actually read the book to watch the movie, and I didn’t even want to watch the movie after reading it.
Recently, I actually did watch the movie, and I highly recommend actually. Was very moving and really beautiful.
July 10, 2011
My high rating just *might* be due, in part, to the fact that the movie, "Desert Hearts", is awesome. But otherwise, the book was really good! Well-written (it's a toss-up with some of these queer fiction books), not overly ridiculous in the emotions category (sometimes these books gush too much and just get silly), and intelligent about figuring oneself out and dealing with things like divorcing a husband of 16 years (Evelyn is totally morphing into a stronger woman who can feel okay with not needing a man, throughout the story). Anyway, a good read!
March 2, 2022
Harold….
January 24, 2024
i love lesbians !!
August 30, 2021
I set out to re-read this, thinking I'd read it way back when. A chance conversation with my sister this week sees her insist that, back in that day, I borrowed her copy, read the first page and thrust it back at her along with hideously scornful remarks about the writing. I remember this not. I might choose to hope she misremembers...
Because of its history - and its significance for women's writing and for lesbian representation in literature; and because of a fondness for the film, which seems to have pretty much disappeared - I wanted to, expected to, love this book. I'm afraid I'm not quite there.
For me, the book seems to slalom down a course made up of two very different terrains: passages of well-crafted, effective narrative regularly interrupted by passages of rather self-conscious literariness. In my view they don't, overall, help one another along.
The novel insistently draws parallels, for example, between the desert landscape, the relationships between the characters and their emotional landscapes. This works, up to a point, but becomes a little overworked.
There is, however, some very moving writing - the scene in which Kate is introduced is a fabulous example of this.
One of the things I loved about this novel is that, for most of it, the fact that the key relationship we are helped to explore is a sexual relationship between two women is presented as a "happens to be" rather than an "issue-based" exploration. Yes, there are huge emotional quandaries to be overcome, but these have little to do with the fact that the emotional attachment is between two women. Nearly 60 years after the publication of Desert of the Heart it feels as though we're still struggling to get back to this neutral representation of love between women in our cultural output; in the same way that characters still rarely just happen to be black in our films, our literature, it is still an exception for a couple to happen to be lesbian.
Because of its history - and its significance for women's writing and for lesbian representation in literature; and because of a fondness for the film, which seems to have pretty much disappeared - I wanted to, expected to, love this book. I'm afraid I'm not quite there.
For me, the book seems to slalom down a course made up of two very different terrains: passages of well-crafted, effective narrative regularly interrupted by passages of rather self-conscious literariness. In my view they don't, overall, help one another along.
The novel insistently draws parallels, for example, between the desert landscape, the relationships between the characters and their emotional landscapes. This works, up to a point, but becomes a little overworked.
There is, however, some very moving writing - the scene in which Kate is introduced is a fabulous example of this.
One of the things I loved about this novel is that, for most of it, the fact that the key relationship we are helped to explore is a sexual relationship between two women is presented as a "happens to be" rather than an "issue-based" exploration. Yes, there are huge emotional quandaries to be overcome, but these have little to do with the fact that the emotional attachment is between two women. Nearly 60 years after the publication of Desert of the Heart it feels as though we're still struggling to get back to this neutral representation of love between women in our cultural output; in the same way that characters still rarely just happen to be black in our films, our literature, it is still an exception for a couple to happen to be lesbian.
February 17, 2023
Un 3 1/2 ajusté à la hausse. Très intéressante lecture, plus philosophique et réflexive que ce à quoi je m'attendais.
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