And The Band Played On: Politics, People, And The AIDS Epidemic (2000) - Plot & Excerpts
Revisiting Randy Shilts' groundbreaking history of the early day of the AIDS epidemic in the United States after my first reading of it some twenty-five years ago was a little bit of an eye-opening experience. I still admire Shilts' month-by-month analysis of how public health officials, the research science industry, the gay population affected most directly by the plague, and the government at both the local and federal level responded—or in most cases, failed to respond—to the burgeoning threat. His almost cinematic scope makes the work eminently readable, while the inherent drama in the ever-increasing numbers of people felled by the virus keeps the focus as tight as any summer action thriller. I'm struck on this re-read, however, by some of Shilts' uglier and more manipulative stunts while posturing as an objective reporter to the unfolding of events. Sure, he's angry, and he's quick to point fingers and spread blame throughout the book. That stance is understandable—and frankly, there are plenty of people and institutions that deserve the blame. When it comes to the gay community in particular, however, Shilts indulges in some incredibly guileful rhetoric to divide that community between the good gays and the disgusting, bad whores who ruined everything for everyone else. He's not really all that subtle about it, either; the bad gays are not only sluttish bathhouse habitués, but are drawn in broad and villainous strokes as amyl nitrite addicts who all, to a soul, indulge in the vicious sports of fist-fucking and urinating upon each other. (The good gays in the book, in case you wonder, all very chastely are shown to lie next to each other upon their beds without having sex, and if they do, they "make love" after they confess their high school-like "crushes" on each other.) The bad gays populating the bathhouses and dark alleys are all insanely beautiful as well. They may have a "sensual charisma," or may prefer to be "the only charismatic guy in the room," or they're at (God help us) "the top of Manhattan's ziggurat of beauty." In fact, Shilts' biggest villain in the book walks around in chapter after chapter, flipping his hair and twiddling his mustache while smirking and thinking to himself in scenes that are clearly fictionalized (though in an afterword, Shilts claims to have fictionalized nothing) that he's "the prettiest one in the room."The hyperbole Shilts employs in his obsession with "the royalty of gay beauty and . . . the stars of the homosexual jet set" is weirdly off-putting, this time around; he writes almost from the disgruntled perspective of the ugly kid laughed out of the high school junior prom. Worse yet, his demonization of hair-flipping Gaetan Dugas, the Canadian flight attendant he dubbed "Patient Zero" shows a callous zest for scapegoating instead of any kind of journalistic integrity. It's commonly accepted now that Patient Zero (who may or may not have been Dugas) was not the first person in the U.S. affected by AIDS, nor did he bring it to the country—yet Shilts is all too happy to write scene after scene of Dugas literally leaping out the bathhouse shadows, Boogey Man-style, to frighten its denizens with his Karposi's Sarcoma lesions after he's infected them all. During the book's publicity tour, Shilts acceded to the publisher's requests to emphasize the Dugas story in his book's publicity; whether enthusiastically or not, he became a willing accessory to the conviction of the dead man without much of a trial. And it's difficult to buy Shilts' tepid disclaimer that "Whether Gaetan Dugas actually was the person who brought AIDS to North America remains a question of debate and is ultimately unanswerable," several hundred pages into the book, when all along Shilts has depicted him relentlessly as the Freddy Kreuger of the Castro.But then, Shilts is quick to laud those he admires and vilify anyone he finds faintly disagreeable. If someone is angry with public officials and speaks out rashly, and that someone happens to be Larry Kramer, he's lauded as a hero (and has all the good reviews of his play quoted in one big lump). If someone else gets angry and speaks out rashly in pretty much the same way, Shilts feels free to damn him as a "sociopath." In a maddening chapter on some phenomenon he calls "AIDSpeak," Shilts dismisses as obstructionist and dangerous anyone from the gay community who at any time brought up issues relating to patient confidentiality in testing for HIV, or who worried about conservative demands for quarantining or for mass HIV testing to root homosexuals from their jobs and communities . . . even though those concerns were quite legitimate, and in some ways still are. Again, as someone who lived through those terrible years myself, I understand Shilts' anger at everyone who delayed AIDS research and relief funds to a suffering population, or whose politicking precluded good public health care. However, I don't think it journalistic, or even professional, to play fast and loose with reputations in the name of telling a good story, while pretending to be neutral—especially with the crystal-clear focus that only comes with hindsight. There was a point late in the book in which Shilts tsk-tsks at the notion that outsiders might mentally divide the gay population into "the fist-fuckers of Folsom Street" and "respectable middle class gays" . . . when that's exactly what he does himself from page one of his epic.For all of its sweep and its pace and its moments of justified, righteous anger, And the Band Played On apportions its blame not all that even-handedly. It's decidedly unsubtle at choosing its villains, and it rides roughshod over anyone who dares to have been sexual or who has even a passing regard for civil liberties in a time of crisis. His narrative choices are a telling relic from the era he covers, perhaps, but it doesn't make for an entirely impartial historical inquiry.
I have never learned so much. This book is the bible when it comes to the history and thorough examination of this horrible and tragic ordeal of the AIDS crisis. Very structured. Dynamic story telling. Passionately created through education of the subject, from start to present. Utterly phenomenal in scale.There is also a wonderful movie that HBO did with the same name, that movie is based on this book. The movie itself is what I consider one of the greatest Television movies to ever be created. The book is one of those books that goes on the list of most important books ever written. I thought I knew AIDS. I thought I knew the basis of it, boy was I wrong. This is an amazing journey throughout this horrible reality of a true mass murderer.AIDS is the monster in the darkness, the boogieman under the bed, but in reality it is all around us. It’s a terrible beast that infects all walks of life, from baby to elderly. This book expresses the beginning of this unflinching beast. I have known four persons that have died with AIDS. Four great friends that slowly, horribly, withered away into nothing.AIDS not only damages the person that has it, but family, friends, lovers, all take that trip. Thankfully this day and age, HIV /AIDS patients have more of chance at living longer. In the early 80’s, it was death, plain and simple. It was painful and in most cases the person lingered a horrible painful death. This book introduces you to main persons involved. From the first diagnosed, to the first reported death. It shows you the reality of how this monster spread, and how so many had, lived with it, and passed it on.The books showcase the politics, the science and most of all the medical reality of this Beast known as AIDS. I think we failed ourselves, because it could have been halted, and the growth of this Beast could have been maintained. But the past is the past, it can’t be changed. We have to live now, and further study, and teach about AIDS. I think we are sadly forgetting the horrors of this Beast. AIDS is still here, still deadly, still a vibrant killer.And the Band Played On is a book that I feel everyone should read to educate themselves on this horrible subject. Randy Shilts makes a truthful, and bold statement. We are to blame for the wide spread horror that is AIDS. The government and political mumbo jumbo that allowed this beast to further itself through labeling it “oh it’s a gay thing” and the medical field fighting who can get there name on the subject, and be recognized in the medical field. The asinine idea of who can be published first. The chopping of the budget toward research. Red Cross’s stupidity, and all the other tape cutting reality of the government that led to what happened, and this book shows, explores it, and tells the truth.One of the best examples of Investigative journalism. Randy Shilts not only crafted one of the greatest researched books, but he gave a voice to all those victims of this horrible beast. Sadly this passionate and power writer, died of this horrible Beast in 1994. Shilts left a legacy through this book, and gave a voice to every victim that this monster silenced.You can finish my review on my personal page: http://www.classicbookreading.com/201...
What do You think about And The Band Played On: Politics, People, And The AIDS Epidemic (2000)?
History isn't the best category for me to shelve this title, since the crisis continues, but it was the best I could do. Randy Shilts has done a remarkable work of journalism here, and 25 years later, it still infuriates. In 1981, when doctors first started noticing young men turning up in their offices with strange ailments that usually only afflicted the elderly, they pushed for a strong research backing to find out what was causing it. Nobody lifted a finger or spent a penny in those early days, because those who were afflicted were either gay or IV drug users. The belief stated or unstated, was that whatever this new disease was, it was killing all the right people, so it wasn't worth a look. But my goodness how things changed when the first heterosexual case was diagnosed! Suddenly the "gay plague" became something that was affecting the "general population," and thus it merited the news coverage it hadn't received thusfar. Shameful. Then there's the medical one-upmanship between the scientists trying to isolate the virus. The news that the virus that causes AIDS was isolated (and thus we could start on devising a test that would tell people if they were infected or not) was withheld for more than a year while researchers argued over who would get the credit (and thus the royalties). Meanwhile, literally thousands of people died. I have a friend who lost everyone in his address book. Every last friend he had at that time is now a statistic, a monument to a nation that just didn't give a damn. It took the diagnosis and death of Rock Hudson and the voice of Elizabeth Taylor, to push things into something resembling proper priority, five years after those first young men went to the doctor saying "I don't feel well." It's a sad, shameful story, with bigotry, ignorance, arrogance and apathy at its heart. Reading about it made me furious; I can't begin to imagine what it must have been like to be in the life then, watching it unfold in real time.
—Graceann
I think everyone should read this book. Seriously. Randy Shilts presents the epic tale of the beginning of the AIDs epidemic through the eyes of health officials, scientists, doctors, politicians, patients, and the media. It is an incredible story of how America willfully ignored the spread of AIDs until it was too late to stem. He uses all the interviews and research that he did as a journalist for the SF Chronicle who covered the epidemic full time for years. The book travels all over the world in a careful timeline starting with the very first AIDs patients and ending in 1988.One of the most affecting parts for me was reading about the partisanship, bickering, and politics that overcame good science and public health decisions. If feels too similar to the debates we have been having about the environment and global warming.It may sound like a dry read, but it is completely enthralling. Equal parts medical detective story and train wreck. I missed my busstop while reading it and ended up by the side of a highway in the hinterlands. Now *that's* a recommendation.
—Sasha
If you're seeking a comprehensive history of the AIDS epidemic, look no further. Written as a detective story, this must read book covers all aspects of the disease, from history, to journalism, to politics, to people. Randy Shilts, in his thorough investigative report, highlights the many blunders along the way, blunders that are unbelievable in retrospect. It is not an anti-Republican rant, rather it is a very fair assessment of the collective failure of all entities involved. Because the individuals initially infected were mostly gay or drug users, the public was extremely apathetic. Due to the transmission methods (sodomy, IV drugs, etc.), AIDS was seen as an "embarrassing" disease and was ignored by the media and government officials (federal AND local, Dems AND Reps, Feinstein, Reagan, and many more). Gay activists considered calls for safe sex to be homophobic slurs, scientists were uncooperative and only interested in earning the Nobel Prize, and blood banks were only concerned with the bottom line, refusing to admit that their supplies were contaminated. The "Patient Zero" theory, in which, one extremely promiscuous man knowingly spread the disease to MANY men in several regions, is touched upon. In addition to the disasters, the author also cites many heroes, including Rock Hudson (the first celebrity who went public, making the cause more relevant to the general population) and C. Everett Koop (Reagan's surgeon general who published the first realistic and understandable report on the insidious disease, disregarding common "pc-isms"). Shilts himself was infected with the virus while writing the book, but he did not want to bias the book by getting tested before he was finished. This should be required reading for all; while it appears daunting at 600 pages, it is extremely interesting, well researched, and worth the time spent.
—Katie
