Book Review/Heather Seggel

Not Both, But All

Is bisexuality (finally) having a moment? I still have not seen HBO’s “Hacks,” but Hannah Einbinder’s stand-up set on “The Late Show with Stephen Colbert” marks the only time I’ve ever heard the subject raised as something other than a cheap punchline (it’s a very funny set, worth seeking out). Desiree Akhavan’s film “Appropriate Behavior” touches on the difficulty of figuring out one’s desires when role models are in short supply; Akhavan has also directed some episodes of “Hacks.” And now there’s Jen Winston, and “Greedy: Notes From a Bisexual Who Wants Too Much” (Atria), a memoir in essays. The stories are by definition personal, but part of the journey involves unpacking issues of gender, sexuality, privilege, and oppression; as a result, there’s a nice balance between individual and societal issues. For a memoir, it’s got a fairly epic list of references and citations at the end. Footnotes abound.

Winston describes her teen years as including an inkling of attraction to other girls, but that feeling was easily set aside to pursue male approval, often via encounters that blurred lines of consent and exploitation. Moving from Indiana to Los Angeles and then New York, she’s continually levelling up in terms of hipster dating pools, but has difficulty connecting. There are some stories of successful hookups (a threesome that goes well reads as sexy, but also incredibly charming), but many more that miss the mark. They can be funny, but also biting; a date with a lesbian who immediately dismisses her bisexuality as a phase, argues for why this book exists in the first place. Winston is staking out a place in the world in which to live honestly, and it’s hard on multiple fronts. She writes, “Coming out as bi was intimidating, but coming out as lonely? Terrifying.”

I was moved by Winston’s ability to admit what she doesn’t know while sharing what she learns without ever drifting into condescension. Working advertising and marketing gigs and writing pointless, click-baity listicles did not feed her soul, but it positioned her well to channel her grief after the 2016 election. A fit of posting memes and marketing “girl power” logo merch felt cathartic, but was a highly privileged move; when called out about it, she course-corrected, and her subsequent writing expanded into discussions of, “femininity, queer theory, and my sex life.” (This could also have been a great subtitle.)

These stories are rich in specific detail. The crummy NYC apartment with roommates all comparing notes on their dating app hookups reminded me of Lena Dunham’s “Girls,” but gentler. There’s real drama, but she cushions it with humor and the careful deployment of content warnings at the beginning of some chapters. If you only want to wade in up to your ankles at any point that’s okay, but you’ll likely be pulled along with the story as it unfolds.

That ability to maintain a light tone even when discussing hard things suggests “Greedy” could itself work as a TV show, perhaps in the way Lindy West’s “Shrill” was adapted. It would be welcome; bisexual invisibility is a real thing, and if you’re not bi it can be easy to say the wrong thing because the right thing is so hard to see. Of course, if you are bi, that means you have comparatively few out role models to look to, and one of them is Kyrsten Sinema. When yet another hookup story is shared and I feel the beginnings of an eye-roll coming on, it inevitably proves to have been included for a reason that further explains where Jen’s coming from. When she falls in love at the end of the book it’s a delight, not just because we’ve come to root for her, but because everything that went before seems to lead directly to it.

“Greedy” is fresh and funny, but its main points are deeply felt. The fact that folks as young as Winston (who was 32 when she wrote it) still struggled with confusion and the lack of visibility around issues of sexual identity means we’re not done with the work of liberation yet. That yearning to be seen can feel like hunger tipping into starvation at times. Why on earth wouldn’t she want more?

Heather Seggel is a writer living in Northern California.

From The Progressive Populist, October 15, 2021

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