“Where are the quiet gays supposed to go?” When Hannah Gadsby posed this question on stage in 2017, it stirred reverberations deep inside my soul.

This Pride Month, I have an answer: quiet gays can happily read a book about loud gays going to bars. I think I have just realized that my favorite kind of night out is the night out I am merely reading about.

In Moby Dyke, lesbian humorist Krista Burton goes on an epic road trip to the last lesbian bars in America, and along the way she recounts how she emerged from an oppressive Mormon upbringing to become the creator of Effing Dykes.

I loved the way her book unfolded into a heartfelt travel diary. She treats other states almost like they’re foreign countries, curious about cultural differences and the dialects, fashions, and foods found across regions.

She also goes to many of the bars with her spouse Davin Sokup, who incidentally became Minnesota’s first trans man elected into office this year. Together they’re able to explore the complexity—and increasing inclusivity—of queer spaces today.

And that’s what this is: a fun, light, and airy exploration. Krista doesn’t dig too deep into questions like “Why are lesbian bars always inclusive when gay bars are just gay bars?” or “Why have lesbian bars become critically endangered?” This is not an academic text, never poking beyond the conversations she has over drinks at crowded bars on Saturday nights. Yet somehow, Krista’s experiences start to paint a bigger picture.

Lesbian bars rose up in response to the exclusivity of traditional gay bars. They’re the spaces for everyone else queer. And while they are decreasing—likely for a multitude of reasons, ranging from increased societal acceptance to Trump era politics—there is also a renewed spotlight on their plight. Campaigns like the Lesbian Bar Project have made folks consider: Do we still need lesbian bars? Do we still want them? The answer is a resounding yes, and more queer-inclusive spaces continue to open up across the country.

Sadly, the single Black-owned lesbian bar in the country, Herz, closed just last April. In the book, Krista frets, “When would I be able to come back [to Herz]? To what was—I suddenly felt it, standing there—one of my favorite bars on this trip?”

The answer, post-publication, turns out to be never, which is a theme that runs through the book: We all get only the here-and-now, this one night, these people in this bar in this city, and then it’s gone. Never again.

But there’s always the next night, and a different city.

Krista describes cities all across the country as having their own idiosyncratic charm and queer communities—gays playing beach volleyball in Virginia, getting overly competitive at cornhole in Colorado, inventing fried pepperonis dipped in ranch in Ohio, and it all added up into one big gay americana hug. To top it all off, Krista meets with the mothers of Free Mom Hugs, who give queer folks hugs at parades and stand-in for absent parents at weddings. Yeah, parts of this book made me tear up.

Moby Dyke felt as close to a great night out as it’s possible to get without being surrounded by actual sweaty bodies. I gobbled it up in two days and highly recommend it.

Brand	N/A
Rating	4.3 (55 ratings)
Price	$14.45
Category	Travel

Moby Dyke: An Obsessive Quest To Track Down The Last Remaining Lesbian Bars In America