Mary Ann Singleton was twenty-five years old when she saw San Francisco for the first time.
Make no mistake: Tales of the City and its subsequent sequels is an ensemble piece. The cast of characters is broad and ever-increasing and while naturally get more attention than others, it is safe to suggest that the balance between leading characters and supporting characters is at least about even. Having established this face, however, it is also safe to suggest that Mary Ann Singleton is the heart and soul of the tales. This may seem odd: she is a rather ordinary, distinctly less-than-quirky heterosexual female in a city that is, let’s face it, either famous or infamous for being populated by those who do not fit this description. While it is not the case that the events of the narrative are seen through Mary Ann—much less conveyed by her—her presence towers over the book even when she’s not present. The stories may have been written for the knowing entertainment of the city’s more quirky characters (and character) but they were also being written for someone completely different: the new arrival soon to be sucked into the maelstrom capable of transforming even the most staid outsider into a non-native native.
“Jimmy Carter is a Kennedy!”
Make no mistake: these tales are not just about a very specific cosmopolitan culture (San Francisco) but a very specific time (the 1970’s). The result can be a little disconcerting for 21st century. On the one hand, reading it can be a fascinating learning experience in the form of an eyewitness account to history as it was occurring. On the other hand, references and allusions can be a rollercoaster of hit or miss as the range from squeezing the Charmin to Richard Nixon’s daughters to “Tania” Hearts (as opposed to far more accessible “Patty” Hearst). The people and events that preoccupy the conversation of the characters are exactly those preoccupying the conversation of those at the time. The farther away from that time one reads the book, the more handy easy access to the internet becomes.
“This must be a great town to be single in. I mean … for a straight guy…Well, I mean … there are so many gay guys that a straight guy must be a hot property with the women. At least … you know what I mean.”
Does Tales of the City feature lots of scenes of gay men having sex with each other? Sure. It is about San Francisco in the pre-AIDS party days of the 1970’s, after all. To label it as simply “gay fiction” is to deeply mischaracterize its content and pleasures, however. If it must absolute be characterized by the collective quality of its content, then a much more appropriate place for it would be on the shelf for books about America in the 70’s right between Fear of Flying and Looking for Mr. Goodbar. As previously indicated, the heart and soul of Tales of the City is Mary Ann Singleton, hardly the first character to come to mind as a gay icon.
“You’re one of us, then. Welcome to 28 Barbary Lane.”
San Francisco is the city and it represents the place where many of the extended population of the stories occur. Within that broader setting, however, is one very specific boarding house that represents home to those characters who form the heart of the book. The newest arrival is, of course, Mary Ann. Her welcome by the truly eccentric keeper of great secrets, Mrs. Madrigal, is the symbolic welcome by the city at large to all its unique natives-to-be, no matter how idiosyncratic or beaten down by where they came from. In fact, the city is so welcoming that even seeming representatives of the mainstream that most come to the city to escape—like Mary Ann Singleton—is is welcomed with the same open arms.
