(1952 - October 31, 1993) Canada
In The Crisis of Desire, Robin Hardy pondered gay brotherhood -- not just, as a play about 19th century pioneer Edward Carpenter had it, The Dear Love of Comrades, but the erotic brotherhood of men we might, indeed, never see again.
In the early '80s Robin lived in Paris and Berlin, still divided by the Wall, he sometimes on its eastern side; by 1985, New York. He'd write blood & guts adventure stories for men, using a nom de plume, common practice in the genre. Some of his other works clearly required one: Hardy Boys stories - a real Hardy boy writing them.
"I met my last East German boy there. We walked arm in arm around Alexanderplatz to get drunk on weisser beer in the tavern in city hall. We had sex up against the S-Bahn bridge at Marx- Engels- Platz, hidden by bushes.
As I felt his body ravenous against mine, I realized I was not just a person to him, not even just a sex partner, but the physical incarnation of a world he dreamed of, a realm that shimmered and sparkled on the other side of a wall and a death zone, only a few blocks away.
There are other forms of objectification than that which comes from admiring beauty. It didn't bother me to be objectified.
...he was hungry; I fed him my body."
It wasn't AIDS that took him away - though he'd long had HIV: hiking in a rocky park in Arizona he'd slipped, fallen. There didn't seem much point to them anyway: whatever, however, Robin is gone, 43 years old.