Bathhouse Babylon: The Good, the Bad and the Horny - the business of getting men laid

23Dec 2021 -

Sex, drugs, greed, and scandal . . . just another day at work

A diary of both business and debauchery

Jameson Farn was bored at his job in an architecture firm. He discovered the two local bathhouses - admiring the architecture, design and business model as much as the men - and wound up taking a part-time job to supplement his income. He discovered that the tubs were his true calling and became a full-time employee. And then a manager. Bathhouse Babylon: The Good, the Bad and the Horny is his story.

Thanks to Kenneth Anger, putting the word "Babylon" in a title implies lots of salacious gossip and gritty sexual intrigue. While Bathhouse Babylon doesn't stint on the grittiness, there is shocking lack of smutty detail. Repeatedly, Farn reacts, or observes reactions, of more titllation than shock that there are men walking through the dim hallways clad only in towels. Or, gasp, completely naked. When there are details, they are succinct and delicious. The horse hung drag queen who demands to be worshipped. The airline steward with the body of a Greek god but also a drug problem. The exhibitionist couple who put on a spectacular New Year's Eve show. The older men who "pull a princess." The Chew Master. Five Fingered Charlie. If there were more of those examples, Bathhouse Babylon would be a page turner. 

But Farn is oddly dismissive and/or dismayingly discreet. He is trying to communicate something deeper. Towards the end of Bathhouse Babylon he writes:

I knew a lot of these men in passing for years and can appreciate an absolutely beautiful man, but think especially because of the industry I was in; you end up seeing every body shape and size along with dick lengths and widths imaginable, both day and night that, at least for me, made me more interested in the actual individual as the rest starts to become a blur.

And then:

There are men that come to a bathhouse feeling vulnerable and are seeking some kind of affection and validation, even if they don't end up meeting someone, they can be happy enough just to be surrounded by men, who are  hooking up or watching a movie on the big screen with others, they feel a sense of camaraderie and you just want to give them a big hug, and at times do just to let them know you are happy they are around . . . Then you get the other kind who are also seeking some form of love and to them, that comes by way of letting themself become very open to anything by getting themselves on a sling in a public playroom and spreading their legs, open for whatever and whoever wants them. As odd as it sounds, this is also a way many men do end up forming some wonderful relationships by meeting their tribe so to speak.

Farn is trying to explain the mystique of bathhouse culture and its many subcultures. And by extension, gay culture itself. That wonderful space where sex and camaraderie, exploration and community, intermingle and thrive. At times he provides insights and communicates the heady hedonistic experience, but Bathhouse Babylon is too disorganized and scattered to offer concise sociological depth. Part of the problem may be that Farn was a manager in a business where discretion is a necessity. More time is spent on the mechanics of running a bathhouse than on the kinks and escapdes that occur within the walls. A good edit would tighten this material and much of it is fascinating. A chapter on the building of a bathhouse from the ground up and the egos involved in its creation, reads like a renovation telenovela. Details on licensing, the necessary cleaning products, equipment and organization are all intriguing and eye-opening, but repeated too often and are nowhere near as clearly delineated as the business's books needed to be.

A manager also has to keep a certain distance and Farn is very circumspect about his own life, sexual desires and emotions. Much is implied in passing. A brief meth addiction is dealt with quickly and dispassionately. Even a devastating fire that burns his workplace, his home away from home and his near obsession, to the ground, is described at a remove. Less mechanics and more guts would have made Bathhouse Babylon far more gripping. There is also a stylistic problem. As well as needing an organizational edit, Farn's sentences and grammar have a tendency to run on and be inconsistent. It is hard to stay engaged with the text when one has to pause to untangle a bit of prose in order to figure out what it means. And if one has already read what it is trying to impart.

There is obviously a fascination with bathhouses. Just google 'bathhouse' and you will receive reams of tawdry click bait. They were the object of much mirth and curiosity when covid restrictions and guidelines were being drawn up. Gay sex is alluring, even for those who find it repugnant (though I believe that is a fear of the unknown and unspokenly desired), and a bathhouse is where gay sex is known to occur. From Queer as Folk to South Park to Gossip Girl, bathhouses have crept into the mainstream consciousness as a known quantity. Bette Midler blithely refers to her beginnings as Bathhouse Betty, a period of time that The Ritz turned into a fluffy comedy. Multitudes of gay novels or memoirs - Faggots, The Book of Casey Adair, Red X, Full Service -  feature bathhouse scenes as they are often a pivotal part of the coming out process or give historical grounding. Rolyn Chambers' memoir, The Boy Who Brought Down a Bathhouse, is more about the art of managing a bathhouse and covers the same material in a totally different way. And I couldn't wait to start reading Bathhouse Babylon based on the very clever marketing campaign.

Even if none of the above manage to explain or explicate the allure of a bathhouse, Bathhouse Babylon does evoke that mystique and magic that is the experience. Bathhouse virgins and the prurient but hesitant, might find the details enlightening or frightening, but for most it will bring back memories. Farn writes of the distinctive smell of a bathhouse, of how he can tell what the building is from the outside even without signage. It is impossible to read Bathhouse Babylon and not want to inhale that distinct aroma. Wrap a towel around one's waist and prowl the dim corridors to find Mr Right, Mr Right Now or Misters Right Now. In that way, Bathhouse Babylon is inspirational. If Farn decides to pen a sequel (or a rewrite) that is an operational manual intercut with the risqué ribald tales he still has tucked up his sleeve or under his towel, Mr Anger would heartily approve and I will eagerly dive in for more.