Member Reviews
https://lesbrary.com/the-womens-house-of-detention-by-hugh-ryan/
Since the days of lesbian pulp fiction, Greenwich Village has been seen as a gay hub, a refuge for queer people from all over the country. In this book, Hugh Ryan shows that part of the reason for that is because from the 1920s to 70s, it held The Women’s House of Detention, a jail/prison for women and transmasculine people, and many of the people held there were queer.
At first glance, this seems like a narrow focus typical of a very academic book. But as each chapter looks at the prison through the decades, we see how this is a microcosm of broad social issues at the time. The story of The Women’s House of Detention is the story of LGBTQ liberation, and it also illustrates how prison abolition is a necessity.
In the introduction, the author explains how he began this research believing prisons need serious reform, but after seeing how prison reform over the decades in The Women’s House of Detention has only ever resulted in larger prisons with more people packed into them, he now believes abolition is the way forward. The prison was first built with smaller cells so that prisoners would have more privacy, each with their own cell–and then years later, they started keeping multiple people in each. A hospital was added–and then years later, it was gutted to make room for more cells. Then a hospital was reinstated. Then it was gutted again. Any attempts at reform always deteriorated with time.
Each chapter looks at a few of the queer people imprisoned during that decade, telling their stories–at least, what we know of them. It’s a fascinating look into the horrors of the criminal justice system, past and present, as well as the no-win situations these people were put in. Many of them return multiple times, because once they had a criminal record, they had no legal means of making money.
Since each chapter focuses on personal stories as a window into the lives of queer women and transmasculine people during that time period in New York, it makes this accessible and readable. We also get a look into queer communities in each decade, including how the people in The Women’s House of Detention participated in Stonewall and previous protests, even if few people saw or heard about it.
The Women’s House of Detention itself is a complicated place for many of the people imprisoned there: the conditions were horrible, but they also found a queer community there.
I haven’t read as much queer history as I would like, but this is one of my favourite books I’ve read on the topic, and I highly recommend it. The discussion about prison abolition versus reform is relevant to the conversations we’re having today, and seeing a timeline of how this push and pull has played out over a 50-year time period is helpful background. Both for the personal stories and the overall message, you should definitely pick this one up.
Ryan writes an in-depth study of the history of The Women's House of Detention in Greenwich Village, but what made this book really stand out and made it one of my favorite non-fictions of the year, was the fact that this history was told through getting to know some of the incarcerated individuals. Located in the center of Greenwich Village, The Women's House of Detention was a reflection of the queer culture in the surrounding area. Ryan touches on the many intersections of those incarcerated there - accused of prostitution, theft, communism, murder, and drug use, they were poor, middle class, Black, white, Puerto Rican, butch, femme, and bisexual. Ryan highlighted the diversity of the women as well as the causes and desires that bound them together. Very interesting read on a topic I couldn't find much additional information on when trying to research further.
The Women's House of Detention covers the history of said institution in Greenwich Village during its years of operation, 1932-1974. The focus is on the experiences of the women and transmasculine people who were incarcerated there, voices that are often ignored or actively silenced. One of the many strengths of this work is the way the author interweaves broader issues through individual stories, drawing attention to their inseparable, messy, non-binary natures in reality. Queer identities, race and ethnicity, addiction, class, education, and gender are all considered here to see where there are intersections with incarceration that privilege some and oppress others by trying to remove them from society, sometimes violently and more often than not perpetrating injustices against those with the least power to combat them. I learned in this book the term "criminal legal system," replacing the more commonly used "criminal justice system" to accurately depict the aims and outcomes of these institutions (spoiler alert: not justice).
There are several historical trends addressed in this book of great import. It corrects the white cis man-centric view of the pride movement by showing how queer women rioted, formed meaningful relationships outside the heteronormative ideal, and created long-term community bonds to support one another. And The Women's House of Detention was one space where these acts of resistance occurred. Their efforts should not be sidenotes in queer history.
The book also addresses the way the system fosters recidivism over rehabilitation and punishes especially poor, queer, and Black women for existing.
1. I learned about how prostitution charges don't require hard evidence.
2. The "war on drugs" feeds a cycle that prevents women from actually dealing with debilitating addiction.
3. Jobs and housing are hard to come by for women who were jailed without hope of meeting unreasonable bail and even those who were incarcerated only to be acquitted. 4. There is horrible mistreatment at all phases of the criminal legal process, not least of which includes traumatic (physically, psychologically, emotionally) physical exams that were a routine part of intake even though the women had not yet and might never be proven guilty of a crime. These invasive actions are known to be medically unnecessary and have been decried by journalists, politicians, and especially incarcerated people alike. Yet the practice persisted over decades.
Through the interviews and archives cited by the author, the reader can see how society approached queer women and transmasculine people throughout the twentieth century. It also shows how queer people viewed their own identities and experiences throughout this flux. The author is clear about the biases of his sources and where information is not available because the voices in question were not valued. The author also draws attention to limiting language and perspectives that try to constrain the spectrum of queer identities or make them artificially static and easily described.
On several levels, I learned so much from this book through the perspectives and experiences brought out of the shadows. By being purposefully intersectional, I gained a better understanding of our failed criminal legal system. It's yet another strong argument for abolition over futile, empty reform that continues to harm the same people over and over. Queer people, Black people, those in poverty, and those struggling with addiction-- all combinations deserve better. Our society deserves better. This should be a thoughtful call to action for us all. Thanks to Bold Type Books for my copy to read and review!
Thanks so much to Netgalley for providing me a review copy. Hugh Ryan is a master at research and it shows in this thorough account of the history of The Women's House of Detention, a correctional facility that existed for decades in Greenwich Village. The book focuses on the daily lives of some of the prison's LGBTQ+ population, their living conditions, and the attitudes of staff and society about queer people through various time periods. It highlights the injustices of the court system, social services, law enforcement, and corrections. This is an important part of women's and queer history in the US. I learned so much from this book. I didn't expect it to touch on Communism or the Black Panthers and I particularly enjoyed those portions of the book, showing how various movements can tie in and overlap.
Thanks to NetGalley for the ARC of this book. Wow I loved this queer history of both the eponymous prison and NYC, or more accurately, the United States. The timespan of this book, late 1800s through the 1970s is staggering, and the author expertly wove together source material to tell and engrossing and compelling story. This book had it all, queer history, prison reform & abolition, and wonderful writing. I think everyone in America should read this book.
I typically enjoy recounts of queer history. I am having a hard time on why I didn’t love this one… I think it had to do with the short summaries of people’s time, the short recounts of Mary or Sue or Sam. It was hard to connect to such passing summaries, they didn’t really feel real.
There also wasn’t a narrator to follow on the discovery of everything, no homey touches of interviewing someone. There was no one for me to anchor to as we recounted the prison’s history.
I think it was that this really is a straight up history book. I learned a lot, it was sad a lot, but perhaps stylistically, this wasn’t for me. Content was well organized tho and the bibliography is impressive.
Special thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for an eARC in exchange for an honest review.
The Women’s House of Detention by Hugh Ryan
Hugh Ryan’s new social history, The Women’s House of Detention: A Queer History of a Forgotten Prison, is one of the most important books published this year. Equal parts true crime, queer artifact, American history, and societal critique, The Women’s House of Detention (Bold Type Books 2022) is a must-read.
Ryan’s book details the history of The Women’s House of Detention—or the Women’s House of D, as its colloquially known—a women’s prison built in 1920s Greenwich Village, New York City. From 1929 to 1974, the WHD was at the center of women’s incarceration in the city, and over the course of its almost fifty-year tenure, tens of thousands of queer, transmasculine, and gender-nonconforming people were confined in its cramped and poorly maintained cells. Throughout his expansive and thoroughly researched text, Ryan explores the history of the WHD, and as a consequence also investigates the history of incarceration in the United States, the ways in which queer, poor, and racialized bodies are policed and regulated in billion-dollar prison systems, and how one women’s prison situated in what is now the seat of wealth and privilege in New York City exemplifies it all.
The research in this text is impeccable and demonstrates a clear understanding of the essential work of an historian in drawing together thousands of different threads in order to create a clear picture. This book’s careful work reminded me a great deal of Patrick Radden Keefe’s Empire of Pain (2021) in its unveiling of a history of twentieth-century New York City that has global repercussions. Through the queer history of one prison, Ryan traces the effect that national and global political shifts had on incarcerated women and transmasculine people. Chapters on the rise of pharmaceuticals in the mid-twentieth century, World War II, the war on drugs, and the Stonewall Riots alongside gay and black liberation are all read through the archived experiences of individuals at the WHD. This narrative choice presents these historical events in full colour and clarifies who suffered as a result of these social changes.
The impression I had while reading this text was that it is a book that is vitally necessary to both examine where we’ve been and where we are going. Throughout The Women’s House of Detention, Ryan uses his work to focus closely on the conditions, circumstances, and fates of individual inmates from across the twentieth century at the same time that those stories speak to a culture of marginalization and exclusion exacerbated by the prison system (to say nothing of the abuse and neglect in the prisons themselves). Ryan’s book unmistakably indicts the prison system for its capitalistic, racist, and homophobic foundations that continue to inform the business—which is the only name for it—of incarceration today. And perhaps this is what makes Ryan’s book so poignant: his analyses are easily and carefully applied to similar or unchanged circumstances for incarcerated bodies in the twenty-first century, especially in relation to people of colour and queer people.
However, there is a great deal of nuance in The Women’s House of Detention. Although the WHD was a poorly maintained, over-crowded, under-funded, and neglected institution, it was also a hub of queer life. Ryan points out that the WHD is an important landmark in lesbian and queer history and should be remembered as such, despite the fact that it no longer stands in Greenwich Village. While the stories he recounts are tragic, they are also a queer record. Furthermore, I was stunned to learn that influential figures in queer, black, and feminist rights moments were incarcerated in the Women’s House of D, and it permanently changed how they thought about the world and their place in it. Famous women such as Angela Davis, Andrea Dworkin, Afeni Shakur, were held for various reasons and lengths of time, and each emerged from the prison changed, and their traumas and experiences went on to influence them later in life. Ryan’s inclusion of both famous and unknown stories of women illustrates just how integral the WHD was to the fabric of the prison system in the twentieth century, but also how central it was to queer life and history.
I could not have been more compelled by this book’s careful exploration of queer and American history. It truly is one of the most important and necessary books published this year and reflects an ongoing need to shine a spotlight on carceral systems in the US and around the world.
Please add The Women’s House of Detention to your Goodreads shelf and follow Hugh Ryan on Twitter.
Don’t forget to follow True Crime Index on Twitter and please visit our Goodreads for updates on what we’re reading! You can find Rachel on her personal @RachelMFriars or on Goodreads @Rachel Friars.
About the Writer:
Rachel M. Friars (she/her) is a PhD student in the Department of English Language and Literature at Queen’s University in Kingston, Ontario. She holds a BA and an MA in English Literature with a focus on neo-Victorianism and adaptations of Jane Eyre. Her current work centers on neo-Victorianism and nineteenth-century lesbian literature and history, with secondary research interests in life writing, historical fiction, true crime, popular culture, and the Gothic. Her academic writing has been published with Palgrave Macmillan and in The Journal of Neo-Victorian Studies. She is a reviewer for The Lesbrary, the co-creator of True Crime Index, and an Associate Editor and Social Media Coordinator for PopMeC Research Collective. Rachel is co-editor-in-chief of the international literary journal, The Lamp, and regularly publishes her own short fiction and poetry. Find her on Twitter and Goodreads.
A digital copy of this book was graciously provided to True Crime Index from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.
The Women’s House of Detention tells the true story of a Greenwich Village prison that held women, transgender men, and gender non-conforming people for decades. Hugh Ryan reconstructs the history of the prison and its inmates, and tells the stories of the ones who suffer the most from injustice. He gives a voice to the ones who are so often pushed to the margins of society, especially People of Color and queer people. Ryan is truly the master of rebuilding queer history from scraps and pieces of information, and presenting them in a fascinating, thought-provoking way. I loved the way he connects different threads of history - The Black Panthers, Stonewall - and weaves them together with the almost forgotten ones - like the prison itself. I was also impressed with the case Ryan makes for abolition, and I felt it worked perfectly with this book.
TLDR: The Women’s House of Detention is a brilliant glimpse at a piece of queer history that not many know about.
In The Women’s House of Detention, Hugh Ryan dives into the history of a prison through the experiences of the women, transgender men, and gender-nonconforming people who were imprisoned there. This book is a must read for people who are interested in queer history and prison abolition. The clear amount of research put into this book is impressive and I can’t wait to pick up more Hugh Ryan’s work.
Just give me all the queer history books. I really enjoyed Hugh Ryan’s previous book, When Brooklyn Was Queer, so I was excited to learn that he was publishing another book in the same vein. The Women’s House of Detention traces the history of the prison of the same name that was in use in Greenwich Village from 1929 through 1974. The book shows the horrors of what went on in the facility, mostly through the eyes of the queer women and transmasc people who were imprisoned there.
This book was an excellent mix of learning about the lives of queer people in the early 20th century in New York and also learning about the injustices that they faced in the legal system and the harsh ways they were treated after being released. The archives and files that Hugh Ryan had access to provided so much information into the lives of everyday people and not just famous women who were able to publish their own books about their experiences.
It was illuminating to read about the ties between the prison and the Black Panthers, feminist, and the gay liberation movements and how women like Angela Davis and Afeni Shakur were impacted by their time in the House of D. Also, learning about how the prison was just down the street from the Stonewall Inn and that the people inside the prison rioted alongside the people at Stonewall was fascinating.
I feel like anyone interested in queer history or learning more about how awful the prison and criminal legal systems are should read this book. It doesn’t shy away from showing the true horrors in these institutions. And while the book is mainly focused on the past, Hugh Ryan does include facts about how many of the issues at the House of D are still issues that people face today.
While mass incarceration in America has been a topic of discussion in social justice circles for decades, Hugh Ryan sheds a light on women’s prisons within the carceral system and the role they played in developing lesbian, transgender, and bisexual history. Detailing the history of the “Women’s House of D”, the book explores the lives of a tiny fraction of its inmates over the 40+ years of its operation, and how some of these women and trans men lived before and after their time in the prison.
Each story is fascinating in its own right and stitches together the lives of women across generations who were pioneers of queer life and inadvertently brought together through lengthy jail time for often petty or fabricated crimes. Highlighting the injustices women have faced throughout the 20th century for deviating from “moral society”, Ryan also shows how marginalized communities can bring about change by working together across social justice issues.
An incredible book for deepening knowledge on queer history, feminist history, prison history and history of Greenwich Village.
"The Women's House of Detention" by Hugh Ryan is a nonfiction work about a prison in Greenwich Village that housed women until it was torn down in the 1970s. The book also covers the institutionalization of women in general, especially in New York State and the perceived threat of queer people within the prison system and society. It's really interesting to think about this major correctional institution that existed for decades and played a huge role in the make-up of an area that is in a neighborhood that is now unaffordable to most. This book highlights both the strength of queer communities inside and outside of prison and the dehumanization of people deemed unfit for society. The author points out how the women arrested were used as entertainment for people visiting the area and the different ways that women were targeted for arrest based on who they were. As a heavy nonfiction reader, this book stands out for being the first of its kind on this topic, and it is a greatly expands one's knowledge of a lesser known area of mass incarceration in America.
I received this as a eGalley from NetGalley.
Will automatically read anything Hugh Ryan writes because a) he does his fucking research and b) I always learn so much.
Hugh Ryan explores forgotten queer history through the lives of women and transmasculine people who were held in the women's prison The Women's House of Detention (or "House of D") in Greenwich Village. Open from 1931-1974, The House of D was an overcrowded and inhumane jail where women and transmasculine folks, a disproportionate amount of whom were Black and/or queer, were sent both to await trial and to serve their sentences.
Through each chapter we learn about the prison through the lives and experiences of the queer women and transmasculine people who were held there, most of whom were, like the prison, an almost forgotten part of queer history- until now.
I loved that this was written through an abolitionist lens, as I'm not sure I could've stomached it had the author pushed for prison reform. As a queer person who is definitely not ignorant of queer history, I was surprised by the fact that I had not heard of the House of D, and horrified at what so many queer women and transmasculine people endured there. I am grateful that their stories are being shared here.