oh who the fuck knows.

On page 111, he describes the swimming pool, empty and lifeless, and to think of it in terms of cost, of loss, the cycles of wealth. The empty swimming pool is the wasteland of broken dreams, of all that could not be accomplished. The buoyancy of the water will not keep you afloat. The stairs reaching for the bottom, but never quite getting there symbolize all that is hoped for and yet never achieved.

The empty swimming pool is symbolic to me of the queer art of failure. Or  The Queer: Art of Failure. Or The Queer Art: Failure. It is understanding what is normal, what is supposed to be, and then subverting those hopes/wishes/ideals. 

you forget these things as you grow older- to be a dweeb, to fall short, to get distracted. As a child, they are part and parcel of who you are, of your daily life. You go to school and it is drilled into your head to work hard, to be smart, to pay attention. In my life it was that and the pool, be the best, don't give up, don't quit, work harder than anyone else out there.

The queer art of failure helps you to understand that it is a-ok to lose your way, to find a limit, and to forget mastery. To know that the pool will not always be filled and the stairs won't reach the bottom- embrace it, revel it. Fail in it.