Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Compulsory Heterosexulity in Fiddler on the Roof

It shows how much queer theory has been stuffed into my brain when I can’t even watch a musical without analyzing it.  That being said, the Rosetown cast did a fantastic job, as always.

The first thing to do with any feminist critique is to measure female presence using the Bechdel test.  “Fiddler,” despite having many important female characters, only barely passes.  At the very end, during the exodus from Anatevka, the Matchmaker stops by Tevye’s house to tell Golde that she is moving to Jerusalem.  Other than that, every single conversation is either with a man or about a man.  Heck, there’s even a musical number about men.

Now let’s go through the daughters, because I’m not quite hard-core enough to go through the entire cast.

At first glance, the play seems pretty feminist-friendly.  After all, the women are defying their father’s wishes in order to do what they want with their lives…regarding the man they marry.  In other words, the women defy a male object by seeking another.

Tzeitel

Tzeitel’s act of defiance is to choose her own lover, the poor tailor, rather than marry the rich butcher her father picked out for her.  How does she go about this?  First she pressures Motel into telling her father.  She can’t do it herself, obviously.  Then, when her father announces her engagement to the butcher, she begs him not to force her, and he, being the benevolent patriarch, gives in.  One has to wonder, though, what would have happened if he had not been so benevolent.  Obviously, it is Tevye’s story of transformation, but if you change the perspective, it becomes a lot darker.
Tzeitel finally convinces her father to let her marry Motel, when Motel finally stands up to Tevye.  His winning line is “Even a poor tailor deserves some happiness,” a line that was fed to him by Tzeitel.  Does she get any credit for it?  Of course not.  A woman’s job is to stand behind her man, to support him in everything he does and do nothing for herself.  But Motel’s so adorkable, we can forgive him.

Hodel

Hodel has a love at first fight kind of relationship with Perchik.  She is certainly witty and clever enough to keep up with him.  No one ever wonders if she could be a student, however.  She can only marry one.  She follows Perchik to Siberia to help him in his work with the Communist party, and this perhaps is a matter that is progressive for the times; she can only leave her hometown with/for a man, but she is leaving town, and of her own free will. 

Perchik proposes in the most awkward manner possible, posing an abstract question about the economics of marriage, listing the benefits and bases thereof, to which Hodel keeps adding “And affection.”  Because women are emotional and men are logical. 

When it comes time to break the news to Tevye, who is initially against it, Hodel’s argument is “Papa, please!”  Perchik’s argument is “We’re not asking for your permission.  But we would like your blessing.”  Hodel just goes with it.  If her husband-to-be wants to ditch tradition completely, then so does she.

Chavaleh

Chavaleh commits the greatest transgression of all, running off with a gentile bookworm.  I do like their courtship the best:  “You like books.  I like books.  Here’s a book.  You should read it, and then we can talk about it.”  I feel like that’s going to be me someday.  Anyway.

Chavaleh leaves behind her family, her culture, everything she has ever known, for a man.  Granted, she’s supposed to be like, fifteen. So I’m sure it all makes perfect sense in her mind.  Also, for having maybe five minutes of dialogue, Fyedka has more personality than Edward Cullen.

I should clarify that “compulsory heterosexuality” in Adrienne Rich’s sense is not just a lack of gay characters.  Compulsory heterosexuality is the fairy tale ending, where the men and women are all paired off neatly and no one is supposed to want anything different.  There are no widows, or spinsters, or lesbians.  A woman’s primary relationship is with a man and not a woman  - not her best girl friend or group of friends, not her sister or her mother or what have you.

In “Fiddler,” the one character who escapes compulsory heterosexuality is the matchmaker, ironically, whose function in society is to uphold compulsory heterosexuality.  But I was going to focus on the daughters.

Tevye has five daughters (seven in Rosetown).  Two have fates that are left unknown.  All that we do know is that they move to America, and if Tevye thought he had a hard time holding onto tradition in Anatevka… 

Now, following the logical progression of his daughters’ lives, I have predictions for the last two.  One will remain single.  She’ll go to college and become a lawyer or a business professional.  Or she'll be a crazy artist hippie bum (or whatever the 1905 equivalent is); she’ll do something fulfilling with her life.  And she might go on dates, or have sexual encounters with men, but she won’t settle down and marry one.

The other daughter is going to be a lesbian.

[I checked all the spellings of names on Wikipedia; if I got any wrong I apologize.]

Sunday, July 8, 2012

An (Incomplete) Account of the History of LGBT Characters in Fantasy Fiction

So I've pretty much decided to do a Vito Russo on this whole thing.  I've been trawling book lists on the intenet, and I have over 100 starting in 1962 (well, it's a dystopia).  That's only for gay major characters, though.  Many other books have a small queer presence that you don't notice unless you're twleve years old and desperately searching for some confirmation of your identity.  Most of the following I read before I was out, and I (somewhat subconsciously) kept a mental checklist of every gay character and incident that I read about.

A Brief Timeline of Queer Content in Fantasy Literature

The 70's
1977 - The Farthest Shore, by Ursula K. LeGuin
From everything I know about LeGuin, there's a lot of queer stuff in her books.  I've only read The Left Hand of Darkness (gender-bending aliens) and the Earthsea trilogy (wizards 'n' shit).  The third book in the Earthsea trilogy, The Farthest Shore, has a very strange relationship between Arren, the teenage prince, and Ged, the Archmage who is...I'm not sure how old.  Fiftyish?  The text says quite clearly that Arren is "in love" with Ged.  This is the 70's, so I'm assuming it passed under the radar because people didn't take it literally and nothing sexual happens or is implied.  But it seems to be somewhat reciprocated, as when Arren is captured by slavers, Ged whips out the big magics in a "You don't fuck with my prince" gesture.

The 80's
1983 was a big year.  Diane Duane published So You Want To Be A Wizard, though I never realized the Advisory wizards were a gay couple until I read about it on Tropes.  It was a big "Oh! So that's  why they live together!" revelatory moment.  We also have McCaffery's Pern novel, Moreta, where the implications that riders of green dragons are gay are more or less confirmed.  And finally, Marion Zimmer Bradley's The Mists of Avalon, a feminist retelling of the King Arthur legends (it wasn't that bad, if I recall), has a scene where Arthur, Lancelot, and Guinivere have a threesome, and Lancelot gets a bit preoccupied with Arthur.  Kind of a Big-Lipped Alligator Moment, as it doesn't really add anything to the plot, or develop into a subplot.  And, while I'm at it, I may as well throw in Alanna, by Tamora Pierce.  I need to reread those, but apparently the main character's brother has a thing with the villain (and subsequently turns evil), which got toned down when the publisher decided to market the book For The Children.

1987 - Arrows of the Queen, by Mercedes Lackey
"Look!  Lesbians!" is about all that happens, with regards to the queer content.  Oh, there's some subplot in the end where the one lover dies, and they hook up the survivor with the random girl who had an unrequited crush on her.  Like, right after the first lover dies, and the survivor is in telepathic shock.  There is also a moment when the lesbian character is talking to the main character, and is like "You're chill that we're lesbians, right?"  and the main character's reaction is "Oh yeah, I'm from a patriarchal polygamist society.  We had lots of lesbianism going on behind the men's backs."  So...progressive?  They are out of the closet, at least.

The 90's
1990 - The Eye of the World (Book 1 of The Wheel of Time), by Robert Jordan
These you have to do a close reading for, and I don't think I have time.  A few times, he mentions some of the (all-female) magic users are "pillow friends."  Apparently, that means lesbians.  I don't even remember which ones were, though; no one important.  They're just kind of there.

1993 - Hexwood, by Diana Wynne Jones
Very, very minor, but it's Jones and I love her and I just have to mention it.  There are two "gay boys who run the wine shop" in the town.  And they have an annoying dog.  That's all that's said about them.  They're never given names.  But hey, now we're using the word gay.  And they're not evil or tragic or closeted.  Or important...

1996 - Stone of Tears (Book 2 of The Sword of Truth), by Terry Goodkind
"Look!  Lesbians!" even more than Lackey.  One spends a chapter giving the main character her life story, including a page dedicated to her relationship with another female character (whose backstory is not given, and she subsequently dies tragically in her lover's arms during the Plague Episode). Considering that in Book 1, the one homosexual character was a muderous pedophile, I think this is progress.

1997 - Harry Potter and the Sorceror's/Philosopher's Stone, by J.K. Rowling
Yeah, remember?  Dumbledore is gay.  So, so closeted, though.  You can tell there's subtext in book 7, with Grindelwald.  I thought I was just slashing, but Word of Gay confirmed in '07.  We may have just taken a step back; however, this is a children's book series, and hugely popular, so any presence at all is not to be scorned.
1997 - Sandry's Book (Book 1 of the Circle of Magic), by Tamora Pierce
More closeted children's book characters!  Same with So You Want To Be A Wizard.  I forget if I read about it on Tropes or found out through The Will of the Empress.  I think it was Tropes.  Rereading those books now, there's sort of contradictory subtext.  In Book 1, Lark calls Rosethorn "Rosie" and in Book 2, it's explicity stated that they sleep in separate rooms.  If I had been ten and allowed the possibility that I could grow up and marry a woman, high school would have been a lot less stressful.  And if I had figured this out when I was writing my paper on LGBT content in children's literature my freshman year of college, I could probably have added another page.

The 21st Century
2000 - Storm Front (Book 1 of the Dresden Files), by Jim Butcher
There's a random bisexual hooker in Book 1, and random references to the fact that homosexuality exists throughout the series, though no important characters are actually gay.  Except maybe the vampires.  Still, I appreciate a straight writer acknowledging that homosexuality exists in his universe (our universe), instead of either having a straight universe or a token queer.

2002 - Abarat, by Clive Barker
Clive Barker is the queer Stephen King.  I don't mean gay (though he is), I mean queer.  Stephen King writes staight horror; vampires in Maine, psychic powers at the prom, etc.  Barker writes queer horror, which basically means he's about ten times weirder than King.  A vampire that feeds on time instead of blood, or, as in Abarat, a high-schooler who is whisked away to a bizarre archipelago.  One of the side characters has a male partner and a bunch of dogs.  Probably supposed to be an author avatar, except Barker and his partner broke up while he was writing the third book.  Incidentally, he also had health problems that resulted in a brief coma.  No wonder it took him 9 years to finish book 3.

2003 - Wolves of the Calla (The Dark Tower, Book 5), by Stephen King
And speaking of Stephen King...Father Callahan (of Salem's Lot) is gay!  Ish.  He had an awkward man-crush in his backstory/interimstory.  Interpret that how you will.

2006 - The Book of Lost Things, by John Connelly
I just had to include this right after Dark Tower.  It's a sort of grown-up fractured fairy tale, where a kid (it's not a kid's book) gets whisked into a world of fairy tales and classic literature.  One of the people his meets is Childe Roland of the poem (was it Browning?).  The same Roland that King's Dark Tower series is based on.  And this Roland is gay; he had a thing with a fellow knight who died and so now he's on a quest for...redemption or something.  But gay Roland just makes me lol.

2009 - Best Served Cold, by Joe Abercrombie
I suspect there might be more in his trilogy, but in this stand-alone novel, one of the...villains, I guess...is gay.  Which seems likes a step back, but every character in the book is morally suspect - the protagonist is a mercenary on a vengeance quest.  The villains are all quite well fleshed-out, and no correlation is drawn between the one character's sexuality and his villainness.  In fact, I believe he is a general, so he's a big important gay, which is positive in a way.

2010 - The Last Hunt, by Bruce Coville
Yeah, this one is kind of cheating because no one is actually gay.  There is a beautiful bromance, which I don't count as queer, but since it borders on ho yay, one of the characters actually asks if they are a couple (in a non-homophobic, just curious way).  He gives a "No - not that there's anything wrong with that" answer.  Coville directly addresses the homoeroticism of a bromance...in a children's book!  So which is better?  Having gay characters without saying that they're gay, or having characters who aren't gay explicitly support homosexuality?

Conclusion:  Over the past forty or so years, representations of gay characters in fantasy have become more open.  Even if they are not outed in-universe (and that's mostly just in children's books), the authors have no problem saying their intent.  I would hesitate to claim that representations have become more postitive.  I would say, just from this sample, that they have grown less positive but more realistic.  Not all gay people are morally sound staunch sidekicks, after all. 

It occurred to me the other day that people complain the gay characters always die, but - in fantasy, at least - that might have a closer correlation with the fact that gay characters are always minor supporting characters, who have a higher mortality rate than the main cast or heroes.  The solution, then, would not be to help gay characters live longer, happier lives, but to give them more important roles so that they can have longer, happier lives.  Or have more than just the one token gay.  But, long hours of research and many, many books stand between me and any solid conclusions.

Friday, July 6, 2012

Top 13 (14) Queer Fantasy Novels

As I was going back over my list, and recounting, I realized something.  I was perplexed as to why, even at midnight hopped up on insomnia, I had decided to wedge "The Sword of Truth" onto that list as an afterthought.  I mean, it has the random lesbians, but they're not really important.  Then I realized I had actually written "The Skull of Truth," which is a chapter book by Bruce Coville about a kid who finds a magic skull that forces people to tell the truth.  Leaving it too close to the family dinner table brings a number of shocking family secrets to life, including that his grandmother used to be a stripper and that his uncle is gay.  And as soon as his uncle outs, he realizes he has to get that skull the hell away from there, and so flees the dinner table, making his uncle think that he's really that freaked out, but it's all okay in the end.  And this was written in 1999.  For a gay character - in a kids book no less! - to be out and not have AIDS and be a nice guy who is happily settled with his patner, I give it an A.  It's hard to find books with that good of gay characters nowadays!

Now to continue my original list.

7.  The Magicians and Mrs. Quent (2008) - Galen Beckett
Character:  Eldyn the gay mage tertiary viewpoint character, who isn't really connected to main plot.
Queer Context:  The whole idea of having "male magic" and "female magic" isn't anything new, but Beckett is (as far as I know) the first to also have "gay male magic."  Lesbians, I assume, just count as women.  It is unclear whether all gay men are sons of witches and have illusion magic, or all illusionists are gay men.  In any case, the theaters are run by gay male illusionists. 
LGBTQ-friendliness rating:  B-.  Yes, Eldyn's a positive character, but he doesn't really do anything; he's just kind of there because the author wanted a gay character.  Also, there are the unfortunate implications of all gay men work in the theater.  Plus, Eldyn is just kind of stupid, which is endearing in a Woobie Destroyer of Worlds hero, but makes him an annoying dope as an ordinary (ish) person.

6.  The Steel Remains (2008) - Richard K. Morgan
Characters:  Ringil the ex-hero anti-hero, and Lady Archeth, the half-human magical person tertiary viewpoint character.
Queer Context:  In at least one country (Ringil's) you get killed for being gay, unless, like Ringil, you're too important for them to dare.  Archeth's lesbianism isn't addressed in the context of society, but some king tries to bribe her with a slave girl.  Also, she's half human, so I don't count her as a discount nonhuman lesbian.  The creepy fairy beings, one of which Ringil has a fling with, don't count as gay; I think they are universally pansexual.
LGBTQ-friendliness rating:  C+.  Ringil is supposed to be a dark deconstruction of fantasy tropes, and the author (who is straight) made him gay to add something off about him.  However, he does give a solid queer context for society, and includes a lesbian as well, and I don't know why he decided to make her gay.

5.  Fire Logic (2002) - Laurie J. Marks
Characters:  Everyone, except the token straight couple. 
Queer Context:  Universal pansexuality.  Despite this, most of the main characters end up in same-sex relationships.  To the point where one wonders how the human race manages to reproduce in this world.  Also implied polyamory in some cases, which is just fine in-universe.
LGBTQ-friendliness rating:  B.  The "everyone is gay" aspect gets a little overwhelming, but this book is notable in that same-sex couples will refer to their partner as their "husband" or "wife" (presumeably opposite-sex couples or groups do this as well).  There isn't any sort of ceremony that goes along with it, but the fact that Marks actually uses the words is remarkable.  Even Lackey and Pierce, who try to deal with issues of gay acceptance vs. homophobia, never get into the legal aspects of same-sex relationships. 

4.  Swordspoint (1987) - Ellen Kushner
Characters:  Everyone but the villain is bi.  The main protagonist, Richard, has a male lover, and the secondary viewpoint character, Michael Godwin, sleeps around with everybody.
Queer Context:  No sexual categories.  The villain mentions at one point that he personally isn't in to having sex with men, but it's not a homophobic thing, it's just a personal preference. 
LGBTQ-friendliness rating:  B-.  Taking advantage of the genre to create a world without sexual categories is nice, but not really helpful.  Also, even the "good" guys aren't nice people.  But gay characters not being defined by their sexual orientation is nice, even if Kushner takes that idea to extremes.

3.  Melusine (2005) - Sarah Monette
Character:  Felix, the crazy asshole wizard.
Queer Context:  So it's okay if Monette doesn't say "gay" but not for Lackey?  Well, yeah.  "Molly" is an actual 18th-Century word for gay people, not a Scrabble-bag cop-out.  Also, "Janus" is the two-faced Roman god, or in the Melusine world, a bisexual.  Very few fantasy authors address bisexuality as distinct from homosexuality, if they address it at all (outside of universal pansexuality).  Different countries have different views on homosexuality.  In Marathat it is frowned upon, but tolerated.  In Troia everyone's chill with it - they're ginger fantasyland Greeks.  In Kekropia they kill, torture, or imprison you - they're the hates-everything people.  In Caloxa it's taboo, but not a death sentence.
LGBTQ-friendliness rating:  B+.  Felix is a wonderful jerkass.  There are enough gay molly characters throughout that it doesn't come across as "all gays are jerkasses," but he is the main protagonist.  To be fair, both the protagonists are very well-rounded (not all gays are nice people, after all; sucks to the helpful minority) and it is clear that Felix's abusive tendencies have nothing to do with his sexual orientation.

2.  Eon (2008) - Alison Goodman
Character:  Lady Dela, a male-to-female transgender who acts as a mentor to the crossdresser protagonist.
Queer Context:  Lately it's started to bother me that all the plucky crossdressing princesses are heterosexual.  Historically speaking, if you were a lesbian, you were statistically more likely to be a crossdresser.  Also, the issue of actually being transgender is never mentioned.  The inclusion of a transgender character - male to female, no less! - fleshes out the issues of gender, gender identity, and gender roles in society that the book raises.  Not to mention that Dela's role as a transwoman in her society is seen as something special and awesome by her people, and even though she is currently abroad, she's too important for anyone to give her crap about it.
LGBTQ-friendliness rating:  A.  There are so many books about princesses in pants, but no one thinks to put a penis in a dress.  She is just an awesome strong female character.

1.  Beyond the Pale (1999) - Mark Anthony
Character:  Lots.  Namely, the male lead and hero, Travis, is implied to be bisexual, but rather than hooking up with the female protagonist as every other novel would have him do, he ends up with the knightly sidekick.
Queer Context:  Half(ish) the story is set in our world, the rest is in a typical medieval fantasyland, where homosexuality is frowned upon unless you belong to a certain order of knights where it's almost required.  The gay subtext is very low-key in the first book, but this is the late nineties, so I think Anthony was waiting until he had a contract and no one could do anything about it.  Besides the gay knights, there are also a gay cowboy couple, a gay Brit in the Wild West (during the time-travel episode), a transwoman seeress, an implied bisexual who has a thing with a fairy (part-human; and there are other hints) but ends up with a man, and numerous minor references scattered throughout.
LGBTQ-friendliness rating:  A.  Yes, I'm biased because this is my favorite book series ever.  But Travis is the archetypal dopey hero, and he ends up with a guy, plus a lot of other queerness happening throughout, mostly among the "good guys".  I should have made a separate category for queer presence.  Hm.

Coming up next (I'm not done with gay fantasy yet!):  Incidental homosexuality in fantasy literature.  Those minor characters are not to be discounted!

Thursday, July 5, 2012

(Bottom) Top 13 Queer Fantasy Novels - Part 1

I can't believe I haven't done one of these before.    Then I started putting together a top ten, and realized that I only had 13 to choose from.  So I decided to just include them all

This list consists only of books I have read.  I have not read Fleweling's Lark on the Wing or Hambly's Darkmage, or Duane's Door Into Fire, so I can't judge where to put them on the list.  At some point, if I want to be the fantasy lit Vito Russo, I might track down the rest of the books, but for now, this is what is in my repertoire.

Criteria for "Queer Fantasy":  Must have a queer protagonist or major character.  Queer character must be out in-universe - no Dumbledore.  Also, must be human.  Vampire lesbians are cheating.

13.  City of Bones (2007) - Cassandra Clare
Character:  Alec, the gay sidekick.
Queer Context:  Real world-ish.  There’s an underground clique of demon-hunters, and it’s implied that they would be very not happy if they knew Alec was gay.  He’s kind of a straight gay, and hooks up with the one other gay character in the story, who is a flaming glittery gay mage, after minimal off-page courtship.  They have nothing in common except being the only two gay characters in the story.  Also, the story begins with him having a crush on his stepbrother, the male lead Jace, who gives Alec a pep talk and tells Alec that he isn’t really in love with him, he just likes to torture himself by falling in love with unattainable people.  And the main cast seems to be chill that Alec is gay, but no one overtly supports him, they just see it as a nonissue.  I’d be upset with the way the gay romance subplot was handled, except that the main romance subplot was just as bad; there’s an incest scare, but it turns out it was all a misunderstanding.  That’s the best obstacle you could give their relationship?  That’s totally relatable.
LGBTQ-friendly rating:  B-.  Clare at least tries, and Alec is a positive character, if not actually an accurate representation of anything.

12.  Ash (2009) - Malinda Lo
Character:  Ash, a lesbian Cinderella.
Queer Context:  Queer retelling of Cinderella.  Only I feel cheated because I was expecting her to hook up with a princess, and instead she hooks up with the Huntress, which is a completely created role and not really kosher.  And then she breaks a curse by sleeping with a (male?) fairy thing, which is really not feminist.  I mean, gaining independence from the male presence by submitting to it?  Solving problems with prostitution. 
I don’t remember how people react to their relationship; I think it’s one of those worlds where homosexuality in society is not talked about, and so I have no idea if Ash had any context for understanding her desires. 
LGBTQ-friendly rating:  C+.  There's no context for the lesbian relationship, which makes it hard to relate to.  Also, the end with the fairy.

11.  Wolfcry (2006) - Amelia Atwater-Rhodes
Character:  Oliza, the shapeshifter princess.  Has some really scary genetics, but conveniently ends up in a non-procreative relationship with a woman.  Each book in the series has a different viewpoint character, and this one is hers.
Queer Context:  Not given in the previous three books or even foreshadowed in this one.  Just all of a sudden the princess is gay, and mostly everyone’s fine with it.  Do they allow gay marriage?  What are the social stigmas?  No other characters are gay, and no word for gay is given.  I assume the author knows more than was revealed in the books; she has a wife, and I usually like to know the queer context of anything I write.  Granted, I usually end up with queer characters.
LGBTQ-friendly rating:  B.  Oliza isn't tokenized at all, and it's obvious she was a character first and became queer in the writing.  It's just a little sudden and lacking in context.

10.  Tithe (2002) - Holly Black
Character:  Corny, the gay sidekick.  In later books, his boyfriend Luis, and lesbian sidekick Ruth.
Queer Context:  Real world.  With fairies.  Black is one of those authors who makes sure some of her characters are gay, because some people are gay.  Always the unwaveringly supportive sidekicks, though.  Yay for helpful minorities.
LGBTQ-friendly rating:  B.  Corny was based on Black's gay friends, who are geek-gays and not flaming queens, and he's a fairly well-fleshed out character.

9.  Magic’s Pawn (1989) - Mercedes Lackey
Character:  Vanyel, the only gay Herald who actually does anything interesting.
Queer Context:  Lackey always tries to include a random queer in every book.  Someone once called her out on having way more gay men than lesbians.  She counted them up and said they were actually about even.  However, only two of her queer characters achieve major character status, and both are gay men.  Homosexuality is severely stigmatized by wider society, but any named character who is “good” is fine with it.  Nor are the parameters for the stigma clearly defined; vaguely religious, but considering it’s a massive fantasyland pantheon, you’d think there would be some variation.  Also, this is one of Lackey’s few stories where the protagonist dies at the end, and it’s the gay one.  However, I find her tragedies are at least slightly better than her happy endings.  Oh, and there are the random forest people who seem to be universally pansexual, and a gay couple of the forest people serve a sort of mentor function for Vanyel.  And the other gay major character, Firesong (in later books) is also of the forest people.  The people in “bad” countries are more homophobic than in the “good” countries.
LGBTQ-friendly rating:  C.  Because it's 80's, and preachy.  In the context of the 80's, I would give it an A for effort, though.  And the other major gay is a flaming queen.

8.  The Will of the Empress (2005) - Tamora Pierce
Character:  Daja, the lady blacksmith mage, has a sexual revelation when she is kissed by a woman.
Queer Context:  The first series was originally published in the 90’s.  The characters were ten, but they were being raised by a lesbian couple, who I did not realize was a lesbian couple until I read this book and they directly referenced it.  I wish they had been more out in the earlier books, that I read when I was ten; it would have made my life a lot simpler.  One thing I do like about it is that it includes a queer protagonist by retcon in a children’s book; me reading those books as a child and then reading the later one after coming out was a rather validating experience.  Even though the queer character is like “I had no idea I was gay” and you’d think being raised by a lesbian couple she’d have enough context to figure herself out.  Really, it’s the author deciding to make her gay a decade later when society has progressed enough and it’s in a YA novel.  Because Pierce is another who makes sure to include gay minor characters all the time.
LGBTQ-friendly rating:  B+.  Lark and Rosethorn spent the 90's in the closet, and I resent them for that.  Also, because since the author obviously decided "They've hit puberty!  Let's make one gay!" she decided the butch blacksmith should be a dyke, and not the feisty seamstress or the grouchy bookworm.  I will say, though, I really appreciate the character existing in a non-queer context first; so many gay characters (in fantasy and out) are introduced at puberty when they are struggling with sqhishy hormonal feelings.  Yes, we were once kids too.

Coming soon:  1-7.  What are my favorite gay fantasy novels?

Sunday, July 1, 2012

B-Novels of the Eighties

So for some reason last night I was really craving some shoddy B-Fantasy, to the point where I would have been willing to do embarrassing things to get my hands on a Mercedes Lackey...

What's that?  B-Fantasy?  Oh, it's the same concept as B-movies - formulaic, low production value, flat characters - just with fantasy literature.  Basically, what normal people think of when they think of fantasy, with the teenage protagonist who has to save the world from the Dark Lord and runs all over the countryside learning magic and eating stew.  Etc.

Anyway, since all I brought with me to my apartment was some beautiful magic realism and some weird children's genre-benders, I was stuck.  See, books are like food.  Sometimes you want to go out to a fancy restaurant for steak and shrimp alfredo, or whatever you order (that actually sounds really good right now...) and sometimes you just want to heat up some Kraft mac and cheese in the microwave, because that's what you grew up on, and even if as an adult it disgusts you intellectually, and you can't bear to read the list of ingredients, it just tastes so bad, but so good.

But since I didn't have any to read, I started listing and categorizing and researching to try and pin down what makes B-Fantasy B-Fantasy.  Because apparently when I want mindless entertainment, I have to analyze it.

I started doing a little research, and here are my findings thus far.  Mostly is it some half-assed hypotheses and some Wikipedia trawling, but I intend to reasearch the matter further, I really do.

B-Fantasy was inspired by Tolkien's Lord of the Rings (1954), and augmented by LeGuin's Earthsea trilogy (1968).  From LOTR we get the epic quest, magical macguffin, underdog hero, and Dark Lord.  After Earthsea, the protagonist is allowed to use magic, and magic becomes institutionalized.  However, many other aspects of Eathsea, such as the protagonist aging, did not catch on.  The first Dungeons and Dragons manual was published in 1974, which codified the Fantasyland setting and rules for the narrative.  This I need to look into further, but currently I blame D&D for making every fantasyland need 3races+2 - elf/dwarf/human, and two of the author's own creation; usually one of the extras is evil, and the other is unimportant to the plot.  No one besides Tolkien wrote about the elves until D&D! (needs fact-checking)

1977 saw The Sword of Shannara, by Terry Brooks, and also the Star Wars movie.  I try not to mix fantasy and scifi, but Star Wars has the traditional epic narrative wth the whiny hero that all B-Fantasy uses, and is a potential forerunner.  Shannara had 3races+2, and all the trappings of LOTR, except instead of quiet little middle-aged hobbit protagonist, it had a dopey teenage male protagonist, likely in reflection of the anticipated audience.  It is also serialized; while Tolkien stopped with a trilogy, a prequel, and a manual, if Brooks isn't dead then he's still writing to this day.

Now we come to the 80's, which is the birth of B-Fantasy proper.  David Eddings, I kid you not, saw the emerging market and decided to jump on it for the money - literally, created a formula and cranked out books for profit.  He ditched the races (though they still remained prevalent elsewhere), instead creating a multiracial and paradoxically racially uniform world of humans (everyone of every race is the same as each other member of the race), and added meddlesome deities.  Also, the hero is allowed, in fact required, to use magic.  There is also the annoying crossdressing spunky princess love-interest.  Like Leia but less badass.  Oh, and she hooks up with the teenage protagonist.

1983 - Tamora Pierce sees the spunky crossdressing redhead princess and decides that she needs her own story, thus bringing about the start of feminist fantasy that tries too hard. Also the practice of making fantasyland be America with a medieval veneer, though Eddings hinted at that with Sendaria and I can't believe I remember the name of that country.  Hero's homeland, go figure.  Also has institutionalized magic (school of magecraft and blah blah), rather than random wizards who just float around organically to make plot things happen.  Wizards become working-class.

1984, ten years after the first Dungeons and Dragons manual was published, the Dragonlance  series is born.  It was based off of a D&D campaign.  No, honestly, it was.  We have races, we have quests, we have institutionalized magic and meddlesome deities.  For the most part, they do ditch the dopey farmboy, replacing him with the naive warrior, who is supposed to be all troubled and dark, but is really just naive and angsty.  Also, the focus is more on the quest group than any one hero.  It still has very black-and-white morality.

In 1987 Mercedes Lackey published her first book.  So here we have feminist fantasy, and clique fantasy.  I have to backtrack a little for that.  In 1967, Anne McCaffery started the Dragonriders of Pern  series.  So we have a special clique of people with special powers whose job is basically to be heroes.  This solves the problem of how to keep having the same person solve all the problems; it's their job, because they are telepathically linked to a magical critter.  Because that totally makes sense.

Now we come to the 90's, which may be the Golden Age of B-Fantasy.  Most of these series started in the 80's, but gained momentum throughout the decade and eventually came to dominate the 90's.  There was still some very original stuff in the 80's - Kushner's Swordspoint, Diana Wynne Jones's everything, Suzette Hardin Elgin's Ozark Trilogy about a planet that was colonized by the South and people who ride flying Mules (it's good stuff).  In 1990, however, Robert Jordan published the first book in The Wheel of Time.

What did WoT do that other books didn't?  It's basically the same setup as Eddings' Belgariad.  Teenage farmboy whisked away from his home by a wizard, told it is his destiny by birth to save the world from the newly reawakened Dark Lord, oh yeah and he has magic powers.  All I can say is that Jordan made it bigger (800 pages per volume, minimum), he made it better (the world at least makes slightly more sense and is more memorable than Eddings'), and he made it with love.  He kept writing even when he was dying, because he loved those books so damn much.  And I can tell you a hundred things that make the books awful (don't call me on that, please), but I can at least understand why they are so loved.

Lately, however, there has been a mainstream movement away from B-Fantasy.  Conflicts have become less idealistic, between the innocent and the Evil, and more political, between the jaded older warriors and the forces of society - kind of like the teenage hero grew up.  I won't be able to say much about George R. R. Martin, because I haven't been able to get through more than three chapters, but I think he is the key to this movement.  The current generation of writers grew up on B-Fantasy, and are too jaded with it in today's society. 

Other books like David Anthony Durham's Acacia (2007) have similar political orientations - I can't talk much about this one either because I ran into the same problem as Martin, though in Durham's case the last straw was not "I don't know which of these characters I'm supposed to care about" (though there was an element of that) and more "That is the stupidest fencing lesson I have ever read."  Then there are more direct criticisms such as E.E. Knight's Age of Fire series (2002), which is basically what Wicked did to Oz, only to Dragonlance.  Sure, there are still throwbacks like Eragon (2002), but the mainstream voice of fantasy is shifting from a teenage coming-of-age quest to multiperspective stories of human conflict.  Though in fact this sort of storytelling started in the 80's as well, with the Mannerpunk movement started by Ellen Kushner's Swordspoint.  It did not gain momentum until just recenty, though.

And of course there are all the little splinter genres like Feminist Fantasy, which I touched on a little, and Queer Fantasy (people say that fantasy is really homophobic, but I think that the fantasyland setting actually makes it easier to include gay characters without stigma; again I point to Swordspoint), and I've already ranted about Dragonrider Fantasy, which is actually a subcategory of Animal Companion Fantasy or perhaps as a genre rather than a device, it would fit better under Heroic Clique Fantasy - you have this world where there is this institution of heroes, be they dragonriders or Jedi or what have you, and every book/trilogy is about a different one whose turn it is to save the kingdom/world/continent.  Then there's the Supernatural Ensemble, which I'm not sure belongs in fantasy proper - technically its roots are in horror.

But right now, I still just want to read a magic pony story.