I need to come up for a more concise name for what I'm doing that "Queer Fantasy History Project."
"Tales of Neveryon" is a book by Samuel R. Delany that consists of five tales and an appendix (it's one of those books where the appendix is part of the story). The tales all take place in the same fictional kingdom of Neveryon, a proto-civilization, pseudo-Mesopotamian sword-and-soceryland. The tales share a few characters and in the last tale pulls all the plots together in complicated and interesting ways.
The story behind the story: Neveryon was on my list for vintage queer fantasy I needed to read, and I finally tracked it down at a used bookstore. On that same trip I bought "Nocturne," partly because I have been trying to finish the Indigo books, and partly because I did not want to buy only that book with that cover.
I. The Tale of Gorgik
Gorgik is a slave, who finds favor with a noblewoman (yes, I do mean sex) and ends up not only freed but becomes very successful in the military. Right away you can tell this is not your typical post-Tolkien sword-and-sorcery. There is a lot of class commentary and power relations. Oh, and Delany is African-American. Matters of race and slavery come up a lot in his books. Just saying.
He's also gay, and I heard that there is quite a bit of queer content in the Neveryon books (which is why I tracked it down for the history project). All that I could find from Gorgik was mention of male prostitutes in the scenery, implication that the eunuch servant has sex with men, and implication that Gorgik has sex with a guy, or at least that a guy approached him for sexual favors.
II. The Tale of Old Venn
This is the tale which blew my mind a little. I mean, to all appearances (namely, the scantily clad people on the cover) it's a tpyical 70's sword-and-sorcery book. Then it starts to ask quesions about gender roles and the origin of prejudice and Freudian theory and the effect money has on society. Somehow, it does not come off as didactic, even though the format is mostly an old woman giving lessons to a group of children.
This story is not queer in the sense of homosexuality, but Old Venn does have some stories of her time as a wife in a not-your-typical-polygamist-society. Instead of the women being property of the men, the man is the property of the women; until that sociey was introduced to money, which skewed things into a patriarchy, by ways that really do make sense but are a bit complicated for a blog post.
III. The Tale of Small Sarg
Now it gets gay. Sarg is a barbarian prince, "which meant that his mother's brother wore women's jewelry and was consulted about animals and sickness." Sarg himself also has the opportunity to assume such an office (the barbarians seem to be some sort of matriarchy), but prefers not to.
Then Sarg is captured and sold as a slave to Gorgik. After the sale, Sarg says to his new master "You should have take [sic] the woman. You get her work in the day, her body at night." To which Gorgik replies "You think I'll get any less from you?"
Yep.
Apparently the reason Gorgik bought a slave is because he physically cannot have sex unless one partner is wearing a slave collar. This toes the line between implying that gay sex is really messed up, and bringing up issues of the psychology of power relations.
That's all I have to say on that, except that people who claim that speculative fiction is more homophobic than other genres obviously are not reading the right books. This was not a bromance, or homoerotic undertones. There was very unambiguously sex.
IV. The Tale of Dragons and Potters
I have to bring up an interesting coincidence on this for people who have read The Wheel of Time. There is a character named Bayle who has "an inch of yellow beard, mostly beneath his chin - no real mustache." Granted, he's eighteen. No he does not have a funny accent. Still.
There is also a character named Raven who is...you know your friend whose a rabid man-hating feminist? That's her. She's from an oppressive matriarchy, and at one point tells her people's creation story, which parallels Christianity in odd ways, except that Adam and Eve are both women, and Adam's punishment for original sin is to be turned into " 'man, which means broken woman."
Interestingly, not only are the male characters uncomfortable with this story, but the female as well. A sign of feminism gone too far? Or internalized oppression? Though this is the girl (now grown-up) who listened to Old Venn's stories.
This is also the story where it is revealed that there is no birth-control herb (Tamora Pierce won't be part of the scene for a while).
V. The Tale of Dragons and Dreamers
Most of these issues are brought up in Sarg, but there's not too much to say about this one, so I'm going to talk about the dragons. Dragons in Neveryon are vicious, impractical creatures, tamed only because some lord way back when decided they were pretty. Their riders (yes, they have riders, this is post-McCaffery) are girls - young girls - because they are smaller and therefor lighter. It is also a very high-risk and undesireable job, so the riders are also the delinquent "bad girls" who don't have a choice.
The last tale has Gorgik and Sarg on a violent campaign to end slavery. There is an interesting debate between Sarg and a slave, who explains that their methods are actually counterproductive. Sarg kills him. The slave had a point. But Sarg's rage, his desire to make a change now - that also is understandable.
Also, upon their meeting with Norema and Raven, Gorgik introduces himself and Sarg as lovers. No one really bats an eye at the gender relations.
Appendix: Some Informal Remarks Toward the Modular Calculus, Part Three
The title of this scared me too. In fact, it details the discovery of an ancient text telling the oldest story known to mankind, and the difficulties in translating this. I'm pretty sure it's all made up, but it's very plausible sounding. But when you google "Culhar text," the only links that show up are related to Delany.
Essentially, the point of the appendix is that Delany took inspiration from this story for Neveryon. Or that someone did; I think it might be a story-within-a-story, and that the appendix relates to one of his other books. It's so brilliant, though, because some of the passages from the alleged text have translations that run thus:
Either
1) "the love of the small barbarian slave for the tall man from Culhare."
Or
2) "the love of the tall slave from Culhare for the small barbarian."
Or even
3) "the small love of the barbarian and the tall man for slavery."
Or...all three at once.
So by this point I am quite determined to become a Delany fangirl, because that man is brilliant. He asks so many questions, and doesn't answer a single one, instead forcing you to think about it. In a 1970's sword-and-sorcery novel. This is pre-Brooks/Eddings fantasy at its finest, before the Star-Wars-with-dragons plot became standard and everyone had to invent their own world, and the world you invented explored possibilities and questions that could not be explored in our own world.
Showing posts with label Queer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Queer. Show all posts
Monday, August 6, 2012
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.]
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.]
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 enoughgay 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!
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
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?
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?
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
San Francisco - Final Days
Yeah, I've lost count of how many days I was there. 13, according to the calendar.
Movies:
"Children of Srikandi" - a bold experimental documentary about queer women (lesbian, bisexual, transgender, etc.) in Indonesia. An interesting concept, but poorly executed. Eight different women told eight different stories eight different ways without any sort of explanation of what was going on. It was also scripted. A good documentary, but no "Kuchu."
"Unforgiveable" - a French movie set in Venice about some very tangled relationships between an older man, his younger wife, her ex-girlfriend, and the ex-girlfriend's teenage son. Quirky and fun until the dog gets killed.
"Transgender Tuesdays" - an amateur but well-made documentary about the first public clinic to offer health care and hormones for transgender people. The most enthusiastic audience ever. I think most of them had some connection to the clinic, as it was/is in San Francisco. Lots of good historical background on the trans community as well.
"Wordly Women" - a shorts program featuring lesbian films from all over the world. They were all about sex, or were weird. Or both. I did not feel represented.
"Let My People Go!" - Jewish comedy + French comedy + gay comedy + dysfunctional family comedy = the funniest movie I have ever seen.
"Cloudburst" - an elderly lesbian couple breaks out of a nursing home, aiming for the Canadian border so they can finally get married. A hysterical romp with a bittersweet ending. See, everyone loves crazy old ladies; these ones just happen to be a couple.
Best moment:
I really really wanted a Frameline t-shirt, partly for the memories and partly because the slogan was "Find your story," and I thought that was really appropriate. By the time I actually got around to buying one, though, they were out of smalls and mediums. "Are you a filmmaker?" the woman selling them asked me. I looked down at my camera bag, which I carried with me everywhere.
"Kind of," I answered. "I'm from the University of Wisconsin - Eau Claire..."
The woman thrust a Large t-shirt at me. "Take it," she said. "Don't pay for it. We love you guys, and we really appreciate you coming all the way out here."
So what could I do but take the shirt and thank her as many times as I could?
Pride:
Because this is still a class, our professors told us to think about the concept of power while we were at Pride. I didn't actually make it to the PrideFest, but I was in the Trans March and the Dyke March, and saw the Pride Parade.
The Trans March:
I was shocked at how many people were there. I mean, I care about transpeople, but I didn't realize that so many other people did. And then when the march started, I was completely overwhelmed by the sense of solidarity and activism and pride. It was glorious, even if I did get overstimulated from the crowd.
The Dyke March:
If the Trans March was so wonderful, then the Dyke March should be even better, because these are actually my people, right? No. That was the biggest disappointment the trip. See, I love my gay male friends, and I love my pansexual female friends, but sometimes I feel like I'm the only lesbian in the world. And then when I do encounter lesbians, in books or film or at the Dyke March, I feel no connection. Am I still a lesbian if I don't go to bars and pick up chicks for one-night stands and dance in the street without a shirt? I have not found a single lesbian image that I can connect with, which might be why I sometimes act bisexual; because even though that's not what I identify as, it's who I identify with. Maybe I'm bisexual-sexual.
This is all very confusing.
The Pride March:
In addition to Pride, there is also a group called Gay Shame, and I'm starting to agree with their stance even if I think they really need a new name. OccuPride is another similar group that seems to be doing better, though. Both these groups are against the corporatization of Pride.
Pride disgusts me a little. It's just a big gay block party. And yes, it's great that we can celebrate out identity, and sexuality is inherently sexual, but...let's think about power for a minute. Why do so many corporations have floats in the parade? It's because even though we are a minority and a marginalized population, we have power. Not only buying power ourselves, but we have enough allies that it is for the most part no longer socially acceptable to be a homophobe. It's no coincidence Obama voices support for gay marriage just before election season. He said he supported it the first time he got elected; is he really giving us more than empty words, and are we content to accept them because he says them in his beautiful black Morgan Freeman voice? (I have a joke theory that Morgan Freeman was a catalyst for Obama being elected, because he taught our generation love the sound of a black man's voice).
Now let's go back to gay power. We've come a long way since Stonewall, since reclaiming the streets, since the rage of ACT UP and the AIDS epidemic. It's illegal to kill us and legal for us to have sex, and most of us our content with that. We're complacent. We have some rights, we have our annual party, and we've lost the will to fight for more. We have forgotten that we have power, and we've forgotten how to use it. We used to march for rights, to save our lives and our jobs and our friends, to spur the government to action against AIDS (the political history of AIDS is actually very interesting). Now we march because we can, because we want to get drunk and take our clothes off.
See, what really disgusts me about Pride is not how wildly everyone parties; it's because this is the one time a year people can feel comfortable celebrating being gay, and most of them feel like it is enough. It is because this day manifests 364 days of repression, and what if we could be gay every day? I don't think Pride is enough; I think it's mainstream America trying to appease us. I think it's time we take back our power and use it for marriage reform, immigration reform, global rights, am I forgetting anything? Am I still coherent? I'm not all the way finished with this think, so I might not end up where I intended. I'm not trying to say that you should stop your annual party (though personally I'd be happy with that, but I'm not a partier and I try to respect people who are), but I don't think you should be content with that. That party is a symbol of power, and I don't think you should let that power go during the rest of the year.
Movies:
"Children of Srikandi" - a bold experimental documentary about queer women (lesbian, bisexual, transgender, etc.) in Indonesia. An interesting concept, but poorly executed. Eight different women told eight different stories eight different ways without any sort of explanation of what was going on. It was also scripted. A good documentary, but no "Kuchu."
"Unforgiveable" - a French movie set in Venice about some very tangled relationships between an older man, his younger wife, her ex-girlfriend, and the ex-girlfriend's teenage son. Quirky and fun until the dog gets killed.
"Transgender Tuesdays" - an amateur but well-made documentary about the first public clinic to offer health care and hormones for transgender people. The most enthusiastic audience ever. I think most of them had some connection to the clinic, as it was/is in San Francisco. Lots of good historical background on the trans community as well.
"Wordly Women" - a shorts program featuring lesbian films from all over the world. They were all about sex, or were weird. Or both. I did not feel represented.
"Let My People Go!" - Jewish comedy + French comedy + gay comedy + dysfunctional family comedy = the funniest movie I have ever seen.
"Cloudburst" - an elderly lesbian couple breaks out of a nursing home, aiming for the Canadian border so they can finally get married. A hysterical romp with a bittersweet ending. See, everyone loves crazy old ladies; these ones just happen to be a couple.
Best moment:
I really really wanted a Frameline t-shirt, partly for the memories and partly because the slogan was "Find your story," and I thought that was really appropriate. By the time I actually got around to buying one, though, they were out of smalls and mediums. "Are you a filmmaker?" the woman selling them asked me. I looked down at my camera bag, which I carried with me everywhere.
"Kind of," I answered. "I'm from the University of Wisconsin - Eau Claire..."
The woman thrust a Large t-shirt at me. "Take it," she said. "Don't pay for it. We love you guys, and we really appreciate you coming all the way out here."
So what could I do but take the shirt and thank her as many times as I could?
Pride:
Because this is still a class, our professors told us to think about the concept of power while we were at Pride. I didn't actually make it to the PrideFest, but I was in the Trans March and the Dyke March, and saw the Pride Parade.
The Trans March:
I was shocked at how many people were there. I mean, I care about transpeople, but I didn't realize that so many other people did. And then when the march started, I was completely overwhelmed by the sense of solidarity and activism and pride. It was glorious, even if I did get overstimulated from the crowd.
The Dyke March:
If the Trans March was so wonderful, then the Dyke March should be even better, because these are actually my people, right? No. That was the biggest disappointment the trip. See, I love my gay male friends, and I love my pansexual female friends, but sometimes I feel like I'm the only lesbian in the world. And then when I do encounter lesbians, in books or film or at the Dyke March, I feel no connection. Am I still a lesbian if I don't go to bars and pick up chicks for one-night stands and dance in the street without a shirt? I have not found a single lesbian image that I can connect with, which might be why I sometimes act bisexual; because even though that's not what I identify as, it's who I identify with. Maybe I'm bisexual-sexual.
This is all very confusing.
The Pride March:
In addition to Pride, there is also a group called Gay Shame, and I'm starting to agree with their stance even if I think they really need a new name. OccuPride is another similar group that seems to be doing better, though. Both these groups are against the corporatization of Pride.
Pride disgusts me a little. It's just a big gay block party. And yes, it's great that we can celebrate out identity, and sexuality is inherently sexual, but...let's think about power for a minute. Why do so many corporations have floats in the parade? It's because even though we are a minority and a marginalized population, we have power. Not only buying power ourselves, but we have enough allies that it is for the most part no longer socially acceptable to be a homophobe. It's no coincidence Obama voices support for gay marriage just before election season. He said he supported it the first time he got elected; is he really giving us more than empty words, and are we content to accept them because he says them in his beautiful black Morgan Freeman voice? (I have a joke theory that Morgan Freeman was a catalyst for Obama being elected, because he taught our generation love the sound of a black man's voice).
Now let's go back to gay power. We've come a long way since Stonewall, since reclaiming the streets, since the rage of ACT UP and the AIDS epidemic. It's illegal to kill us and legal for us to have sex, and most of us our content with that. We're complacent. We have some rights, we have our annual party, and we've lost the will to fight for more. We have forgotten that we have power, and we've forgotten how to use it. We used to march for rights, to save our lives and our jobs and our friends, to spur the government to action against AIDS (the political history of AIDS is actually very interesting). Now we march because we can, because we want to get drunk and take our clothes off.
See, what really disgusts me about Pride is not how wildly everyone parties; it's because this is the one time a year people can feel comfortable celebrating being gay, and most of them feel like it is enough. It is because this day manifests 364 days of repression, and what if we could be gay every day? I don't think Pride is enough; I think it's mainstream America trying to appease us. I think it's time we take back our power and use it for marriage reform, immigration reform, global rights, am I forgetting anything? Am I still coherent? I'm not all the way finished with this think, so I might not end up where I intended. I'm not trying to say that you should stop your annual party (though personally I'd be happy with that, but I'm not a partier and I try to respect people who are), but I don't think you should be content with that. That party is a symbol of power, and I don't think you should let that power go during the rest of the year.
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