Following the advice from the elders of the writing life, I blew up my reading repertoire. From reading about femme fatales in Paris to historical queer fiction, I have been devouring books. Recently, I finished A Queer History of the United States by Michael Bronski (wonderful read by the way). What stood out to me was the place and legacy of fiction in queer histories. Pulp fiction, memoirs, autobiographies, and biographies helped archive queerness in the American imagination. It gave me hope and inspiration for my drive to kindle the archive. It reassured me the value of fiction in today’s society seen through the cultivation of representation, self-reflection, and safe spaces.
When I usually think of fiction, I think of escapism; I think of all the times I hopped into other worlds to escape childhood experiences of neglect and abuse. In Michael Bronski’s A Queer History of the United States, he talked about how gay pulp fiction helped queer people understand and explore sexuality and gender. In my own life, as a queer, black woman, I just now read RubyFruit Jungle by Rita Mae Brown, and it would have been so helpful to my self-esteem to have had access to a book like that. The protagonist’s response to anyone’s hatred of her as a lesbian was “I don’t give a fuck.” I wished I had gone through life saying more of that, which highlights the point of why representation matters.
Though the media has taken great strides in representing LGBTQIA, more representation is always needed. While I celebrate Molly’s kickbutt attitude, the protagonist of RubyFruit Jungle, I also liked the wide range of experiences she went through such as dating older, queer women, dating black women, and navigating school, work, and family relationships as a lesbian. I want more of that. It felt nourishing to me to find some of my own experiences reflected back at me. It had me crying on a shitty bus ride home from Austin.
Fiction serves as an effective coping mechanism, but as a tool for deep reflection and understanding. During the impact of Hurricane Beryl, I’ve had a lot of time to reread some of the books on my shelves. One of them was the Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller. It’s the power retelling of the Iliad, but through the romance between Patroclus and Achilles. Through explorations of challenges to masculinity, the cultivation of romance through turbulent times, and the flaws that get in the way, I found a lot of reflection of my own relationship with my wife. Fictional romance helps me understand the dynamics of my own relationship like what makes it work, why we chose each other, and how we can support each other through a difficult time.
Fiction has served an important role in American culture. It reflects culture, understanding, and diverse experiences. It continues to serve the same role. Therefore, it is with great pleasure that I encourage the consumption of queer fiction authors, including myself (you can head on over to the books section and see what's there). You just might learn new things about yourself, or at the very least meet a like-minded character.
References:
Bronski, Michael. A Queer History of the United States. Beacon Press, 2011.
Brown, Rita Mae. Rubyfruit Jungle. Bantam Books, 1988.
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