The LGBTQ+ Fiction on my Shelves (and why this is a problem)
In honour of LGBT+ History month, I thought I would make a list of all the titles I love most that concern themselves with this theme. I thought it would be difficult to narrow down my collection to an acceptable list length, but it turns out that I only have a meagre offering to begin with. In full confession, I even omitted a few, not as censorship which more than one of these authors listed here have had to deal with but, because I think they depicted negative connotations of homosexual love written by authors who don’t suitably represent the pride and struggles of the LGBT+ community (not to stereotype but here’s looking at you elderly cis white men).
Here are some of my favourites with a self-deprecating rant at myself at the end…
Fun Home By Alison Bechdel
Bechdel has written a memoir in the form a graphic novel. She uses Fun Home (short for the funeral home she lives in which feels neither fun nor like home) as an entertaining way of expressing the immense difficulties she had growing up as a lesbian with a repressed homosexual father. I have previously expressed my delight in connecting humour and trauma in my review of Alan Davies’ memoir.
I’m not going to pretend that I read a lot of graphic novels but when I do I enjoy them immensely – I mean, who doesn’t love the reprieve of looking at pictures instead of words now and again? Bechdel is both the author and illustrator and she does both flawlessly. The cartoons seem to move across the pages with the words emphasising rather than overshadowing them.
The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller
I have read both the Iliad and the Odyssey* and I believe Miller’s lyrical prose transcends Homer’s original epic poem. She has translated the Iliad into a love story between Achilles and Patroclus, two utterly flawed Greek heroes. It is widely debated whether the myth intended for the two to be more than friends, but Miller has written something so unique to the original that it doesn’t matter.
If you love the magic of myth and fantasy but find the original versions a little stale, then this book is for you. The good news is that Miller has written a second book, Circe!
The lights in the background are from an exhibition at the Tate and I have more pictures for you here!
*For an amazing translation of the Odyssey (with the Iliad upcoming) try Emily Wilson, the first woman to translate the whole poem into English.
The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin
This is a science-fiction novel that explores some very complicated themes using extra-terrestrial worlds and their inhabitants to convey them in a fantastical way (which could be considered as a way to make it seem less controversial to the mainstream). Ai, the human, for various reasons becomes an intergalactic immigrant in Gethen where their inhabitants are ambisexual, taking on either or neither gender, affecting their intricate societal system.
Le Guin tackles conventions, interrogates them and questions the norm. She tells a love story between Ai and Estraven, a Gethenian, which, for 1969, could be paralleling the idea that international marriage was frowned upon. This was published around the time my Grandma, Malaysian, married my Grandpa, British, which both families disapproved of.
Lunch Poems by Frank O’Hara &
Come Close by Sappho
O’Hara is such an assured poet and was a known homosexual in a time where it was publicly shamed. He had an enjoyment for life that bursts forth from his poems, absorbing music and art to inform his writing which concerned the now rather than the past.
Sappho was actually gifted to me by a teacher after writing an A-Level essay about willies. If you haven’t already guessed, Sappho is the origin of the word Sapphic and the word lesbian comes from the island Lesbos which is where this ancient Greek poet is from. Her writing about goddesses is beautiful in a way that I think a lot of male Greek authors could be a bit undeveloped.
The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde
An unsurprising addition to my list, as most students own this book. What has interested me is Wilde’s history. It wasn’t until I was researching Gide (author of The Counterfeiters, a French novel that I chose to omit for the following reason) that I came across the term ‘pederast’.
Gide and Wilde were buddies and engaged with sexual relations with underage boys. I use the term underage very loosely as there was no age of consent at this time and it is unclear exactly what age these boys were. Going forwards, I will attempt to separate art from the artist… And for those that are able to join me a star-studded cast has just been announced for a contemporary, digitised performance of this novel - details of which can be found here.
The problem that became apparent to me when looking through my bookshelves is my limited selection of LGBT+ literature. I tried to excuse myself by saying that I usually buy my books at second-hand stores and charity shops but excuses are not good enough. Also, these are all American or English literature! As a Comparative Literature student, I thought I’d be better at decolonising my LGBT+ book collection. This collection is not to be dismissed for its importance and influence throughout the history that this month celebrates but it is the newer, more representative books which should be taking up space on my shelves.
For a list of upcoming LGBT+ reads this year, take a look here. In particular, once my lockdown budget allows, I am looking forward to purchasing Detransition, Baby which is the first book to be published by the Big Five (publishing houses) by a trans author - a first step in terms of representation in the mainstream.
For more information visit https://lgbtplushistorymonth.co.uk/