Lesbian Historic Motif Podcast - Episode 32 (previously 17c) - Book Appreciation with T.T. Thomas
(Originally aired 2017/12/16 - listen here)
This week our author guest for this month, T.T. Thomas, talks about some books and authors she particularly enjoys. We also chat about the challenges that authors of lesbian historical fiction face in enticing readers within the lesfic community and the misconceptions many readers hae about the stories that can be told.
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(Transcript commissioned from Jen Zink @Loopdilou who is available for professional podcast transcription work. I am working on adding transcripts of the existing interview shows.)
Heather Rose Jones: So, T.T. Thomas, who we interviewed last week, has returned to the Lesbian Historic Motif Podcast for our book appreciation segment, to share her love for some other stories that have been set in history.
T.T. Thomas: Hi there.
H: Hello! So what book would you like to talk about today?
T: Well, actually, if I may, I’d like to talk about a couple of them. I’m a big fan of Caren Werlinger, having read her Miserere, which I absolutely love and did review. I like that book. I also like her other book, In this Small Spot, and there was another one called, Neither Present Time. And I think she’s working on some fantasy things right now.
H: Yeah, she told us about it in the interview I did with her last month.
T: Right, right, but Miserere set the tone for me and, you know, made me realize she’s an incredibly accomplished writer.
H: Tell us what specifically you enjoyed about the book.
T: I liked the juxtaposition of historical events with current events. And I liked the religious references, and I love her characters, her settings of course, another person who completely wows me with her settings is Susan Gabriel. Her books are, you know, I laugh a lot. Temple Secrets, True Luck Summer, and… The original one I read of hers, which was The Secret Sense of Wildflowers. She writes southern fiction.
H: What sort of historic settings does she use, because I’m not familiar with her?
T: She uses a combination of the 1930s and the present. They’re generational. So, people remember things. Another one I like, nobody ever talks about, but I loved her book: Elena Graf, Occasions of Sin. It takes place in the period of time between the two world wars. Again, beautifully written. I like Victoria Avalon’s A Small Country About to Vanish, about her home country of Israel. I mean, there’s so many people. I’m a big fan of Patty G. Henderson. I’m a fan. I’m a big reader. I really run the gamut, there’s nothing, there’s no genre that I will not read, even though I write historical. I wish I could say the same for all the readers of contemporary, I wish they would read historical more.
H: Well, that’s what this part of the podcast is all about is to tell our listeners about wonderful historic books that we think they ought to try.
T: Yah, I really think that people would be amazed if they… History must have been a dreadful subject for most people in school because the thing I’ve heard the most is, “I don’t want to read about how women, because women were maltreated, poorly treated in that period of time.” But you see most of us write about women who defied all of that.
H: Well, and I think the other part of that is that every novel tends to be about exceptional people. When somebody writes a historic novel about straight people, they’re not talking about the 99% of people who had miserable lives and died young of diseases.
T: Oh, you’re absolutely correct! I don’t think anybody can quite deal with the present the way historical fiction, historical romance, historians, deal with the past. Because we lack the perspective in a contemporary setting. I do also, as I said, I love and I like the contemporary writers, but the historical has a big place in my heart.
H: And I think that there’s an importance to having books set in history that fall between, what was the phrase, “Life being short, brutish, and nasty.” That stereotype of history, versus completely fantasizing it and inventing sunlight-and-roses-and-daisies history that isn’t any more true. I think there’s a broad space between that to tell stories about people who struggled, women who struggled to find happy lives, but who succeeded as well as anybody did.
T: Well, that’s right. I think the thing is though, that separates those women from other women is their own sense of identity and their sense of self-awareness. Those are two traits that the modern-day person can surely identify with. That’s what makes those women in the historical context, whether it’s history or fiction about history, so exciting. Because they did have a sense of themselves and they were self-aware. They knew what they felt and that is, I think, the crux of living.
H: If I’m remember correctly, the idea of doing these interviews for the podcast came out of a conversation that you were involved with on a Facebook group where we were trying to convince people to give historical fiction a try. To say, you know, it isn’t what you think it is.
T: One thing that I’ve enjoyed, what made it interesting to me, is to match the lesbian historical timeline, at least as far as we know it, with the world historical timeline. When you do that, you set those in a parallel universe with one another, you begin to see the incredible amount of sense of life, courage, bravery, imagination, that these women had. Yes, to overcome the culture and society in which they lived, but also to push it forward into the next decade and the next century and that’s quite a feat, when you can do that. And that’s what the women that I write about, what I want them to do. I want them to make breakthroughs, because I know such women did exist thanks to modern scholarship. What we know about people like Anne Lister and Butler and Ponsonby.
H: Yeah, and historic fiction is a way that we can share that knowledge and that understanding with our readers. So, thank you very much for, Tara, for coming on the show and sharing your love for historic fiction and for a few books in particular.
T: Oh, you’re very welcome, thank you, thank you for having me.
In the Book Appreciation segments, our featured authors (or your host) will talk about one or more favorite books with queer female characters in a historic setting.
In this episode T. T. Thomas recommends some favorite queer historical novels:
Links to the Lesbian Historic Motif Project Online
Links to Heather Online
Links to T.T. Thomas Online
The down side of deciding to blog all the articles in a collection like this is that sometimes there simply isn't anything useful to the project at all. Sorry. This is pretty much just a completist placeholder.
Freccero, Carla. 2011. “The Queer Time of the Lesbian Premodern” in The Lesbian Premodern ed. by Noreen Giffney, Michelle M. Sauer & Diane Watt. Palgrave, New York. ISBN 978-0-230-61676-9
A collection of papers addressing the question of what the place of premodern historical studies have in relation to the creation and critique of historical theories, and especially to the field of queer studies.
Freccero, Carla. 2011. “The Queer Time of the Lesbian Premodern”
This article is all about theories about theories and didn’t really have any comprehensible content I could summarize. Sorry.
I've updated the call for short story submissions for the Lesbian Historic Motif Podcast to include detailed information on how to submit and submission format. Remember that submissions will only be accepted during the month of January 2018. I'm looking forward to seeing what people send me!
Last week I posted my "what have I published in 2017" list. This week is my "what else have I written" list. It's based pretty much entirely on my blog for logistical reasons. I'm writing this about the same time of year as I posted last year's version, so the survey is roughly comparable, except that in 2016 I looked at only the calendar year up to Dec 8, and this year I'm covering everything since that date. So the 2017 stats are, while more accurate for a year's work, are inflated relative to 2016. In 2016 I posted 333 separate blog entries; So far as of Dec 6 I’ve posted 245, so even with the rest of December I'm definitely achieving my New Year's Resolution to slack off a little.
This is, once again, an excercise in reminding myself how productive I've been overall, even when my fiction publications don't reflect it. I've clumped things slightly differently, but I'll give the comparables. In summary, here's what I've blogged:
Essays
Misc.
Lesbian Historic Motif Project
Reviews
So here's the long version with links, perhaps not organized exactly as above.
Fiction
Writing - This doesn’t include all entries, just substantial essays
About Alpennia - Essays that are more specifically about the worldbuilding in the Alpennia series
Guest Blogs - both as host and guest
Miscellaneous Content - In any classification system, there's always an "everything else" category.
LaForge Civil War Diaries and Correspondence - An ongoing project to put my great-great grandfather's Civil War diaries and correspondence on the web, with annotations and commentary. Never fear, I will get back to working on this.
Note: the preceding are revisions and annotations of transcripts I had posted on the web prior to starting this blog series. The content between January-April 1864 was blogged in 2016. The rest here was put on the web for the first time as part of this blogging project.
Lesbian Historic Motif Project - I took a slight hiatus from posting new publications during the period when the content was being moved to alpennia.com. That was when I worked on all the tag annotations and standardization. It cut down a little on the total number of publications I would otherwise have covered. You may notice that I've done several thematic groupings: encyclopedias and who's-whos, Sappho, Spain.
Lesbian Historic Motif Podcast - Last year, this was a brand new category of "things I do." This year, on the 1-year anniversary of the show, I expanded from monthly to weekly. In 2018, I'll be expanding the type of content by adding the publication of original fiction. I'm almost afraid of what will come in 2019!
Reviews: Books/Fiction - SFF - I swear it's utter coincidence that all the author surnames are in the first half of the alphabet!
Reviews: Books/Fiction - Lesbian (generally I've classified a book here if I read it specifically for the lesbian characters, even if it also fits under SFF).
Reviews: Live Performance
Reviews: Movies - I watched a lot more movies than this. This isn't even the ones I liked, necessarily. Just the ones where I got inspired to review before the moment passed.
Review-Like-Objects: Misc
The Great November Book Release Re-Boot - This was a project I used as an excuse to re-promote Mother of Souls. Every day in May, I blogged about a book released 6 months previously that I thought my readers might be interested in. Note: I've read very few of these books, so while I was picky about what I included, inclusion is not necessarily advocacy.
Travel Posts - Not quite "con reports" in this case. The Helsinki/Worldcon posts are a combination of con report and travelogue. The Kalamazoo posts are my usual live-blogging of the sessions I attended.
Helsinki/Worldcon
Kalamazoo Posts
I can tell where my deepest loyalties lie within the post-modernist/historicist divide when I encounter articles like this one. At heart, although I think that a passionate involvement with one's subject of study can be a good thing, when monitored carefully, I'm suspicious of that passionate involvement being considered part of the subject of study. The author here discusses a hypothetical modern reader's interpretation of a hypothetical medieval person's hypothetical erotic interactions with the act of writing...and at that point I consider the topic to be an exercise in poetics, not in history. But that's just my take, of course.
Farina, Lara. 2011. “Lesbian History and Erotic Reading” in The Lesbian Premodern ed. by Noreen Giffney, Michelle M. Sauer & Diane Watt. Palgrave, New York. ISBN 978-0-230-61676-9
A collection of papers addressing the question of what the place of premodern historical studies have in relation to the creation and critique of historical theories, and especially to the field of queer studies.
Farina, Lara. 2011. “Lesbian History and Erotic Reading”
[The following is duplicated from the associated blog. I'm trying to standardize the organization of associated content.]
I can tell where my deepest loyalties lie within the post-modernist/historicist divide when I encounter articles like this one. At heart, although I think that a passionate involvement with one's subject of study can be a good thing, when monitored carefully, I'm suspicious of that passionate involvement being considered part of the subject of study. The author here discusses a hypothetical modern reader's interpretation of a hypothetical medieval person's hypothetical erotic interactions with the act of writing...and at that point I consider the topic to be an exercise in poetics, not in history. But that's just my take, of course.
# # #
Farina considers the tension between being a “passionate reader” of a text and being aroused by the act of reading, particularly for gay and lesbian readers whose lives are already hypersexualized by society. But she argues for the need for “erotic reading” in lesbian history. She discusses the concept of erotic reading especially as a counter to “received” non-erotic understandings of texts, for example, comparing erotic reading to “wonder” or “startlement” which are derided by literalist forces in historic studies. “Erotic” interaction with texts includes not just the act of reading but the act of writing--the tools and materials, such as manipulating a “phallic” pen. Another example would be devotional texts that encourage the reader to meditate on sensory experiences. Or texts that dwell on the experience or contemplation of love/desire.
Lesbian Historic Motif Podcast - Episode 31 (previously 17b) - Interview with T. T. Thomas - transcript
(Originally aired 2017/12/09 - listen here)
Back around a year ago, there was a discussion on a facebook group about what authors could do to raise the profile of lesbian historical fiction and to encourage more people to try the genre. That discussion was part of what inspired me to add author interviews to the podcast. And T.T. Thomas was one of the brainstormers, so naturally I asked her if she'd be interested in participating. This month she tells us about her historic passions, her interests. and her projects.
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(Transcript commissioned from Jen Zink @Loopdilou who is available for professional podcast transcription work. I am working on adding transcripts of the existing interview shows.)
Heather Rose Jones: Hello, this is Heather Rose Jones with the Lesbian Historic Motif Project. Today, we’re interviewing author T.T. Thomas, who also goes by Tara.
T.T. Thomas: Hi there!
H: And we’re going to talk a little bit about your historic fiction. I’ve been browsing through your catalog and I notice you’ve got a favorite era right around the turn of the… You know, I don’t know if we call it the turn of the 19th century or the turn of the 20th century. I guess it’s the turn of the 20th.
T: The turn of the century anyway.
H: Yes, yes. Right around 1900, plus/minus.
T: Right, late 1900.
H: How did you get interested in that particular period?
T: Well, several things. I got interested in, well, things were changing in a very big way in the world during that period of time with the results of the industrial revolution were being felt in the areas of technology, transportation, education, just about every subject… We were moving from the Victorian era into the Edwardian era, so I actually start usually around 1890, particularly 1895 to the end of that decade.
H: Uh huh.
T: Queen Victoria died, I think, what was it 1902? Everything changed. Warfare changed, beginning with the Boer war, which was an English conflict in South Africa, or one that they got into. Then, with the beginning of WWI, it changed again. Basically, I write anything from 1890-1950, but specializing in the end of the 1900s through WWI and WWII.
H: Yeah. Times when everything is changing like that are really fun to set stories in, I know.
T: They are, I mean, even the time between the two wars, particularly in Germany, is a fascinating time, prior to the rise of Hitler and the Nazis and the whole ‘How WWII came about.’ Anyway, that period of time there’s a lot of activity taking place in the world. In particular, the world of women is changing at this time. That fascinated me. I originally became very interested in the person of Anne Lister. She actually lived a century earlier, late 1700s. I think she died in 1840.
H: Yeah, thereabouts.
T: Right, but there was a woman who lived life her own way. We wouldn’t know a thing about it, because she kept diaries in a code. A distant relative found the diaries, was encouraged to burn them after he broke the code and realized what the books were about. She loved women, she was very explicit in her diaries about her romances with women and there were numerous women. Then he didn’t burn those diaries, what he did was he hid them behind a panel of the family estate. Flash forward to the 1980s and a woman comes along named Helena Whitbread, who decides that her project is going to be to decode these diaries. She wrote a book about it called I Know My Own Heart. A modest review of what she had decoded.
H: There’s a second volume that she did as well, titled No Priest But Love.
T: Exactly.
H: Yeah, those diaries are so inspiring in terms of sources for historic research.
T: They really are, they really are. I would say that that single, well both women, Anne Lister and Helena Whitbread, were incredibly inspiring to me.
H: Although, I have to say Anne Lister was not necessarily a nice person.
T: No, no she wasn’t. She was a crotchety old bitch, but she was very…
H: Very human.
T: Yeah, very intelligent, very familiar with the classics, and would often entice a woman that she had met with some somewhat vague reference to a line in one of the Greek or Roman classics that revealed where she was coming from. I mean, she found a way. That has always intrigued me, but until I heard about Anne Lister, the only other women I had heard of were, I’m going to say this wrong, the Ladies of Llangollen.
H: [demonstrates the Welsh pronunciation of Llangollen]
T: Anyway…
H: It’s tricky.
T: Eleanor Butler and Ponsonby. I love what Jeanette Winterson says, that those two ladies, they lived in a haze of female virtue and deep friendship. As opposed to Anne, who pulled on her trousers each morning and went out into the world, because she had money and she had an independent mind as she lived her life. Those two sets of people were specifically very inspiring. Thirdly, I would say that I’ve done a great deal of research on Queen Victoria. I wanted to know where everything came from.
H: Uh huh. What other sources of historic research have you enjoyed using? I mean, the lives of the women are very inspiring, but for looking up setting and details of the history…
T: Yeah. A lot of it, Heather, I get from journals of professional societies, like the historians or the geographers or the sociologists. A lot of what I do turns around language, so, believe it or not, the OED is a really great source of research to me.
H: I noticed that letters and correspondence are a major theme carrying across several of your books. Have you studied historic correspondences to get inspiration for that?
T: Yes, I have. I’ve studied in the sense of fiction, but also in real life correspondence. When first started thinking about publishing, I got to know another author named Ann Herendeen. She wrote a book called Phyllida and the Brotherhood of Philander. She made reference to a site online in her forward about the man who has done a great deal of research on the old bailey transcripts, the courts in London.
H: Oh, I love court records.
T: Yeah, yeah, and I just got so involved reading these court cases. Including several cases of women who posed as man and wife, the discovery of it, the outrage, and the… whatever the response was. It often wasn’t the apparent lesbianism that got such people intro trouble, it was because they had some kind of domestic disagreement.
H: Yeah, yeah. I promise that we’re going to come around to the specifics of your novels.
T: Okay.
H: But I was also interested in the settings that you’ve used. You know, you’ve got stories set in America and in England and the one that’s coming out soon in Morocco.
T: Right, England and Morocco.
H: I was wondering what your own background is, I don’t like to make guesses based on people’s accents, but you sound solidly American.
T: I am; however, I was born in England, outside London in a small little village called Tadley in Hampshire. My mother was Irish, and my father was an American officer, flight officer, in WWII. Then I was born, but because of my father’s citizenship, of course, I was American, and I was educated here in the United States, in Illinois in fact.
H: I was looking at, specifically, there’s a pair of stories that you have, the first one, The Blondness of Honey, which, I think, starts out, or its set, in the San Francisco area?
T: Yes, it is, uh huh.
H: And that’s in the 1890s, so before the big quake, but during the big boom of the San Francisco era.
T: Right, that’s right. The women in this story attend Mills college.
H: Oh, that’s so cool.
T: Right, which is in Oakland, my wife is from the Bay Area, so I had lot of… I had a beta, I had a guide. I had a guide for a lot of that. Some of it takes place on Point Reyes peninsula. Some of in the city, meaning San Francisco…
H: Can you give us a sort of a plot synopsis of what happens in that story?
T: We have our main protagonist and she has a childhood friend and they are attracted to one another. This is, as you say, 1895 or whatever. It’s really an Odyssey. It’s a great big book that takes everybody all the way across the country to Boston and back to Chicago and there is another woman involved. It’s about how the women dealt with the phenomenon of same-sex attraction against the backdrop of what was going on historically in this country. This was also a period of time where we had the Columbia Exposition in Chicago, the World’s Fair, and I wanted to make it a saga. You know, first book, I had to write war and peace, right? (laughter)
H: (laughter) It looked to me, based on the description, and I apologize that I haven’t read your entire oeuvre.
T: I apologize that I can’t remember the plot! (laughter) Kidding.
H: (laughter) There’s a story, Vivian and Rose, that it says the framing of that story is that it is being written by one of the characters from The Blondness of Honey.
T: Exactly. This was a novella that I actually wrote before The Blondness of Honey, but I didn’t publish before. It’s in the first-person, which is tricky, a lot of it, again: letters, notes, the kind of thing I like to do, that kind of correspondence.
H: Reading the description of it, it talks about mistaken identities, and abductions to Barbados, and it sounded to me like it was one of those over-the-top gothic novels like Jane Austen juvenilia. That the idea of it being written by your character gave you the freedom to make it really over-the-top.
T: And it was, it was over the top. It’s very dramatic and, I mean, heart-on-sleeve, yah, abduction, Barbados, New York… I packed a lot into a small book. Yes, and it was because it was being written by someone who was a writer at the turn of the century, that century.
H: Yeah, it really had that echo to it.
T: Yeah, and it has that feel when you read it. At least, I hope it does.
H: So, the book that I think I was first aware of your name in connection with is A Delicate Refusal…
T: Yeah, uh huh, that’s one of my favorites.
H: That’s the WWI, England, and two women who have a somewhat unusual type of relationship in the context of the book.
T: Yes. I introduce, without calling it this, the concept of a demisexual. Back in the days prior to WWI, after and during WWII, the worst thing that could be said about a woman is that she was frigid. It took us until now, I guess, to understand, or in the last twenty years, that is not the case. That it’s not some kind of an ailment.
H: Let’s define that for our listeners. A demisexual is someone who feels desire only after they’ve fallen in love, to put kind of in a short-hand.
T: That works. What I did is that I created this completely over-sexed [character] and had her falling in love with someone who is basically a demisexual. They are so flummoxed by this attraction. Oh and, by the way, the second woman is married.
H: As one was.
T: Yeah, ha! They’re neighbors. What happens, basically, is that they both almost have a nervous breakdown in response to their own relationship. The one who is completely sexually typical is suddenly going blind, sort of.
H: That sounds an awful like the old wives’ tale about what makes you go blind. Was it meant to be symbolic that way?
H: Yes, yes, yes, yes. Yes, it was. Yes, it was. Thank you, you’re the first person who seems to have noticed that. Anyway, the other one becomes partially and intermittently paralyzed. Has trouble walking, standing, it would be what certain psychologists from certain areas would have called sexual hysteria. Socially it was called frigid, frigidity. The women who had the bear the brunt of these diagnoses suffered quite a bit. It would take someone like the other neighbor to break her out of it. This is their story. Again, against the backdrop of the eve of WWI. Well, I had to get rid of the husband, for one thing.
H: So, you send him off to war, huh?
T: (laughter) I had to get rid of a couple of people.
H: Reading the descriptions of your books, I get that sense that your books are kind of on the sexy side, is that fair to say?
T: Yeah, but it’s like no body parts, I mean, I am the queen of the metaphor when it comes to the actual sexual encounter. I don’t do fade-to-black, but I don’t name body parts either, for the most part. That was a conscious decision because of the era in which I am placing these people.
H: That’s always tricky, you know. What would a 19th century woman have called what she was doing?
T: Right. I mean, the Victorians were far more adventuresome than they were given credit for being, but the language of their liaisons was very metaphoric. To bring this full-circle, I start out with someone like Anne Lister, you know, who writes in code, and I end up with people who speak in metaphors.
H: I would like to move on to your newest book, because by the time this interview goes live, it looks like Mistress of Mogador will be out in print.
T: Yes, it will be.
H: That looks like quite an adventure story.
T: It is an adventure story. It’s basically the story of a woman who trades inheritances with her brother. He gets the estate, she gets the shipping company. He’s driven it into the ground and it’s almost bankrupt and she has to salvage it. It’s fine with her. It’s her adventure. She goes to Morocco.
H: And gets involved with a Berber woman…
T: Yes, a Berber woman, who works for a Jewish man who works for the sultan. She has these three ratty old ships and she meets this Berber woman who seems to know, before she does, that there is a chemistry going on.
H: What’s the challenge of writing a character for a setting that’s so very different from your own? When you were writing about Morocco and Moroccan culture, what are the difficulties…?
T: Huge. Huge! I don’t speak Arabic, I had to… It’s taken me almost three years to do the whole thing. The Berbers have always tried to maintain their own culture against the backdrop of having been the conquered. I had to do a lot, a lot of research. Again, there are quite a few Moroccan researchers who write in English, Arabic, and French, so I was using Google translate quite a bit. I can sort of stumble through French. It was fascinating. I had a fabulous time writing this book.
H: If people want to learn more about you or follow you in social media, where should they go?
T: For my website, it’s www.ttthomas.com.
H: And I’ll put all this in the show-notes so people can find it easily.
T: On Facebook, I have TT Thomas-Author. I don’t use that much because I actually interact with a lot of people, so I just have my TT Thomas. I’m very available on that.
H: Twitter? Blogging? Any other platforms?
T: I do twitter, but it’s mainly political and I’m not blogging right now.
H: Okay, well thank you very much for coming on and letting me interview you for the Lesbian Historic Motif Podcast. I hope you’ve enjoyed the experience.
T: I have, Heather. Thank you so much for inviting me, and it’s been fun. Thank you.
Show Notes
A series of interviews with authors of historically-based fiction featuring queer women.
In this episode we talk about:
Links to the Lesbian Historic Motif Project Online
Links to Heather Online
Links to T.T. Thomas Online
Here I am on my usual review day without any reviews lined up (though I may do movie reivews of "Battle of the Sexes" and "Coco" at some point). So I thought I'd reprise a feature I did last year. This is not a "best of" list. This isn't even a "best of what I consumed" list. No claim is made that the items on this list have an objective value over any other items I might have placed on the list. But these are 20 items--grouped into 4 general categories of 5 items each--that I blogged about and that have stuck with me for some reason.
Five Favorite Works of Fiction
Five Favorite Books/Articles Blogged for the Lesbian Historic Motif Project
Five Favorite Podcasts Recorded for the Lesbian Historic Motif Podcast
Five Favorite Unexpected Discoveries
Last year's "20 favorite things" was primarily drawn from reviews of various mediums, but this year I didn't review that many things outside fiction. So when I looked over my "what have I blogged about" list, I was tempted to make the fourth category "essays on writing and about Alpennia." But that felt like it made this set of lists a bit too me-centered. So instead, here are five things that share my experience of discovering something new or unexpected.
What favorite things did you experience this year?
While reviewing and proof-reading the write-up for this article just prior to posting, the following phrase--though not the main point--struck me. "...premodern lesbians were part of the audience for culture and responded to that culture on an individual as well as a collective basis." When I brainstorm lesbian historic fiction, this is one of the concepts I keep constantly in mind. Whether or not my characters had access to an in-person familiarity with other women in same-sex relationships, what did they experience in the culture around them that could help them understand their feelings and desires? If they saw an allegorical painting of Jupiter-as-Diana making love to Callisto, if they watched a play where a character they knew to be female received the romantic advances of another woman while in male disguise, if they listened to a poem about Sappho enjoying the love of "Lesbian lasses", could those things shape their construction of their own sexuality every bit as much as real-life examples could?
The concept of queer identity as socially constructed (or at least the concept that the specific forms it takes is socially constructed) is something of a contentious point for those who feel their own desires to be innate and inherent (to say nothing of the potential political implications). But when looking at historic cultures where we find it difficult to find evidence for in-person lesbian subcultures, we shouldn't neglect the importance of how cultural expressions can create a meta-subculture every bit as important in grounding a person's understanding of sexuality as in-person interactions can be. (After all, consider how many women in recent decades first twigged to their interest in other women from watching Xena: Warrior Princess!)
Laskaya, Anne. 2011. “A ‘Wrangling Parliament’: Terminology and Audience in Medieval European Literary Studies and Lesbian Studies” in The Lesbian Premodern ed. by Noreen Giffney, Michelle M. Sauer & Diane Watt. Palgrave, New York. ISBN 978-0-230-61676-9
A collection of papers addressing the question of what the place of premodern historical studies have in relation to the creation and critique of historical theories, and especially to the field of queer studies.
Laskaya, Anne. 2011. “A ‘Wrangling Parliament’: Terminology and Audience in Medieval European Literary Studies and Lesbian Studies”
[The following is duplicated from the associated blog. I'm trying to standardize the organization of associated content.]
While reviewing and proof-reading the write-up for this article just prior to posting, the following phrase--though not the main point--struck me. "...premodern lesbians were part of the audience for culture and responded to that culture on an individual as well as a collective basis." When I brainstorm lesbian historic fiction, this is one of the concepts I keep constantly in mind. Whether or not my characters had access to an in-person familiarity with other women in same-sex relationships, what did they experience in the culture around them that could help them understand their feelings and desires? If they saw an allegorical painting of Jupiter-as-Diana making love to Callisto, if they watched a play where a character they knew to be female received the romantic advances of another woman while in male disguise, if they listened to a poem about Sappho enjoying the love of "Lesbian lasses", could those things shape their construction of their own sexuality every bit as much as real-life examples could?
The concept of queer identity as socially constructed (or at least the concept that the specific forms it takes is socially constructed) is something of a contentious point for those who feel their own desires to be innate and inherent (to say nothing of the potential political implications). But when looking at historic cultures where we find it difficult to find evidence for in-person lesbian subcultures, we shouldn't neglect the importance of how cultural expressions can create a meta-subculture every bit as important in grounding a person's understanding of sexuality as in-person interactions can be. (After all, consider how many women in recent decades first twigged to their interest in other women from watching Xena: Warrior Princess!)
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This article addresses the question of terminology for women who love women from three angles: literary-historical recovery of evidence of sexuality, queer disruptions of expected categories and readings of human desire across time, and scholarly talk-arounds such as “lesbian-like”. It points out the difficulty of retrieving historic language, given the biases and gaps in the historic record.
Laskaya considers the useful broad ambiguity of “queer” to be undermined by its tendency to be used more often in reference to men. This broadness of application can erase the specificity of “lesbian” and so to erase lesbian-specific concerns and readings. [Note: compare, for example, how "gay" is allegedly inclusive of women but defaults to being male-specific.] She looks for concrete evidence in the past and--specific to the current topic--the language used to identify and frame female same-sex desire. She examines the historicity of “lesbian” specifically.
Queer theory’s institutional prominence can undermine its disruptive potential in the academy. It becomes distanced from the specifics of identity politics and can be in conflict with the concerns of lesbian-feminism. Some approach “queer” as a reading/critical strategy rather than an identity, decoupling it from concepts such as “gay” or “lesbian”. [Note: This is why queer academics and queer identities are often incomprehensible to each other. Who owns the concepts of “queerness”?] Under this approach, “queer readings” disrupt homosexuality just as much as they disrupt heterosexuality.
Even as the concept "queer" undermines binaries, it stands in binary opposition to “not queer”. To the extent that “queer” gains power and status from its abstraction, it thus becomes congruent with conservative intellectual traditions that value abstraction over particularity. Is some of the current prominence of “queer” due to the permission it gives to larger numbers of people to lay claim to that abstraction-based status without engaging with particular embodied identities? [Note: This question comes perilously close to a suggestion that some people "aren't queer enough" to be queer. That is, as a critique of the term "queer" it feels awefully gatekeeperish.]
The concept of identities as socially constructed is widely accepted regardless of theoretical stance. Given this, to what extent are choices of language a way of creating and sustaining those social constructions? To what extent is the repetitious acknowledgement of social constructionism a way of creating and maintaining that concept? To what extent are the concepts of social constructs in conflict with individual agency? Without using that specific term, Laskaya points out that the “great man” theory of history requires an acceptance of the power of individual agency. And just as society is not monolithic, agency may affect specific social axes without changing all of them. This has relevance for lesbian studies because premodern lesbians were part of the audience for culture and responded to that culture on an individual as well as a collective basis. The potential homoerotic readings picked out by queer studies were available for experience and interpretation, as well as the ever-present potential for cross-gender identifications that “queer” the experience.
It's that time of year again when authors remind the reading world what they've published in that year. In the SFF world, it started as part of the annual awards season--reminding potential nominators of works they may have forgotten they enjoyed. But it's also a self-affirmation. A way of saying, "Yes, I've been productive this year. Look what I've accomplished."
Well, ok. Look what I've accomplished.
"Hyddwen" by Heather Rose Jones, published by Podcastle.org in September 2017
I'm not going to lie; that feels a bit pathetic for a year's output. When Mother of Souls came out in November 2016, it was clear I wouldn't be getting a novel out in 2017. Even without the depressive effect of the 2016 election results, I'd been wrung out by the deadlines I'd set for delivering Mother of Souls and hadn't started immediately in on Floodtide. And Floodtide is a different enough book in the context of the series that I knew it would need more care in the writing. What's more, it's different enough that I feel the need to set myself up with a clear Plan B, and that takes more thought.
So when 2017 started, there was no guarantee that I'd have anything to show for this year. I was only able to submit "Hyddwen" to Podcastle because I gave up on waiting for it to be rejected by the market where it had languished for over a year. So the self-affirmation purpose of "look what I've published this year" is a bit weak. And the nomination-reminder purpose is non-existent. "Hyddwen" got a few lovely comments and then disappeared into the mists of the otherworld. It isn't that sweet, positive fairy-tale stories never get award nominations, but they generally only get them if the author has enough juice that a substantial number of people read/listen to the story in the first place.
At least I already know that I'll have at least one publication in 2018. There's that.
It's been a year of being reminded that I live in that liminal space between worlds--between genres and readerships. It's a place I chose, but not one I find comfortable. Like Serafina in Mother of Souls, sometimes I want desperately to belong somewhere, to be comfortable. But--just like Serafina--even more than that, I want to be true to my talent, to my creative vision. And that will never be a comfortable thing. My stories will always cross genres and dodge in unexpected directions. They will always be too complex to fall neatly into favorite tropes. They will never be a "best example of X" that anyone pulls out and recommends reflexively. And I suppose I'm ok with that. But I'm allowed to dream. And I'm allowed to be uncomfortable.
I'll be doing a separate year-end post on my non-fiction and projects closer to the actual end of the year. Last year it was a refreshing reminder of how productive I've actually been. I'm not sure it will be quite so comforting this year, but I won't know until I put it together.
This article is an example of why I find historiographic analysis worth the trouble to slog through the terminology and mental gymnastics (and the occasional need to chase down questions like "what exactly does 'alterity' mean in this context?"). Writers of historical fiction are always asking the question, "What is our relationship to the past?" whether they realize it or not. And fiction constantly weaves between the idea that the past has a concrete, objective existence, and the understanding that all events and all people exist within a subjective context that gives them meaning to the perceiver. Traub does a great job of sorting out various approaches that historians have taken to the question of what relationship exists between women who love women at different times and places across history and proposes some new ways of thinking about that question.
Traub, Valerie. 2011. “The Present Future of Lesbian Historiography” in The Lesbian Premodern ed. by Noreen Giffney, Michelle M. Sauer & Diane Watt. Palgrave, New York. ISBN 978-0-230-61676-9
A collection of papers addressing the question of what the place of premodern historical studies have in relation to the creation and critique of historical theories, and especially to the field of queer studies.
Traub, Valerie. 2011. “The Present Future of Lesbian Historiography”
[The following is duplicated from the associated blog. I'm trying to standardize the organization of associated content.]
This article is an example of why I find historiographic analysis worth the trouble to slog through the terminology and mental gymnastics (and the occasional need to chase down questions like "what exactly does 'alterity' mean in this context?"). Writers of historical fiction are always asking the question, "What is our relationship to the past?" whether they realize it or not. And fiction constantly weaves between the idea that the past has a concrete, objective existence, and the understanding that all events and all people exist within a subjective context that gives them meaning to the perceiver. Traub does a great job of sorting out various approaches that historians have taken to the question of what relationship exists between women who love women at different times and places across history and proposes some new ways of thinking about that question.
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Traub looks at methodological issues currently facing lesbian history as a field. It faces the contrasting problems of a continuist approach versus considering alterity (with its regular charges of anachronism against the other approach). Traub feels both models have outlived their usefulness. She notes Faderman as an example of the continuist approach, i.e., that there is a single connected “history of lesbianism”. Others on this team include Castle and Brooten, who challenge Foucault’s focus on periodization (i.e., that there are distinct and unrelated “periods” of how same-sex relations were understood) and the emergence of the alterist position--one that has been more developed in studies of men than women. [Note: I’m not sure I have a complete grasp on what the “alterity” approach constitutes. It appears to be something along the lines of viewing same-sex relations as existing at various times in opposition to normative structures, rather than having a continuous connected historical tradition. That is, that same-sex relations at any point in history are structurally connected to heterosexual relations at that same point, rather than being connected to same-sex relations at other points in history.]
Bennett, looking at social history, recognizes a distinction between looking at change in women’s experiences and looking at change in women’s social status, where a “patriarchal equilibrium” works to maintain the latter, but is more flexible on the former. In the context of lesbian history, this suggests that the social acceptabiity of lesbian identity and behavior may be affected by how it either ameliorates or challenges women's relationship to patriarchy. Other critiques of alterity recognize similarities and continuity in the experience of sexuality while rejecting universals. Researchers like Vicinus note repetitive or continuous patterns and structures of intimacy whose meanings may change over time.
As more archival material is identified, examined, and re-examined, more nuanced understandings are possible. Traub sets out a shift in her own thinking:
1. Recurrent explanatory meta-logics give a sense of familiarity and consistency to lesbian history over time.
2. These meta-logics get their specifics from the specific contexts and social definition.
3. These recurrences can be seen as “cycles of salience” as concepts recur with differences across time.
That is, continuity is not continuous, but recurrent, due to persistent concerns filtered through dynamic social contexts. Similarities are not due to inheritance but due to being driven by similar forces. The structures and definitions within a particular time and place may reflect narrow types of experience (e.g., the dominance of middle class white women’s concerns in modern lesbian models) but comparison across intersections can tease out the common dynamics.
Traub considers repeating “types” (tropes) in which lesbian desire manifests and what the underlying meta-logic is that (re)generates them. E.g., Katherine Phillips’ 17th century “Society of Friendship” compared to Boston Marriage in the 19th century, or the concept of Romantic Friendship compared to convent intimacies. When comparing gender-bending types (virago, tribade, female husband, passing women, butch) the similarities are disrupted by contextual dynamics. Another repeating trope is the motif of the enlarged clitoris (in the 16-17th century) and the early 20th century sexologists’ search for an essentialized morphology of deviance from a meta-logic of physiological essentialism. (See similarly the more recent search for a “gay gene”.) This motif is related to larger social fixations that include “scientific racism”.
Manifestations of models of sexuality emerge out of more general social discourse unrelated to sexuality. Traub argues against simply shifting to seeing these tropes as a continuity or universal, but neither should the homologies be dismissed. Current historians (in lesbian history) avoid trying to construct an overarching historical narrative, but have also moved away from the “famous gay people in history” approach. Traub offers a long bullet-point list of themes that are worth tracing across cycles of history that affect the expression and understanding of same-sex desire, with a special list relating specifically to women’s experiences as women in society that affect their experience of sexuality.