la_marquise (
la_marquise) wrote2011-09-13 06:31 pm
Entry tags:
A censored life?
When I was ten or eleven, my mother, knowing I liked reading about the Greek myths, handed me her copy of Mary Renault, The Last of the Wine, suggesting I might like it. I liked it very much -- indeed, I loved it, and read and reread it to this day. That same old paperback is still on my bookshelves. It was moving and absorbing and yes, it talked about Socrates and Plato, but the heart of the book -- and the thing that I loved most about it -- is the relationship between the narrator, Alexias, and his older lover Lysis. I adored them, I loved that they found each other, I loved them together. They went straight into my private pantheon of great romances, along with Mr Rochester and Jane Eyre, Aragorn and Arwen and Maxim de Winter and his second wife. (I read ahead of my age. A lot.) It didn't matter at all that Alexias and Lysis were both male -- not to me, not to my mother when she recommended the book. What mattered was that it was a good book. The history in it is wrong. But the characters remain amongst my all-time favourites. The history in The Three Musketeers is wrong, too, but it doesn't stop me loving and admiring it anyway.)
The point, though, is that my mother saw nothing wrong in letting her 11-year-old daughter read a book about a gay romance. She was quite right. There is nothing wrong with that, nothing at all. (My mother, as I may have mentioned before, is a remarkable woman.) My best friend saw nothing wrong in encouraging her teenage daughter to read it, either.
As far as I can remember, The Last of the Wine was the first book I read with a gay theme. Within the next 3 or 4 years, I came across many more -- more by Renault, but also books by Samuel R Delany, and others. I met the group marriages and characters with fluid sexualities of Heinlein. Later on came characters in books by Katherine Kurtz and Radcliffe Hall and Jean Ure and Alfred Duggan. There was slash, too, which my older Star Trek fan friends wouldn't let me read (they didn't know how cool my mother was) but which I found anyway and decided wasn't as good as Mary Renault. I learnt a lot about love from Alexias and Lysis, and I would not be without them.
The point is that the book was there for me to read. Friends and acquaintances say the same things about books by Mercedes Lackey, Tanya Huff, Fiona Patterson, Lynn Flewelling, Elisabeth E Lynn, Chaz Brenchley, Hal Duncan, Ellen Kushner... I could go on and on. All those books were there. Now, I'm straight. My choices are reflected back at me by mainstream British literary culture. But not all my friends are, and those books meant even more to them than to me. It showed them that they could be heroes and lovers, accepted and acceptable. And that really matters.
Sherwood Smith and Rachel Manija Brown have written a YA book with a gay viewpoint character which they currently trying to sell. An agent offered them a contract, on the condition that they make the gay character straight. You've probably heard about this already, but if not, take the time to read what they say.
And pass it on. Because books matter. Books change lives. Some books have even saved lives. But to do that, they have to be there on the shelf to be read. Taking them away, or rewriting them, or denying people of all ages access to them is censorship of words, of realities, of people's daily lives.
The point, though, is that my mother saw nothing wrong in letting her 11-year-old daughter read a book about a gay romance. She was quite right. There is nothing wrong with that, nothing at all. (My mother, as I may have mentioned before, is a remarkable woman.) My best friend saw nothing wrong in encouraging her teenage daughter to read it, either.
As far as I can remember, The Last of the Wine was the first book I read with a gay theme. Within the next 3 or 4 years, I came across many more -- more by Renault, but also books by Samuel R Delany, and others. I met the group marriages and characters with fluid sexualities of Heinlein. Later on came characters in books by Katherine Kurtz and Radcliffe Hall and Jean Ure and Alfred Duggan. There was slash, too, which my older Star Trek fan friends wouldn't let me read (they didn't know how cool my mother was) but which I found anyway and decided wasn't as good as Mary Renault. I learnt a lot about love from Alexias and Lysis, and I would not be without them.
The point is that the book was there for me to read. Friends and acquaintances say the same things about books by Mercedes Lackey, Tanya Huff, Fiona Patterson, Lynn Flewelling, Elisabeth E Lynn, Chaz Brenchley, Hal Duncan, Ellen Kushner... I could go on and on. All those books were there. Now, I'm straight. My choices are reflected back at me by mainstream British literary culture. But not all my friends are, and those books meant even more to them than to me. It showed them that they could be heroes and lovers, accepted and acceptable. And that really matters.
Sherwood Smith and Rachel Manija Brown have written a YA book with a gay viewpoint character which they currently trying to sell. An agent offered them a contract, on the condition that they make the gay character straight. You've probably heard about this already, but if not, take the time to read what they say.
And pass it on. Because books matter. Books change lives. Some books have even saved lives. But to do that, they have to be there on the shelf to be read. Taking them away, or rewriting them, or denying people of all ages access to them is censorship of words, of realities, of people's daily lives.

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I'm more than a big boggled that this has happened now, today. I guess I'm exceptionally fortunate in that when I wrote HASTUR LORD (or finished the partial manuscript Marion had left), no one -- not my editor, not my agent, not my publisher, not the MZB Literary Trust -- told me it wasn't okay to write about heroic passionate loving gay characters, bisexual characters, polyamorous relationships, people who behaved with integrity and honor not because they were gay or straight or anything in between but because of who they were. And while I was working on it, the campaign against California'a Prop. H8TE was going on.
Haven't we come any farther than that?
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I don't know what the situation is here: I only know one YA sff writer and she hasn't as yet commented on this. (I haven't seen her on-line for a bit, so suspect she's busy.)
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'Farenheit 451' comes to mind. Bradbury is a genius and a prophet.
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Ironically, I discovered Mary Renault through the school library in my Christian, highly conventional, girls' school. Books with any hint of sex caused such ripples of excitement on the grapevine that their borrowing rate soared, alerting the teachers, who promptly disappeared them. MR escaped the cull. I never worked out if it was because most of the girls self-censored by not borrowing 'yucky' gay books, or if the teacher who ran the library (a classicist and minimally closeted lesbian) spared her books on purpose. I hope the latter.
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And yes, trying to protect teens in this age is just... well, silly. Even in the US.
Has Squirrel read Renault? It occurs to me he might find some of them fun.
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it's wrong. there are gay teens. there are straight teens, girls in particular, who like to read about gay boys! i did. i wrote about them too. we are cotton wooling kids and teens, spoiling them ridiculously and then trying to protect them.
besides which, most kids/teens read adult books anyway! and i think reading terry goodkind is FAR more damaging to any young reader than a book with a gay character.
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It's always such a reminder of how clueless I am sometimes about what other people think of as "normal". My first reaction is never outrage as much as it is, "seriously??" And then I get pissed off.
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The only book she ever tried to censor was a war story that had graphic torture scenes. I read it anyway, and had nightmares for months.
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