does having LGBTQ+ background characters count as progressive?

[Henry]

There was a conversation thread on a blog I follow about how not having LGBTQ+ characters and never mentioning non m/f relationships (or the people in the m/f relationship never being considered anything other than straight) in an AU (e.g. fantasy worlds, dystopias, etc.) is inherently homophobic/transphobic. What are y'all's opinions on that? This question popped up in my mind when I read the books Acid by Emma Pass and The Ring & The Crown by Melissa de la Cruz. Acid is about dystopian London, and the main character meets an explicitly stated f/f couple, and both girls are named. It leads the main character to wonder about other same gender romantic relationships and how it would fit in with the heteronormative government-mandated match-making. The Ring & The Crown is a fantasy novel set in the Victorian era and one of the main characters hangs out with a m/m couple several times during balls throughout the book. Both men are named, but fall a bit into the "sassy gay men" trope and most of their dialogue is commenting on clothing. (side question: there are people who fit the stereotypes of their sexuality (butch lesbians, effeminate gay men, etc.) but it's also seen as a negative thing/a joke. Is it okay to portray them this way as long as they are given a fully fleshed-out personality or there are other LGBTQ+ characters who don't fit stereotypes?) Though having only minor LGBTQ+ characters wouldn't be considered especially progressive, do you think that acknowledging the existence of non-cishet characters should be praised or seen as a requirement?

[Kaje]

I think it varies with the book. In some AU or dystopias, anyone LGBT might have to be deep in the closet, and so unlikely to appear casually as a minor character. Or if there are a really small number of characters questing in a wilderness or something, then it shouldn't become knee-jerk to make one of them the token gay sidekick, unless you're going to do something interesting with the character.

But in other situations, I think someone could be downchecked for lack of realism if there are no LGBT individuals around, just like they could be for not having any other minority characters appear where they would be expected.

As for stereotypes, that's trickier. I'm all for avoiding them, but at the same time you can bend over backward to avoid them, to the point where, for example, all your gay men are super-macho (some M/M romance seems to lean toward this reverse-stereotyping) and that's not ideal either. I think the key is to make the individual characters interesting, or give them some kind of roundedness mixed in. It can be tough with briefly-appearing secondaries though.

[Jay]

Kaje wrote: " I think the key is to make the individual characters interesting..."

That is always the key. The rest amounts to personal interest.

Michael Sam's jersey as the newly minted Rams #10 is selling faster than copies can be printed and sports editors are suggesting that he should have been drafted in the 3rd round not the 7th. He and his boyfriend are living prototypes of that reverse macho stereotype. To the mundane world, being gay and a tough guy is that humanizing "flaw" that makes such a man irresistibly interesting.

In real life, I have known a lesbian couple who were the mothers of two adopted daughters. One was the home health nurse and the other a volunteer fire chief. So, the cop and school vice principal lesbian couple in the Fosters is really just art imitating life and not inventing it from whole cloth.

My own life and family history read like a series historical romances. I could not write a story more far-fetched and unbelievable than what actually happened in the history of my family.

But keeping it to just the LGBTQ family stories. I gave up my first and only gay love to go on a mission for the Mormon Church and do all the expected things after. I grew up doing rodeos with my Dad and the opera with my Mom. My first and only gay love was himself a super jock who played football, wrestled and ran track. I was a competitive swimmer. And we were both cowboys.

I have a cousin who served the Church in the same time frame who discovered himself after the mission, left the Church, got AIDS, found true love and died in the arms of his partner. His father tried to disown him and only recanted when the grandmother told her son that he had to mend his fences with his son to go on having a relationship with her. My cousin died completely reconciled to his Mormon family because of a grandmother who put family before religion, just like in Marie Sexton's novel, but without the HEA ending.

I have yet another cousin who knew before his Mormon mission but never acted on it until after. He is still Mormon and married to the man of his dreams. They even attend the Mormon church hand in hand, repulsing some and getting high fives from other Mormons in their congregation. That cousin played football in high school, is a real cowboy and an avid hunter. You could not ask for a better trail guide. And his husband is a school teacher, but just as tough of a guy.

The fun bit of fiction would have been to have the three gay cousins in my Mormon family all be in high school at the same time in the same school. The Hell we would have raised.

But again, the key is always trying to find or develop that which is uniquely interesting in any given character, especially one who is also LGBTQ. And no matter how vivid your imagination, there is likely someone who has actually lived something like what you dare to write. I know I have.

[Kaje]

At the same time, you can do a stereotypical character and not have it be a joke. I know a gay man who superficially is all of the caricatures. He's effeminate, wears eyeliner and clear nail-polish at work, has fluttery mannerisms and over-emotional reactions and a higher-pitched voice, works as a geriatric care-aide, loves to do his clients' hair and makeup,... but he is also the kindest, most caring, gentlest and in a crisis suddenly the calmest aide my mother ever had. I would hate to leave him out of a story just because his outward appearance might offend someone as a stereotype, but I would want that inner self to show through, as a balance.

[Jay]

Flamboyantly gay does not automatically make a man insensitive to the needs of others. The trait itself can be highly endearing in one man and totally obnoxious in another. And over the years, I have noticed some straight men having some effeminate mannerisms. Such lines get blurred by men (and boys) comfortable in their own skin and not worried about how others perceive them. Guys in general are far less preoccupied by such things as they were when I was young. But the locker room remains the last refuge of homophobia and there is still value to young people in the positive role model of guys like Michael Sam, whether in real life or fictional characters.

But back to the main point, the short answer is "no, having minor LGBTQ characters is not automatically anything special, not nowadays, anyway." It all depends on the treatment given to them in the writing. Robert A. Heinlein's writings were edited in the early days to exclude positive LGBTQ characters he intentionally wove into the plot. There is a world of difference between early editions of Stranger in a Strange Land, of example, and those published later on. What Heinlein did with minor LGBTQ characters was groundbreaking but it would not now be any big deal.

[Henry]

Jay D. wrote: "What Heinlein did with minor LGBTQ characters was groundbreaking but it would not now be any big deal"

That makes sense. Now that people are more accepting of having LGBTQ main characters, having them only make minor appearances shouldn't be lauded.

Thanks for all your responses, guys! (Not that this is necessarily the end of the conversation, but I didn't want to just post and run)

[Kaje]

Having them make non-token well-rounded and natural appearances still deserves praise though.

[Melanie]

I agree with Jay D. on this, and I would also like to say that part of my problem with it is due mostly to viewpoint.
I write predominately trans- fiction of various types, though usually with a male love interest. In my stories I usually leave the sexuality of most if not all of the external characters beyond one or two other core cast members as nebulous or unimportant, and I do the same with race and background. Part of my reasoning on this is, admittedly, to keep the story as focused on the characters I want to emphasize as I can, but another part of the reasoning is to de-emphasize in my writing the importance of those things in general.
In my opinion -- and it really is only one person's opinion -- by insisting on emphasizing the sexuality of side characters a lot of media places too much importance on sexuality, race, and gender roles. To have an interesting character who just happens to be LGBTQ -- like Claire in Questionable Content, or, say, Sir Hammerlock in Borderlands 2 -- to me says a lot more about inclusiveness than a story that emphasizes that element as a defining characteristic of the character. I want characters first, not sexualities or genders or races. If Michael happens to be gay then that's wonderful, but if the gay guy happens to be Michael then that's the wrong way to do it, because it places undue importance on his sexuality over who he is as a person.
I noticed, Emily, that you use a Buffy icon, and Buffy is a great example of both ways this works. In the beginning with Willow they emphasized her character far more than her sexuality. Admittedly, at the time they were playing her as het- or at least bi- leaning toward men, but they had the right idea in focusing on WHO she was. Later in the series they introduced her lesbian relationship, and from that point on they went out of the way to use that as a defining part of who her character was every chance they had. In this way, they disappointed me, not because I can't understand how the drama of such a relationship is important TO the character, but because they made it the impetus for almost everything she did from then on. She went from being "Willow" to "the lesbian witch," and her character suffered for that even while the show was recognized and praised for its progressive stance.

[Kaje]

I agree that I like the characters to appear first and their sexuality to be apparent later, as just one facet.

[Henry]

Melani, I definitely agree that sexuality/gender identity should only be one facet of the character (Amanda the superhero with telekinetic powers who happens to be gay rather than that lesbian superhero). I love BTVS and the show holds a special place in my heart, but it received many accolades for progressiveness that it didn't necessarily earn.

[Rainbowheart]

I think it counts! Many of the books I've added to the 2014 listopia for LGBT-themed YA have side characters who are LGBT.

I think side characters are as important as main characters because it reflects the diversity of our world. So teens can read these books and see that parents, siblings, friends, teachers and so on are not necessarily straight by default.

Btw, I did not know about The Ring and the Crown. I'll have to add that one....

https://www.goodreads.com/list/show/4...

Could always use more voters, so if you know of more 2014 releases, feel free to add!

[Rainbowheart]

And on the question of stereotypes, I think it's fine to show a character that society would see as stereotypically gay as long as the character isn't treated as a joke or with derision.

Incidentally there are a lot more effeminate gay male characters than butch lesbians in YA. Authors need to start writing some because there's seriously almost nothing for lesbian girls who are more gender transgressive. Very few butches at all, and none who don't fit the butch/femme paradigm when it comes to their relationships.

[Jessica]

Hi all,

I have really enjoyed reading this thread. I just want to echo what was said about characters being well-rounded. If sexuality is just one facet of a complex character, you will likely avoid stereotyping because stereotypes are by nature superficial.

I was moved to post this tonight by listening to an interview with the filmmaker Ira Sachs on NPR. He gets asked about these issues a lot because he is gay and writes about gay characters. I won't try to paraphrase the interview, but one of his main points was that good storytelling requires complex characters. It's worth listening to the podcast if there is one ... In any case, his new film sounds great. It is centered around a gay couple of over 40 years played by John Lithgow and Alfred Molina:

http://loveisstrangemovie.com/

Jessica

[Henry]

Hey y'all! I'm writing a guest post for an LGBTQ+ YA book blog, and I'm going to use this thread in it. I'll provide a link to this page so people can read the entire conversation. I've just started writing, and I'll probably pull quotes from here. Right now, it'll be credited in this format: Emily stated on the Goodreads thread, "I definitely agree that sexuality/gender identity should only be one facet of the character." I just wanted to let you guys know, and you can reply to this comment if you have any questions.

[Kaje]

Sounds good - since we're an open, public group you can link to us. Good luck with writing the post.

[Rainbowheart]

Emily, let us know when you've finished your blog post. I'd like to read it!

[Jessica]

Rainbowheart wrote: "Emily, let us know when you've finished your blog post. I'd like to read it!"

Me too! Let us know.

[Henry]

I'll definitely post a link here!

[Mothwing]

Na, representation through usually heavily stereotypical white cis gay minor male characters is not enough, and that's usually the only kind of sideplot that I encounter in YA literature.

[Kaje]

Mothwing wrote: "Na, representation through usually heavily stereotypical white cis gay minor male characters is not enough, and that's usually the only kind of sideplot that I encounter in YA literature."

Those are definitely the majority of LGBT secondary characters. There is a gradual move to more variety, but you are right that minorities of all kinds are under-represented in YA.