The arrival of Pride Month sends a rainbow-coloured shockwave through corporations and cultures globally, as brands change their logos and devise woke marketing campaigns. Over the last few years, a lot has been written about this sudden and temporary awakening. But despite our frequent and critical engagement with ideas of representation and diversity, we are far from their balanced applications. In most representations of queer identity, a sameness pervades.
In the introduction to their ground-breaking anthology of queer poetry from South Asia, The World That Belongs To Us, authors Akhil Katyal and Aditi Angiras write about the need to “disperse” and “splinter” the word ‘queer’. “People live their lives through a maddeningly complex slew of names, identities and gestures. ‘Queer’ only pretends to signpost them all, but it is precisely that, a convenient pretence, meant for book covers, not for all its contents.”
The challenge of representation, it seems, is its inability to incorporate a spectrum. We ask queer activists, voices and personalities about their vision for the way forward, and the queer stories, narratives and representation they’d like to see more of in literature. Edited excerpts:
More lesbian narratives
Ambar Sahil Chatterjee | Literary agent and writer
The focus at present seems to be on gay male narratives; there is so little on lesbian experiences, trans experiences or non-binary experiences. And imagine, if these were to be given further dimension by not restricting them to the mainstream bubble of urban experiences? What about queer narratives from smaller cities and towns, villages, from regions where there might not be an immediate vocabulary to articulate what it means to be queer? And then imagine if these experiences could be further expressed in different genres: not just in a memoir or literary fiction, but rom-coms, horror, sci-fi, fantasy, YA, children’s literature. And that would only be the beginning.
Must read:Heartstopper (Alice Osman); Giovanni’s Room (James Baldwin); Maurice (E.M. Forster); A Little Life (Hanya Yanagihara)
We still can’t put two men kissing on the cover
Manish Gaekwad | Author and screenwriter
Representation is double-edged. It’s blunt on one side, as in there is no clear narrative, we haven’t even captured the imagination of the YA genre like in the west, where representation is strong and inclusive. On the other hand, representation gets sharp in interpretation around here. It’s how we read text. Most queer writers do not like being labelled and yet the stories they tell carry a queer subtext, or a sub-plot. We still can’t put two men kissing on the cover, as in the case of Young Mungo, or tweak the nursery rhyme to ‘Jill And Jane Went Up The Hill’ because our educational institutions don’t teach inclusivity, our society does not normalise it and our culture does not support it in cinema, music, theatre, art, because it is viewed as commercially non-lucrative.
Must read: Douglas Stuart’s Shuggie Bain and Young Mungo
Go beyond the funny or traumatised sidekick
Neha Bhat | Sex and trauma therapist
In my book, Unashamed, I write about the concept of ‘neuroqueerness’ which is the idea that one’s queerness isn’t limited to and defined by sex and sexuality only, but rather, can focus on a more expansive view of living a life outside norms. I find this definition more inclusive of Indians who do not want to be seen as either the main character’s funny or traumatised sidekick, but as a healthy individual with their own life journey. Our narratives must focus on family challenges in embracing queerness, showcase successful familial stories where elders have silently accepted and in their own way made space for their family member’s queerness, alternative family structures such as women heading the family, single people bringing up children with less stigma, and so on.
Must read:Babyji (Abha Dawesar); Queering India (Ruth Vanita); Pleasure Activism (Adrienne Maree Brown)
Why are people uneasy with queer desire?
Onir | Filmmaker and queer rights activist
When I did my movie Pine Cone, I realised that none of our films represent desire and its emotional depths, and I wanted to study the emotions that a person goes through while navigating love and relationships. I found that a lot of straight or closeted people are uncomfortable with seeing queer desire on the screen. Is heterosexuality so insecure that people get anxious watching a story of queer desire? What makes it so difficult for straight people to accept these stories as just other stories about desire? The same extends to books and the stories they carry. We are not one lesbian or gay or trans story, we have so many stories to share.
Must read:Queeristan (Parmesh Shahani); Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe (Benjamin Alire Sáenz)
Needed: translations of queer fiction, poetry and non-fiction
Anish Gawande | Founder, Pink List India
Translations of queer literature are sorely needed today. There are, of course, notable exceptions. Entering the Maze: Queer Fiction of Krishnagopal Mallick, translated by Niladri R. Chatterjee and published by Niyogi Books last year, is a spectacular example. I do wish more publishers would commission translations of queer fiction, queer poetry, even queer non-fiction.
Must read:The Angel of History (Rabih Alameddine); Payakhali Hirval (Ramchandra Siras)
Queer and trans subjects not just for entertainment
Santa Khurai | Gender-rights activist, writer and artist
In India and the rest of the world, media platforms mostly use queer and trans subjects either for entertainment or commercial reasons. Any narratives that come from unconventional gender paradigms are made to feel alienated and disgusting. I wish more queer and trans scholars would support grassroots writers. Also, our community needs to exchange experiences and improve our writing skills. We can also write about cis gender stories to help shift people’s prejudices into progressive forces. This may help increase the demand for our writings both in the publishing industry and elsewhere.
No marketing budget for queer authors?
Chintan Girish Modi | Journalist and educator
Queer publishing seems to be growing well in India, especially after the Supreme Court read down Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code. What’s missing is a big marketing budget to make these books visible not only to readers but also to award juries and literature festivals. Queer narratives need to be marketed sensitively and intelligently, and publishers should make an effort to support queer authors who are not celebrities.
Must read:The Sufi’s Nightingale (Sarbpreet Singh); Reva and Prisha (Shals Mahajan); Radiant Fugitives (Nawaaz Ahmed); Queer Palestine and the Empire of Critique (Sa’ed Atshan)
Give us queer stories all-year round
Pramada Menon | Queer feminist activist
Queer narratives have to be more expansive and inclusive and not just about queer identity. They should include gender and sexual orientation and cut across class, caste, religion, ethnicity, disability. It’s rare to find queer stories except during pride month or when crimes against gay people happen. What about the rest of the year? There’s silence. Most importantly, what do you mean by queer representation? Is there heterosexual representation or Dalit representation? Publishing has to tell stories because they exist. And people look for some validation that they exist. So if stories are told, then people will just take it in their stride instead of only seeing pride photographs.
Must read:Loving Women: Being Lesbian in Unprivileged India (Maya Sharma); Memory of Light (Ruth Vanita); Facing the Mirror (Ashwini Sukthankar); Kari (Amruta Patil)
The writer is a Delhi-based literary reviewer. On X @karteakk.
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