Trans Lit – searching for our reflections
It has been quite a while since I’ve done a post on trans fiction, hasn’t it! The LGBT literary site Lamnda Literary had a post a while back by Cheryl Morgan titled Is There, or Should There Be, Such a Thing as ‘Trans Lit’? The post has lots of interesting links to authors who have written on or about trans issues, including links to various trans comics and trans fiction sites. (Some of which I’ve linked to from this blog, and some of which I’d never seen before. Check out both the main post and the comments.)
But I have to admit, I was (and am) a little confused by the question Morgan is asking. It seems self evident – even in the links within her post, not to mention those in the comments – that there is trans literature being generated. (Morgan seems to define ‘trans lit’ as ‘fiction,’ a definition I don’t have any problems with.) More broadly, she seems to be creating divisions where none need be:
Yet what would “trans literature” be like? When we talk about the literature of an identity group we mean that members of the group want to read about people like themselves. African-Americans want books with African-American protagonists; lesbians want books with lesbian protagonists; and so on. But the trans community is very diverse, and different parts of it have very different needs. Cross-dressers, for example, often read, and write, erotic fantasies about cross-dressing. Pre-transition transsexuals reportedly read memoirs and theory voraciously in order to find out if transition is right for them, and how to survive it. Post transition, however, they often settle happily into their preferred gender and have no further need for trans books. They are often content identifying with characters of their preferred gender and don’t want to be reminded of what they see as a painful past life.
Those who regard themselves as in a third gender, as gender-free or gender-fluid, and those who are intersex, will probably want books about people like themselves. Obviously there is a real need for a literature for them. However, they are only a part of the trans community (and apologies to any of them who do not want to be regarded as part of it), so the market is even smaller.
It’s true: “trans” is very broad term, which catches potentially disparate groups under its net. But so does “people of color” or “lesbian” or “young adult.” A protagonist who is in the midst of transitioning with full familial support may have a different audience than a protagonist who identifies as genderqueer and has been kicked out of hir home. But I can imagine books being listed under ‘African American fiction’ that nevertheless share little in common beyond the protagonist’s skin color. (I was hoping to use the the books listed in African American fiction at Amazon for examples, but it looks like most/all of those are specifically romance novels aimed at women. Odd.)
And I think the thing that does bind different trans* identities together – somehow feeling outside one’s assigned gender roles – could allow those interested in trans fiction to enjoy a wide variety of trans protagonists, even if not every protagonist matches every reader’s lived experience.
I’m also concerned by how Morgan divides the trans community:
- Cross-dressers: “often read, and write, erotic fantasies about cross-dressing”
- Pre-transition transsexuals: “reportedly read memoirs and theory voraciously in order to find out if transition is right for them, and how to survive it.”
- Post-transition transsexuals: “often content identifying with characters of their preferred gender and don’t want to be reminded of what they see as a painful past life”
- Genderqueer: “probably want books about people like themselves”
First, as I said, I think someone who identifies as genderqueer might still be able to identify with a cross-dressing protagonist in a way that someone who is cis might not. But I also feel like Morgan is reinforcing really stereotypical ideas about what those identities mean.
I attempted to bring this up in the comments section of the post, saying
I think [the way you present post-transition life in your post is] an overly simplistic view of transitioning, or of post-transition life. Without getting into the ‘are you still trans after transitioning’ debate, I think there’s even more value in depicting successful, empowered post-transition characters to remind both trans and cis individuals that it is possible to transition and be a whole and complete person.
I’m not sure Morgan understood where I was coming from, though. Her reply:
I used the word “often” in that section you quote very deliberately. I certainly wouldn’t suggest that such attitudes were true of everyone who transitions. What I have tried to do here is give readers an overview of the great diversity of the trans community, and that means trying to give space to as many different viewpoints as possible.
But I don’t think Morgan got in multiple viewpoints, I think she got in multiple stereotypes.
I’m curious how self-identified cross-dessers, drag queens/kings, pre- mid- and post-transition transsexuals, and genderqueer individuals would react to Morgan’s assessment of what they are looking for. To be clear, I think members of all those groups share a desire for protagonists in which they can find themselves. I think all humans, period, share a desire for art which reflects their own experiences.
I just don’t think anyone should decide for another group what their reflection looks like.
fiction, gender, literature, queer, theory, trans
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literature, queer, theory, trans fiction
Themocracy
I’d love some fiction about protagonists that identify as non-binary, so I guess that bit is true for me, though it doesn’t say much.
It does seem like she’s falling on stereotypes. The problem isn’t that she hasn’t talked about different ‘groups’ of trans people, the problem is that she’s pretty much saying that everyone in each group is basically the same and would want the same kind of thing in their fiction.
Like, I’m pretty sure crossdressers don’t ONLY want erotic fiction that includes them. Why can’t we have, I don’t know, a fantasy novel with an MC who crossdresses in addition to whatever else they do? Or something else. Most of those descriptions seem very limiting.
-person who really wants a good trans fantasy novel
Well said, Traduit! I totally agree.
I don’t know. I think community is very often based on affinity–but I feel comfortable and happy with a place when it welcomes me and everyone, not when it contains people exactly like me.
Sorry, that was a bit wishy-washy–that is, I agree with the need for literature by and for trans people–but these divisions do seem a little strait, and unnecessary.
I think I agree, but what divisions do you mean?
Well–(I shouldn’t do this before coffee)–I see Trans Lit, like Women’s Lit and Queer Lit, to be more about implementing an inclusive principle than finding a checklist. It seems like novels about “gender-fluid” or “third-gender” people would be very interesting to binary-gendered trans people as well, and vice versa. As long as gender variance is marginalized as a whole, many problems will remain the same.
I think the crossover problem is largely a myth, particularly outside privileged groups that have any number of representations to choose from. Maybe I’m special, but if there were a book about any kind of trans theme, with any kind of trans character, by any kind of trans author, that was not at all stupid, I’d want to read it right away. Everyone I know went around devouring everything–and when they were turned off by a particular author, it wasn’t because of difference but because of ignorance.
That having been said, it’d be grand to walk into a bookstore and see every single variant represented. Even if you wouldn’t need or even want a Binary-Gendered Trans Women Section and a Third-Gender-Identified Section, and a Genderqueer Not Trans-Identified Section, and so on.
Yes! Spot on. I completely agree with the rest of your comment as well, and I think it touches on why I was disappointed with the Lambda Literary post: it highlighted people’s differences rather than reminding readers that we all search for a part of ourselves. (Hence the perhaps-forced reflection title of my post…)
That having been said, I don’t think internal debates/kvetching about certain trans-lit tropes are misconceived. I think all the complaints about trans/ition memoirs, for example, are right. And I think it’s also important to acknowledge that certain kinds of trans narratives–from certain kinds of trans people–will be published sooner, and in greater numbers. And it’s true that some of the ignorance I mentioned above is because of different life experiences and the paucity of varying gender-variant voices in the emerging canon.
But still: it seems like there’s a huge amount of community reading, and I think that’s a wonderful thing. I think the overlap is a really good way to tie people together: it can develop affinities based on reality, not either mainstream blurring or prejudice.
Elizabeth Bear has an awesome intersexed character! I relate more to the variety of individual characters in her books than to any writings I’ve found that go out of their way to tell trans* stories.
Anyway, now that the fankid moment is out of the way, I think that the trans* movement itself is so splintered that there isn’t a single trans* literature that everyone who identifies as some flavor of trans* and/or gender-variant can relate to. At a very basic level, there are two dominant narratives (right-gender-wrong-body and gender-as-a-social-construct-to-be-deconstructed) that are at extreme right angles. So I can see where she’s coming from with the sense of “not all fiction featuring trans* people is going to appeal to all trans* people”. I think she drew those dividing lines at arbitrary and unhelpful places, but if we look at first-person trans* narratives we can see the very real conflicts that emerge, as one persons experience may implicitly devalue someone else’s.
Anyway, I think fiction that features specific gender-variant characters is generally going to be more appealing than fiction that is writing for a particular audience.
I’ll have to check Elizabeth Bear out!
I do think I disagree a bit about there not being “some flavor of trans* and/or gender-variant can relate to.” I totally agree that the trans population is or can be splintered and faction-filled, but I’d imagine all people under the trans* umbrella can relate to the general idea of not fitting within society’s assigned slots of gender in some way shape or form.
You do hit on the meat of the matter, though, of the two main gender theory camps. (And I like the way you phrase their arguments.) I guess I naively don’t see why reality should be viewed as either extreme – labeling gender as purely a social construct is dismissive of certain people’s experiences and biologically/anatomically foolish, but claiming gender is 100% innate is likewise dismissive and culturally silly. But I think I would enjoy reading about the experiences of someone with either extreme viewpoint, even if I would disagree with them.
I am curious about this. Maybe this is nitpicking, but I don’t know that someone’s experiences can devalue someone else. I totally agree that someone’s opinions or viewpoints can devalue someone, and those viewpoints will inevitably arise out of their experiences, but I do think the two things are separate. Or should be, anyway.
Thanks for chiming in, though, Blake! I hope you’ll stick around and comment in the future, too.