Within the history of the queer community, is the history of scandal. Queerness in and of itself is still widely viewed as a juicy source of gossip. Whether that be people speculating and publicly discussing theories about celebrities’ sexual orientation or gender identity, or revealing private aspects of queer peoples’ sexual lives, or asking questions about their genitals. Once a person comes out as queer, the people in their lives often feel entitled to a level of disclosure they would never ask for from someone who isn’t queer. Another community that often experiences the complete disregard for their privacy is that of celebrities. Because of this, the intersection of queerness and celebrity is one where little respect and cautious benefit of the doubt is seen.
We’ve covered many different kinds of rule-breakers before. From art forgers, regular forgers, and of course the ever-present reality that any expression of queerness has in and of itself been banned in many different spaces and times. Alexandru Bogdan-Pitești was a thief, a political agitator, con artist, and kept close company with others who broke social conventions as well as laws. Throughout all of these parts of his life, Alexandru Bogdan-Pitești still somehow remained a man with a steady moral compass, though it was slightly hard to understand at times.
Xulhaz Mannan
American voices are some of the most represented in queer discussions; this allows for little diversity in the experiences of queer people from other countries. In countries where queerness is illegal, the most prominent voices come from those who immigrated from those counties or are refugees. Leaving their countries by choice or not, their stories are important. Just as important are the stories of those people who stayed; Xulhaz Mannan is one of those people.
One of the most famous pop stars from Hong Kong, Leslie Cheung’s short life is subject to intense speculation. Before he came out, he was constantly questioned and pestered about his sexuality. That makes it all the more unfortunate that once he did come out as bisexual, everyone promptly ignored his declaration and decided he was gay instead.
Artists are often deeply rooted in one country. For Amrita Sher-Gil it was India. David Paynter had Sri Lanka. Claudio Bravo had not one country, but many. Moving from his native Chile, he travelled through America, Morocco, Spain, and the Philippines without seeming too attached to any one country. A relatively successful painter, he was allowed more freedom to explore the world than many of his contemporaries and gave much more attention to his love of painting than any nationalistic inclination.
An iconic drag queen from New Zealand, Carmen Rupe was well known for many things. An activist, runner of a brothel, politician, and performer, her life was a full one. Though the people within her community were very fond of her, and she is remembered as one of the great game-changers of the time, she was not completely well-liked. Police and politicians both had at best rocky relationships with the woman and at worst violently hated her and all she stood for. Despite all the obstacles set up for her to trip over, Carmen was able to live to the relatively old age of seventy-five before she died of kidney failure.
The most discussed portion of Jarosław Iwaszkiewicz’s life is his work; as an incredibly influential poet, playwright, essayist, and translator who deeply affected the Polish art scene, this is not surprising. What is surprising is the depth of information about his life that is too often glossed over. From his participation in hiding Jewish refugees, his information stopping an attempted Nazi coup in Denmark, and his consistently loving relationship with his wife and children as a gay man, there is much to discuss outside of his writing.
A complex issue within the queer community, and looking back we see it has been an issue throughout queer history, is that of adultery. Something often painted as a clear black and white issue becomes blurrier as you look at it through a queer lens. In an ideal world, everyone would communicate with their partners and be transparent about their wants and needs, but that is not the world we live in nor have we ever. The further back you go, the more confusing the decision becomes. It is difficult to pass judgment on a queer person who may have been pressured to marry or enter a relationship for seeking people outside of that arrangement. While there is a glorious history of spouses supporting their queer partners, that is not a universal or even common experience.
The first decision to be made when writing about Claude Cahun is which pronouns to use. There are convincing arguments to be made for both she/her/hers and they/them/theirs; she/her/hers because that is what was used for Cahun when they were alive and used themself; they/them/theirs because of their oft-discussed detachment from being a woman or a man. The decision of they/them/theirs was made because that is the appropriate choice when one is unsure of what pronouns to use. This was the first question that was asked in the course of writing this article, but not nearly the last.
Netflix’s new Spanish history film, Elisa y Marcela, features a fascinating historical queer couple. The movie, based on real events, details how two Spanish teachers became known as the first same-sex couple to be married in Spain. The movie itself attempted to portray a heart wrenching and beautiful love story, but one has to take it upon themselves to see if the “real events” the movie was based on telling the same story.
Victoria Arellano
Victoria Arellano moved to the United States of America from Mexico to live with her mother, Olga, in California when she was seven years old. From a young age, she knew she was transgender, drawing herself in pictures as a crying woman, and writing poetry about her identity. She would put on makeup before going to school, and sneak out of her window to avoid fighting with her disapproving mother.
A Scottish lesbian journalist who was frequently underestimated, Evelyn Irons was a prominent member of the queer community in the 1900s. Given her influence, you might see some familiar names from the era. We have the pleasure of going over some prominent women loving women and seeing the tangled lines that connect so many lived.
The more time passes the more debate rises over the content of one's life. This is due in large part to the availability and reliability of primary sources—or lack thereof—as time passes. There is more time for nuances discussion. Further still is the claim to a legacy. The more influential a person was, the more people want to claim them. This is very much the case with thirteenth-century poet and Islamic scholar Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī.
The legacy of many trans people is complicated. That’s not an inherently bad thing, either; being transgender can be complex. Treating one’s relationship to gender with care and room for contradictions is healthy. Sometimes, though, a spade is just a spade. In the case of Edward De Lacy Evans, a man is just a man.
From the outside looking in, success can seem like an overnight process: a nobody one day and a star the next. Add the disconnection we have from most of history, and it can be difficult to see how much effort goes into the careers of the greats. That is not an issue with Ondrej Nepela, Olympic gold medalist, a man whose own coach admitted he wasn't "particularly talented."