Sci-fi, fantasy, both or neither; these queer girls are on fire
A few months ago, my first 'Swift Riffle' post covered a few of my favourite gay relationships and characters throughout speculative fiction (and a little beyond). Today I'll do the same for some truly wonderful lesbian characters, alongside a bit of context for their stories and how their sexuality impacts their lives. I've mentioned many of these characters before, but there are also a few who will be making their debut here today.
Happy Pride!
Queer relationships are (thankfully) becoming more and more prevalent in popular speculative fiction, as will certainly become clear over the course of this reflection. This became clear to me when reading "The Resident" by Carmen Maria Machado in The Best American Science Fiction And Fantasy 2018. (These short story collections opened my eyes to a lot of how much it is possible to convey in the genre.)
Machado's tense and atmospheric story demonstrated the ease with which a character can be established as queer simply and quietly, without having to frame the whole narrative around it. Her 2019 memoir In the Dream House is a masterpiece, exploring the very real and grim possibility of abuse in queer relationships. A friend of mine may come in and guest-write a post about it here one day!
Gideon and Harrow by May12324
While we're touching on the darker side of things, let me introduce you to the (second?) most famous lesbian duo on the list: Gideon Nav and Harrowhark Nonagesimus from Tamsyn Muir's Gideon the Ninth. Harrow is the scion and heir of the ancient and enigmatic Ninth House, and Gideon is her whipping girl turned bodyguard. Their relationship deserves its own post to untangle, but suffice to say I think Muir's intentions for these characters got a little refracted upon moving into the real world.
Still, Gideon and its sequels offer plenty queer, sardonic, gritty and explosive fun while maintaining a brilliant and unique sci-fi backdrop. Harrow and Gideon are joined by an audaciously queer and loveable cast, and together they could put on a Pride celebration to wake the dead.
Touraine and Luca by Marceline2174
One last bit of mixed discussion before we get to the purely positive. Touraine and Luca are from C.L. Clark's The Unbroken, which I wrote about a while back. I loved both of these characters – Touraine the colonized soldier seeing her homeland for the first time and Luca the disabled colonizer princess slowly recognizing the horrors of her nation's actions – but was a little disturbed by how quickly and easily they got together.
It certainly mirrors the issues with Harrow and Gideon's relationship, and generally serves me as a cautionary reminder that an author's vision can sometimes conflict with the themes they are trying to explore. (I could also see this being the fault of the publisher, if they wanted to sell this as a lesbian novel in the same vein as many successful books on this list.)
Csorwe and Shuthmili by Exmakina
A.K. Larkwood's Serpent Gates duology has been on the fringes of my blog for a while, getting mentions in the last Swift Riffle and in my post about worldbuilding. (Apparently this is the only series to be mentioned on both the Gay and Lesbian representation lists, so she's doing something right!)
Csorwe is an orcish (Oshaaru) doomed priestess-turned-adventurer, and serves as the series' main point of view character. On a job she meets Shuthmili, a human (Qarsazhi) wizard bound to eventually dissolve her mind upon joining the elite merged-consciousness Quincuriate. The pair have a lot of obstacles in their path to any kind of safe life together.
Csorwe and Shuthmili are a powerful example to me of complementary individuals finding and supporting one another. Their cautious bond is the utter opposite of Talasseres and Belthandros in the same series, and may well be my favourite lesbian relationship right now.
Rosemary and Sissix by Akogii
I wanted to give a quick shout-out to Rosemary and Sissix from Becky Chambers' The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet. Where Gideon the Ninth is bombastic fun and This is How You Lose the Time War is epic poetry, this book is simply lovely. The cast is endlessly likeable and diverse enough to put even the new Star Trek shows to shame. In this book, a lesbian relationship between Rosemary (human) and Sissix (Aandrisk) is barely remarked upon – outside the fact that they do technically work together.
Theirs isn't a story about challenging the status quo, but instead about what a better world might look like – and I love it to bits.
Red and Blue by LayaArt
My friends and I spent hours discussing these incredible characters in my multimedia post about This is How You Lose the Time War. As Joanna said in that video, Red and Blue in many ways transcend our societal understanding of gender and sexuality – but they are also presented as female and their relationship feels indelibly queer. If nothing else, this book and these characters taught me about the romance of language in a way that no 19th-century poet ever achieved.
Baru and Tain Hu by Marceline2174
Finally, Baru – who I introduced in my transhumanism series. Unlike the rest discussed today, Baru's lesbian identity is hidden and would spell the end of her life if revealed. For better or worse, she is dealing with cryptarchs who will always prefer to hold a secret over her for leverage than carelessly let it slip.
Baru does find comfort in the arms of the powerful and charismatic Tain Hu for a time, but her world is harsh and circumstances can change at the drop of a pin. Still, I find this a remarkable portrayal of exploring closeted queerness – especially considering this is the only series I've discussed today written by a (presumably straight) man. And the author of This is How You Lose the Time War and others agree.
I'll end today with what I found to be quite a meaningful part of Baru's story. She is logically brilliant – with numbers, strategy and so on – and at one point reaches a deep internal conflict between Falcrest's colonizing ideals (essentially the tenets of Christianity) and her own experience of life as a lesbian, with three parents, etc.
In her mind, she needs to find a flaw in the oppressor's logic or else will feel forced to adopt it for herself and internalize her own nature as aberrant. She is asking a long-considered real world question: why and how would queerness be selected for by evolution, since genes are passed down through heterosexual couples?
The cathartic answer she arrives at is that gay and lesbian individuals give a social benefit to their straight siblings and relatives, making it more likely that their genes will be passed on –author Seth Dickinson was almost certainly inspired by this 2014 article or one similar.
This moment means everything to Baru, helping to justify all she has fought for. It made her proud to be queer, and did the same for me.
Thanks for reading, and Happy Pride Month!
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