HQ FEELS

on the one hand it is clear from her work that she understands how patriarchy and similar systems of power and oppression (notably classism) work, as well as an understanding of Why They Are Bad that goes beyond the typical "girlboss" or "men bad" forms of feminism.

I began trying to answer this question because I thought it would be an interesting quest to try and create it.

I came up with several potential components of an answer:

It corresponds to reality. On Youtube I began watching some of the oldest videos that had ever been uploaded, from 20 years ago. At the time, these videos were simple moments in real human life, but now, in an era when many of these records are no longer extant due to the passage of time, and millions of fake videos could be created using AI, these videos become extremely meaningful because they represent reality from two decades prior.

It is intensely intentional. Every stroke, every word, every sound, every image, would be specifically selected and chosen or created for this project. Nothing could be included thoughtlessly; everything would have purpose behind it.

It is unique because of an artist's unique vision, intention, and process of creating. A similar piece could not be easily created because it is so heavily influenced by the decisions the artist made, the skills and experiences they have or do not have, and the process of assembling the piece.

It comes from physical interaction with the physical world. Even if the art was presented in a digital form, it would have to be created through the artist's interactions with physical objects. The artist's interaction with the material world would be obvious in every part of the piece.

The origins of each constituent part could be tracked down and understood. You could investigate and learn how each part was created and where the pre-existing materials came from.

The act of creating it would be crucial to what it is. The art would not just be a finished product, but the actual process and motivation of creating it.

I say that these are part of an answer because none of them in isolation are the answer, and together they do not form a complete answer. A complete answer is impossible. But they form a very interesting basis for an art project.

Is it just me, or has Georgette Heyer kind of... gone away? Ten, maybe fifteen years ago, she was a name I'd hear quite often. Especially in the circles of science fiction and fantasy fandom that also overlapped with the avid readership of Jane Austen or Patrick O'Brian, she was often recommended as a sort of Austen methadone. Over at Tor.com, as it was then known, fantasy author Mari Ness did a whole season of reading through Heyer's voluminous back-catalogue. These days, even as romance writing—and especially Regency romance, the subgenre that Heyer arguably created—has gained enormous mainstream visibility, and as science fiction and fantasy romance has become its own wildly successful subgenre, Heyer seems to come up less and less. One might have expected the success of Bridgerton, for example, to inspire some film or TV adaptations of her books (it was, after all, the reason the Austen fanfic series Sanditon came back from being cancelled after its first season), but so far nothing.

This might be one of those cases where the answer is contained in the question. The reason fewer people are reading Heyer is that, although she more or less created Regency romance, there are so many people writing within it now that readers looking for something like Jane Austen, but not quite, have a lot of other options on offer. Which makes it easier to notice the problems with Heyer, or simply the ways in which her style has fallen out of fashion. There is no sex in her books (and no queerness, obviously), but there are poisonous sexual mores—all her heroes have had mistresses who are, quite obviously to them and everyone around them, not the sort of woman one marries, while her heroines, even at the moment of declaring their love to their HEA, feel obliged to "resist" any physical display of affection. Her books are rife with chauvinism, antisemitism, and most of all classism (and frankly, I think the only reason racism is absent is that everyone in these books is white), and while this is arguably more realistic than a lot of starry-eyed modern Regency romances, it is also a reflection of Heyer's own prejudices.

Still, I took in all those recommendations a decade or more ago, and while I may be slow I will usually get around to reading something if a lot of people tell me I should. In the last year I've ended up reading a lot of Heyer—mostly stuff I had in my enormous TBR, or found at a used bookstore, or at the local library, so there's not a lot of intentional choice happening here. I'm not here to say that Heyer is an overlooked gem. All those problems noted above are very much present in her writing, and in addition she has some favorite tropes that she goes back to again and again—in a mere twelve books, the plot strand in which one character is kidnapped across the channel to France, while another character pursues them, going deep into the logistics of finding them and catching them up, recurs a surprising number of times. But she's nevertheless a more interesting writer than I think is commonly acknowledged today, more likely to pay attention to the psychology of her characters (and not in the modern, sometimes quite exhausting, therapy-speak way), and more interested in her setting (Heyer also wrote historical fiction, and some of her romances shade into that genre). I dipped into some of Julia Quinn's Bridgerton novels this year as well, and I have to say, beyond the fact that Heyer is just a better writer, it's a bit more palatable to encounter nasty sexual politics in novels written in the 40s and 50s, than to have to accept that the implied threat of sexual violence is but a stepping stone to true love from a writer whose books were published only twenty years ago.

Below are some thoughts on the Heyer books I've read so far. I will add to them when and as I read new ones, though I think I will continue to leave the selection of those books to happenstance.

S-Tier

Cotillion (1953) - This is the first Heyer I ever read, and to an extent it has spoiled me for the rest of her writing by being such a high water mark. Kitty Charing has been informed by her guardian that she will be forced to marry one of his nephews, and instead decides to run off to the city to find her own match, with the help of gadabout Freddy. The two end up first pretending to be engaged, and then trying to throw Kitty in the path of eligible bachelors, while inevitably falling in love themselves. This is a great book first because it's extremely funny. Heyer had a great ear for the absurd slang of the fashionable London set, and gets a lot of mileage out of Kitty's cheerful refusal to let logic or common sense stop her, and Freddy's Regency himbo antics. More importantly—and rather rarely for Heyer's writing—Kitty and Freddy are true equals. They're both a bit silly and a lot sheltered, but also able to rise to the occasion when it's required, and they lock into each other's wavelength early in the novel and never let go. Inasmuch as they change each other, it's only in revealing that they are able to pull off audacious schemes when someone they care about needs them to, and you can imagine the two of them having a long, ridiculous partnership in crime for the rest of their lives.

Sylvester, or the Wicked Uncle (1957) - Informed that Lord Sylvester, who has a bad reputation that is only partly earned, is about to propose marriage to her, Phoebe runs off with her best friend Tom. When the two of them run into trouble on the road, they are rescued by none other than Sylvester, which throws him and Phoebe together for extended periods, with predictable results. This format—older, powerful man; younger, sheltered woman—is one that Heyer returns to quite often, but it works better here than in any other of her novels. Sylvester isn't cruel or a rake; he's arrogant and high-handed, though often with some justification (most of his bad reputation comes from his self-absorbed, thoughtless sister-in-law). Phoebe isn't a naif, but an intelligent woman with a hidden career as an author that she's quite devoted to. The two of them develop a compelling friendship long before they fall in love, rooted in the fact that they are often the smartest person in the room, and able to help each other steer a tricky situation towards calm waters. The twist that threatens their relationship—before meeting him, Phoebe wrote a novel in which the villain was a thinly-veiled version of Sylvester—is highly original, and the novel's final act, in which Sylvester must pursue Phoebe and his kidnapped nephew into France, is one of the most hilarious sequences I've ever read. By the time the two get together, it's obvious that they could only be happy with each other.

Good

False Colors (1963) - Returning from his diplomatic post abroad, Kit Fancot discovers that his twin brother Evelyn has disappeared, right before he was about to propose to Cressida Stavely. Persuaded by his mother to impersonate his twin for one night, Kit quickly finds himself hosting Cressida and a whole raft of other characters in his country home, while trying to keep up the charade and, of course, keep from falling in love with Cressida himself. This is a book that's interesting more for the background than the main romance—Kit and Cressida are quite sweet, but more because they're a point of calm amidst the chaos of all their relatives and friends. But it's that chaos—especially Kit's mother, an airheaded inveterate gambler whom Kit nevertheless adores— that is the real source of the novel's fun. The fact that Kit and Cressida are able to put all the various crises around them to rest is what convinces you that they will be a good couple, but it's not their further adventures that you'd like to follow.

Charity Girl (1970) - While visiting relatives, Ashley Desford encounters Charity Steane, the penniless ward of a family who are mistreating her. When Ashley later finds Charity running away, he convinces her to let him try to find her a respectable situation, and places her with his childhood friend Henrietta Silverdale. In any other novel you'd expect Ashley and Charity to fall in love (and indeed this is what several characters in the novel assume—when they're not assuming something more salacious). Instead, Ashley's efforts to untangle Charity's family situation, get the best of her odious relatives, and find a safe place for her are a method of throwing him in company with Henrietta, whom he has for years insisted is only a friend. It turns out that Ashley and Henrietta, having rebelled against their families' plan to marry them off at a too-young age, have been shame-facedly pretending that they haven't fallen in love for ten years, and it's only by becoming jointly responsible for Charity that they can work their way around this predicament. The stakes aren't particularly high, but the scenario is original enough (especially for Heyer) to make this a worthwhile read.

Interesting

These Old Shades (1926) - Infamous rake Justin Alastair encounters a runaway, Léon, on the streets of Paris and takes him in as his page. It doesn't take long to realize that Léon is actually Léonie, but the untangling of her convoluted family history—a tale of swapped babies, mistaken identities, and false heirs—is the business of much of the novel, during which, of course, Justin and Léonie also fall in love. The potboiler plot is quite fun, as is Léonie herself—having pretended to be a boy for years, she is at once indifferent to the mores she's expected to adopt as a respectable young lady, and immediately won over by fancy clothes and balls, which allows her to triumph over opponents in both high and low society. But this can't quite get around the problem that Justin is twice Léonie's age, and also a pretty bad person (the character previously appeared in The Black Moth (1921), where he was the villain, and a subplot in These Old Shades even throws Justin into the company a woman he had kidnapped in the previous book). Despite the force of Léonie's argument that she actually wants to be with Justin, this is a book better enjoyed for its rollicking, adventurous middle than its romantic conclusion.

An Infamous Army (1937) - Heyer was simply mad for the Napoleonic wars, and this is one of several books she wrote set in and around them. As aristocrats and officers await the arrival of Napoleon's army in Brussels, Colonel Charles Audley encounters Lady Barbara Childe, a widow with a scandalous reputation. The two feel an instant, powerful attraction, but end up having to navigate Barbara's habit of playing games with her suitors, and Charles's impatience with them, before the battle of Waterloo erupts and forces them both to confront more pressing issues while also realizing the depth of their feelings for each other. It's nice to have a central couple who are older, more experienced people, but An Infamous Army steps away from Charles and Barbara quite often. Sometimes this is quite interesting—the absurdity of 18th century warfare, with Wellington throwing balls for the who's who gathered in Brussels while everyone debates when to flee the city—and at other points quite tedious—several subplots in which Charles's extended family play forgettable matchmaking games. In the end, however, Heyer's interest is in Waterloo itself, with the novel culminating in an 80-page, blow-by-blow description of the battle. This can sometimes be quite moving, when it captures the sheer extent of the carnage, or the confusion of individual officers. But mostly it's just descriptions of military tactics, which is not what I signed up for when I picked up a Regency romance. By the time Charles and Barbara find their way back to each other, you'll mostly be feeling exhausted rather than overjoyed.

A Civil Contract (1961) - Adam Deveril is called home from the peninsula by the news that his father, a viscount, has died, and that the family finances are in such dire straits that Adam may be forced to sell their ancestral estate. The only solution, Adam is quickly made to realize, is for him to marry rich, to which end he's introduced to Jenny Chawleigh, the daughter of a fantastically rich but boorish merchant. In most books we'd expect Adam and Jenny to fall in love, and it takes a while to realize that this is not going to happen. Adam continues to think wistfully about Julia, the woman he had been attached to before his finances made the idea of proposing to her impossible, and the narrative is at pains to point out that he doesn't feel any attraction towards Jenny. What A Civil Contract is about, instead, is class relations. The complicated push and pull between Adam and Jonathan as they negotiate one's social position, and the other's wealth; the delicate negotiations between Adam and Jenny as she learns to understand the importance of tradition to him, and he realizes that she is actually capable of being a great viscountess if he just trusts her a little. The whole thing is a lot more Edith Wharton than Jane Austen, with some great scenes in which Adam is torn between genuine appreciation of Jonathan's energy and intelligence, and disgust at his determination to tear down everything old and replace it with whatever is newest and most expensive. In the end, however, it's all a bit too bleak, and Heyer doesn't quite have the courage to let us sit with that. She tries to assure us that Adam and Jenny have found a genuine partner in each other, and that this, too, is a form of love, but this is not very convincing. In the hands of another author, A Civil Contract would have been the half-tragedy it actually is.

Meh

The Convenient Marriage (1934) - Intending to propose to the eldest Winwood sister, who is already in love with someone else, the Earl of Rule is persuaded, by her younger sister Horatia, to marry her instead. That's basically the story—a marriage of convenience for both parties that turns into a romance. But while in other books Heyer has made a meal of this premise, The Convenient Marriage never convinces you of either its lovers being especially suited to each other, or the rather thin obstacles it places in their path. There are some interesting worldbuilding details—some information about how the invitations to Almack's used to work, or about the mechanics and norms of duel-fighting. And towards the end, there are some good scenes in which Horatia has to outsmart a kidnapper, or her brother has to arrange a highway robbery to retrieve a stolen jewel that might destroy her reputation. But ultimately, the fact that this is all in service of a couple who aren't particularly engaging (and whose age difference—35 and 17—is hard to get over) makes the whole thing a bit of a slog.

Cousin Kate (1968) - Kate Malvern is at the end of her rope, having been chased off yet another governess position by an employer with wandering hands, when a long-lost aunt invites her to visit her country home. When Kate arrives, she soon realizes that her aunt Minerva plans to pressure her to marry her cousin Torquil, and that there are secrets in the estate and the family that are being kept from her. This is Heyer working in the Gothic mode, complete with an isolated great house, a young woman being manipulated and lied to, and a dreadful family secret. It's reasonably well done for what it is, but there were better authors than Heyer working in the Gothic mode—by 1968 you could have read something like Mary Stewart's The Ivy Tree (1961) or Nine Coaches Waiting (1958), both of which do something much more interesting, innovative things with the Gothic form than Heyer is even attempting. Finally, there is the fact that the dark secret being kept from Kate has to do with mental illness, whose handling is as tragic and sensationalized as you might expect from this author and era.

Yikes

Devil’s Cub (1932) - The sequel to These Old Shades, this book centers on Justin and Léonie's son Vidal, who has all of his parents' faults and none of their charms. After killing a man in a duel, he schemes to run off with a silly middle class girl, whom he of course feels no compunction about ruining. When her sister Mary takes her place, Vidal is shocked to realize that he has compromised a "respectable" woman, and tries to convince her to marry him. There are further twists, but none of them can get around the fact that the main character of this book is odious, and that the supposed love story between him and the girl he has kidnapped and ruined is highly unconvincing. Not helping matters is that an older Léonie periodically appears to explain that her son has done nothing wrong and that marrying Mary will obviously be the best thing for him, which frankly feels too much like the voice of the author for comfort.

The Spanish Bride (1940) - Based on the real experiences of Captain Harry Smith and his Spanish war bride Juana, this is another novel deeply rooted in the minutiae of the Napoleonic wars, beginning on the peninsula and culminating, of course, in Waterloo. In itself this might simply be boring, but right off the bat we get a scene in which Harry and other officers stand back while their soldiers, enraged after the bloody siege of Badajoz, murder and rape their way through the town for several days. Harry's marriage to Juana is arranged in the wake of this atrocity as a means of protecting her, despite her being only fourteen years old. The rest of the novel is spent careening between detailed descriptions of various battles, and cutesy interludes between Harry and Juana as they settle into their marriage—Harry often exasperated by Juana's stubbornness and emotional outbursts (I don't know, man; if you didn't want a wife who behaves like a child, maybe you shouldn't have married a child); Juana almost slavishly devoted to him but also prone to jealousy and anxiety. (Harry Smith left copious journals so one assumes his side of the story is fairly realistic; Juana Smith's feelings on the whole matter are, as far as I know, lost to history.) The whole thing is alternately boring and gross.

I now wish I could point to an article describing that phenomenon because I'm sure I either read one or saw a presentation in Glasgow about it. Sadly, at the moment, I'm drawing a complete blank (we can only assume the author of the piece was a woman).

Also a 1950 film adaptation of The Reluctant Widow so bad rumour had it Heyer herself forbade any future film adaptations, although Heyer biographer Jennifer Kloester disputes that pretty vigorously - and also mentions a modern adaptation of The Grand Sophy. (Sadly looking to be in development hell though...)

All that said, I don't know if Heyer has faded, so much as she has never quite hit the same mainstream, everyday name recognition as Austen. Still, she remains in print (and from my most recent search, I even see new covers!). Despite her noted flaws, she is so influential, not just as the founder of the modern regency romance, but perhaps amongst surprisingly many fantasy/sf writers (right here on tumblr, SARAH REES BRENNAN!? Inevitably all authors I love, love Heyer, it just keeps happening...)

YQY without SQQ is kind, attentive, but also dissociative. He experiences long periods where he retreats into xuan su. Mu Qingfang doesn’t know exactly why he becomes so aware when in the presence of SQQ, but he understands enough to know it’s best to have him around for important meetings.

Hence YQY has a ‘SQQ prescription’ all the other peak lords know about. Anything important must have the pair. All the peak lords know that Yue Qingyuan is absolutely useless without Shen Qingqiu, which is why he is always listed on outings to important dignitaries and such. And that way the sect leader can be sharp as possible when dealing with foreign affairs.

One day, Shen Jiu overhears a conversation to the effect of: we need to fill up YQY’s prescription soon, because he’s been spacing out a lot during the new disciple trainings. Thinking this strange and being hyper-paranoid, Shen Jiu decides to use one of his artifacts to disguise himself as a random disciple and spy on YQY.

What he finds is Yue Qingyuan, sorting through paper as if on autopilot. Face blank. His eyes scarily unfeeling. The only thing that seems to have any life in the room is Xuan Su, who is on the table and practically vibrating with energy. The disciples all try and rouse Shizun with food, training, etc, but nothing seems to work until YQY eventually gets up, says goodnight to his head disciple, and shuts himself in his leisure house to be alone for the night.

SQQ begins searching through his leisure house the next day, but doesn’t find anything. Then he tries to find out exactly what is wrong with YQY from MQF, who refuses to commit a xianxia HIPA violation. Frustrated, he starts interrogating Shang Qinghua, who gives vague hints and alludes to something being wrong, but is shockingly tight-lipped as to what is actually the matter.

The worst thing is probably the fact that YQY appears totally fine during his visits to SQQ! Which is driving him crazy! Don’t pretend like everything is fine if it’s not! And SQQ becomes so bitter about not being told what’s going on that he blows up at Qi-ge and tells him to stop visiting (which is typical), but it causes something to happen that this time he notices.

For a brief second, YQY’s gaze goes from lively, almost sparkling, to totally blank. As if a candle is blown out. As if the soul is pulled from his body, he goes cold. It only lasts a second, but Shen Jiu sees it this time. He notices the micro expression as YQY plasters on another smile. He sees it all and doesn’t know what to do. Because Qi-ge has to be sick but isn’t telling him anything. What is he supposed to do?

I just think Shang Qinghua should get so angry one time that he unconsciously overrides the System and unlocks Admin privileges and just deletes entire clans out of existance in the blink of an eye while going "writing you in was a mistake".

And I also think everyone who saw that refuses to ever talk about it, but they're all scared shitless of the tiny human by Mobei-jun's side now because they realize he's not just really smart and an amazing strategist, he's also a god and can kill them all in 0.5 seconds. And now they all think that Shang Qinghua is actually the one running the show and Mobei-jun is just, like, the face of the Northern kingdom only.

Had to lay it down, I can't stand these marry/sue characters.

agreed! i think we get so little from both characters in the novel tbh, that it’s just kind of a vast blank space with plenty of room to add romance if one wishes. but there is no real textual support for it.

physicist: i think it's science which separates humans from animals

linguist: but lots of people don't do science. and anyway, how would people publish their research without language? language is a necessary precursor to science

physicist: i don't mean the specific ways that we do formal science and research, i mean more like how humans analyze their environment to learn, rather than relying on instinct

zoologist: well lots of animals are capable of curiosity and learning. some species are even known to make and use tools. and as for language, while no animal aside from humans has been known to be capable of the narrow linguistic definition of 'language', many of them are capable of quite advanced forms of communication, and really, it's pretty unfair to say that the communication methods that other animals use are 'lesser' just because they don't fit the human standard. if you tried to teach a human to use bee communication, they would probably struggle as well. in the end, i don't think that humans should be considered separate from animals

linguist: you make some interesting points, but i still think that human language is superior for communication compared to other forms of animal communication because human languages allow for infinite regresses of embedded metalanguages, which makes it possible to talk about any aspect of consensus reality, at least theoretically

physicist: your comparison with other animals lacks nuance. sure, there are animals aside from humans who are capable of reasoning and tool use, but humans are far cleverer and can create for more advanced tools than any other animal-

linguist (under her breath): because language allowed humans to pass on increasingly complicated information for how to create increasingly complex tools

physicist: -if you could show me an animal that was capable of advanced metallurgy or something of that ilk, then maybe i can believe that they're not so different from humans, but i don't think there is anything like that native to earth

zoologist: you're both biased because you're humans, and you want to have a rational reason to justify your instinctual feeling of kinship with other humans over other, non-human animals. yes, humans do have particularly good reasoning, tool use, and communication abilities, but even if humans are especially good at them, they're still all things that other animals do in a more general sense, so i still don't think that they should be sufficient for considering humans as separate from the rest of the animal kingdom

theologian: you're all talking around each other here. you all have different standards for what is and is not significant, so even if you can agree on the facts, you will never agree on the conclusions. but there is one thing that sets humans apart that none of you have considered: humans are separate because humans --unlike animals-- were given a higher purpose by god

gastronome: the answer is cooking, by the way. we're the only species that prepares our food

zoologist: we are certainly not the only species that prepares our food. famously, a certain group of macaque monkeys have been observed to clean their food and season it with saltwater. as for more cooking-like preparations, big headed ants marinate their food in the spit of their larvae to make it easier to digest. it's not exactly the same method, but it has a similar result of making the food quicker to eat and easier to digest. cooking in particular as a method of preparing food is unique to humans for now, but i have little doubt that you could teach a macaque how to make fire and they would be inventing new culinary traditions within a generation

gastronome: fine, other animals prepare their food, but cooking still makes us special. preparing food by cleaning is it so much more basic, and monkeys being capable of learning to cook is just speculation. and that whole thing with ants is specifically because ant's waists are too small for large bits of food to pass through; it's resulting from a completely different type of evolutionary pressure

zoologist: we don't really know the evolution of ant digestive tracts that well, and it's best not to assume that they started using larvae spit because they had narrow waists; maybe they were able to evolve narrow waists because they could rely on larvae spit. after all, humans would have a difficult time eating raw meat with how our teeth and jaws currently are, but we're pretty certain that we only became like that after we started cooking

linguist: cooking may be somewhat unique as a form of food preparation, but language is unique as a form of communication, and i still feel that language is the more important thing to our identity as a species and our moral considerations. if an animal started cooking, they would be a curiosity, but if an animal started talking, we would have to accept them as an equal

physicist: cooking is only possible because of fire, which i would argue is just another example of technology borne of humanity's unique ingenuity.

gastronome: cooking was pivotal in human evolution though: it allowed people to extract more energy from their food, and coincided with increased brain size. the language and ingenuity which humans demonstrate is only possible because of cooking

major league baseball pitcher: ya know, i've never seen an animal pitch a fastball

[all look to zoologist]

zoologist: yeah, no, you're right. throwing is pretty unique to humans. no other animal specializes in it

i've documented 19 moments featuring sy!shen qingqiu's feelings for yue qingyuan with the express purpose of showing those who think that sy!sqq doesn't like yqy that they are factually WRONG

this is a long one so buckle up, grab a snack, get a drink, etc etc

excuse me while i fangirl for a minute

OKAY SO. sqq here is actively trying not to blame binghe for stuff he hasn't done. because he' been doing that, lately. but what's important in these scene is that his first question is "Is Zhangmen-shixiong all right?". Immediate response, instant concern.

also catch shen "the protagonist is the protagonist is the bestest in the world" qingqiu casually letting drop that LUO BINGHE, the PROTAGONIST, couldn't defeat yue qingyuan ever and had to use a trap instead

It must be known that Luo Binghe and Yue Qingyuan had fought head-to-head several times in Proud Immortal Demon Way, and not once had Luo Binghe gotten the better of the sect leader. In the end, he had needed to use the original flavor Shen Qingqiu to drive that sect leader to his horrific death, pierced through by ten thousand arrows. chapter 18: origins

Since BL and fujoshi discourse is the hot topic du jour, let’s talk a bit about gay stereotypes in Japanese manga and anime.

I’m seeing a worrying number of people not only saying that all BL and fujoshi promote homophobic stereotypes, but that BL is the primary or sole instigator of homophobia in Japanese society (excuse me, I choked on drink there).

For those who don’t know, Boy’s Love (BL) is a niche category of shoujo/josei manga that focuses on M/M relationships (commonly known in the west as “yaoi”, though that is a misnomer). It’s still frowned upon, both for being gay content and for being mainly romance aimed at women. The word “fujoshi” — used today to mean “female fan of BL” — even has seriously misogynistic origins.

So far, BL is published on specific magazines, and most anime adaptations are OVAs that aren’t aired on TV. Although it has a significant following, it’s definitely not popular enough to change the opinions on gay men of the entire anime fanbase, much less of Japanese society as a whole.

Homophobia in Japan has a long history, but one of the most impactful chapters was the Meiji Restoration (1867-68), when Japan’s isolationist foreign policy was abolished and rapid westernization began. Negative Christian views on homosexuality disseminated throughout the country and public opinion of practices such as nanshoku/wakashudou declined until they were practically criminalized and banned.

For reference, both BL and yuri had their origins more than a century later, in the 1970’s-80’s.

I find that a lot of criticism of stereotyping in BL is, unsurprising, very US-centric. The thin, androgynous, pretty and emotionally sensitive characters of BL may coincidentally fit western gay stereotypes, but this type of character just represents an East Asian beauty standard for men. Guys who fit these bishounen and ikemen types are considered desirable by Japanese women and are generally assumed to be straight. 

A handful of pretty boys from Touken Ranbu.

In the US, your idea of a stereotypical gay dude may be a metrosexual twink with a lisp and a limp wrist, but different countries have different stereotypes. In Japan, the appearance of イカホモ/イカニモ (“ikahomo” or “ikanimo”, a stereotypical gay man) is a heavy-set masculine guy with short haircut, strong face, and facial hair.

Sort of like the guys you see in geikomi, right?

Pin-ups by Jiraiya, long-time artist for G-men magazine.

But we’re talking about entertainment media, more specifically about animanga. We’ll get there soon.

Gay men in Japan are stereotyped by the general population as being camp, and using feminine clothes, language and pronouns. Those who present femininely are often referred to as オネエ (“onee”) because they use オネエ言葉 (“onee kotoba”, feminine speech), and may or may not identify as male. Many entertainers who are out use onee personas on TV to, well, entertain the audience. That may be the only exposure an average Japanese person has to a real-life openly gay or trans person.

As for fiction, media creators tend to fall back on archetypes based on prejudices for minority characters, and that includes gay men. A bit like how the US has the “fairy” archetype, Japan has the “okama”.

Now, オカマ (“okama”, lit. rice pot) is not a word used in polite conversation to refer to people. It’s a homophobic and transphobic slur, directed at people who fit the onee stereotype. If you’re not a Japanese queer man or transfem individual, you shouldn’t direct it at anyone, period. Not even yourself. Although there are some who reclaim the term, it’s still largely considered derogatory and insulting.

Japanese media has an okama character archetype, which reflects how society thinks a gay man looks and acts. You may be surprised to hear that it’s not the willowy, androgynous bishounen of shoujo manga.

It’s something more like this:

“Don’t fall into the trap of using a rather niche type of media as a scapegoat for a widespread and complex societal problem.

Don’t fall into the trap of viewing LGBTQ+ issues in other countries through a solely US-centric lens.

Don’t fall into the trap of thinking that Japanese queer people are too dumb to criticize homophobia in their own society and need foreigners (cough cough Americans) to “enlighten” them on it.“

And I did some additional fact-checking on aniparo since the source linked to another tumblr post and found this text which is free to read online as a PDF.

Basically ani-paro was used to refer to anime parodies in general, and much like how a lot of fanfiction is just smut, women started making ani-paro that was just smut. 

Relevant excerpt:

During the 1980s, the popular genre of female-oriented narratives of male homosexuality expanded when what is called the ani-paro (anime-parody) culture developed. Certain Japanese women started recasting the male characters in popular animations, manga, and other genres in homosexual pairings (Nishimura 2002). 

The term yaoi emerged originally as a reference to amateur ani-paro productions. One hypothesis regarding the origin of the term yaoi is that it is an acronym of the phrase ‘yamanashi ochinashi iminashi’ (no climax, no ending, no meaning); this phrase is considered to have originally been a cynical remark, used to criticize works in which artists dedicated themselves to depicting pornographic sex scenes while ignoring narrative functions and structures.