The Art of the Possible
Aug. 12th, 2010 07:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
selenakI've been thinking about what this clever post calls "the bisexual paradox" in both fandom's reaction and the presentations of bisexuals, to wit, as trobadora puts it: As soon as such a character has been established as bisexual or omnisexual, at least a significant section of fandom starts resenting anything that depicts them in a relationship with someone of the opposite gender. There's a palpable sense of betrayal when a bi or omni character is shown having meaningful opposite-sex relationships. I imagine most of us have felt that at times. It's not very surprising; we want visible queer relationships on screen, and there's not much queerness visible in a bi character who's in an established monogamous het relationship. In an ideal world we wouldn't need that visibility so much that every single instance of it is precious; in the real world we certainly do. But at the same time, if these characters must only be depicted in gay/lesbian relationships to be visibly queer, where does that leave us? With a character who's not really shown as bi, either.
Which made me wonder: what would I consider the visible depiction of a bisexual, shown in a meaningful relationship with someone of the opposite gender, without this coming across as some type if "het wins!" or "X goes straight"? To clarify some criteria first: I don't mean a character who comes across as basically straight, experiments, but has a clear preference for the opposite gender. I also don't mean the reverse: a character whose orientation is same-sex but who, be it due to social conditioning/pressure, experimentation or some unusual circumstances finds himself or herself/herself involved with someone of the opposite sex. (To name a famous example: Oscar Wilde was involved with several women before his wife, and of course was married, but I'd still define him as gay rather than bisexual because once he did have gay relationships, it was clearly what he found emotionally and sexually most fulfilling and prefered.) No, I'm talking about characters, both fictional and real, who really are attracted to both genders.
One film which I think gets this (and a lot of other things) right is Stage Beauty, with Billy Crudup and Claire Dane. (If you haven't watched it yet, here are some reviews that might persuade you to go after the dvd.) Ned Kynaston's bisexuality is established from the get go as we see him have casual sex with the Restoration equivalent of two female groupies and then an emotional as well as sexual encounter with his male lover/patron. The main relationship of the film is between him and a woman, Maria, which goes through many permutations - dresser and star, rivals, colleagues - but the film never gives you the impression that once the relationship with Maria turns sexual, Ned is straight. Of course, it helps that this is a film in which the fluidity of gender roles is a big plot point, and that both Maria and Ned keep switching between being Othello and Desdemona, the two roles the play-within-a-play assigns them; that Maria has many of the traits much media tends to code as masculine - she is ambitious, and usually takes the initiative, whether professionally, or arguing, rescuing or lovemaking - whereas Ned's very livelhood and definition of self depends on a stylized version of feminity; that that the very last sentence is not the affirmation of a role/definition, but an acknowledgment of not-definition.
Steering a bit off topic but not completely; something else this film gets right is a male/female relationship where the woman has other goals than just be with the man she loves. Maria loves Ned long before he loves her, but what drives her through the film isn't to win him but to become an actress (in a way, to become him, which contributes to the interesting messed-up-ness); her affection for him never makes her put her passion for acting away, and that is both what makes them rivals and in the end allies. It makes for a startling difference with a film like Carrington, which I also love and which, imo as always, pulls off something similar but different to the topic of this post, i.e. a homosexual man in a romantic but not sexual relationship with a woman. Carrington deals with the relationship between writer Lytton Strachey (Jonathan Pryce, and it's my favourite performance of the many great ones I've seen him give) and painter (Dora) Carrington (Emma Thompson). The film makes no bones about Lytton being 100% homosexual (the only time he physically fancies Carrington is right at the start when he thinks she's a boy, until she comes closer and he realises to his dissappointment she's not), and shows him in various homosexual relationships, some very emotionally involving; at the same time, it also presents what develops between him and Carrington, who end up living together, as love. One of the differences to Stage Beauty, though, is that Carrington's art is treated very secondary to her love life, despite the film bearing her name instead of Lytton's. While this might have been true for the real Carrington (who did kill herself after Lytton died, unable to live without him), it makes Maria/Margaret Hughes in Stage Beauty the far stronger character.
Not in conclusion, as I don't think there is one, but: for me, it's possible to present a bisexual character in a relationship with someone of the opposite gender without this coming across as a heteronormative romance. It's not easy, but it can be done, and thankfully, it has already happened.
trobadora puts it: As soon as such a character has been established as bisexual or omnisexual, at least a significant section of fandom starts resenting anything that depicts them in a relationship with someone of the opposite gender. There's a palpable sense of betrayal when a bi or omni character is shown having meaningful opposite-sex relationships. I imagine most of us have felt that at times. It's not very surprising; we want visible queer relationships on screen, and there's not much queerness visible in a bi character who's in an established monogamous het relationship. In an ideal world we wouldn't need that visibility so much that every single instance of it is precious; in the real world we certainly do. But at the same time, if these characters must only be depicted in gay/lesbian relationships to be visibly queer, where does that leave us? With a character who's not really shown as bi, either.Which made me wonder: what would I consider the visible depiction of a bisexual, shown in a meaningful relationship with someone of the opposite gender, without this coming across as some type if "het wins!" or "X goes straight"? To clarify some criteria first: I don't mean a character who comes across as basically straight, experiments, but has a clear preference for the opposite gender. I also don't mean the reverse: a character whose orientation is same-sex but who, be it due to social conditioning/pressure, experimentation or some unusual circumstances finds himself or herself/herself involved with someone of the opposite sex. (To name a famous example: Oscar Wilde was involved with several women before his wife, and of course was married, but I'd still define him as gay rather than bisexual because once he did have gay relationships, it was clearly what he found emotionally and sexually most fulfilling and prefered.) No, I'm talking about characters, both fictional and real, who really are attracted to both genders.
One film which I think gets this (and a lot of other things) right is Stage Beauty, with Billy Crudup and Claire Dane. (If you haven't watched it yet, here are some reviews that might persuade you to go after the dvd.) Ned Kynaston's bisexuality is established from the get go as we see him have casual sex with the Restoration equivalent of two female groupies and then an emotional as well as sexual encounter with his male lover/patron. The main relationship of the film is between him and a woman, Maria, which goes through many permutations - dresser and star, rivals, colleagues - but the film never gives you the impression that once the relationship with Maria turns sexual, Ned is straight. Of course, it helps that this is a film in which the fluidity of gender roles is a big plot point, and that both Maria and Ned keep switching between being Othello and Desdemona, the two roles the play-within-a-play assigns them; that Maria has many of the traits much media tends to code as masculine - she is ambitious, and usually takes the initiative, whether professionally, or arguing, rescuing or lovemaking - whereas Ned's very livelhood and definition of self depends on a stylized version of feminity; that that the very last sentence is not the affirmation of a role/definition, but an acknowledgment of not-definition.
Steering a bit off topic but not completely; something else this film gets right is a male/female relationship where the woman has other goals than just be with the man she loves. Maria loves Ned long before he loves her, but what drives her through the film isn't to win him but to become an actress (in a way, to become him, which contributes to the interesting messed-up-ness); her affection for him never makes her put her passion for acting away, and that is both what makes them rivals and in the end allies. It makes for a startling difference with a film like Carrington, which I also love and which, imo as always, pulls off something similar but different to the topic of this post, i.e. a homosexual man in a romantic but not sexual relationship with a woman. Carrington deals with the relationship between writer Lytton Strachey (Jonathan Pryce, and it's my favourite performance of the many great ones I've seen him give) and painter (Dora) Carrington (Emma Thompson). The film makes no bones about Lytton being 100% homosexual (the only time he physically fancies Carrington is right at the start when he thinks she's a boy, until she comes closer and he realises to his dissappointment she's not), and shows him in various homosexual relationships, some very emotionally involving; at the same time, it also presents what develops between him and Carrington, who end up living together, as love. One of the differences to Stage Beauty, though, is that Carrington's art is treated very secondary to her love life, despite the film bearing her name instead of Lytton's. While this might have been true for the real Carrington (who did kill herself after Lytton died, unable to live without him), it makes Maria/Margaret Hughes in Stage Beauty the far stronger character.
Not in conclusion, as I don't think there is one, but: for me, it's possible to present a bisexual character in a relationship with someone of the opposite gender without this coming across as a heteronormative romance. It's not easy, but it can be done, and thankfully, it has already happened.
no subject
Date: 2010-08-12 06:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-12 07:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-13 01:36 am (UTC)(Of course, I'd prefer to see all kinds of women not being defined by their relationships or lack thereof, but despite various individual examples, this isn't happening on a wide scale, and I don't just mean in media.)
now with s5 (6? Last season anyway) House spoilers
Date: 2010-08-13 02:36 am (UTC)ETA: re female bisexuals - God knows House is full of problematic things, but I think they're doing a good job with Thirteen in this regard. We've seen her with both women and men, and also showcased as capable of being in a committed relationship; the reason it ended wasn't made out to be her fault, either due to her sexuality or otherwise, but because Foreman felt incapable of being her boss and having a relationship at the same time, so was a jerk and fired her (upon which she very understandably ended the relationship). Also, while they were having said relationship, her reply when he asked whether she missed having sex with other women was great.
Re: now with s5 (6? Last season anyway) House spoilers
Date: 2010-08-13 03:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-26 02:09 am (UTC)And Capt. Jack, obviously. It's Dr Who canon that at least one (future) point in human history, our conception of sexuality is less about identity categories and more... so many intelligent lifeforms out there, so little time! I'm sad I don't live in the glorious pansexual future.
But I think there definitely would have been a bad fan-reaction if he acquired a serious female partner, as opposed to just meeting historical partners, because the main character (male) he's having a thing with is well-liked. He doesn't limit himself on species, let alone gender, and that's firmly established, and yet, I think anything serious/exclusive that wasn't obviously queer would still piss a few people off.