ABSTRACT

How can we understand human identity without understanding human sexuality? Our capacity to be kind, generous, tender, and understanding; our capacity to experience pleasure; the ways in which we define pleasure-all of these personality traits tell us about our sexuality. And they also tell us about the kind of person we are in our everyday lives: working at our jobs, shopping for groceries, playing basketball, or watching a movie. So whether or not we are sexually active, our sexuality is part of who we are, for our sexuality is related to most or all of the other characteristics by which we define ourselves. Yet at every level of education, classes in the humanities-that broad field

of study which includes literature, history, and philosophy and which explores the various experiences by which we define our humanity-rarely discuss in any depth the topics of sex and sexuality. Even if a class is reading a literary work in which, say, an adulterous affair plays a key role in the story, the affair is usually treated as an event in the plot rather than as a dimension of the character’s sexuality or a dimension of the work as a whole that requires close analysis. In fact, if we look at the degree to which the topics of sex and sexuality have been omitted from the humanities, we may reasonably wonder how an academic discipline that claims to study human experience has managed to overlook, or at least under-represent, one of the most important dimensions of that experience. Surely, part of the reason for this marked omission is the discomfort teachers

and students often experience in discussing topics related to sexuality, especially LGBTQ sexuality: lesbian, gay, bi, transgender, or queer sexuality.1 You might be experiencing some discomfort yourself at this moment. If you are, I hope you won’t let it worry you-or prevent you from reading this chapter. Keep in mind that, whatever your personal feelings about sexuality in general and LGBTQ sexuality in particular, it’s not unusual to feel a bit uncomfortable, at first, discussing in a classroom setting topics that have rarely, if ever, come up in the classroom, topics that most of us have been raised to believe are strictly private, if not downright transgressive. But whether you’re accustomed

to the subject or not, I think you’ll find this chapter interesting as well as informative because lesbian, gay, and queer theorists have not only helped draw our attention to human sexuality as a serious aspect of studies in the humanities, but they have done so in ways that are meaningful to all of us, regardless of our sexual orientation. For they raise questions that are important to any understanding of human sexuality and how it relates to human identity and culture. Let me give you a few examples. Lesbian theorists have raised important questions about what it means to

define oneself as a lesbian. For instance, if identifying oneself as a lesbian requires sexual relations with another woman, then shouldn’t identifying oneself as a heterosexual woman require sexual relations with a man? If so, how can heterosexual virgins claim to be heterosexual? Furthermore, what “counts” as sexual relations? Must genital contact be involved in order for an encounter to be categorized as sexual? With these questions in mind, how should we define lesbian orientation? In fact, with these questions in mind, how should we define any sexual orientation? Gay theorists have reminded us that definitions of heterosexuality and

homosexuality can differ from culture to culture. For example, in the United States today, sexual relations with, or even sexual desire for, a same-sex partner define a man as gay. However, in white working-class American culture at the turn of the twentieth century, as well as in some South American cultures, a man who has sex with another man is still defined as a heterosexual as long as he assumes the masculine role: as long as he penetrates but is never penetrated by his partner and as long as he behaves in a dominant, aggressive, traditionally masculine manner. In contrast, citizens of ancient Athens didn’t choose sexual partners based on sex or gender behavior; they chose them in terms of social caste. A male member of the Athenian elite class could have legitimate sexual relations with anyone beneath him in social rank: women and girls of any class or age, boys of his own class who were past puberty but had not yet attained the age of manhood, and all slaves and foreigners. As these examples suggest, definitions of sexual orientation and of legitimate sexual relations depend on cultural attitudes toward sexuality. Finally, queer theory, which is an outgrowth of lesbian and gay theories,

rejects definitions of sexuality that depend upon the sex of one’s partner. As we’ll see in the “Basic concepts” section of this chapter, queer theorists believe that the biological sex of the people to whom we are sexually drawn tells us nothing other than the biological sex of the people to whom we are sexually drawn. That is, queer theorists find human sexuality much too complex, ambiguous, and dynamic to be understood by this single biological fact: many more personal factors must be taken into account in order to begin to understand human sexuality. Lesbian, gay, and queer theorists are also interested in questions involving issues

of social justice. For example, why does the dominant culture in the United States, among other cultures around the world, tend to define LGBTQ

sexuality as deviant, even dangerous, while some cultures define it as natural, even admirable? What is the best way to change American laws, practices, and attitudes that still discriminate against LGBTQ individuals, as if they were not deserving of the same civil rights other Americans enjoy, despite our growing awareness of the enormous contribution of LGBTQ people throughout American history to all areas of American life? (To cite just a few well-known literary examples, consider the work of Walt Whitman, Sarah Orne Jewett, Willa Cather, Hart Crane, Langston Hughes, Gertrude Stein, T.S. Eliot, Tennessee Williams, James Baldwin, Allen Ginsberg, Carson McCullers, Edward Albee, Adrienne Rich, Alice Walker, Audre Lorde, Mark Doty, and David Sedaris.) For discrimination against LGBTQ individuals persists in the United States, not only in the violent hate crimes that still occur, but also in the availability of jobs and housing, in the use of public facilities such as hotels and taverns, in areas of family law such as the right to retain custody of one’s children, as victims of police harassment, and in AIDS-related discrimination. Additional questions raised by lesbian, gay, and queer theorists concern the

origin of our sexual orientation, as sexual orientation is traditionally defined in the West today. Is our orientation toward same-sex or opposite-sex romantic partners the result of our genes? (This view is called biological essentialism because it tells us that our sexual orientation is an essential, or inborn part of our biological makeup.) Or is our sexual orientation the result of our individual experience? (This view is called social constructionism because it tells us that our sexual orientation is constructed by our experience in society.) Or might genetics be the source of sexual orientation for some people while experience is the source of sexual orientation for others? Or might the answer lie in some combination of our genetic makeup and our experience? A related question involves the issue of choice: if LGBTQ sexuality is simply a matter of personal choice, as some people believe, then when and by what process do individuals choose to be heterosexual? Although we won’t discuss here the numerous issues addressed by lesbian,

gay, and queer theorists, I think it’s important to be aware of them so that you can see what an important and diverse field of inquiry lesbian, gay, and queer concepts open up for our understanding of human sexuality and its relationship to human identity and culture. And as we’ll see later, in our interpretation exercises, these concepts also open up literary texts to new and interesting readings. For now, though, let’s concentrate on the foundation-level understanding of lesbian, gay, and queer theories offered in the “Basic concepts” section that follows. Although it’s important that you read through this list of concepts, don’t be too concerned if you don’t feel you thoroughly understand every one. You’ll begin to understand these concepts much better when we use them, later on in this chapter, to help us interpret the literary texts that appear at the end of this book. And you’ll see that these fundamental lesbian, gay, and queer concepts can help us understand other works of literature as well.