What annoys the FUCK out of me about the ‘all historians are out there to erase queerness from history’ thing on Tumblr is that it’s just one of those many attitudes that flagrantly mischaracterises an entire academic field and has a complete amateur thinking they know more than people who’ve spent fucking years studying said field.
Like someone will offer a very obvious example of – say – two men writing each other passionate love letters, and then quip about how Historians will just try to say that affection was just different ‘back then’. Um…no. If one man writes to another about how he wants to give him 10 000 kisses and suck his cock, most historians – surprise surprise! – say it’s definitely romantic, sexual love. We aren’t Victorians anymore.
It also completely dismisses the fact of how many cases of possible queerness are much more ambiguous that two men writing to each other about banging merrily in a field. The boundaries of platonic affection are hugely variable depending on the time and place you’re looking at. What people mock us for saying is true. Nuance fucking exists in the world, unlike on this hellscape of a site.
It is a great discredit to the difficult work that historians do in interpreting the past to just assume we’re out there trying to straightwash the past. Queer historians exist. Open-minded allies exist.
I’m off to down a bottle of whisky and set something on fire.
It’s also vaguely problematic to ascribe our modern language
and ideas of sexuality to people living hundreds or even thousands of years
ago. Of course queer people existed then—don’t be fucking daft, literally any
researcher/historian/whatever worth their salt with acknowledge this. But as
noted above, there’s a lot of ambiguity as well—ESPECIALLY when dealing with a
translation of a translation of a copy of a damaged copy in some language that
isn’t spoken anymore. That being said, yes, queer erasure happens, and it
fucking sucks and hurts. I say that as a queer woman and a baby!researcher. But
this us (savvy internet historian) vs. them (dusty old actual historian)
mentality has got to stop.
You’re absolutely right.
I see the effect of applying modern labels to time periods when they didn’t have them come out in a bad way when people argue about whether some historical figure was transmasculine or a butch lesbian. There were some, of course, who were very obviously men and insisted on being treated as such, but with a lot of people…we just don’t know and we never will. The divide wasn’t so strong back in the late 19th century, for example. Heck, the word ‘transmasculine’ didn’t exist yet. There was a big ambiguous grey area about what AFAB people being masculine meant, identity-wise.
Some people today still have a foot in each camp. Identity is complicated, and that’s probably been the case since humans began to conceptualise sexuality and gender.
That’s why the word ‘queer’ is such a usefully broad and inclusive umbrella term for historians.
Also, one more thing and I will stop (sorry it’s just been so long since I’ve gotten to rant). Towards the beginning of last semester, I was translating “Wulf and Eadwacer” from Old English. This is a notoriously ambiguous poem, a p p a r e n t l y, and most of the other students and I were having a lot of trouble translating it because the nouns and their genders were all over the place (though this could be because my memory is slipping here) which made it hella difficult to figure out word order and syntax and (key) the fucking gender of everything. In class, though, my professor told us that the gender and identity of the speaker were actually the object of some debate in the Anglo-Saxonist community. For the most part, it was assumed that the principal speaker of the poem is a woman (there is one very clear female translation amongst all that ambiguity) mourning the exile of her lover/something along those lines. But there’s also some who say that she’s speaking of her child. And some people think the speaker of the poem is male and talking abut his lover. And finally, there’s some people who think that the speaker of the poem is a fucking BADGER, which is fucking wild and possibly my favorite interpretation in the history of interpretations.
TL;DR—If we can’t figure out beyond the shadow of a doubt whether the speaker is a human or a fucking badger, then we certainly can’t solidly say whether a speaker is queer or not. This isn’t narrowmindedness, this is fucking what-the-hell-is-this-language-and-culture (and also maybe most of the manuscripts are pretty fucked which further lessens knowledge and ergo certainty).
Also, if there’s nothing to debate, what’s even the fun in being an historian?
All of this.
I had a student once try to tell me that I was erasing queer history by claiming that a poem was ambiguous. I was trying to make the point that a poem was ambiguous and that for the time period we were working with, the identities of “queer” and “straight” weren’t so distinctive. Thus, it was possible that the poem was either about lovers or about friends because the language itself was in that grey area where the sentiment could be romantic or just an expression of affection that is different from how we display affection towards friends today.
And hoo boy. The student didn’t want to hear that.
It’s ok to admit ambiguity and nuance. Past sexualities aren’t the same as our modern ones, and our understanding of culture today can’t be transferred onto past cultures. It just doesn’t work. The past is essentially a foreign culture that doesn’t match up perfectly with current ones – even if we’re looking at familiar ones, like ancient or medieval Europe. That means our understanding of queerness also has to account for the passage of time. I think we need to ask “What did queerness look like in the past?” as opposed to “How did queerness as we understand it today exist in the past?” As long as we examine the past with an understanding that not all cultures thought same-sex romance/affection/sexual practice was sinful, we’re not being homophobic by admitting there can be nuance in a particular historical product.
I know a lot of very smart people who are working on queerness in medieval literature and history. And yes, there are traditions of scholars erasing queer history because they themselves are guided by their own ideologies. We all are. It’s impossible to be 100% objective about history and its interpretation. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t good work being done by current scholars, including work that corrects the bad methodologies of the past.
also yeah, the key thing that’s helped me as a student of history is learning that using language outside of modern labels shouldnt erase queerness, but should complicate it.
Sometimes I think about the Tony that we had at the end of Avengers, smiling with his girlfriend in their tower after he saved New York from a nuke, building a new home base for the Avengers.
And then came the PTSD and the Maximoffs, Ultron and ‘together,’ the Accords and ‘did you know?’ and I think of the Tony we have now, sad, broken, tired. All his fault, always his fault, right, Stark? Still trying, but not with the effervescent drive of Avengers, but with the determination of a dying man.
And I hate it, but sometimes I think the Avengers were the worst thing that ever happened to Tony Stark.
😭😭😭😭😭
I love all the Avengers. I really do. But this is the damned truth. The Avengers are unequivocally one of the worst things to happen to Tony in his life – a life that was already full of worst things.
Tony’s relationship with the Avengers begins when Nick Fury approaches him about joining in Iron Man 2. Tony turns down any talk of the Avengers (”I don’t want to join your secret boy band”) because he’s dying. It’s in this same scene Tony learns Pepper’s new assistant “Natalie Rushman” is actually an undercover spy for SHIELD who has been assessing him (an assessment done while he’s on a self-destructive binge due to the whole “dying” situation).
After Tony has cured his palladium poisoning and put an end to Vanko, he approaches Nick again, actually excited about the prospect of joining the Avengers team now that he’s healthy, only to be turned down. Due to Romanoff’s less-than-flattering assessment of his character, Tony is only wanted in a “consultant” capacity. While it’s not overt, it’s clear this is a slap in the face, but Tony brushes it off and waives his usually exorbitant consultant fee solely to be a petty jackass to Senator Stern (because, get this, Tony still wants in – even if in a small role).
Tony’s next brush with the Avengers is in the The Avengers film itself. Tony is enjoying a quiet date night with Pepper when he’s interrupted by Agent Coulson who basically drags him into the “Loki stole the Tesseract from SHIELD” mess. Tony reminds Coulson that he’s a consultant, and Coulson says, “This isn’t about personality profiles anymore” to emphasize how dire the situation is. It’s actually Pepper who convinces Tony to get involved (or at least she’s the one who gives him the go ahead), because Tony was fully willing to tell Coulson “no” if Pepper didn’t want him to go.
We all know what happens next. The team doesn’t gel quite at first. Steve Rogers and Tony especially don’t get along. But then Coulson’s death is that sort of rallying moment to make them put aside their differences. A nuclear warhead is shot at NYC, and Tony – the man who isn’t even officially on the Avengers roster – is the only one who can put it in the wormhole and save everyone. Tony does this unhesitatingly, without even getting to say goodbye to the woman he loves, fully expecting to die, but miraculously he survives –
But lives forever with the psychological scars.
Iron Man 3 details how Tony is coping with his near-death experience – and it’s not good. He can’t sleep. He’s hoarding robots. He’s a “piping hot mess” and he admits in a vulnerable moment that Pepper is the only constant in his life holding him together. By the end of the film, it seems he might’ve resolved some of his trauma. He destroys his Iron Man suits. But then we see in Age of Ultron that Tony is still not well. He’s paranoid, jumpy, he still holds onto his suits. While helping the Avengers mop up HYDRA, Wanda Maximoff hexes him, making him see his worst nightmare.
And his worst nightmare? The Avengers – this group he considers a family even after being rejected by them – lying dead around him while he still lives.
In essence? It was Tony’s love for the Avengers that led to the birth of Ultron, because it was his fear of not doing enough to protect them that drove him to resurrect his and Bruce’s old pipe dream of a “suit of armor around the world.”
Of course we see no reaction from the group to Tony’s horrific vision because he he never tells them what he saw (he admits he can’t). Instead, they blame him, in one instance even physically assault him, for his mistake – a mistake he made because he loves these people so much.
Already we see a pattern with Tony and the Avengers. He’s always the odd-man-out. For one, he was never really technically an original Avenger (he got shoehorned in because of desperation). For two, he was the villain of Age of Ultron while the others got to be heroes (nevermind why he did what he did or the circumstances that led to that decision).
And then? Comes Captain America: Civil War. And it’s Tony’s desperate drive to keep the Avengers together that ends up breaking them apart. While Steve had already given up on the Avengers before the airport fight in Germany (as signified by the fact he removed his “Avengers” patch on his uniform), Tony was still trying to prevent further damage to the team (because he’s a foolish optimist). In his mind, he’d rather the Avengers stick together even under the imperfect Accords than be forced into hiding from their own government, living on the run. By the end of the film, once all the fighting is over, Rhodey is paralyzed, Steve and Tony are no longer on speaking terms, the Avengers are into the wind, T’Challa is back in Wakanda, and it’s only Tony and Vision at the Compound.
… And even then Vision leaves Tony too in Avengers: Infinity War.
In fact, it’s very interesting that, in Avengers: Infinity War, Tony doesn’t interact with any Avengers except Bruce – and even then he doesn’t fight alongside Bruce. Kind of intriguing that Bruce is
ultimately
the one who makes the call to get the Avengers back together even though Tony was the one who had the cellphone on his person for the past two years, right? Even more telling that, by the end of the film, Tony is the Avenger who is furthest from home. He is literally light-yearsaway on an alien planet while everyone else is back on Earth. This is symbolic of the place he’s always had in the Avengers “family” – left in the cold.
Tony’s love for the Avengers, his heart, has been the thing slowly undoing him from the inside out. He’s never truly belonged to the team (as the films have plainly demonstrated), but he tries and tries and tries to do right by them and protect them to the best of his ability. It’s the saddest fucking thing.
Hopefully Avengers 4 finally offers Tony some comfort for all this. Maybe he’ll finally find a family where he belongs.
The original post was heartbreaking enough and you had to go and stomp all over my already bleeding heart @starkravinghazelnuts
Sometimes I think about the Tony that we had at the end of Avengers, smiling with his girlfriend in their tower after he saved New York from a nuke, building a new home base for the Avengers.
And then came the PTSD and the Maximoffs, Ultron and ‘together,’ the Accords and ‘did you know?’ and I think of the Tony we have now, sad, broken, tired. All his fault, always his fault, right, Stark? Still trying, but not with the effervescent drive of Avengers, but with the determination of a dying man.
And I hate it, but sometimes I think the Avengers were the worst thing that ever happened to Tony Stark.
😭😭😭😭😭
I love all the Avengers. I really do. But this is the damned truth. The Avengers are unequivocally one of the worst things to happen to Tony in his life – a life that was already full of worst things.
Tony’s relationship with the Avengers begins when Nick Fury approaches him about joining in Iron Man 2. Tony turns down any talk of the Avengers (”I don’t want to join your secret boy band”) because he’s dying. It’s in this same scene Tony learns Pepper’s new assistant “Natalie Rushman” is actually an undercover spy for SHIELD who has been assessing him (an assessment done while he’s on a self-destructive binge due to the whole “dying” situation).
After Tony has cured his palladium poisoning and put an end to Vanko, he approaches Nick again, actually excited about the prospect of joining the Avengers team now that he’s healthy, only to be turned down. Due to Romanoff’s less-than-flattering assessment of his character, Tony is only wanted in a “consultant” capacity. While it’s not overt, it’s clear this is a slap in the face, but Tony brushes it off and waives his usually exorbitant consultant fee solely to be a petty jackass to Senator Stern (because, get this, Tony still wants in – even if in a small role).
Tony’s next brush with the Avengers is in the The Avengers film itself. Tony is enjoying a quiet date night with Pepper when he’s interrupted by Agent Coulson who basically drags him into the “Loki stole the Tesseract from SHIELD” mess. Tony reminds Coulson that he’s a consultant, and Coulson says, “This isn’t about personality profiles anymore” to emphasize how dire the situation is. It’s actually Pepper who convinces Tony to get involved (or at least she’s the one who gives him the go ahead), because Tony was fully willing to tell Coulson “no” if Pepper didn’t want him to go.
We all know what happens next. The team doesn’t gel quite at first. Steve Rogers and Tony especially don’t get along. But then Coulson’s death is that sort of rallying moment to make them put aside their differences. A nuclear warhead is shot at NYC, and Tony – the man who isn’t even officially on the Avengers roster – is the only one who can put it in the wormhole and save everyone. Tony does this unhesitatingly, without even getting to say goodbye to the woman he loves, fully expecting to die, but miraculously he survives –
But lives forever with the psychological scars.
Iron Man 3 details how Tony is coping with his near-death experience – and it’s not good. He can’t sleep. He’s hoarding robots. He’s a “piping hot mess” and he admits in a vulnerable moment that Pepper is the only constant in his life holding him together. By the end of the film, it seems he might’ve resolved some of his trauma. He destroys his Iron Man suits. But then we see in Age of Ultron that Tony is still not well. He’s paranoid, jumpy, he still holds onto his suits. While helping the Avengers mop up HYDRA, Wanda Maximoff hexes him, making him see his worst nightmare.
And his worst nightmare? The Avengers – this group he considers a family even after being rejected by them – lying dead around him while he still lives.
In essence? It was Tony’s love for the Avengers that led to the birth of Ultron, because it was his fear of not doing enough to protect them that drove him to resurrect his and Bruce’s old pipe dream of a “suit of armor around the world.”
Of course we see no reaction from the group to Tony’s horrific vision because he he never tells them what he saw (he admits he can’t). Instead, they blame him, in one instance even physically assault him, for his mistake – a mistake he made because he loves these people so much.
Already we see a pattern with Tony and the Avengers. He’s always the odd-man-out. For one, he was never really technically an original Avenger (he got shoehorned in because of desperation). For two, he was the villain of Age of Ultron while the others got to be heroes (nevermind why he did what he did or the circumstances that led to that decision).
And then? Comes Captain America: Civil War. And it’s Tony’s desperate drive to keep the Avengers together that ends up breaking them apart. While Steve had already given up on the Avengers before the airport fight in Germany (as signified by the fact he removed his “Avengers” patch on his uniform), Tony was still trying to prevent further damage to the team (because he’s a foolish optimist). In his mind, he’d rather the Avengers stick together even under the imperfect Accords than be forced into hiding from their own government, living on the run. By the end of the film, once all the fighting is over, Rhodey is paralyzed, Steve and Tony are no longer on speaking terms, the Avengers are into the wind, T’Challa is back in Wakanda, and it’s only Tony and Vision at the Compound.
… And even then Vision leaves Tony too in Avengers: Infinity War.
In fact, it’s very interesting that, in Avengers: Infinity War, Tony doesn’t interact with any Avengers except Bruce – and even then he doesn’t fight alongside Bruce. Kind of intriguing that Bruce is
ultimately
the one who makes the call to get the Avengers back together even though Tony was the one who had the cellphone on his person for the past two years, right? Even more telling that, by the end of the film, Tony is the Avenger who is furthest from home. He is literally light-yearsaway on an alien planet while everyone else is back on Earth. This is symbolic of the place he’s always had in the Avengers “family” – left in the cold.
Tony’s love for the Avengers, his heart, has been the thing slowly undoing him from the inside out. He’s never truly belonged to the team (as the films have plainly demonstrated), but he tries and tries and tries to do right by them and protect them to the best of his ability. It’s the saddest fucking thing.
Hopefully Avengers 4 finally offers Tony some comfort for all this. Maybe he’ll finally find a family where he belongs.
The original post was heartbreaking enough and you had to go and stomp all over my already bleeding heart @starkravinghazelnuts
