"Queer: A Graphic History" by Meg-John Barker and Julia Scheele (Illustrations)

First, let me start with the blurb the publisher used to pitch this book: “Activist-academic Meg-John Barker and cartoonist Julia Scheele illuminate the histories of queer thought and LGBTQ+ action in this groundbreaking non-fiction graphic novel.” We’ll definitely be coming back to this later in the review, but for now, let’s start with a question: “what are the work’s stated objectives?“

“Whet your appetite to find out more (there’s a list of accessible further resources at the end of the book).”
“Explain how queer theory became necessary as a way of questioning popular – problematic – assumptions about sex, gender, and identity.”
“Introduce you to some of the key queer theory ideas and thinkers – as simply as possible – as well as some of the tensions within queer theory, and to the different directions it has taken in recent years.”
“Pull out what seems most useful from queer theory for our everyday lives, relationships, and communities.”

Did the work actually meet these goals?

I am not a Queer Theory academic, so it is hard to say whether the work covered every seminal thinker, work, or idea. With that said, between the body of the work and the further reading, this seems like a reasonable jumping off point. To that end, the work offers a list of both “more detailed introductions to queer theory,” and, “accessible books on sexuality and gender,” in its Resources section. It also highlights, “edited collections on queer theory,” “books on applied queer theory,” and, “online resources.” I question how useful some of these “online resources,” might actually be, however, given that one of them is a Thought Catalog post collecting reviews of “Bic Pens for Her,” and another is a gender-switched parody of “Blurred Lines.” It’s better than nothing, I guess.
With regards to the second point, I’m conflicted. On one hand, I see how the work points out how Queer Theory can encourage people to question binaries, expect complexity (e.g. how “women” are not monolithic or how intersectionality is critical in crafting Queer Theory and critique that isn’t “bullshit”), and recognize oppressive social systems and expectations (e.g. white supremacy, heteronormativity, etc). On the other hand, the work highlights tensions and critiques of Queer Theory. It also points out how even some associated with Queer Theory wondered, from its inception, whether it was “needed” or “over.” Oof.
The work definitely introduces a myriad of ideas and thinkers. With that being said, it’s hard to say it was done, “as simply as possible.” The work is riddled with academic language, undefined terms, and complex sentences. I’m also dubious on the idea that it delves deeply into the “different directions it (Queer Theory) has taken recently,” as no work cited in the text are newer than 2010. This is in spite of the fact that the work was published in 2016.
Finally, the work does offer a few pages of “takeaways,” for those that make it to the end of the work. These takeaways don’t summarize everything that was covered (how could it?), but it was nice to have a “cheat sheet,” of sort after such a dense work.

With that said, I don’t think the work was entirely successful at meeting its own goals. If it wasn’t obvious from what I wrote above, the work is dense. This isn’t a bad thing in-and-of itself, but when one of the work’s stated goals is to be an on-boarding point for Queer Theory, it’s hard to ignore. Beyond that, I also had some personal points of satisfaction and struggle with the work. Though these don’t necessarily speak to the work’s stated goals and intentions, I will list them here for completeness.

Pros:

The art is prevalent, appearing once every third page or so. (With that being said, the contrast between the more realistic “portraits,” of various writers and thinkers and the more cartoony diagrams didn’t go unnoticed).
I appreciate that the work included lots of resources for further reading, and cited sources.
The work exposed me to new ideas and thinkers. There is plenty of “food for thought,” in this work.
I was relieved there was a “summary,” section at the end of the work that highlighted the main takeaways.

Cons:

Despite my expectations, the work does not focus on the queer community or its history. Instead, as you have likely guessed by this point in the review, it focuses on Queer Theory. The publisher’s pitch also mentions “LGBTQ+ action,” but I’d consider this a minor focus at most.
The work states that Black feminists like bell hooks and Audre Lorde are foundational to Queer Theory, but then glosses over them in a few pages. The work does come back to this in its “critiques” section with regards to Queer Theory (ie how race is often not considered by Queer Theory scholars), but that felt like too little, too late.
The claim that sexuality is something you “do” rather than something you “are” bothered me. Can’t someone know, in their heart of hearts, that a label is a good fit for them without having to “perform” it? What if you are “in the closet,” and can’t “perform” your gender or sexuality? Does that mean you are less valid, or less a member of the community? What if a label provides some comfort, some new level of understanding of oneself?
- Perhaps this is an issue of engaging with a term on an individual, rather than community level. If the former can be illuminating, the latter may be used to create in-groups and out-groups (those with and without the label), or give the impression that anyone with a given label must have certain characteristics (e.g. all gay men are X, etc).
Finally, while the book gestures towards it with quotes like, “The First Pride Was A Riot,” it rarely, if ever delves into the material conditions / discrimination faced by LGBTQ+ people.
- For example, the work describes Stonewall as the, “first pride,” stating that, “activists fought for spaces where people could be open about their sexuality without fear of being arrested.” In listening to the stories of people who were there, though (e.g. Silvia Rivera, Marsha P. Johnson), it’s clear to me that Stonewall was not just about creating space for LGBTQ+ people, but a response to police brutality. After all, there have long been laws on the books preventing LGBTQ+ people from living their most authentic lives (anti-sodomy laws, anti-crossdressing laws, “bathroom” laws, etc etc). While the LGBTQ+ community is far more than the discrimination it has faced, to not address this seems like a glaring omission.
The work casually drops the term “homonationalism” in the section called, “Queer Goes Global.” It defines it as, “how gay rights and women’s rights discourses are now used to support imperialist and racist agendas in relation to “other” cultures, often ignoring the massive geneder and sexual inequalities that remain within white minority-world culture.” After providing that description, it provides no additional context or examples. Consider my appetite whetted, I guess, but I really wish they could’ve provided more. The same goes for “queer diasporas,” and “queer globalization.”
I also have a few smaller nit-picks: some of the art assets are reused multiple times. The work also repeatedly uses “trans” as a noun instead of an adjective (e.g. “One area of trans that has gained wider attention…”); does the author mean trans people, the trans community, trans theory, or something else? Finally, the art doesn’t always add to the text of the work (beyond, say, being a portrait of a thinker being referenced).

Conclusion:

I have really mixed feelings about this work. On one hand, it introduced me to new ideas and thinkers. Per its stated goals, it definitely, “whet my appetite,” with regards to Queer Theory. On the other hand, I didn’t get what I was expecting (a history of the queer community), or even what the publisher pitched (“LGBTQ+ action”). With that in mind, it’s hard for me to recommend this book to anyone but those who are really interested in learning about Queer Theory (especially at a college or even graduate-level).

Takeaways (from the work’s summary section):

Consider the risks of building communities on essential notions of identity, universal assumptions, or them-and-us binaries
Try to avoid “essentializing” and “unifying.” What you are considering is probably plural, rather than singular, and in process, rather than fixed and immutable.
Try to avoid polarizing into either/or binaries (e.g. male/female, straight/gay, etc).
Ask what an idea or representation opens up or closes down, plus what is excluded and what is included.
Queer = doing (having effects, achieving actions), not being (true/false, right/wrong)
Subject all forms of sexuality and sexual representations to critical thinking and interrogation about the ideologies and power relations they uphold
Try to avoid the inevitable pull of individualism: locating issues in the individual person rather than circulating cultural discourses and structural processes
Take heed of gender theorist Rosalind Gill’s message: “you can’t step outside of culture (which is highly binary, essentialist, identity-based, and universalizing).”
Aim to reveal the strangeness of normativity, disrupt the status quo, (re)claim what is usually rejected, and form new umbrella-alliances

Check it out here.