Alex Tunney

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Book Review:‘Queerness In Play’ Edited by Todd Harper, Meghan Blythe Adams, and Nicholas Taylor

In my review of Queer Games Studies, I approached the idea of queer games studies as a chance overlap of queer theory and games studies. With a breadth of scope, the lens of queer theory could obviously be applied to many mediums, (board, card, and video) games included. In the introduction to Queerness In Play, the editors present the idea that queer theory and games studies are both studies in the negotiation of spaces and situations, elaborating:

In both queerness and games, the idea of boundless freedom is a mirage, but also for both, there is meaning in exploring the possibilities that occur within the boundaries, especially when that exploration allows to us to see the ways in which those boundaries can be tested, expanded or reconfigured.

It makes sense to examine the rules of one world, to see the expansion of possibility in another.

Where Queer Games Studies, a prior collection of studies and essays taking a snapshot of the field, was something of a hub or a showcase of the many different areas to explore within the young but growing field, this collection has a slightly tighter focus. As the title Queerness In Play implies, the studies and essays presented are interested in both sides of the screen and the interaction between the two. Even when taking a close look at characters in virtual spaces, authors are also shedding light on players’ actions with and towards them inside games and reactions to and conversations around them outside of the games.

Sorted into four parts, “Queer Foundations,” “Representing Queerness,” “Un-gendering Assemblages,” and “No Fear of a Queer Planet: Gaming and Social Futures,” the book examines present, past and potential states of play, players and player avatars.

The first section includes two examinations of games studies itself. Sarah Evans, in “Queer(ing) Game Studies: Reviewing Research on Digital Play and Non-normativity,” presents research into the amount of work regarding queerness in games studies has been published, and in “Envisioning Queer Game Studies: Ludology and the Study of Queer Game Content,” Evan W. Lauteria makes a case for the importance of applications of queer theory in game studies.

“Representing Queerness” examines both characters that players can control and those they encounter and interact with, ranging from those that explicitly identify/are identified to be within the LGBTQ assemblage to those that provide space to examine queer themes. In the former category, there is a look at the portrayal of two characters, Ellie and Bill, from The Last Of Us, a discussion of the lack of same-sex romantic relationship options in the life-simulation game Tomodachi Life, and an examination of how androgyny is ‘allowed’ in protagonists while, in contrast, gender-variance is portrayed in a villainous light. As for queer subtext, there is a survey of gender performance of the various heroes of the Final Fantasy series, an analysis of the reveal of Samus’ appearance underneath the armor in Metroid in relation to similar ‘revelation’ narratives in other media, and a discussion of the discussion surrounding Zelda’s gender identity as Shiek in The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time(and other appearances).

The latter half of the book focuses on the players and the act of play as well as the changing environments for play. Where “Un-gendering Assemblages” takes a look at individual roles and play, “No Fear of a Queer Planet: Gaming and Social Futures” considers gaming communities, small and large.

“Cues for Queer Play: Carving a Possibility Space for LGBTQ Role-Play” looks at the various paths and hurdles for queer roles and queer players in table-top, video game (offline and online), and real-life roleplaying games. Nathan Thompson looks at the gay MMORPG ‘mod’ scene in “‘Sexified’ Male Characters: Video Game Erotic Modding for Pleasure and Power” and how it provides a digital mirror to real-life politics of desire. “Let’s Come Out! On Gender and Sexuality, Encouraging Dialogue, and Acceptance,” presents a case study using a board game, Let’s Come Out!, which requires players to roleplay certain identities, to encourage discussion and self-reflection about assumptions and actions.

“The Abject Scapegoat: Boundary Erosion and Maintenance in League of Legends” examines the gender policing of an e-sports player amongst the game’s players and media. “Outside the Lanes: Supporting a Non-normative League of LegendsCommunity” looks a how members of an LBGTQ friendly e-sports club at a college attempt to create an inclusive space and time. “Out on Proudmoore: Climate Issues on an MMO” discusses the creation and social maintenance of the titular LGBT-friendly server in the massively popular game, World of Warcraft.

This collection does a lot to make it recommendable for those interested both queer and game studies. It provides various angles to understanding queerness using the stories and characters presented in games. It showcases an impressive effort of in-depth research as well an appropriate familiarity with the medium. And, it situates its discussion within appropriate contexts, often in the form of player discussion.

However, I must note the reliance on using or examining popular series, something which arguably leads to a slightly inaccurate picture of queer representation in games. It makes sense to use popular series and games to write about: authors are limited by both publishers’ and readers’ varying levels of knowledge regarding video games. Additionally, more popular games reach wider audiences which in turn provide more things to analyze. However, in a time when indie games can sometimes take up equal mindshare as mainstream “triple A” games, it seems odd that those made by smaller studios, like Undertale or Dream Daddy, aren’t discussed alongside other games.

Media is often a mirror for audiences, presenting a version of the world on screen, on canvas or on the page. Unlike most other media, however, games allow for (increased) interaction with the creation. In addition to the work itself and the reaction to it, another facet to be studied are the actions one can take in relation to it. And, in the case of online gaming, the media is less a separated reflection, but an extension of the tangible world.

As the games industry continues to grow and the field of queer games studies continues to widen, solid foundational texts are needed. Queerness In Play is a deeply researched guidebook whose authors deftly navigate multiple contexts and whose editors understand that game studies is not just an examination of other worlds but our own as well. And while it can only cover so much ground, it also does an effective job of inspiring future work.

 

Queerness In Play
Edited by Todd Harper, Meghan Blythe Adams, and Nicholas Taylor
Palgrave Macmillan
Paperback, 9783319905419, 300 pp.
October 2018

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Michelle Visage’s ‘The Diva Rules’ Serves Up Advice From a Queerly Tinted Career

It could be argued that this book doesn’t count as an “LGBTQI book,” so to speak, and part of me agrees—I, too, get frustrated when LBGTQI-oriented spaces feature icons, allies and vaguely hot men over folks in the community. I do have few arguments in favor of me writing about it. The first is that Michelle came up through the New York ball scene of the 1980s and 90’s and she knows she owes her career to her fellow voguers. The second is that this site does queer looks on cis/het literature and features those considered icons/major figures from time to time. The third is that one major target audience of this book is gay men.

Besides, an advice book is very “new year, new me.”

For the uninitiated: Michelle Visage is RuPaul’s right-hand gal and fellow judge on RuPaul’s Drag Race and has recently made a turn on a season of Celebrity Big Brother over in the UK. I personally don’t care for some of RuPaul’s politics and the quality of Drag Race as of late, however, I still maintain a very special affection for Michelle. Perhaps it’s because we’re both of the bridge-and-tunnel sort, but from different sides. Perhaps it’s because she reminds me of aunts and other relatives on the Italian-American side of my family. Perhaps it’s because she’s very accessible, either on social media or on tour. Perhaps it’s simply because I know some of her story already.

The story of the lady who becomes Michelle Visage begins with her being born to a young Joanne in New Jersey and being adopted by Marty and Arlene of South Plainfield. She graduates high school with dreams of becoming a Broadway star and attends the American Musical and Dramatic Academy in New York City. Encouraged by her mother to get out in the world and into the clubs, she goes to The Underground and ends up finding her crowd which includes Cesar Valentino and Willi Ninja. Soon, she becomes a member of the House of Magnifique and competes in the Vogue and Face categories. (Her stage name comes from the fact some of her friends used to call her “Cara,” Spanish for “face.” Tired of other people thinking her name was actually Cara, she went with the French translation: Visage.)

From there she gets noticed by the Queen of NYC nightlife, Susanne Bartsch. While working for her, she first encounters her future friend RuPaul, and Madonna sees her and friends perform at the first Love Ball. After college, she gets a day job working as a receptionist for a clothing showroom, doing auditions when she can. Hearing from a friend about a girl group being formed, she wows the producers and thus Seduction is born. The group lasts a year, due to in-group tensions and touring with the infamous Milli Vanilli, but puts out the hit single “Two to Make It Right.” (There’s also her stint with The S.O.U.L. S.Y.S.T.E.M. and the hit “It’s Gonna Be a Lovely Day.”) Looking for work, she almost auditions to be a stripper, but ends up as an emcee for the strip joint instead. Through her connections, she lands a radio gig that leads to various other radio and television hosting gigs.

Eventually, she and RuPaul find each other again and start working together. However, when the chance to be on Drag Race comes around, her boss doesn’t let her take time off to be on it, because he doesn’t want to “harm the station’s image.” The situation temporarily sours her and Ru’s relationship. During this time, she also suffers a major anxiety attack that prompts her to change some things in her life. When the chance to be a judge comes around again, she’s able to get it with a little pep talk from her friend, Leah Remini. The rest you’ve probably you’ve seen on television.

Michelle is arguably on her third career, having been a singer, then a radio and TV host and now a TV personality. (Most people usually only have one or two, at best.) I think it’s inarguable that she’s a celebrity now that she appeared on Celebrity Big Brother, since it’s right there in the name. But even if Drag Race wasn’t a breakout hit, she would still be a gay cult figure / icon, only lesser known.

What is interesting to me is that she has become popular during this period of renewed interest in LGBTQI-originated and oriented nightlife of the 80s and 90s with a new reverence for its importance. While she is most known because of the show, she is also part of RuPaul’s and World of Wonder’s Oprah-esque media empire that includes and features personalities from the club scene such as James St. James. Her career has come full circle in a way.

But beyond my musings is an important question: Will you enjoy this book? Depends.

Do you like Drag Race? Because reading this book is a bit like marathon-ing all seasons of the show, even All-Stars. It’s a show that hasn’t met a pun or innuendo it won’t make and Ms. Visage is no slouch in this department either. (Another reason she feels like an aunt of mine.) Sometimes these jokes fall flat on the page, because what often makes these jokes work is how they are said. Arguably, I’m just making the case for listening to the audiobook version.

Also, are you in the mood for advice? There’s good and bad advice, but good portion of advice’s power comes from a person being open to it. Michelle’s advice ranges from general platitudes with a fabulous twist to the very practical. It helps that her “diva rules” are given alongside the story of her life so far. It’s not presented as “Do this!” but instead as “Here’s what I did in this situation, it might work for you too.”

Occasionally, I found the “my gays” and “my people” rhetoric a bit tired; it made me feel like a brand was trying engage with an audience. However, when it came to specific people in her past, they are handled with more sincerity. She recognizes that she—a straight white girl from Joisey—was taken in by folks of vastly different circumstances than hers and writes of her friends of the balls and piers with both affection and honesty.

But, dear reader, let me tell you that something magical happened to me after finishing this book. For the most part I enjoyed the book, even if it’s a bit eyeroll-worthy with the deluge of puns, innuendos and references, and containing some side-eye worthy phrasing. However, in the process of writing the review, I thought about Visage’s interesting career path. A little bit unsure of my own next steps, looking at her career helped put mine in perspective; I learned that a career path doesn’t necessarily need to be in a straight line to be successful. And for that, Michelle, I thank you.

– See more at: http://www.lambdaliterary.org/features/oped/03/02/michelle-visages-the-diva-rules-serves-up-advice-from-a-queerly-tinted-career/#sthash.B4TY8Ekc.dpuf