So I'm still thinking about this post thread about queerness in spec-fic worldbuilding, and specifically chewing on part of why a lot of 'queernorm' stories don't resonate with me... I think it's because I believe queerness will always exist.
To be clear: I do not mean any specific LBGTQ+ identity is inherently 'weird' or will always be on the fringe of society.
What I mean is: there will always be an acceptable social norms, and there will always be things (and people, and identities) that exist beyond it. I think that's just... human nature, to an extent.
Queernorm stories seek to go "what if what's queer in our world was normal in this one?" And that's good and comforting and interesting, for sure. But I think what's even more interesting to go: if that stuff (gayness, transness, polyamory, etc.) is considered normative in this universe, what exists outside that norm?
I think a really great example of how to do that is Martha Wells' work.
Oh, Murderbot, you mean?
Well, I don't not mean Murderbot. I think there's something very fascinating about the-- well, the queernormative spacefuture depicted. Whether in the capitalistic hellscape of the Corporation Rim or the communist not-quite-utopia of Preservation, romantic relationships exist between people of all genders, polyamory is unremarkable, family structures are extremely varied, and things are remarkably egalitarian, at least when it comes to gender and sexuality.
And yet Murderbot itself is very queer even in this universe. Partly for being a genderless, sex-repulsed, romance-repulsed being who refuses to even consider getting a set of any genitals. But, frankly, there's remarkably little pushback in-universe over any of that; the occasional bit of confusion or microaggression, sure. But I get the sense those are all individual things expected within the great spectrum of human identity.
Human identity.
That's the kicker. People consistently expect Murderbot to identify as human, and it consistently refuses. Murderbot's queerness comes from being both a bot and a human, and neither, at the same time. As an allegory, it's wonderfully multi-faceted; I've seen it read not just as a metaphor for many flavours of queerness, but also the experiences of neurodiversity, bi/multiracial identity, and more.
So. Yeah. Murderbot, definitely. But I think where Martha Wells really explores this is in her series The Books of the Raksura.
So we see a lot of different cultures depicted in those novels; they are in many ways the author's excuse to showcase some fantasy anthropology. But the titular Raksura themselves are very queernormative by our standards. They're polyamorous, by default. The females/women of their species naturally seem to have quite a bit of natural control over their own reproduction, meaning casual sex is both safe and commonplace. For the most part, both genders are seen as equals, and able to hold positions of power. Hell, expanding to look at social stratification even more broadly. I wouldn't even say classism exists, in quite the traditional sense: the different colonies the Raksura live in seem to care very deeply about making sure all their citizens are safe, well-fed, and happy.
Yet in other ways, Raksura society is very rigid and stratified. For example:
Their social structure seems at least partially based off eusocial insects, and they have different 'biological' castes, akin to bees. Queens; their consorts; flying warriors; the wingless workers (arbora); and the also wingless 'mentors', who act like teachers/healers/priests/etc.
They are primarily matriarchal and matrilineal. While male Raksura of all castes hold positions of power, only the queens can be... Well, queens. They're seen as brave and bold; they can shapeshift into fearsome draconic warriors; they seem to have some sort of mental power to influence the attitude of the colony; and ultimately, they're the final arbiter of their colony's policies.
Consorts are the male counterparts to queens. Like queens, they can shapeshift into powerful dragon-form, and that form only grows larger as they age. However, they're generally considered to be unfit for battle, expected to stay at the colony and handle domestic affairs. I mean that both in terms of 'domestic politics', as well as 'raising the next generation', because only queen/consort pairings will give rise to new consorts and queens.
Warriors are sterile and can't have babies at all
More than that... warriors are kind of looked down upon? Like they're important, obviously. But they're generally considered kind of intense and ridiculous and high maintenance. If you want someone sensible to get anything actually done, you gotta rely on the arbora to do it.
So that's the world-building! And in many, less well-written series, that's where it would be left. That's the Raksura social structure, neat and tidy.
But Wells is thoughtful about this, and a running theme throughout these books are characters challenging those norms, in both big and small ways. Like:
Presumption: Consorts are frail and dainty Reality: Moon is a tough, ex-loner survivalist who hates sitting on the sidelines playing politics and always throws himself into adventure. (Actually, Moon's whole thing is being a very fun gender-swapped take on the 'Action Girl Princess' trope, it's a cool subversion)
Presumption: Warriors aren't really fit to lead Reality: There's on particular warrior who works really hard to become a trusted advisor to a queen, and is clearly-- and even justifiably!-- annoyed and frustrated that as soon as a consort shows up, he loses the status and position he earned. Indeed, he almost seems to be... dysphoric over not being a consort?
Presumption: Warriors aren't particularly good as parents Reality: Well, never said outright, but of course they're sterile, and raising kids goes against the whole 'warrior' thing, right? But it seems there's a bit of a taboo in-universe about warriors "stealing" clutches to raise as their own... Which certainly seems to suggest that again, warriors chafe against this expectation.
Presumption: The castes are set in stone. Reality: Shortly before we meet him in book one, the character Chime spontaneously transformed from a Mentor into a Warrior. While known, this is considered very rare, and generally a sign that ratios within a colony are getting out of whack. Throughout the series, Chime struggles with the loss of his mentor powers, flying with his new wings... But especially with the new social class he's expected to inhabit. His arc is very much about forging a new role for himself, different from both mentor and warrior.
That last one is really huge to me! Usually, if you get these kind of biological divisions created in spec fic, they're very much set in stone. But this seems to me to be an acknowledgement from Wells: nothing in nature is concrete. Boundaries are always blurred; people will always transgress them.
That's what I really love from my fiction, be it speculative or otherwise, and that's what I will never get tired of reading.
