What some people sound like reacting to older media or fandom events
seen from Canada
seen from Germany
seen from Australia

seen from Malaysia

seen from Australia
seen from South Korea
seen from Saudi Arabia

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Canada
seen from Germany

seen from Germany

seen from Malaysia

seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from Indonesia

seen from Ireland

seen from Germany
seen from Netherlands

seen from Germany
seen from Indonesia
What some people sound like reacting to older media or fandom events
Published for the first time, the handwritten manuscript of the 1891 novel shows a writer struggling with Victorian morality
From the back of Bantam's paperback of Crome Yellow by Aldous Huxley. I hope I am some day credited with or blamed for something similar.
Tonight on midnight literary analysis, let's talk about queerness in Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.
The thing you need to remember about this story is that when it was first published, no one knew how it ended. Which seems obvious, but everyone today approaches that story having been already spoiled. When you're reading it for the first time, even if you're 8 years old
- oh, that's why I have such a thing for late Victorian horror. Oh. That makes sense. Thanks, Ms. McDonald. -
you're looking for foreshadowing. You know what to expect. This can lead to the attitude my brother had when reading Dracula for a class - "Stop describing your breakfast and get to the vampires!" (He was mostly upset because he'd wanted to read Frankenstein.)
But you're not supposed to look at it like that. You're not supposed to know what's going on with Jekyll. If you don't know what's coming, there's suspense. The main image through the book is the fog. We get the story second hand, someone tells someone else, someone reads a document, everything is detached and not quite certain. That's the atmosphere we start with.
It's a mystery story.
So, you start with bachelors talking to each other. Actually, everyone is a bachelor - women show up as victims, and otherwise not at all. And you start with fine, upstanding Dr. Jekyll, who has a friend.
A friend he's left all his property to. A friend who can get money off him at a moment's notice. A friend he's fond of even though he does terrible things. A friend who's younger and smaller than him. A friend who looks normal but gives everyone the creeps. A friend who has a key to his house.
Is he blackmailing Jekyll? Is he some black sheep relative? Is he Jekyll's illegitimate son? Or is he Jekyll's lover? Even if it's just blackmail, the question becomes what in Jekyll's past is so absolutely terrible that he can't risk the possibility of it coming out, even when he has lots of people on his side and there's plenty of evidence against Hyde.
For the Victorians, there was a very close connection between blackmail and homosexuality. The 1885 Act criminalizing any "gross indecency between males" was known as the Blackmailer's Charter.
Jekyll begins to live in fear. He avoids his friends. He suddenly leaves conversations. He stays in his house and doesn't talk to his servants. And then his former close friend discovers something about him that's so horrible that he has a breakdown and refuses to see or speak to Jekyll ever again.
Jekyll is not intended to be gay. But the hints of homosexuality - and illegitimacy, and blackmail, and various 'nameless crimes' - are used to draw the reader in, and it's assumed that the reader will easily read between the lines.
it isn't a gay allegory. It's deliberately using the idea of homosexuality, which the reader is assumed to already know about, for its purposes.
The narrative resonated with contemporary queer men - J. A. Symonds and Gerald Manley Hopkins both commented on it.
But what it's actually doing is playing with all kinds of forbidden sexuality to build up an atmosphere of secrecy and darkness, so it can then reveal that in fact the truth is something far worse...
Probably. Of course, if Jekyll's secret was that he was gay, the book couldn't have been published.
image above: Nineteenth-century photograph of dead child with flowers.
Photographing dead children was a common practice years ago during Late Victorian & Early Edwardian times. (1860 - 1910) Infant & child deaths were very common.
Because of high mortality rates in Victorian England, she said, death and mourning became a way of life for survivors.
"These days, nearly 80 percent of deaths happen in hospitals, not in the home, so we are removed from this process," "In London, in 1830, the average life span for middle to upper-class males was 44 years, 25 for tradesman and 22 for laborers. Fifty-seven of every 100 children in working class families were dead by five years of age."
Death was a common domestic fact of life for Victorians, so they developed elaborate rituals to deal with it. The deathbed became a focal point for families who were in the process of losing a loved one.
In some cases, especially with children, there might well have been no other photographs for the family to keep. Photographs were expensive, and complicated to take and arrange, and therefore most people didn’t have them done frequently. The death of a baby or child therefore often meant that the family had no photograph of the person at all, or no photograph taken with children born later than the one who had died. But in other cases, it was part of a morbid fascination with death – the kind of behaviour that saw Queen Victoria go into black widow’s clothes for 4 decades, from the time of her husband Prince Albert’s death in 1860 until she died herself in 1901. Thus the photographs showing a young mother’s children draped over her grave or tombstone, for example. Some of these dead photos featured the person lying down, as if asleep. In others, the person was propped up, and even had his eyes painted in after the photo was taken. In these cases, the only way you can be sure which person is definitely dead is by noting that the face is very clear – the long exposures needed meant that living people tended to blur, slightly.