About three years ago in Petersburg, I got acquainted with one very kind Englishman, Mr. Woodburn. He traveled across Europe in search of good paintings, statues, and other objects, to purchase, which by some accident ended up in second-hand markets or in the hands of ignoramuses, bankrupts, etc. In Germany, he found a rich harvest and picked up a few interesting pieces in our country. Woodburn had been to my house, read my English newspapers, traveled with me to Peterhoff, and, before returning home, earnestly requested me to visit him if I happened to be in England. I remembered him well, but how to find one Englishman, not very tall, among one million and six hundred thousand residents of London! Once walking to Trafalgar Square, on one street (St. Martins-Lane), I saw a sign above an art store: Woodburn Brothers! I rushed to the store and asked a clerk where I could find Mr. William Woodburn, who has been to Russia. “He is a brother and associate of the store owner,” answered the clerk: “he lives out of town in Richmond.” I immediately wrote a brief letter notifying him that I had arrived in London and lived at so-and-so address. The next day, the good Woodburn came to see me and invited me to his country house. I agreed to visit him next Sunday and promised to be ready at nine o’clock in the morning. My English friend, efficient and punctual like a clock's second hand, arrived at the appointed time, and we were preparing to leave for the steamboat. Suddenly a messenger arrived from Count Pozzo di Borgo and gave me a card. I showed it to Woodburn, and he read, “Count Pozzo di Borgo requests the honor of Mr. G.'s company at dinner on Sunday, the 4 of June at 7¼ o’clock. The favor of an answer is desired. — Ashburnham House.” — “What a pity!” cried he: “couldn't your minister invite you on another day?”

Among the curious historical places in France that I wanted to visit during this trip, one of the first was Versailles (see Figure 2.3, Palace of Versailles).1 I had seen this monument to the times and glory of Louis XIV back in the year 1817, but at that time, the magnificent residence of French kings was just emerging from the ashes and dust into which it was cast by the frantic revolution. I will describe my present trip and what I saw, not in a systematic or dogmatic way, but as the trip unfolded and as the words find their way to the page.

Among my acquaintances in Paris, no one else was happier to see me than Alexander Vattemare, the mime and ventriloquist who is also popular in Petersburg. I had received him with pleasure in my home, especially when I got to know his noble character and way of thinking and when I got acquainted with his lovely family. Having heard of my arrival in Paris, he immediately found me, offered his services, invited me to his home, and was extremely helpful to me on many occasions, as I will describe later. His wife, a respectable woman, intelligent and well-bred, was ill at that time and was staying with their children in a suburban house in Marly. Planning to go to Versailles, I gave my word to have dinner at his house on that day. Marly lies not far from there, close to the road that leads to Paris.

I set off for Versailles on Sunday, the 27th of June, in the company of Sofia Ivanovna Conrad and her twelve-year-old son, Alfred, a lovely, clever boy.4 I could not look upon him without heartfelt sadness, thinking that he is being educated and has to grow up in Paris, and

At eight o’clock in the morning, we arrived at the office of the Versailles omnibuses in rue de Rivoli near the Tuileries Palace and barely managed to find seats. The crowds come to Versailles in flocks.

Introduction

In late 2019, I was among the selected Filipino writers who participated in a workshop sponsored by Room to Read, an international non-profit organization that makes a commitment towards accessible literacy campaigns to children in vulnerable communities around the world. The goal of the workshop was to develop short stories for children that centre on gender equality, social inclusion and representation of children's experiences in the Philippine social landscape. The work that I was able to produce is entitled Sayaw ni Dayaw (Dayaw's Dance), later brought to life by Filipino illustrator Harry Monzon and published by Anvil Publishing in 2020. In the story, a little frolicsome girl explores various Philippine cultural dances in search for a dance that fits her playful persona. Ultimately, she discovers that Tinikling, a well-known Philippine cultural dance where performers jump over clashing bamboo poles as fast as they can, is the right dance for her.

During the storybook development stage, there was a move to make the character gender-neutral in terms of the illustration, which meant that she would no longer be wearing the skirt that was representative of the rural community in Leyte, Philippines, where the dance originated. With my background as a cultural dance performer, I respectfully defended the need to differentiate the gender of the performer. In a study that I have conducted on gender roles in Philippine cultural dances (Sayuno 2017), I found that many dances from cultural communities that have foreign influences delineated gender roles: men are expected to be chivalrous for Spanish-influenced Maria Clara dances and polygamous for tribal dances in Mindanao, particularly those originating from the Malay race; women are viewed as demure, waiting for the males to either court them or choose them as the next bride for child-bearing. For rural areas and tribes with lesser to no foreign influence, equality in gender roles is evident. In Cordillera dances, the male and female performers in tribes are seen to have different forms of power and complementary dance movements. In rural areas in Luzon and Visayas, both men and women perform laborious farm work and the challenging movements in their festive dances.

Context

It is impossible to understand the construction of LGBTQ+ Indigenous and Two-Spirit identities without understanding settler colonialism. Colonialism wreaked havoc upon all aspects of Indigenous lives, and these included Indigenous perspectives and practices relating to gender and sexuality. However, until recently, much of the understanding of these perspectives outside of Indigenous communities was developed through non-Indigenous anthropological approaches to queer Indigenous lives, leading to further colonization of queer Indigeneity. These knowledges served not only the project of othering Indigenous peoples to settlers through the development of concepts like ‘berdache’ (discussed further below) but, as non-Native scholar Scott Lauria Morgensen has pointed out, also as stories that let ‘non-Native and presumably white gays and lesbians … imagine that minoritized sexuality made them more like Native people than the settler society in which they lived’ (Morgensen 2011, 63). This approach to understanding queer Indigeneity has often resulted in misinformation and appropriation. It is critical to note that Indigenous nations have different traditions, histories and language

It is critical to note that Indigenous nations have different traditions, histories and language surrounding variance in gender and sexuality within their communities: fa’afafine in Samoa, māhū among the Kanaka Maoli in Hawai‘i, wiŋtke among the Lakota, nadleehi in the Dine Nation, among many others. Reading any of these as ‘lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender or queer’ risks misunderstanding their unique situatedness within the cultures from which they arise, and it would, in fact, be an act of colonization to act as though they map neatly onto Western conceptions of gender or sexuality variance. Indigenous understandings of gender and sexuality arise from within specific nations, and it is not possible to separate these understandings from the traditions and spiritual practices of those communities. While Indigenous peoples share some experiences of colonization and resistance, these specificities inform much of how LGBTQ+ Indigenous, Two-Spirit, or takatāpui people understand their identities.

Introduction

In Brazil, the theme of differences has acquired great visibility in educational circles and in society in general over the last 20 years (Silveira et al. 2012). This is largely due to a series of cultural, political and legal changes (which are still ongoing, and which are briefly explained in the next section) promoted by various sectors, groups and social agents, similar to trends observed in other Western countries. Such changes can be identified in the criteria that have been established for selecting works in government programmes, such as the Programa Nacional Biblioteca da Escola (National School Library Programme), and Programa Nacional Biblioteca da Escola – Temático (National School Library Programme – Themes). Hence, literary works for young people selected for these programmes were reviewed according to criteria relating not only to the aesthetic and literary quality of the works and their potential to stimulate reading practices, but also in regard to the absence of prejudicial and stereotypical representations (concerning what it is like to be black, indigenous, female, homosexual, fat, etc.). This allowed the promotion of (and respect for) differences concerning ethnicity, gender, sexuality, disability, bodily features, age groups, and so on. One of the results of such trends and measures has been the proliferation, especially in the last 15 years, of literary works for young adults, deliberately written to meet the need to discuss such differences. There was an increase in the number of books addressing differences as a whole (and the enrichment resulting from diversity), with stories about black people, disabled people, old people, and so on, and also addressing the prejudice against fat people, the questioning of gender roles and so on. However, in recent years, as we will discuss later, some of these approaches in Brazilian education have been questioned from a conservative point of view.

A significant number of the demands for incorporating themes about differences in multiple dimensions of Brazilian society, among them the National Education Programmes, emerge from the activities carried out by civil society movements. Therefore, we will start this chapter by discussing the organization of social movements committed to policies concerning sexual identity in the country, aiming at delimiting the past and current historical-political conditions in which homosexuality could and may be addressed, especially in the context of the YA literature analysed here.

At four o’clock in the morning, the engine of the steamer started to pound. I came out to the salon, sat by the window, watching the pretty banks of the Elbe, where I had spent many delightful hours, slowly disappear in the distance. The morning was dull and gloomy: it was raining heavily. At about seven o’clock, we passed Cuxhaven and soon sailed into the open sea. The contrary wind grew stronger. The steamer started to roll violently, and all the passengers dispersed to their bunks. Dreary, exasperating, tortuous day! The only consolation was that our Countess Lansdale, despite the oppositional wind, flew like an arrow from a bow, doing up to ten knots per hour. The next day, the waves and the rolling subsided. Passengers climbed out of their dens and got acquainted with each other. But there was none of the refined society of the Naslednik that made me forget the monotony and boredom of the sea voyage. From the previously mentioned fellow passengers, there was only one, young Count Ugarte, who with his pleasant and friendly conversation, at times made me forget my loneliness. There were also two estate owners from Mecklenburg, sailing to London to buy stallions. They did not know a word of English and soon became friends with one crafty Englishman who spoke German very well and managed to take these simple-minded Germans under his British care. Now, I think, he sold them to the horses. The other passengers included English merchants, German Jews, etc., and also two English ladies, Miss Yes and Miss No. This steamer is not laid out as comfortably as ours are. The men's cabins on this steamer are located at the bottom, in the dark. The salon is decorated splendidly, with sofas, bronzes, mirrors; but the upper deck is uneven, narrow, and inconvenient for taking a stroll. It is also worth noting that the cleanliness of the deck was not exemplary. Only one thing was good—the food: breakfast, dinner, supper—delicious, hearty, even sumptuous. The wine and other beverages were good.

Now that I have spent several weeks in Paris, not having seen it for twenty years, it would be interesting to describe how much it has changed. I will start with its exterior features.

The outward appearance of Paris is still the same: crowds, bustle, noise, dirtiness, stench; but some aspects of the city have improved considerably. Thus, for example, the embankment of the Seine from the Louvre to the Hôtel de Ville and beyond has been expanded by the demolition of the houses near the river; it was raised and provided with a wonderful sidewalk lined with trees. Three bridges are built over the Seine on this side: des Saints Peres, d’Arcole, and Louis-Philippe. The magnificent Arc de Triomphe de l’Etoile at the end of the Champs-Elysees has been completed. The gigantic Obelisque de Louxor brought from Egypt rises on the Place Louis XV between the Tuileries Garden and the Champs-Elysées. Rue de Rivoli, running from the Tuileries Palace along the garden to the Avenue des Champs-Elysees, is lined with what looks like one magnificent building with arcades: several state offices are located here, for example, the naval ministry, but the largest part of the street is occupied by first-class hotels. The view of the Seine, through the garden, and of the square—is incomparable.— The Bourse, located on rue Vivienne on a spacious square, also has been finished. It is a wonderful, stately building on the outside, beautiful and well appointed inside. The ceilings and walls are decorated with great taste. The ceiling in the hall of the Commercial Court, as I have stated before, is especially beautiful.— The most important streets in Paris now have sidewalks—not very wide, but nevertheless pleasant for pedestrians. The boulevards are maintained in their former splendor. Excluding a great number of new, private buildings, which are wonderful and stately, everything is dirtied, soiled, smeared by uncleanliness of all kinds. In London, soot is the inevitable consequence of burning coal, and it is spread by the perpetual fog. In Paris, uncleanliness is voluntary—a diligent contribution of the great nation.

So again I am in Germany; again I hear the rumble of huge wagons on the road, hear the cracking of the whip, hear the incessant ja wohl of the inn servants; again I see good Germans, with their ingenuous, honest physiognomies, with pipes or cigarettes in their mouths, as well as pretty German women dressed in varied clothing, with faces expressing trustful, meek dispositions, and carrying little baskets in their arms ….

To describe my trip from Petersburg to Travemünde (see Figure 1.7, Travemünde) would mean to repeat the same things I have said in the past. I will note only some differences. This time I sailed on the steamer Naslednik, the best among all the steamers in the Baltic Sea. Even a week before May 1 (the day of the scheduled departure from Kronstadt), the ice still covered the full expanse of the gulf from Kronstadt to Petersburg and stretched far into the sea. Nobody thought that the navigation channel would open by the appointed date, and I was so certain of my trip's delay that I scheduled a meeting for May 3 with the editors of the Voenny Leksikon. But all of a sudden, on April 26, fierce wind rose from the west, stirred the waters of the gulf, and crushed the ice. The surface was covered with large chunks of ice, which, though very friable, still impeded sailing. Even on the 28th, on Wednesday, in the steamship booking office, there was much doubt that the expected ship would make it, but on the 29th, in the morning, the Naslednik waited at the English Embankment. Redoubtable Captain Bos, who has plied the waves for around 30 years as if walking on dry land and who lost two sons to the sea, departed on the appointed day and hour for Travemünde, and on the fourth day at sea, encountered huge icebergs in the Gulf of Finland; he maneuvered among them for twenty hours, sometimes pressing forward, sometimes retreating, sometimes wading through—and at the appointed hour, he appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, having spent two days on the afterdeck without sleep and almost without any food.

Reaching the bridge over the Rhine, the diligence stopped. A French unterofficer approached the doors, took our passports, and brought them back a quarter of an hour later. The whip cracked, and the horses galloped across the long bridge. This bridge separating France and Germany bore witness to many memorable events. General Ordener galloped along this bridge on a dark night, dragging behind him the victim of Napoleon's malice and revenge, the Duke of Enghien, who was killed several hours later. What was the real reason for the execution of the duke, a descendant from the last branch of the famous House of Conde, a dynasty of heroes? Why didn't Napoleon attempt to eliminate any of the members of the older line who had closer rights to the French throne? The answer is personal revenge. As this circumstance might not be widely known, I will relate it now. In 1804, Bonaparte, getting ready to seize the French crown, and having lost hope to force Louis XVIII to abdicate, tried to raise hatred and contempt for the Bourbons among the French people by insulting them every day with the basest slanders in Le Moniteur and in other official newspapers. The Duke of Enghien, angered by this attack on the honor of his royal house, sent the first consul a challenge to a duel, inviting him to meet at a neutral place, and there to settle the matter with weapons. The King of Sweden, Gustav IV, also signed this letter, offering himself as a second. Having received the challenge, Bonaparte flew into a rage and angrily ordered his men to capture the duke, bring him to the Chateau de Vincennes, and to shoot him there. Had Gustaf IV not managed to flee, he would have suffered the same fate. This story appears in the memoirs ascribed to Prince Hardenberg (Mémoires d’un homme d’Etat, IX, 208): it was reported by the king of Sweden to one famous traveler in Italy.

The diligence stopped in the little town of Kehl at customs, located in a small house on the right side of the road.

Introduction

In this chapter, I discuss seven works of French young adult (YA) fiction featuring bisexual characters: five stand-alone novels, and two books from a series. Bisexuality is a topic that has not been addressed in extant literature on queer YA fiction written in French, and one in which, as a bi woman myself, I have a personal interest. In my analysis, I explore the epistemic construction of bisexuality within these novels; that is, the ways in which the depiction (or non-depiction) of bisexuality and bisexual characters contributes to a supposed body of ‘knowledge’ about bisexuality, both within and beyond the novels. I identify a number of themes in the corpus, namely: bisexuality as a ‘problem’; bisexual erasure; stereotypes and the ‘bisexual plot’; and bisexual people as ‘normal’ and straight-passing.

When I began conducting preliminary research for this chapter, it quickly became apparent that very few French-language YA novels with bisexual characters were available. Many of the limited number of titles included in bibliographies and booklists were translations from English, and one blogger noted that bisexuality is still ‘appallingly neglected’ in YA literature (Gabriel 2018, n.p.). The advantage, from a research perspective, of this otherwise disappointing situation was that it gave me a defined corpus to work with. For this chapter, I have chosen to focus on YA novels originally written in French and published in France during the second decade of the twenty-first century. Epstein (2013, 238) suggests that LGBTQ+ books for children and young people tend to reflect the legal and social realities of the countries they are written in, and I was thus interested in looking at more recently published books, as France has seen substantive legal changes affecting LGBTQ+ people over the past two decades (discussed further below). Picture books, middle-grade works or graphic novels might well portray bisexuality differently from YA novels, while texts written and published in other Francophone countries (such as Canada) would have a different social, cultural and legal context.

“What are we going to do today?” — I asked my cicerone. — “Whatever you wish,” he responded: “Would you like to visit one of the most famous London hospitals? You will be surprised at how orderly, clean, and well-supplied it is.” — “No!” said I: “I willingly believe that the hospital is clean and orderly, but I cannot bring myself to spoil my day by beginning it with an examination of a picture of human suffering that I am not able to relieve. It would be a different matter if I were the member of a hospital board or the supervisor or the doctor. Then I would be able to learn something in the hospital, but to go there like that, out of sheer curiosity—I cannot venture.” — “Well, then, would you like to see the notorious Fleet prison? It is worth seeing.” “Rubbish!” exclaimed Allan, having just entered the room and overhearing these words of my guide. “There is nothing for you to do there. And I would never have gone there myself if my friend, Chambers, the director of the Italian Opera, hadn't served a ten-year sentence in it. Instead, let's go see Truman's Brewery, and the printing house and editorial office of the newspaper, The Times.” — “With pleasure.” — “Would you also like to see the huge Longman bookshop?” — “Let's go! Let's gallop!”

First of all, we visited the brewery, located in Spitalfields, the part of London that I already mentioned. This brewery comprises a whole town in itself. Barley is poured, steamed, etc., in extremely large vats, about two sazhens in diameter; it is turned by spades that are so big one could take walks on them. We wandered, climbed, crawled for over two hours through all parts of the brewery to see how the barley grain is transformed into a drop of beer. In the last room, the brewed beer of various kinds—stout, ale, porter, etc.—is stored in giant barrels that, in size and durability, can be compared to a house in Peski or in Vyborg district. Now I understand how all the streets become flooded with beer when a barrel like that bursts.