Queer retellings: an original twist on tales as old as time

Nothing says fairytale like the feminine urge to run away with your best friend

(Photo by Alice Alinari on Unsplash)

Queer representation has been enjoying a boom in 2021, and for the first time, it doesn’t feel like just a Pride boom. We’re seeing characters get more diverse, but better yet, we’re seeing their stories get more diverse as well!

Branching out from the “coming out” YA romance plot the LGBTQ+ community has been relegated to for years, queer protagonists are taking over new narratives, and new genres.

YA fantasy, in particular, is currently bursting with queer retellings of beloved fairy tales and classics. These are the stories I wish I’d had during my own youth, instead of, you know, the heteronormative love triangle plots lurking at every corner (I’m looking at you, Twilight, but also at you, The Great Gatsby).

From Tara Sim’s Scavenge the Stars, a gender-swapped retelling of The Count of Monte Cristo, to this summer’s much talked-about Sleeping Beauty reimagining Malice by Heather Walter, the world of mainstream YA literature is gradually opening up to more LGBTQ+ representation.

Here are some recent queer retellings which would have made my teenage self scream with glee, along with insights from the authors themselves about the stories and LGBTQ+ representation in publishing.

Cinderella, as you know her, is Dead

In an article for YA Pride, Kalynn Bayron, author of Cinderella Is Dead, shares that she’s always loved fantasy and sci-fi, but while she saw all kinds of impossible creatures in these stories, she never saw Black or queer people.

Kalynn shares that Cinderella Is Dead, a YA fantasy that centres queer Black girls, was the story she wanted and needed to tell. “I wanted to add to a growing list of fantasies that centre Black queer women,” she says.

You won’t be surprised to hear that this endeavour was a challenging one, especially in 2016 when she first started working on the story. “Publishing is very white, very cis, and very straight. And I saw that reflected in the titles that dominated the YA section of the bookstore,” the author remembers.

Sadly, but far from shockingly, Kalynn knew right away that placing a queer Black girl at the heart of a YA fantasy was inevitably going to bring about “racism with a sprinkle of homophobia masquerading as critique” from publishers, but she kept on. Her mission was clear: to provide young LGBTQ+ readers who wanted to see themselves reflected in these stories with as many book choices as their cis, straight peers.

Step one of this plan has certainly been a success. Her novel hit the shelves in 2020 and has since become a roaring success with readers across the globe.

The YA fantasy, set 200 years after Cinderella’s death, takes place in a kingdom which uses her story as a guide for its society. “I’ve always been fascinated by fairy tales and the effect they have on who we become,” Kalynn says. This idea rings true both within the story, where a whole tradition is based on the well-known story, and in the real world, where young readers are shaped by what they see and don’t see in fairy tales.

“Cinderella is one of the most instantly recognizable fairy tales, with very recognizable villains,” the author adds, coyly avoiding spoilers but giving us a plot hook to ponder. “My first question whenever I hear a story about villainous women is always this—who is telling this story? Because history is written by the victors.”

The Queer Villains Society

Much like Kalynn, Heather Walter is an author fascinated with exploring the nuance behind villainous women in fairy tales. Her debut novel Malice takes us on a deep dive into what the real motive of the dark fairy in Sleeping Beauty could have been.

“The only answer that came to mind was love,” says Heather. “I decided that the dark fairy being in love with the princess was actually a far more believable and even relatable rationale. The rest of the story flourished from there.”

Heather also admits that making the story a queer retelling wasn’t a deliberate choice as such (and honestly, we love to see some casual representation). She tells us she wanted to focus on Alyce (the dark fairy) because villainous characters are more complex, and usually have greater stakes in the plot. “I thought Alyce, who is an outcast in her society because of magic rather than her queerness, deserved to be the star of the show,” the author comments.

That said, Heather doesn’t deny that we still live in an extremely heteronormative society, where fairy tales tend to always be about a prince and a princess. And while she doesn’t think villains are necessarily portrayed as queer because queerness is “evil”, the author admits that it comes down to contrast. “What might be considered the exact opposite of a straight “good” character? A queer “bad” one,” she points out.

Of course, constantly portraying queer characters as villains or “others” only reinforces an “us vs. them” mentality on both sides, Heather adds. “I felt we have plenty of stories in which queer people are despised for their queerness,” she says. So she deliberately made Briar, the kingdom where her story is set, a place which accepts same-sex couples without backlash.

“Many people have commented on the ‘original spin’ of having the princess and the dark fairy fall in love,” the author shares (spoilers, I guess?). “One day, I hope it’s not original. We need queer stories of all kinds.”

As Heather points out, it’s unfortunately too common in mainstream media to see queer characters in the role of the “gay best friend”, or make their entire story revolve around their sexuality. I’m sure you can name at least half a dozen books, films and TV shows where that’s the case off the top of your head; I certainly can.

And while in theory there’s nothing wrong with these kinds of queer stories, we must make room for others, the author adds, such as “light and fluffy” queer YA romance or a fantasy in which the queerness of the main characters is never an issue. “[That’s] the only way straightness will no longer be considered the norm,” Heather concludes, and honestly, truer words have never been spoken.

Gender-bending, swashbuckling queers

That said, I think we can all agree that as well as diversifying the narratives, there’s still a lot of work to be done towards including all corners of the queer community; and Tara Sim is certainly one author who really pushes the boundaries of LGBTQ+ representation in current YA fantasy.

Scavenge the Stars, her gender-swapped retelling of The Count of Monte Cristo, is packed full of queer positivity, from prominent bisexual representation among the protagonists to a supporting cast featuring sapphic, asexual and non-binary characters.

“I like creating stories that are safe spaces for my readers,” Tara comments. “I know how it feels to not find yourself in books, and I have the ability to fashion new worlds however I like, so why not make a world that’s free of homophobia? Why not show people who are out and not afraid to be so?”

Well, she certainly succeeds in that endeavour! What’s more, the author is quick to point out that even though the main relationship in Scavenge the Stars is between a man and a woman, it’s not a hetero one.

Putting such relationships in the spotlight is a great way to combat the labelling of mixed-gender couples as straight; a practice which sadly continues today, despite the increased bi and pan visibility.

Tara also notes that there’s still a lot of biphobia out there, even within the LGBTQ+ community, alongside assumptions that bisexuals are attracted to each gender equally. “However,” she adds with no small amount of cheekiness, “those who portray bi folks as chaotic disasters are absolutely correct.”

Her male protagonist, Cayo, is one such “chaotic disaster” among the handful of explicitly bisexual men in popular culture. And when I say handful, I mean it literally - you could probably count openly bi male characters on the fingers of one hand.

“He just came to me that way,” Tara admits when we ask whether Cayo’s sexual identity was a conscious choice. “A lot of times I don’t make a deliberate choice for my characters regarding their sexualities; rather, as I’m learning who they are as a person I come to realize their identities... Cayo was always bi because he seemed bi, because he is bi.”

This is exactly the type of casual representation many queer authors like Tara are currently pushing for by setting an example with the stories they tell. It’s definitely a step towards liberating LGBTQ+ characters from the shackles of the “coming out” narrative and unleashing them into the world of versatile stories their heterosexual counterparts have always enjoyed.

The queer fantasy of the future

There’s no denying that increased LGBTQ+ representation has a huge impact on both adult and young readers. Heather, for instance, shares that multiple people have reached out to say they wished they had had a story like Malice when they were a teen.

“I think Alyce is a character people can relate to,” the author contemplates. “She’s angry, selfish, stubborn—she’s human. The fact that she finds love, in the face of a society who hates her and tells her no one could love her, speaks to the queer population.”

It’s not surprising that queer people from all ages can relate to these themes; after all, they closely reflect the lived experiences of the LGBTQ+ community. And with such stories breaking into the mainstream, we can certainly feel optimistic about the future of publishing.

Tara, not unlike a benevolent queer godmother, wishes that more young people get to see themselves being the hero and going on adventures, or even fulfilling their villain fantasies. “I also hope [queer representation] becomes common enough that readers who aren’t in the LGBTQ+ community won’t even bat an eye at it.”