Friday, 15 May 2020

Queering the Tudor Hunt


Audrey Thorstad
Lectuer in Early Modern History
a.thorstad@bangor.ac.uk

The popularity of queer theory in the historical discipline has steadily increased over the last few years, but it is not a new approach to the past. Thirty-five years ago, Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick published Between Men: English Literature and Male Homosocial Desire (New York, 1985) and it is widely recognised as one of the foundational works for queer theory, particularly thinking about male sexuality. In the monograph, much of her argument is structured around an asymmetrical erotic triangle wherein men who desire each other (sexually or otherwise) transmit that desire through a woman, thus creating a triangulation. This trope, Sedgwick argues, was commonplace in literature from the pre-modern to our own contemporary. According to Sedgwick,

‘…in any erotic rivalry, the bond that links two rivals is as intense and potent as the bond that links either of the rivals to the beloved: that the bonds of ‘rivalry’ and ‘love’ differently as they are experiences, are equally powerful and in many senses equivalent…and within the male-centered novelistic tradition of European high culture, the triangles…are most often those in which two males are rivals for a female’.[1]

 For Sedgwick, the beloved – almost always a woman – then becomes the object, or conduit, of relationships between two rival men. The rivalry creates a common cause: to win the heart of the beloved, but their rivalry relationship is just as strongly desired as the desire for the object of their infatuation. For Sedgwick, then, homosocial desire – encompassing platonic friendships, affection, sex, and more – is a given amongst men within the triangle. As a result, the homosocial is drawn back into the orbit of ‘desire’, of potential eroticism, and creates not a binary of sexuality and gender, but an unbrokenness of a continuum between homosocial and homosexual, and thus broadens our understanding of sexuality.

To illustrate the erotic triangle and the homosocial desire that it creates, I want to look at hunting during the reign of Henry VIII (1509-1547). On 24 June 1509, Henry VIII had a joint coronation with his wife of two weeks, Catherine of Aragon. Edward Hall (c. 1496-c. 1547) provides a detailed account of the ceremonies in his contemporary chronicle, including a rather interesting hunting scene that was performed in front of the new queen and her ladies:

‘like a parke, paled with pales of white and grene, wherein wer certain Fallowe Dere, and in the same parke curious Trees made by crafte, with Busshes, Fernes, and other thynges in likewise wrought, goodly to beholde. The whiche Parke or diuyse, being brought before the Quene had certain gates thereof opened, the Dere ranne out thereof into the Palaice’.[2]

The pageant-like [3] issuing a challenge to all comers. This challenge was answered by eight servants of Diana.[4] A deal was struck between the two groups of men: whoever vanquished the other group of knights in their ‘dedes of armes’ kept the deer that were killed and the greyhounds that helped kill them. After the challenge was accepted Queen Catherine called for her husband, Henry VIII, to oversee the competition and to ensure the rules were fair.
performance continues with eight mounted knights calling themselves the scholars of Pallas

This scene was very much for entertainment, it was a make-shift park with trees ‘made by craft’ and it was all set up within the palace. It did, however, have real deer, real greyhounds, and real men, and we should not forget that several deer were killed for the narrative. For our purposes, this episode as described by Hall, can be approached through Sedgwick’s asymmetrical erotic triangle with the two groups of rival knights as the rival opponents chasing the beloved: the deer. Although women are mentioned in the narrative – it is performed in front of Queen Catherine and her ladies – it is not their favour that the knights desire. The deer, at least in this episode, is more important, and I would argue that the violence and bloodshed that came along with the killing of their prize is the activity that helped link the two rival groups together. Moreover, with the deer as the conduit for male homosocial desire it meant that the ingredients for heterosexual desire were not all accounted for: the woman was of course missing. The ladies’ favour as the ultimate prize was usurped by that of the slaughtered animals. With the arrival of Henry VIII to oversee the hunting scene, we get an added element. Not only do the groups of knights want to win the prize of the deer and greyhounds, but they now want to impress their king, who is young, physically fit, and an avid hunter. The goal, then, is to impress other men rather than women. Their ambition to impress the king and win the challenge are the ingredients for creating a situation in which ‘homosocial desire’ can be fostered. The prize is simply an object to be won. The importance of the exchange comes in the form of emotional closeness to the other men in the triangle. Rivalry, competition, teamwork, and physical exertion can all create emotional closeness, and all were needed in the hunt. In this sense, it might be argued that homosocial desire can be obtained outside the parameters of the heterosexual pursuit of the lover/beloved scenario with the woman – the beloved – easily replaced with another object to be won.

What does the exploration of such case studies tell us about the Tudor period? First and foremost, it demonstrates that a queer reading of the pre-modern past is possible and allows us to see the Tudor court in a new and exciting way. Hunting was one of the most important pastimes that an elite, able-bodied, white, educated man in the sixteenth century could perform, and he needed to perform it well in front of his peers and superiors, usually other men. By applying queer theory to the hunt, we get the sense that it enabled those of the hegemony to perform homosocial desire for one another without stepping outside the boundaries of the expected warrior masculine identity. Being able to perform these pastimes allowed men to become part of the hegemonic power structure at the Tudor court, thus giving them access to high-ranking officials and, more importantly, the king. Secondly, the hunting scene from Hall’s Chronicle demonstrates the role – or lack thereof sometimes – that women played in male homosocial desire. The woman, the ‘beloved’ in the triangle, could quite easily be replaced by an animal. Indeed, in Middle English romance literature the hunt of a deer is often paralleled with the chase of courtly love, both of which liken the ‘prize’ (whether that is the deer or the woman) as an object to be won usually by the pursuer physically exerting themselves in order to prove they are worthy. Thirdly, I do not want to deny the fact that women did hunt and they certainly could be in a hunting party at this time. In these situations, the role of women changes slightly, particularly if they are partaking in the hunt rather than simply spectating. In any case, female homosocial desire and its construction were outside the scope of this short piece; however, I am sure it would prove to be a fruitful endeavour. Finally, to reiterate the fact that ‘homosocial desire’ does not automatically mean sexual desire.  What this concept does is gives us a broader continuum of sexuality, moving us away from binaries and enables more freedom to understand emotions, bonds, desires, and relationships in the past.

In the thirtieth anniversary edition of Between Men, Wayne Koestenbaum writes in the foreword:

‘Sedgwick demonstrates that a good reason for a critic to be clever and to identify buried erotic metaphors in canonical poetry is to figure forth a society in which people are encouraged to take an empathetic and benign attitude toward sodomitical behaviours…she wants to help us dream up a culture that gives ample acreage for unaccustomed pleasure, without shame’.[5]

As purveyors of the past, surely we can grant this to the historical figures that we explore. 



[1] Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick published Between Men: English Literature and Male Homosocial Desire (New York, 1985), p. 21.
[2] Edward Hall, The union of the two noble and illustre famelies of Lancastre and Yorke […] (London, 1548), p. vi.
[3] Pallas is the epithet given to the Greek goddess Athena who is associated with wisdom and warfare.
[4] Diana is the Roman goddess of the hunt, wild animals, and fertility.
[5] Wayne Koestenbaum, ‘Forward’, in Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick published Between Men: English Literature and Male Homosocial Desire, 30th anniversary edition (New York, 2016), p. xv.






A Little Gay History of Bangor

Daryl Leeworthy
Research Fellow at Swansea University

Dr Leeworthy delivered a version of this paper in a research seminar to mark LGBTQ+ History month at Bangor University on February 5th, 2020.

Open the pages of Broadsheet, a newsletter published by the Leeds branch of the Gay Liberation Front (GLF) in the early 1970s, and you’ll find mention of the long-forgotten Bangor GLF. Gay liberation arrived in Bangor in the aftermath of the National Union of Students coming out in favour of lesbian and gay rights at their Easter conference in 1973. In those days, if you wanted a pint in an LGBT-friendly environment and studied at Bangor, you had to travel to Llandudno. Known to some as the Brighton of Wales, there were a couple of the hotel bars which were known as being safe – most notably the Rembrandt Bar at the Washington Hotel. The convenor of Bangor GLF was Simon del Nevo (or perhaps del Novo, the sources were never consistent) who was the central figure involved in establishing the LGBT civil rights movement at the university almost fifty years ago.

But 1973 was not the first step that Bangor took on the road to achieving civil rights for LGBT people, either locally or across Wales and Britain as a whole. Instead, we must look to a young lecturer in English Literature who was working at Bangor in the 1950s and early 1960s: A. E. Dyson. A graduate of Cambridge University, where he got to know the poet Thom Gunn, whose 1992 collection The Man with Night Sweats vividly described the HIV/AIDS crisis, Dyson took it upon himself to co-ordinate a letter in the spring of 1958 calling for decriminalisation of male homosexuality. Signed by figures including former Labour prime minister Clement Attlee and published in The Times, Dyson’s letter marked the beginning of almost a decade of campaigning which resulted in the 1967 Sexual Offences Act, which partially decriminalised homosexual relationships between men.

Remarkably, Dyson had written to would-be supporters using (as Bangor was then known)  University College of North Wales headed notepaper, which not only identified Dyson’s place of work but also exposed him to potential blackmail if his correspondents turned out to be hostile to his request rather than sympathetic. In the event, not only were Attlee and others, sympathetic, they agreed to support Dyson in establishing the Homosexual Law Reform Society – the first of the post-war LGBT civil rights organisations. In other words, the long march towards equality, in Wales, at least, began not in Cardiff or Swansea, as might be expected, but in the English Literature Department in Bangor. That deserves a blue plaque. Or, even better, a rainbow one!

The story did not end either in 1958 or 1973. By the 1980s, Bangor was beginning to develop a modest gay scene of its own. Pubs like the King’s Arms and the Union Hotel were recognised as gay friendly, and student lesbian and gay groups met there or at Ty Gwydr (the Green House). The Green House was home, too, to the local advice lines and telephone counselling services such as the Lesbian Line. Eventually, in 1983, Bangor had its first gay bar – at the student union. It was the brainchild of the LGBT society’s then secretary, Simon Moss, a biology student. No more travelling to Chester or Liverpool, as did students in the 1970s.

There remains much more of this history to uncover, of course, and many stories of those involved in developing the LGBT groups and facilities in Bangor in the 1980s and 1990s need to be captured for the future: either written down or recorded. But even a short sketch of the contours of Bangor’s more recent LGBT history shows, I think, just how rich this often-hidden aspect of the past happens to be. The essays in this special issue of 1884 confirm it.

Croeso

Croeso bawb i ail rifyn 1884!

Nôl ym mis Chwefror dathlodd Prifysgol Bangor fis hanes LGBTQ+.  Er mwyn nodi’r achlysur pwysig hwn fe benderfynom ni yma yn 1884 sylfaenu’r ail rifyn o’r cylchgrawn o amgylch themâu LGBTQ+ a rhywedd.


Mae’r rhifyn hwn hefyd yn cynnwys erthygl arbennig iawn sydd wedi’i chyfrannu gan Dr Daryl Leeworthy, sydd yn gymrawd ymchwil yn Mhrifysgol Abertawe.  Ymwelodd Dr Leeworthy â Bangor nôl yn Chwefror i draddodi seminar ymchwil fel rhan o fis hanes LGBTQ+, ac yn garedig iawn mae wedi cyflwyno fersiwn o’i gyflwyniad i ni ar ffurf erthygl.  Mae Rhifyn 2 hefyd yn cynnwys erthyglau gan staff a myfyrwyr, gan ymgorffori rhychwant eang o themâu: o frenhinoedd Stiwartaidd hoyw i LGBTQ+ yn y gymuned sipsi.  Diolch unwaith eto i’n cyfranwyr i gyd.


Hoffem hefyd gymryd y cyfle i ddiolch i gymdeithas LGBTQ+ y Brifysgol, gan gynnwys Alaw Dafis a Tadgh Crozier am eu cefnogaeth ac arweiniad gyda’r rhifyn.  Ni allem fod wedi gallu cyflawni hyn heb eu cymorth!


Gan obeithio’ch gweld yn yr haf!


Tom Wilkinson-Gamble & Molly Southward

Croeso/ Welcome

Croeso bawb i ail rifyn 1884!

Nôl ym mis Chwefror dathlodd Prifysgol Bangor fis hanes LGBTQ+.  Er mwyn nodi’r achlysur pwysig hwn fe benderfynom ni yma yn 1884 sylfaenu’r ail rifyn o’r cylchgrawn o amgylch themâu LGBTQ+ a rhywedd.


Mae’r rhifyn hwn hefyd yn cynnwys erthygl arbennig iawn sydd wedi’i chyfrannu gan Dr Daryl Leeworthy, sydd yn gymrawd ymchwil yn Mhrifysgol Abertawe.  Ymwelodd Dr Leeworthy â Bangor nôl yn Chwefror i draddodi seminar ymchwil fel rhan o fis hanes LGBTQ+, ac yn garedig iawn mae wedi cyflwyno fersiwn o’i gyflwyniad i ni ar ffurf erthygl.  Mae Rhifyn 2 hefyd yn cynnwys erthyglau gan staff a myfyrwyr, gan ymgorffori rhychwant eang o themâu: o frenhinoedd Stiwartaidd hoyw i LGBTQ+ yn y gymuned sipsi.  Diolch unwaith eto i’n cyfranwyr i gyd.

Hoffem hefyd gymryd y cyfle i ddiolch i gymdeithas LGBTQ+ y Brifysgol, gan gynnwys Alaw Dafis a Tadgh Crozier am eu cefnogaeth ac arweiniad gyda’r rhifyn.  Ni allem fod wedi gallu cyflawni hyn heb eu cymorth!

Gan obeithio’ch gweld yn yr haf!

Tom Wilkinson-Gamble & Molly Southward

Welcome, everybody, to the second issue of 1884!


Back in February, Bangor University celebrated LGBTQ+ month. In order to mark this special occasion, we here at 1884 decided to theme our second issue around everything LGBTQ+ and gender.


This issue also includes a very special article contributed by Dr Daryl Leeworthy, a research fellow at Swansea University. Dr Leeworthy visited Bangor back in February to deliver a research seminar to mark LGBTQ+ History month and very generously submitted a version of his presentation in article-form. Issue 2 also contains articles from both staff and students with a wide variety of themes ranging from homosexual Stewart monarchs to LGBTQ+ in the gypsy community. Thank you once again to all of our contributors.


We would also like to take this opportunity to thank the universities LGBTQ+ society as well as Alaw Dafis and Tadgh Crozier for their support and guidance during the creation of this issue. We would not have been able to do this without their help.


We hope to see you in the summer!

Tom Wilkinson-Gamble & Molly Southward

Tuesday, 12 May 2020

Rhifyn/Issue 1/1 and Rhifyn Arbennig/Special Issue 1 available in print

Should you want to obtain a printed copy of 1884 Rhifyn/Issue 1, Ionawr/January 2020 (1884 1/1), this is now available. You can order your copy online by following this link, or order it via the bookshop of your choice by asking for it by its ISBN: 978-3-752950-90-8. 

1884 1/1 contains all articles published in January 2020. 76 pages A4, numerous illustrations, mostly B/W.

Since it is being printed in Germany, a copy costs € 12 (+ c. € 7.50 in postage and packing).


Rhifyn Arbennig/Special Issue 1 of 1884 (Tobias Heron, Headhunting in Iron Age Europe; 1884 RA/SI 1) is also available now. A free download of the whole volume is available under this link. In case you prefer to read it in hardcopy, you can order your copy online by following this linkor order it via the bookshop of your choice by asking for it by its ISBN: 978-3-752950-91-5.

1884 RA/SI 1 is a monograph, which originally was submitted as an MA thesis at Bangor University. 82 pages A4, numerous B/W illustrations.

Since it is being printed in Germany, a copy costs € 12 (+ c. € 7.50 in postage and packing).


If you wish to obtain a review copy of either 1884 1/1 or 1884 RA/SI 1, please contact our publisher.