Looking at the World Through Gay-Coloured Glasses
by Tony Heyes
Twenty years ago, at the college where I used to work as a lecturer (professor), I was having lunch with some colleagues. A student had suggested the setting up of a gay society for staff and students. One of the lecturers at our table was outraged, saying there were no gay people in the college. Three of the people lunching with him were gay. He was, needless to say, the sports lecturer

Nowadays most of us would be "out" but passing for straight is something most gay people have done at one time or another. Aware from a very early age of how other people see us, we manage our identity accordingly. Most of us avoid being found out before we out ourselves. We are so conscious of being looked at that we lose sight of how we ourselves look at the straight world. I realised this recently whilst trying to write an account of my school days. My family and friends commented on the clarity of my memory and acuteness of observation.

To help me, I logged on to the website Friends Reunited. School reunions are practically unknown in England, year books don't exist (which is as well. Most people would be hard put to tell you what year they belonged to). School is something most people of my generation prefer to forget so the success of Friends Reunited has taken everyone by surprise. No longer do you wonder "what ever became of old Jones". All you have to do is log on to the website and, provided old Jones has registered too, you can find out or even get in touch. Surely enlisting the help of people not seen for years, I thought,  would help me flesh out my account still more.  

I couldn't have been more mistaken. Although I knew I'd kept a low profile at school, it turned out to have been positively subterranean. Few people remembered any detail at all; fewer still remembered me. They scarcely remembered anybody! This set me wondering about why I had remembered so much. I've decided it's because I'm gay. I never played any games or ran in any races, so was never thought of as a participant in life as it's seen by school kids but I observed a great deal. Being gay means that not only do you look at the world very differently from the way straight people look at it, you look at it far more intently.

Straight society puts gay people in a false position. We see ourselves as one thing, society as another, so we inevitably see from a different angle from the majority. Our intuitive sense of self forces us to interpret ourselves on our own, not society's terms. This puts us in a paradoxical position, in society but out of sympathy with it, like a secret agent in hostile territory. Being strangers in a strange land affects us in several ways: we either de-emphasise or ignore the paradox, live with the paradox ironically, or question and challenge the societal myths that created the paradox in the first place.

Consequently gay sensibility is not so much a way of looking at the world as a mode of being, a means of re-creating culture so as to live safely within it. Where gay people have differed from straight is in the ability and need to adopt a variety of social roles, re-forming and re-contextualising our identity, seeming to conform to society's norms, i.e. de-emphasising the paradox so as to make it harmless. We make our own world.

This fluidity of role-playing leads to a questioning of the apparent solidity of orthodoxy as against paradoxy. This impinges directly on our creativity. The gay person's experience of cultural norms is ironic; nothing is as it seems. As a paradox in an orthodox world, the gay person is ironically detached from prevailing cultural myths, especially of sexuality, and has a deep appreciation of the nature of appearance as appearance. The gay person knows that he/she is not as commonly described and consequently is driven to question all aspects of conventional wisdom. This can result in the subversion of accepted forms, the "sending up" of straight conventions. Any appreciation of art produced by a gay person must be alive to the possibility that conventional forms may be being used in an ironic manner. All need not necessarilly be as it seems; it probably isn't. To the gay person eternal truths are merely contingent, a comfortable shoring up of the convenient (for the straight) status quo. For the thinking gay person heresy is the norm. The whole mechanism of gay sensibility derives from a self-conscious questioning of accepted norms and an ironic apprehension of them. The discrepancy between appearance and reality is, for the gay person, an ever-present conundrum.

It follows that the outlook of a gay person will resonate differently from that of one who does not share the same mind set. Life is invested with a different meaning from that it is given by others. Within this context the gay outlook functions as both a channel of communication and a creator of meaning, providing the subject with the data to be processed in order to create that meaning, the subject's mind set determining what data are chosen and how they are interpreted.

Given that this is so, it becomes possible to argue that there is such a thing as a distinctly gay point of view. Gay people are forced to reprocess all the material that the straight world hands them. In literature this has produced works that constantly expose the soft underbelly of straight society, demonstrating how it oppresses not only gay people but all who march to the sound of a different drum. Going beyond this, we can say that Art does not simply reflect reality but possesses the power to shape it. Art produced within a homosexual context contributes to Society's discourse; it has something to say to those who understand the language in which it is couched. This ability to speak the language, to "pick up the signals", is crucial in grasping the meaning of any art.

That this requires gay-coloured glasses may be obvious to gay people, yet the straight world remains obtuse. Leon Edel managed to read all the works and letters of Henry James without it dawning on him that James was gay. Where was he looking? Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake, we are told by critics, is not a gay reinterpretation of the story but is about relationships. Where are they looking? It is amazing how much goes unnoticed.

When I come across instances like these, and there are dozens of others, I realise that I do wear gay-coloured glasses; I do look at the world sideways when compared with straight society and I'm thankful that far from fostering illusions, these glasses show me the real world. The problem is, when is the real world going to catch on too?


I am grateful to M. Foucault, E. Goffman, E. Husserl, B. Pronger, and T. Mowl, whose writings helped shape this article. The final mixture is my own.


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