We’ve Always Been Here, Part 3: Even More Queer History Through the Ages

June 19- The Galli

Polytheistic Roman society not only worshiped multiple gods, but often imported them from other cultures, sometimes to serve their own interests. Such is the case with Cybele, an Anatolian (modern day Turkiye) goddess called Magna Matter, “the Great Mother,” by ancient Romans. This “mystery cult” was officially brought to Rome, and a temple installed for its goddess on the Palatine Hill, in 204 B.C.E. in response to a prophecy given by Sibylline oracles instructing the Romans to find a goddess that would help them win their war against Carthage. 

Cybele’s worshipers would celebrate her by parading in the streets, dancing, playing music, and flagellating themselves, a performance which must have seemed quite a departure from traditional Roman religious practice. However, the aspect of this religion that we are going to focus on for the rest of this blog post are the priests of Cybele, called the Galli. 

An important part of Cybele’s mythic back story was her consort Attis, who castrated himself after being driven insane by the goddess. In imitation of Attis, the most devout worshipers of Cybele, the Galli, also castrated themselves upon joining her religion. After castration, they would dress exclusively in borrowed women’s clothing, becoming mendicants (beggars) who likely made a living by telling fortunes and through prostitution. 

Unfortunately, the Galli themselves left no written record. What little we do know of them comes from the writings of elite Roman male authors, who at first treated the Galli as a curiosity, referring to them at times as a “middle gender” or a “third sex.” However, the way that Roman society responded to the Galli changed over time. As Rome became more expansionist and transitioned from a republic into an empire, the Galli came under increasing criticism and stigma. Authors increasingly began to brand the Galli as a dangerous, foreign, and unRoman like influence, using them to reaffirm traditional notions of Roman masculinity. The Galli, whose members had all been assigned male at birth, threatened elite Roman male gender norms through their castration, which left them infertile, and through the wearing of women’s clothing and jewelry, which marked them as effeminate.

Yet, we have no way of knowing how the Galli actually viewed themselves. Historians have attempted to draw connections between the Galli and the modern transgender community, but a direct comparison is problematic because Roman society did not share our modern conception of gender. Perhaps some Galli, if they lived today, would consider themselves to be transgender, but this identification cannot be assumed for all members. While we should not look back on the Galli today, and classify them strictly according to our own understanding of gender, we can still use their presence as a reminder that gender has always been more complex than a simple binary, and that queerness has always been a part of history.

Sources:

June 18- Dominique Phinot

One of the saddest ways that historians become aware of a queer person’s sexuality is when they are murdered or sentenced to death for who they are. The criminalization, imprisonment and execution of young men for being gay was a fairly regular occurrence in Christian Europe. Such is the case of the Renaissance composer Dominique Phinot.

Likely born in France sometime around 1510, Phinot spent most of his musical career in Italy and became known for his choral compositions featuring polychoral singing, a style that typically incorporates 2 choirs spaced a bit apart who would alternate turns at singing. The first of his musical works received their initial printings between 1538 and 1555, likely while the composer was in his mid to late twenties. For his various works he was praised by other musicians of his time including Heinrich Finck, a German composer, who ranked Phinot amongst other musical greats such as Crecquillon, Clemens non Papa, and Gombert, while Pietro Cerone called Phinot “one of the first and best composers of our time.” Later in his career Phino served both the court and church in 1554 and 1555, as we know he was proposed by the Duke of Urbino to be the “cantor”, singer or choirmaster, at the cathedral in Pesaro.

Dominique Phinot was executed in 1556, for sodomy and homosexual practices, marking the recording of his death by Girolamo Cardano as the last mention of him in known recorded history. Despite these brief mentions in historical recordings, Dominique Phinot himself produced a massive catalog of written works, including musical compositions covering themes from love songs and biblical scripture to satirical attacks on the clergy, including:

  • 2 Masses
  • 4 Magnificats
  • 2 Italian Madrigals
  • 2 books of French Chansons
  • Over 90 Motets

Some of his works can be heard online, and they carry distinctly period-esque sounds, giving insights into the musical entertainment and religious worship of Phinot’s day, providing a unique immersive experience for anachronists. It is sad that such a talented musician and composer’s works would be cut short due to the small minded bigotry of others. Fortunately his music lives on, and his story with it, a reminder of the price queer people have paid, their stories written in blood and, in Phinot’s case, splashed across pages of musical notation. 

Sources:

~Lord Ragnall Cennétig (he/him) 

June 17- Hans Christian Andersen

Hans Christian Andersen was a master of the literary fairy tale. Born on April 2, 1805, in Odense, near Copenhagen, Denmark, into a working-class family where his father was a shoemaker and his mother worked as a washerwoman. His mother was illiterate, and although his father had only an elementary education, he loved literature and introduced his son to stories such as “Arabian Nights.” Unfortunately, his father passed away when Hans was just 11 years old. After this, Hans became obsessed with storytelling. His mother disapproved of such silliness and sent him to find work. Hans worked as a weaver, a tobacco factory worker, and a tailor’s apprentice while also (rarely) attending school. He preferred entertaining others with stories, sometimes performing them through ballet. 

At 14, Andersen moved to Copenhagen to pursue acting. He had a good soprano voice and was accepted into the Royal Danish Theatre, but his voice soon changed, and he was dismissed. A colleague told Hans he considered him a poet, which led him to focus on writing. His life changed when Jonas Collin, the director of the Royal Danish Theatre, sent him to a grammar school in Slagelse. Collin cared deeply for Hans and persuaded King Frederick VI to fund part of his education. By then, Hans had already published his first story, “The Ghost at Palnatoke’s Grave” (1822). 

His school years were difficult and bitter. At one school, he lived at his schoolmaster’s home and was abused, supposedly “to improve his character.” The faculty discouraged him from writing, causing him to fall into a depression. Despite this dark period, he was admitted to the University of Copenhagen in 1828, where he began to thrive. In 1829, he published “A Walk from Holmen’s Canal to the East Point of the Island of Amager in the Years 1828 and 1829,” his first success as an author. He tried playwriting but returned to storytelling after little success. 

On May 8, 1835, Andersen published “Tales Told for Children: Volume One,” including famous stories like “The Princess and the Pea” and “Little Ida’s Flowers.” Later that year, Volume Two was published, featuring “Thumbelina” and “The Naughty Boy.” Despite their success, Andersen faced criticism for his casual style and perceived immorality, as children’s literature was expected to educate rather than amuse. This delayed Volume Three until 1837, which included classics such as “The Little Mermaid” and “The Emperor’s New Clothes.” His collections broke new ground in style and content. His tales were not always optimistic; some were deeply pessimistic. His writing appealed to adults and children alike because he expressed feelings beyond a child’s understanding while capturing a child’s perspective uniquely. His fairy tales were relatable. 

Hans never married. He struggled with relationships throughout his life.  Early in life, his journals recorded his refusal to have sexual relations. Scholars agree that Hans was biromantic and possibly asexual. Hans was an avid writer of diaries, journals, and letters, many of which survive, offering insight into his mind and heart. He was a true romantic, yearning for love and affection beyond gender boundaries. 

He wrote letters to many men and women, showering them with adoration. Most of these men and women were unattainable. One great love and inspiration for one of Hans’ most famous works was the son of his patron, Jonas Collin. In letters to his beloved friend Edvard Collin (1835–1836), Hans wrote, “Our friendship is like ‘The Mysteries’, it should not be analyzed,” and “I long for you as if you were a beautiful Calabrian girl… No one have I wanted to thrash as much as you… but neither has anyone been loved so much by me as you.” 

Edvard Collin admitted that he could not return Hans’s feelings and, under family pressure, married in 1836. At the time of the wedding, Hans escaped to the island of Fyn. It was there that he wrote “The Story of the Little Mermaid.” Unlike the Disney adaptation, the Little Mermaid’s story is tragic. She experiences knife-like pain while walking on her new legs; she cannot speak to the prince to share her feelings, and the prince marries another woman. On their wedding night, the Little Mermaid is told that she can become a mermaid again if she stabs the prince and his new wife while they sleep. Instead of doing so, the Little Mermaid sacrifices herself, turning into sea foam and becoming a daughter of the air with an immortal soul. The story painfully reflects Hans’s emotions at the time of Collin’s wedding; she walks painfully beside the man she loves, unable to express her feelings, only to be rejected.

In early 1872, at the age of 67, Andersen fell from his bed and was severely injured, never fully recovering. Soon, signs of liver cancer appeared. Despite a difficult start, Andersen became a Danish national treasure by the time of his death. Before he died, he told his close friend and composer J.P.E. Hartmann about his funeral music, saying, “Most of the people who will walk after me will be children, so make the beat keep time with little steps.” He died on August 4, 1875, at 70, at the home of close friends.

Sources:

~ Laird Tove Elwyn (they/them)

June 16- Abu Bakr Muhammad ibn Ammár

Abu Bakr Muhammad ibn Ammár was born in Estombar, near Shilb (Silves) in 1031 CE. Of humble origin, he would become famous in his later years as a renowned poet. His talent with words gained him good teachers, but his early years as an itinerant poet were lived on the edge of poverty. From Shilb he traveled east to Qurtuba (Córdoba) and Ishbiliya in 1053, shortly after king Al-Mu’tadid had annexed smaller Berber groups under his rule. Ibn Ammár wrote an ode commemorating this event and presented it in a contest. The poem so pleased the king that, in addition to the monetary prize, he included Ibn Ammár in the roster of subsidized court poets, with living quarters in castle Dimasq. 

When Al-Mu’tadid’s son Al-Mu’tamid turned 13, his father gave him the title Emir to the city of Shilb, and appointed Ibn Ammár as the young prince’s vizier. Ibn Ammár was nine years the prince’s senior. They became intimate friends. They lived a carefree, artistic life amid their appointed tasks until 1058, when Al-Mu’tadid recalled his son and Ibn Ammár to Ishbiliya. The king had heard stories of the vizier’s influence over his son and wanted to keep a close eye on them. One year later, when he was 19, the prince Al-Mu’tamid was walking among his people in disguise along the banks of the Guadalquivir with his vizier. The river glittered in the late afternoon sun, and the prince was moved to start a poem: The wind has spun a coat-of-mail of water! This was a culture of poets. If one person started a line of verses, his or her companion was expected to finish the verse with another. He turned to hear Ibn Ammár’s reply, but a woman’s voice nearby answered: What a shield it would be for battle, if it stiffened! A young slave washing linens by the river happened to be within earshot. The prince liked what he saw as well as what he heard, whispered a command to a servant, and hurried back to the palace. The young woman was bought from a muleteer named Rumaik ibn Hajaj. Thus, Rumaikiyya became I’timad ar-Rumaikiyya, who became the wife of the future king. She bore him six sons and a few daughters; all but one of the sons would die in battle or be murdered in political upheavals, and all but one of the daughters would die in exile. 

King Al-Mu’tadid was taking no chances, however. Concerned with the possible inappropriate relationship with between his son and the vizier, the king banished Ibn Ammár from Ishbiliya. Ibn Ammár settled in the court of King Al-Muqtadir of Zaragoza. When Al-Mu’tadid died in 1069, one of the first acts of Al-Mu’tamid as king was to recall his friend from exile, bestow military honors and high political offices on him, including Governor of Shilb and Grand Vizier. He soon returned to Ishbiliya, however, because the king his friend missed him.

Al-Mu’tamid held a large swath of territory. To his east and south lay the kingdom of Granada, and these two kingdoms would engage in border wars. It was one of these military campaigns, however, that began the erosion of the 25 years of friendship between the king and his Grand Vizier. Ibn Ammár had let Al-Mu’tamid’s eldest son Abbad ibn Muhammad be captured, held hostage, and later murdered in Córdoba in 1075. The Grand Vizier became his own worst enemy the rest of the way. He was given permission to visit the newly acquired possession of Murcia in 1078, and he made his procession a triumphal entry, proclaiming himself Emir rather than the ambassador he was. Word came back to the king, and bitter poems were exchanged between them. Ibn Ammár fatally forgot his place, insulting the king’s ancestors, his wife, and his children, and blackmailing him with hints at their past: 

Greet in the West a nomad tribe who stopped
their camels there and gained some modest wealth:
Stop at Yawmín, the mother of cities, or
lie down to sleep and you may see it in vision,
so you could ask the dwellers as to the ashes,
not seeing any fire glowing on the spot:
You chose her from among a race that’s mongrel,
ar-Rumaikiyya—a mare, not worth a thread!
She brought forth a brood of shameless brats,
base on the two sides of the family tree:
Short-statured they are, but on their heads
they wear long horns of opprobrious shame!
Do you recall the days of our early youth,
when you resembled a crescent on the sky?
I would embrace your body that was fresh,
and from your lips I sipped pure water as well,
contenting myself, in loving you, short of haram,
when you did swear that what I did was halal!
I shall expose your ird as time goes on,
and by degrees tear up your secrets’ veil!

That letter sealed Ibn Ammár’s fate. His soldiers in Murcia were not paid. They threatened to hand him over to the king, so he fled the city in 1080 and wandered from one lesser court to another until the nobles of the house of Sohail made him a prisoner at the castle of Segura. Al-Mu’tamid bought the castle and the prisoner and had him brought back to Ishbiliya in 1084. Still, he hesitated to sign the death warrant, and Ibn Ammár took advantage of this by writing a long poem that so touched Al-Mu’tamid that he granted him an interview, excerpted here:

Your character—if you pardon—will be more noble and generous,
your excuse—if you punish—will be more than plain and clear:
And if between the two there be a distinction,
you will surely incline toward what is nearest to God!
Have mercy upon me in my submission to your verdict,
listen not to my foes, even if they repeat their slander!
What more can my foes add to what they say,
except that my guilt is evident and clearly proved?
Yes, I am guilty, but your clemency has qualities,
which make guilt lose its balance and vanish.
***
Judge me by the good will between us, leading
to the gate open toward God’s inspiration,
and wipe out the traces of the crime I committed:
Your mercy will efface and condone it!
Pay no attention to the talebearers’ sayings:
Every pot seethes over with what it contains!
***
Yes, Al-Mu’ayyad can smite with all his power,
but to Al-Mu’ayyad clemency is more becoming;
deep in my heart my love for him is an amulet,
which will help me even if death is about to strike!
Greetings to him, whichever way passion may turn him:
Toward me, and he’ll draw near; or against me, and he’ll turn away:
Let him, if I die, be consoled by oblivion, for
I am dying while my longing for him torments me.

Al-Mu’ayyad was a Syrian prince, the third son of an Abbasid caliph, a distant ancestor of the king. Comparing the king to his ancestor, appealing to his sense of clemency, generosity, and nobility, all those things could have saved Ibn Ammár, except that it came out that the former Grand Vizier was also attempting to poison Al-Mu’tamid’s son Al-Rasid against his father. Al-Mu’tamid did not even bother with an executioner. He fell into a rage, went to the man’s cell, and hacked Ibn Ammár to death by his own hand in 1086. After this, the king grieved bitterly. He had the corpse washed, wrapped properly in a shroud, prayers said over it, and buried near the wall of castle Mubarak.

Sources:

  • El Fahli, Mourad. Women’s Writing in Al-Andalus: The Pain and Pleasure of Words. Beau Bassin: Scholar’s Press, 2017.
  • Nykl, A.R. Hispano-Arabic Poetry and Its Relations with the Old Provençal Troubadours. Baltimore: J.H. Furst Co., 1946, reprint 1970.
  • Smith, Dulcie Lawrence, trans. The Poems of Mu’tamid, King of Seville. London: John Murray, Albemarle Street, W., 1915, University of Michigan Library reprint 2023.

The translations of Ibn Ammar’s poems were by A.R. Nykl. The translation of I’timad ar-Rumaikiyya’s verse was by Mourad El Fahli.

~ M. Ana de Guzman, OL

June 14- Benvenuto Cellini

Benvenuto Cellini may not have been the most prolific artist of the Renaissance period, but there are few memoirs more interesting or filled with self importance than his own. At 58 years old, he began to pen his story, adding in boasts and exaggerations that make it a compelling piece of entertainment. Despite his inflated ego, Cellini did lead an interesting and diverse life.

Born in Florence in the 1500s to a woodworking luthier, Cellini declined to follow in his father’s musical footsteps, instead becoming an apprentice to a goldsmith at the age of 15. Within a year, Cellini began to make a name for himself, not in metal working but by causing fights and starting violent scuffles with his friends. He wound up banished from the city, traveling around as an older teen and learning from an aqssortment of goldsmiths and sculptors.

By 19, he had moved to Rome, gaining the eye of Pope Clement VII and having several projects commissioned by His Holiness. Cellini resided in Rome until it was attacked in 1527 and, according to his own accounts, he helped defend the city, personally killing several important members of the opposition. These stories led to a reconciliation in Florence and he was welcomed back to his hometown, where he began crafting in earnest. Some of his most famous works were created there, including the medals Hercules and the Nemean Lion and Atlas Supporting the Sphere.

Cellini would flee Florence again, running away from the consequences of several fights ending in murders and death, later getting absolved by Pope Paul III. He was then imprisoned for allegedly embezzling the Pope’s gems and jewelry. He escaped, was recaptured, faced a death sentence, and was the target of a failed assassination. He was finally released through the work of Cardinal d’Este of Ferrara, for whom he made a beautiful cup in thanks.

Throughout his life he took both female art models and young male apprentices to bed, claiming the dominant position in seemingly all relations, presumably to help maintain his masculine self-image. These relations did not go unnoticed and he was brought up on charges of sodomy multiple times, both with men and women, and eventually he was sentenced to four years in prison for his behavior, which in the end was commuted to house arrest. 

During this time at home he made attempts at redeeming his reputation, devoting time to religious artworks. He married his servant Piera at the age of 62, then fathered several legitimate children with her. He also began his autobiography, which details the timeline of adventurous works. While he spends some time explaining the processes of his art, he also devotes space to his famous connections and making a bit of a mockery of repentance in between the boasts and self congratulating. In fact, in Chapter LXXI, he goes as far as defending the act of homosexual love making, after being called an “ugly sodomite.” 

Truly his autobiography is one of his great works, alongside sculptures like Perseus with the Head of Medusa, The Nymph of Fortainbleau, Cellini’s Cruficix at El Escorial Monastery and Gold Salt Cellar. With such history and word face behind his name, it is no wonder that Benvenuto Cellini was called one of the last great Renaissance artists. 

Sources:

~Lord Ragnall Cennétig (he/him)

June 13- Chevalier d’Eon

The Chevalier d’Éon, originally named Charles d’Eon de Beaumont, entered the world on October 5, 1728, hailing from a humble yet noble French lineage in the wine-producing region of Tonnerre, Burgundy. The accounts surrounding her biological sex are rife with contradictions, yet it appears she was born male and raised as a boy. Demonstrating exceptional prowess in both academics and military training, she achieved notable milestones by the age of 35, including becoming a lawyer, an accomplished writer, a renowned fencer, and receiving knighthood.

She began her career as a diplomat to Russia, but simultaneously took on a covert role within a spy network orchestrated by King Louis XV, known as the Secret du Roi or King’s Secret. This clandestine operation facilitated the king’s endeavors to promote policies that contradicted official governmental positions and treaties. One prominent example of d’Éon’s contributions to this espionage ring involved a mission to infiltrate the court of Empress Elizabeth of Russia, where d’Eon conspired with a pro-French faction against the Hapsburgs. During this phase of her life, while publicly presenting as a man, she adopted the disguise of a woman, the lady Lia de Beaumont, to successfully navigate English efforts to bar the French from entering Russia.

In Russia, d’Éon further defied gender norms while attending Elizabeth’s weekly “metamorphosis balls,” where women dressed as men and men as women. Empress Elizabeth showcased her commitment to her father’s legacy through these extravagant gatherings, embodying her authority by merging masculine and feminine traditions. 

d’Eon was sent back to France to serve as a Captain of Dragoons in the French army during the Seven Years’ War and was dispatched to London in 1762 to assist in negotiating the peace treaty that ended the conflict. For her service, she was awarded the Order of Saint-Louis in 1763, earning the title of chevalier (French for knight) and becoming the Chevalier d’Éon. After the war, she was sent back to was appointed as liaison to the English court with secret orders to scope out the coastline for a possible French invasion.

When the Comte de Guerchy was appointed as her replacement, d’Eon faced demotion to the position of secretary and was ordered to leave London, a command she refused, fearing it would jeopardize the imminent invasion plans of which her replacement was unaware. d’Eon asserted that only the King could dismiss her, bolstered by her conviction in her superiority for the role.

Upon hearing of d’Eon’s refusal to resign, the King retaliated by freezing her pension. In a desperate gamble, the Chevalier resorted to blackmail. When the King denied her assertions regarding her position, d’Éon published a book detailing state secrets she had accumulated throughout her espionage career. By strategically withholding some of the most incriminating information, she managed to maintain her standing and remain under Louis XV’s employment while publicly clashing with the French crown.

Following the book’s publication, d’Eon ascended to international fame in Britain, becoming a sensational figure admired for her audacious opposition to the French government. Londoners began to speculate on the Chevalier’s gender, with popular broadsheets depicting her as both man and woman; the London Stock Exchange even commenced betting on her gender. This situation provided a unique opportunity for a public gender transition, allowing her to assert that she had always been a woman masquerading as a man. At the age of 49, after England officially recognized her as female, d’Éon negotiated her return to France with the understanding that she would surrender the remaining documents from her spy days and commit to living as a woman from then on. Thus, she returned to Paris and, on November 21, 1777, was formally introduced at the court of Versailles as Mademoiselle la Chevalière d’Eon, rejuvenated after a four-hour transformation involving powdered hair and an elaborate gown crafted by none other than Marie Antoinette’s dressmaker.

In 1785, d’Eon returned to England, sustaining herself on the negotiated pension from the French government. However, the onset of the French Revolution marked the end of that pension, compelling her to sell her possessions to make ends meet. Ultimately, she passed away in poverty in London in 1810 at the age of 81, buried in the churchyard of St. Pancras Old Church. A post-mortem examination revealed that d’Éon possessed “male organs in every respect perfectly formed,” in addition to “breasts remarkably full.”

Sources:

~ Laird Tove Elwyn (they/them)

June 12- Frederick the Great

Doing his best to bring art, culture, prosperity, philosophy and education to his people, Frederick II earned himself the moniker “The Great.” While he was by no means faultless, Frederick did make a concerted effort to improve his state and secure a better life for his people than he himself experienced in his youth.

Frederick spent the first 6 years of his life with his mother, studying music, poetry, philosophy, and languages. He was described as effeminate, which was a great disappointment to his father, himself a religious and military fanatic who regularly found his son’s passion for art, French, and music worthy of casual physical abuse. At 7 years old Frederick’s father removed him from his mother’s schooling and subjected Frederick to a strict education consisting of military strategy and training as well as puritanical religious study, forbidding the arts and literature that Frederick truly loved. Every time the King found fault with the young prince, Frederick was ridiculed, humiliated, and often beaten. 

By the age of 16 Frederick learned to sneak around his fathers orders, amassing a secret library of some 3000 books and finding companionship with Peter Karl Christoph von Keith, a young page in the King’s employ. Whether the rumors of romantic exploration are true or simple court gossip, it was enough that the young page was banished to the far reaches of the country while Frederick was sent off to the King’s hunting lodge in order to learn more masculine traits. 

At 18 Frederick, fed up with his father’s strict rules, tried to run away to London with his close friend and suspected lover, Hans Hermann von Katte. Their plot was discovered, however, and since both men were in the military, they were tried and sentenced for treason; Katte was beheaded while Frederick was forced to watch, fainting just as the killing blow struck, unable to bear watching his companion be killed. Frederick was also stripped of his rank and all benefits as prince. It was not until he agreed to recommit to his father’s military and religious education, as well as a marriage to Elizabeth of Brunswick-Bevern, that Frederick regained his status.

Eventually the old King passed away, leaving Frederick in charge of the throne. The time spent in his father’s military training paid off, as Frederick proved himself to be an incredible strategist and tactician. His battles in the various wars Prussia was involved in resulted in a vast expansion of Prussia’s territory and a stronger, more unified country. He also began reintroducing culture and art to Prussia, restarting many of the programs his father had stripped away. He invested in music, philosophy, and art, wrote sonnets, music, and philosophical and military treatises, and filled his living quarters with homoerotic paintings and sculpture while developing many male friendships.

It is well documented that Frederick gathered around him many attractive military men and handsome pages, choosing to eschew the company of women altogether, instead gathering around him those with whom he most enjoyed companionship. This included another suspected lover, Michael Gabriel Fredersdorf, a man described as “the King’s darling at the time,” who was also employed as the King’s valet. While Frederick has not always been regarded as a gay man, a more open attitude about historical queerness has led to the reexamination of Frederick’s relationships and writings, and he is now generally accepted as having been a gay man. His contributions to his country, his general belief that a monarch should be a servant of the people who leads by example, and his prowess on the battlefield are just some of the reasons he is referred to as “The Great.”

Sources:

~Lord Ragnall Cennétig (he/him)

June 11- Aelred of Rievaulx

While a lot of historical queer research focuses on sexuality or presenting oneself outside of societally-expected gender norms, Aelred of Rievaulx reminds us that romantic feelings are enough to define our queerness, with or without any outward physical actions. Aelred was born in Yorkshire, England during the early 12th century. Likely educated at a cathedral school, Aelred entered the Scottish court of King David I at the age of 14, and was accused of sexual relations with another man in his youth while serving there. By 1134, he had given up court life in exchange for the monastic life, joining the Cistercian abbey of Rievaulx.

In his time as a monk, Aelred gained a reputation as a passionate scholar and writer. One of his more noted treatises was De Spirituali Amicita (“On Spiritual Friendship”) which expounds on the relationship between human love and spiritual love. In the prologue of that piece, Aelred writes about his time in school, when “the charm of [his] companions gave [him] the greatest pleasure.” He went on to say that “among the usual faults that often endanger youth, my mind surrendered wholly to affection and became devoted to love. Nothing seemed sweeter to me, nothing more pleasant, nothing more valuable than to be loved and to love.”

While modern scholars disagree about whether Aelred’s writings tell us anything about his sexual identity, former Yale history professor John Boswell saw Aelred’s writing about his friendships with men as an indicator of his homosexuality. In his book Christianity, Social Tolerance, and Homosexuality, Boswell states that “It was Saint Aelred of Rievaulx who gave love between those of the same gender its most profound and lasting expression in a Christian context…. There can be little question that Aelred was gay and that his erotic attraction to men was a dominant force in his life.” Aelred’s closest friends in the monastery were two men named Simon and Hugh. When Simon died unexpectedly at a young age, Aelred wrote that he felt “as if [his] body has been eviscerated” and his soul “rent to pieces.” In his book Mirror of Charity, he writes: “I grieve for my most beloved, for the one-in-heart with me who has been snatched from me.” While we have no proof that he ever had sexual relationships with these men, the depth of feeling cannot be denied.

After his death, Aelred was revered as a saint, particularly in northern England and among the Cistercians. Today, Aelred is thought of as a patron saint among certain circles of gay men, and those who read his work cannot help but be reminded that, no matter whether we are gay, straight, or asexual, love should be at the center of all we do.

Sources:

~Maistresse Mariette de Bretagne (she/her)

June 10- Caravaggio

Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio was born in Milan in 1571, where he spent the first five years of his life. He was the firstborn of Fermo Merisi and his second wife, Lucia Aratori. His family later relocated to the nearby town of Caravaggio, a name he would ultimately be associated with. Caravaggio was known to possess an unruly and fiery temperament, coupled with a profound sense of abandonment, which may have originated from losing most of the adult figures in his life to the bubonic plague by the age of six. In April 1584, at the age of twelve, Caravaggio became an apprentice to the Milanese fresco master Simone Peterzano. In his free time, he honed his skills in swordsmanship and became a proficient duelist. 

Following the wounding of a police officer, Caravaggio fled to Rome at the age of 21. There, he found work as an assistant to Giuseppe Cesari, painting decorative borders and flowers, which helped him develop a keen eye for detail and a fondness for the subtleties of still-life painting. It was during this period that Caravaggio evolved from a mere copyist to a figure admired by some of Rome’s most notorious patrons. It was also during this time that his paintings began to exhibit noticeable sexual overtones, offering insights that could hint at his sexuality.

The question of Caravaggio’s sexuality remains a subject of ongoing debate. Speculation has arisen regarding a homosexual relationship between the artist and Mario Minniti, with whom he lived for over five years. Minniti is believed to have been the model for several of Caravaggio’s paintings, such as “Boy with Fruit,” “Lute Player I,” “The Musician in Musicians,” and “Bacchus.” Due to his frequent troubles with the law, much of what is known about Caravaggio comes from his criminal records. He often escaped severe consequences, as his artistic talents afforded him a degree of immunity; his patrons provided him with enough privilege to help him evade punishment for serious crimes and often assisted him in fleeing from any prison or jail he encountered. There exists a lawsuit record from 1603, which alleges that Caravaggio shared a bardassa (a male who assumed a female role in social and sexual contexts) named Giovanni Battista with his friend Onorio Longhi.

Another piece of evidence suggesting that Caravaggio had homosexual experiences comes from a notebook of a British visitor to Rome in 1650, in which the traveler notes that the model for the painting “Victorious Cupid” was Caravaggio’s “…own boy or servant who laid with him.” Because there are very few documents that provide concrete facts about Caravaggio’s private life, this information relies largely on hearsay and personal perspectives. However, Caravaggio’s works serve as the most reliable sources from which to interpret his feelings, aspirations, and identity.

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~ Laird Tove Elwyn (they/them)

June 9- The Boxer Codex

One of the challenges queer individuals have faced over our long existence is a lack of voice. Part of this is the disturbing practice of othering, persecution, and harassment, while another is the breakdown of communication between language, custom, description, and depiction. This often happens with anthropological works such as the Boxer Codex. This late 16th century manuscript contains intensely detailed paintings of various ethno-groups of the Philippine Islands. It is an anonymous work, though the illustrator is believed to be a Chinese artist, and the descriptions written throughout are in both Spanish and Chinese. The main disconnect appears to be a lack of understanding regarding gendered language, something not present in many of the Philippine Island languages of the time, but which does exist rather prevalently in Spanish. Additionally, Spain’s patriarchal power structure and religious views are lenses which have contaminated portions of the Boxer Codex through application of dismissive language and imperialist views as they set their sights towards future conquest.

Despite its negative analytical rhetoric, the artistic representation in the Codex provides some of the earliest visual depictions of the indigenous peoples of the Philippine Islands and its Asian neighbors. The depictions include portrayals of Cagayans, Visayans, Tagalogs, Moros, and more, with special care taken to capture the details in dress and hairstyle of men and women of the various cultures without simply painting them all as “similar” through the eyes of the European “otherness.” Among this text we also find depictions of the Bayog or Bayoguin, people who dressed and presented as feminine priestesses but may have been of a different gender. It is unclear whether they were culturally women or if they were men who took on the garb and honorifics of the female priestesses in a cross dressing manner. This quote, translated from the codex, offers some insights into the Bayog: “Although these Indios have no temples, they have priests and priestesses, who are the principal masters of their ceremonies, rituals and omens, and to whom are entrusted all of their important affairs; they are well paid for their work. They are usually in women’s clothing. Their demeanors are so effeminate that those who do not know them would believe they are women.” Additionally, the Codex author referred to the Bayog as “impotent … thus they marry other males and sleep with them as man and wife.”

While there is debate as to the specifics regarding these religious leaders, their mention within articles of the Codex demonstrates the open existence of gender non-conforming people within cultures where they were not persecuted or forced into hiding, at least until colonial forces began to push the issue.

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~Lord Ragnall Cennétig (he/him)

June 8- Idet and Ruiu

While still up for debate, historians, Egyptologists, critics, and fans alike often disagree on whether homosexuality as we know it existed in ancient Egypt. An 18th Dynasty statue depicting two women named Idet and Ruiu is one of the items at the center of this dispute.

 Guy Curtois of the World History Encyclopedia identified the statue of the two women as “possibly mother and daughter, sisters, or a same-sex couple” (Curtois, 2021). Despite this equivocation, there still exist records of homosexuality that lend creedence to the interpretation of Idet and Ruiu as a lesbian couple. Moses ben Maimon (better known as Maimonides) was a Sephardic rabbi and prolific philosopher of the Middle Ages (1135/1138 – 1204) who lived and worked in both Morocco and Egypt as a rabbi, physician, and philosopher (Kramer, 2005; Nuland, 2008). His take on Egypt? He believed lesbianism and polyandry to be the “acts of Egypt,” while male-male homosexual relationships were typically attributed to Sodom, Gomorrah, and Amalek (Alpert, 1997). Rashi, an 11th-century CE French rabbi, was said to have described an “Egyptian practice for women to have multiple husbands” (Alpert, 1997).

Keeping these things in mind, one could also examine the deliberate seating arrangement of most, if not all, Egyptian statues and artwork. The right seat is typically reserved for those of higher importance and is considered a place of honor, while the left is of lesser prominence by rank. The inscriptions call Idet the “lady of the house” or ‘nebet per’ and states, “to Osiris… lord of eternity, that he may give… every good and pure thing, and the pleasant breeze of the north wind, to the ka (‘soul’) of the lady of the house Idet, justified” (Museo Egizio). The formula is repeated on the opposite side for Ruiu, but it contains several variations to the script, with no mention of a title.

What’s so interesting is how the two women are posed. This statue was found in a Theban necropolis and comes from the same dynasty as another statue featuring a woman named ‘Ruiu’ but where the former is of her and Idet, the latter depicts this Ruiu with her husband, Pashedu (World History Encyclopedia, 2017). Both feature the same pose with Ruiu on the left and her spouse on the right, with an arm around each other. That pose was used for married couples and could give more credence to the polyandry and lesbianism Rashi and Maimonides were talking about.

Sources:

~Lady Sága mac Cianain (she/they)

June 7- Francesco Calcagno

Francesco Calcagno (1528-1550) was an Italian friar affiliated with the Fransciscan order who became infamous for his radical views, and was ultimately executed by the Venetian Inquisition. Calcagno’s case stands out in the historical record for its intersection of blasphemy, heresy, and open expressions of homoeroticism, all factors that deeply unsettled both the religious and civic authorities of the time. According to Church records, Calcagno was accused of promoting and engaging in sodomy and of making many blasphemous claims, including denying the existence of God and the immortality of the soul (Tucker, 1997). During the investigation conducted by the Holy Office of the Venetian Inquisition, a witness testified that Calcagno slept with a different man almost every night. Among the most inflammatory claims recorded during his trial was his belief that Jesus Christ had maintained a homosexual relationship with St. John (Felici, 2024). 

Calcagno’s worldview was shaped by the libertine ideals that were circulating in radical intellectual circles of sixteenth-century Italy. Despite theological condemnation, particularly of sodomy, libertine ideas flourished in cities like Rome and Venice, where intellectual circles promoted freethinking and homoerotic discourse. Influenced by figures like Lauro di Gilsenti da Vestone, a notable atheist of his time, Calcagno espoused a materialist and skeptical perspective that rejected religious orthodoxy. Gilsenti reportedly claimed that “he did not believe in anything except what was seen,” a statement reflective of the broader libertine tendency to prioritize empirical reality over religious dogma (Dall’Orto, 2004). Through Gilsenti was also how Calcagno became engaged with provocative literature, including La Cazzarìa, a text rich in erotic and anti-clerical content by Antonio Vignali, which further shaped Calcagno’s unorthodox beliefs (Dall’Orto, 2004). 

The implications of Calcagno’s beliefs were profound. His case underscored the perceived threat posed by sodomy and libertinism to early modern state and ecclesiastical order. Homosexual acts, when coupled with overt theological heresy, were seen not merely as sins but as subversions of the divine and civic hierarchies that underpinned society. As Giovanni Dall’Orto (2004) notes, the history of sodomy has often been framed by authorities as a destabilizing force that undermines the natural, religious, and political structures central to social cohesion. In this sense, Calcagno’s execution was not just a punishment for personal behavior, but a public reaffirmation of ideological and moral boundaries in Counter-Reformation Italy. His tragic fate reveals both the rigidity of the institutional orthodoxy and the radical potential of early modern dissent.

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~Aisha bint Allan (they/ them)

June 6- Leendert Hasenbosch

Forcing isolation upon others has always been a tool of the oppressors to ensure no voices could band together and freely rise up, and in the case of Leendert Hasenbosch this was not just some psychological or metaphorical isolation, he was left, truly alone and abandoned.

Leendert Hasenbosch, a Holland native, was born around 1695, and grew up with his sisters under the care of his father until they moved away, around the time Leendert would have been a young teen. In 1714 at 19 years old he struck out as a soldier with the Vereenigde Oostindische Compagnie, VOC (Dutch East India Company). He served in Batavia, modern day Indonesia for a year, before moving on with the VOC to India where he served until 1720. He returned to Batavia having been promoted to Corporal and by 1724 he had become a book keeper and naval military writer for a different ship, which would prove to be his last command. In 1725 he was accused of intimate relations with another man, tortured for a confession and, finally relenting to his accusers and confessing, was punished by way of marooning on Ascension Island, an uninhabited place in the southern Atlantic. 

He was left upon the volcanic island with precious little in the way of supplies: a small tent canvas, two buckets, a frying pan, some rice and seeds, a cask of water, an empty musket, and materials with which to write. His journal entries begin on May 5th, describing his situation, his provisions, and his faith in his god for protection. His journal ends with precious few words describing his last days, from October 9-14th, stating simply “I liv’d as before.” 

In January the following year, his journal and the accountings of his time on the island were found by the members of an East India Company ship named Compton. Neither his skeleton nor any proof of his demise were found in the search of his camp and the island, though it is believed, based on his own writings, that he succumbed to dehydration, hallucinations, and lack of adequate sustenance. His journal was published as Sodomy Punish’d and within his writings we see his attempts at finding food, regular sources for hydration, his faith in rescue or relief from rain, and his psychological spiral; his writing wavered between begging forgiveness, expressing extreme bouts of loneliness (which he attempted to assuage through keeping a pet bird,) and hinting at an eventual mental break which resulted in his talking to dead turtles and hallucinating old paramours. 

The story of his unjust punishments and the brutality with which he was handled for the sake of his sexuality is a heart wrenching tale. His journal is a grave reminder of what hatred and bigotry can result in, especially when isolated, alone, and unsupported. The document is an important read, and we would do well to meditate on its message, if only to remind us to seek fellowship and remember that we stand stronger together.

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~Lord Ragnall Cennétig (he/him)

June 5- Isaac Newton

Isaac Newton is one of the most highly regarded scientists in history, often regarded as a father of modern science. His theory of gravity and laws of motion are a staple in any scientific education, but his personal life is not well documented, which can be attributed to his very private and secretive nature. There are many theories that Newton was either bisexual or homosexual, and he is said to have boasted on his deathbed that he never touched a woman. However, as the visibility and acceptance of asexuality increases, the theories about his actions and love life (or lack thereof) have started to change our understanding of Newton’s life.

Isaac Newton’s beginnings are not uncommon for the time. Newton’s father died about three months before his birth. His mother remarried Barnabas Smith before he was three and he was sent to live with his grandmother. After his stepfather’s death, Newton’s mother was hopeful that he would learn to manage the family estate. He was enrolled at King’s School, Grantham in 1654. In 1658, he stopped attending school to manage the estate. All records we have point to Newton being incompetent and neglectful, so much so that his mother was convinced to return him to school. He began his attendance of Trinity College in 1661, supporting himself as a tutor or servant for higher class fellow students and a small money lending business.

In 1663, he became friends with his roommate, John Wickins. The two would live together for the next 20 years. We know very little about Wickins and his relationship with Newton. However, one source, a note written by Wickins’ son in 1728, described that the intimacy between the two ‘came by mere accident.’ The note goes on to describe an argument between Newton and Wickins, which resulted in Newton pouting and them both agreeing to set aside the argument. Newton and Wickins parted ways in 1683 and there is no evidence that they ever had contact with one another again.

In 1687, Newton met Nicholas Fatio Duillier, a Swiss mathematician and another member of the Royal Society. For the next four years the two shared a close intellectual and personal relationship, which is well documented in what many refer to as love letters. There is no evidence that their relationship was ever physical but the amount of affection they held for each other is undoubted. Fatio was also instrumental in defending Newton’s development of calculus against fellow mathematician Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz. Around 1692, the relationship between Newton and Fatio ended abruptly with the two never resuming contact. Newton suffered an emotional breakdown around the same time, which has been attributed to a variety of causes: the end of his relationship with Fatio, a friend trying to set him up with a woman, depression, and mercury poisoning.

Though we will never know for sure about Isaac Newton’s sexuality, or if he would consider himself homosexual or asexual in the language we use today, it is obvious that he prided himself on three things: his dedication to his work, his development of calculus, and the fact that he never touched a woman.

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~Lady Bak Nabiya (she/her)

June 4- Felipa de Souza

Born in the city of Tavira, Portugal, in 1556, Felipa de Souza is remembered as one of the earliest known LGBTQ+ individuals in Brazil. While not officially the first, Felipa embodied a bold spirit of defiance, living her best life in the face of adversity. A woman of some status and previously married to a weaver of fine silks until her husband’s death, she enjoyed certain privileges—being well-read, educated in writing, and possessing refined etiquette. She was considered a distant “New Christian” of Hebrew descent, as her family had previously encountered the Church of Rome when it coerced its religion upon the previously unconverted population in 1496 through inquisition-pushed efforts.

Felipa later moved to Salvador, in what was then the captaincy and is now the state of Bahia, where she made a living as a seamstress for women of high society. Through these connections, she found the freedom to live without a husband or children, engaging in romantic relationships with women she met through her work. While records reveal she had six lovers during her short 35 years, it is believed the actual number may have been closer to forty. Felipa was known as a prolific seductress who lived authentically, largely unbothered by the colonial authorities or the Inquisition—at least for a time—in the culturally diverse city of Salvador. A hopeless romantic, she once expressed that she felt “great love and carnal affection” so deeply that it overcame her inhibitions, and that simply seeing a beautiful woman was enough to stir strong attraction.

Her recorded affairs began with Maria Peralta in 1583, another “New Christian” in Salvador, who Felipa continued to visit even after Maria married a man from the neighboring captaincy of Pernambuco. Felipa also admitted to other brief relationships, including with several married women such as Maria Lourenço, Paula Antunes, and Paula de Sequeira, the wife of a bookkeeper.

Felipa earned a reputation as a womanizer, yet faced little interference from the Church or colonial authorities until the arrival of the Inquisition. Her relationship with Paula de Sequeira appears to have lasted nearly three years, during which they exchanged amorous letters and gifts. Despite their closeness, Paula ultimately confessed their involvement to inquisitor Heitor Furtado de Mendonça. It remains unclear why Paula turned Felipa in, or whether the information was volunteered or extracted. It is also uncertain whether Felipa had been open about seeing other women during their relationship. Some speculate the exposure may have stemmed from jealousy, frustration, or betrayal. Paula was not the only one to denounce Felipa; others, hoping for mercy and forgiveness, claimed they were unaware their actions were sinful and confessed their involvement.

In the end, Felipa was summoned before the Inquisition on December 28, 1591, to confess. She bravely shared her reasons, fully admitting to her actions and offering detailed testimony—living openly as a proud lesbian and loving without fear. Remarkably, she was spared execution, a fate that had befallen others for living their truths. Instead, she was sentenced to “physical punishments,” which included lashings, banishment, and fasting as penance, along with a fine of 992 réis. She was also banished from the captaincy of Bahia.

Together this Pride month, we look to Felipa de Souza for inspiration on what it means to live true to yourself, without fear of loving who you love and to bravely face those who would tell us to closet ourselves – no matter your identity.

Sources:

  • de Jesus, Iara Silva. “Mulheres sodomitas nas visitações do Santo Ofício na Bahia.” Dissertação (Mestrado acadêmico – PPGHIST) Universidade do Estado da Bahia. Departamento de Ciências Humanas. Programa de Pós-Graduação em História Regional e Local – ( PPGHIST), Campus V. 2022. https://ppghis.uneb.br/wp-content/uploads/2024/09/Iara-Silva-de-Jesus.pdf
  • Guimarães, Anderson Fontes Passos. ““Uma lésbica é uma mulher?”: vozes e silêncios.” Dissertação (mestrado) – Universidade Federal da Bahia, Faculdade de Filosofia e Ciências Humanas, 2013. https://repositorio.ufba.br/bitstream/ri/14306/1/Anderson.pdf
  • Mott, Luiz. “Sodomia Faeminarum: Inquisition and the Manumission of Lesbianism in the Portuguese World, 1646.” Pol. Hist. Soc., Vitória da Conquista, v. 20, n. 1, p. 45-66, Jan.-Jun. 2021. https://app-testes-periodicos.uesb.br/politeia/article/view/8999/6099
  • Santos, Shirley Romera dos. “A educação sexual no Brasil colônia prescrita nos Regimentos do Santo Ofício da Inquisição Portuguesa (1552-1774).” Dissertação (mestrado) – Universidade Estadual Paulista Júlio de Mesquita Filho, Faculdade de Ciencias e Letras (Campus de Araraquara), 2014. http://hdl.handle.net/11449/115934
  • Viega, Edison. “Quem foi Felipa de Sousa, processada por lesbianismo pela Inquisição e hoje ícone do movimento LGBT. BBC News Brasil, 27 June 2020, https://www.bbc.com/portuguese/geral-53190229

~Lady Luiza Vincente (she/they)

June 3- The Leveret Spirit

The tale of the Leveret Spirit, or Rabbit God, as recounted in Yuan Mei’s Zibuyu, offers a compelling window into the complexities of gender, sexualtiy, and religious expression in Qing Dynasty China. First published in 1788, Zibuyu (“What the Master Does Not Speak Of”) is a collection of 747 short supernatural stories that explore various dimensions of life, including ghosts, sex, betrayal, revenge, and corruption. The work was later censored by the Qing government in 1836 due to its controversial and unorthodox content (Szonyi, 1998). The Qing Dynasty, which spanned 1644 to 1912, was the last imperial dynasty of China and upheld strict Confucian moral codes, particularly regarding gender roles and sexuality. One of the most provocative stories in Zibuyu is that of Hu Tianbao, a provincial official who falls in love with another man and is punished with death after spying on him. Hu returns from the grave in the form of a leveret, a young hare, in the dream of a village elder. In the dream, he demands that a temple be erected in his honor for the purpose of aiding men in “affairs of men” (Szonyi, 1998). 

The story inspired the rise of a popular cult in Fujian province, particularly in the city of Fuzhou, where Hu Tianbai was worshipped as a divine intermediary for men who desired romantic or sexual relationships with other men. The Qing authorities, wary of any deviation from the prescribed norms, attempted to suppress the cult, which they viewed as immoral and subversive. The primary evidence for the cult’s existence comes not from its worshippers, but from state officials such as Zhu Gui, who described the cult’s iconography as featuring “two men embracing one another; the face of one is somewhat hoary with age, the other tender and pale” (Szonyi, 1998). Worshippers were said to pray for assistance in pursuing young men and offered thanks by smearing pork intestine and sugar on the idol’s mouth (Szonyi, 1998). 

Although Hu Tianbao came to be known as the Rabbit God, this moniker is likely a result of later slang in which homosexual men were called “rabbits” in Chinese culture (Jie, 2008). Szonyi (1998) argues that the image of the rabbit deity was a poetic invention by Yuan Mei, as there are no other sources from the region that predate his account. It is also important to not confuse Hu with Tu’er Ye, the moon rabbit of traditional Chinese mythology. Despite this fictionalized origin, the cult of Hu Tianbao was historically real and widely documented, proving that religious movements can thrive even when built on new mythologies, especially when they serve the needs of marginalized communities. 

Sources:

  • Hu, N. (Trans.). (n.d.). Tu Er Shen (Rabbit God) by Yuan Mei: A translation of Tu Er Shen story from Zibuyu. Scribd. https://www.scribd.com/document/232222865/6679-the-Rabbit-God
  • Szonyi, M. (1998). The cult of Hu Tianbao and the eighteenth-century discourse of homosexuality. Late Imperial China, 19(1), 1–25. https://doi.org/10.1353/late.1998.0004
  • Zhang, J. (2008). Investigation into depictions of homosexuality in pre-modern China (p. 228). Yunan Renmin Chubanshe.

~Aisha bint Allan (they/ them)

June 2- Pepi II Neferkare

During the Sixth Dynasty of Egypt, sometime in the 2200s BC, a six year old boy was crowned as the next Pharaoh. His name was Pepi II Neferkare, a name meaning “Beautiful is the Ka of Re” (or, beautiful is the life essence/soul of the sun god Re). Guided by his mother Ankhesenpepi II and her brother Djau, a vizier under the previous Pharaoh, Pepi II Neferkare is considered the last significant ruler of the Old Kingdom. He ruled an estimated 60 years, though some speculation puts his reign as long as 90 years.

With multiple wives and consorts, it would be easy to conclude his heteronormativity, but Pepi II Neferkare holds a rather special place in ancient Egyptian literature which might contradict such a notion. The story “King Neferkare and General Sasenet” is one with heavy suggestions of homoeroticism. While the story is incomplete, portions of it are found to be repeated in several places of archeological discovery. The story tells the of a voyeur named Tjeti son of Hentu, watching the Pharaoh as he ventures to the house of one of his generals, a man stated to have no wife or woman in his house, in the darkest hours of night, to do “what he desired with him.” A portion of the story is relayed here: 

“[…] Then [he (i.e.,Tjeti the son of Hentu) saw] the Majesty of the King of Upper and Lower Egypt Neferkare going out at night all alone, with nobody with him.

Then he moved away from him so as not to be seen by him. Tjeti son of Hentu stood still, being concerned and saying: “Obviously it is true what people say, that he goes out at night!” Tjeti son of Hentu followed this god closely, without letting his heart restrain him, in order to see everything that he was going to do. He (the King) arrived at the house of the general Sasenet. Then he threw a brick and stamped with his foot, so that a [ladder (?)] was lowered to him. He climbed up, while Tjeti son of Hentu stood waiting till His Majesty would return. After His Majesty had done what he desired with him, he returned to his palace and Tjeti followed him. When His Majesty had returned to the palace (I.p.h.), Tjeti went home. Now His Majesty went to the house of the general Sasenet in the course of the fourth hour of the night, he spent the next four hours in the house of the general Sasenet, and he entered the Palace when four hours remained till dawn. And Tjeti son of Hentu followed His [Majesty] every night without letting his heart restrain him, and (each time) after [His] Majesty had entered [the house of the general Sasenet (?)/the Palace (?), Tjeti…].”

It is normal to find symbolism and allegory in Egyptian art and literature, and some speculation has been given to the time table mentioned within the tale. The fourth hour of the night he went calling, followed by four hours “spent” with his general, after which there are still 4 hours before dawn. The time when Pepi II Neferkare spends with his general is a period of the night which the Egyptians refer to as “profound darkness” and it is mentioned that the visitations repeat nightly. This journey reflects the journey of the sun god Re during the most crucial part of his resurrection journey in the underworld: during the fourth hour of his journey, Re finds Osiris laying motionless and seemingly dead, and the two gods unite, becoming one god. “Re has come to rest in Osiris and Osiris has come to rest in Re.” Following this union Re is reborn after the period of “profound darkness” and continues his journey to bring the dawn. This unification is the main object of worship in the Litany of Re, known as “Book of Adoring Re in the West and of Adoring the United One.” While it is never explicitly described in sexual terms, the texts do mention that the gods “embrace each other” and Re becomes one with Osiris. 

The story of King Neferkare and General Sasenet closely mimics the story of Re and Osiris, both alluding to homosexual acts. Like so much ancient Egyptian literature, the story remains incomplete, its ending lost to time and erosion. However, it is clear that men loving one another was not an unknown concept to the ancient Egyptians, their monarchs, or their gods.  

Sources:

~Lord Ragnall Cennétig (he/him)

June 1- Here we are again

On May 6, 1933, a Nazi youth group attacked the Institut fur Sexualwissenschaft (Institute for Sexual Science) in Berlin. The institute was created by Magnus Hirschfeld, the founder of Wissebschaftlich-humanitares Komitee (Scientific Humanitarian Committee,) a group believed to be the first homosexual organization of the modern age, one that campaigned for queer rights and tolerance during the Weimar interwar era in Germany. The institute opened in 1919 and housed a library devoted to research on gender, same-sex love, and eroticism. During the attack on the building, much of the contents of the collection were destroyed. Four days later, the items that had somehow avoided destruction during the first attack by the students were dragged into the street and publicly burnt by members of the SA in coordination with the youth group.

The loss of the institute’s library represented a significant setback to research on sexuality of all kinds, but especially research around intersexuality and same sex love. There are anecdotes about bits and pieces from the collection surviving, but few materials have actually been accounted for. Despite stipulations in the institute’s charter and Hirschfeld’s will about the distribution of assets to the Humboldt University of Berlin and several of his students, these requests were never carried out: the West German legal system found that the Nazi seizures were legal, and the students, being gay men, were not able to claim recompense for the destroyed property.

The destruction of the Institut fur Sexualwissenschaft is one of many entries in the list of attempts to erase queer stories from history. No matter how many books or buildings are burnt, though, the queer community resurfaces, reestablishes, and reminds the world of its existence as a part of the human experience. Setbacks happen in every generation, but we continue to move forward and hold tighter to that which we have learned.

This year, as we honor Pride month in the East Kingdom, as we honor all people in the queer community past and present, we will again be posting the stories of queer figures from the SCA period and beyond every day this month. Easterners will be sharing their research on people from the queer community across a wide range of times, places, and circumstances, providing us with a daily reminder: They were here, they lived, and they deserve to be remembered, and this office will continue to preserve their stories for posterity.

~Maistresse Mariette de Bretagne (she/her)
Deputy Minister of Arts & Sciences for Education
Chief of Staff to Their Majesties Ryouko’jin and Indrakshi

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