Happy Pride Month!
For many countries around the world (namely Western ones), June is Pride month—a month of recognition, and in the recent decades a celebration, of the rights and equality of all members of the LGBTQ+ community. It is no revelation that to many, literature is a form of escape from reality. And in the case of the LGBTQ+ community, it has similarly been turned to as a source of validation. Literature featuring homosexual characters is not as new as some may think, with evidence of same-sex relationships being hinted at, or even described, in as early as the ancient Greeks. Nevertheless, a strong argument can be made that the models of romance and intimacy that are represented in many contemporary novels follow a rather limited field of experience; namely that of heteronormativity (i.e. opposite sex relationships that do not fall outside the traditional expectations of marriage and the nuclear family).
It is for this reason that any book/movie/tv show we talk about this month will feature representations of LGBTQ+ individuals. And to start off this month, I will be looking at the fantasy novel, Seeds of Dissolution by William C. Tracy. We were approached by Tracy a few months back requesting an honest review for the novel and we were very excited by the premise that we were eager to take it on.
At four hundred pages, Seeds of Dissolution is a mammoth of a book, containing elements both so traditional and distinct to the fantasy genre. The novel follows anxiety-ridden Sam as his world disappears in ice and cold, and he discovers a universe of ruled by the magic of music and alien species he never could have imagined, and must learn to navigate.
At the core of so many fantasy novels, the formula of a journey of self-discovery after losing one’s home is often accompanied by roguishly handsome and confident male protagonist. Sam van Oen is nothing of the sort, and it is one of the most compelling parts of the novel. While crafting an intricate world of non-traditional fantasy species (there’s not an orc or an elf in sight), Tracy has similarly managed to include non-heteronormative characters, where the main character is not only bisexual, but throughout the novel, openly polyamorous.
And even more refreshing to see is that Tracy is able to steer away from the formula of stereotypical representations of queer characters. Sam faces no mental anguish for his sexual and romantic preferences and does not question his decisions. Aside from the romantic plot line it provides the story, it is highly unnotable. Which consequently makes it incredibly notable.
Tracy takes it one step further by similarly breaking the gender binary and representing a spectrum of genders. The real draw to the novel for me was just how fresh and new so much of the fantasy (and a times science-fiction) elements were, giving a wide berth to the overplayed formulas. Not only did it make for a very addictive read, but similarly gave the impression of a distinct attempt on the part of the author to use his novel as a means of original and necessary representation. A kind of representation that can very easily be lacking in contemporary literature, but just as easily be minimally engaged with as if to target a buzzword.
Though the focus of the novel is not solely around the gender or sexual aspects, in fact the majority of the tale is told in a way that has very little to do with it at all, the social consciousness of Tracy as an author is nevertheless evident. And it is the reason that I picked it as the starting book for Pride Month.
A question that is frequently asked within the literary circle is whether or not authors and writers have a social responsibility to adhere to within their works. Many would argue that literature and fiction is an art and therefore the only responsibility the creators have is to their works. Others would say that literature is a part of the world and hence is responsible for what it puts out into the world. Whatever your situation, in my opinion the most dangerous place for the writer to occupy is that of apathy—to not have an opinion at all. That is not Seeds of Dissolution.
Diversity was written into the novel as commonplace and as such never felt awkward, out of place, or intended as tokenism. It is a testament to the writing that Tracy is able to create a complex magical universe(s) as well as honest and vulnerable representations of diverse characters. Even the writing style crosses boundaries of science fiction and fantasy that promise to entertain. Be sure to give this one a go!
If you’re interested in knowing more about the author, you can follow him on GoodReads here: William C. Tracy
~S~
