One hundred and thirty years ago today, Radclyffe Hall was born in Bournemouth, England. The author of eight novels and seven volumes of poetry is best known for The Well of Loneliness, her 1928 novel about a butch lesbian, Stephen Gordon. Although the book’s handling of lesbianism seems archaic at times (calling it “sexual inversion”), it was for many years one of the few books that dealt in a sympathetic way with LGBT characters. Its history indicates both how things have changed — and how they haven’t — over the last century.
Although The Well described nothing more salacious than a kiss “full on the lips,” the book faced obscenity trials in both the U.K. and the U.S. In the U.K., among those pushing for the book to be banned were Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin and Chancellor Winston Churchill. They were successful, and the court ordered that all copies of the book be destroyed. In the U.S., copies were confiscated and charges brought against the publisher, but a New York court eventually allowed publication.
Although it is unlikely that a judge today would order the destruction of all copies of a book, LGBT-themed books still face challenge and censorship. Some come under fire for being sexually graphic, but others are attacked simply for including a character who has two moms, even if they play little part in the book.
The U.K. trial of The Well also shows that the search for “scientific” evidence to support anti-LGBT measures has a long history. Sir Archibald Bodkin, Director of Public Prosecutions, said to one doctor, according to the Guardian, “I want to be able to call some gentleman of undoubted knowledge, experience and position who could inform the court of the results to those unfortunate women (as I deem them) who have proclivities towards lesbianism, or those wicked women (as I deem them) who voluntarily indulge in these practices — results destructive morally, physically and even perhaps mentally.”
Physician Sir William Henry Willcox obliged, writing, “[Lesbianism] is well known to have a debasing effect on those practising it, which is mental, moral and physical in character. It leads to gross mental illness, nervous instability, and in some cases to suicide in addicts to this vice. It is a vice which, if widespread, becomes a danger to the well-being of a nation …”
We’ve seen the same recently in the Proposition 8 case and in a case on whether to overturn the law against adoption by determining whether a gay man in Florida can adopt the boys he and his partner have been fostering for many years. The anti-LGBT side tried to marshal medical and sociological experts to support their cases and claim a danger to families and our national well-being.
Their lack of success, however, indicates that some things may indeed have changed since the 1920s. The “experts” ended up either supporting the positions they were supposed to oppose, or being thoroughly discredited by the judges. George Rekers, who testified in the Florida case, additionally found himself hoisted on his own . . . umm . . . luggage . . . when he was found traveling with a young man whom he had met through the Web site Rentboy.com and hired, he said, to carry his bags.
LGBT books will continue to face challenges in the foreseeable future. Even if LGBT people gain legal equality, there will no doubt be people who continue to believe LGBT topics (“graphic” or not) are inappropriate for public libraries and schools. But it is also notable that on Hall’s birthday, the LGBT community heard that a stay in the Prop 8 case was denied and same-sex couples should soon be able to marry in California. The future is looking bright — but that is all the more reason to reflect on and learn from the past.
