27/12/2022
Two Stories related to the topic of Gender Fluidity
Here is the first:
When working at a high end restaurant in the late 1990s or early 2000s, I met and worked with a gay man of Chinese descent. He was very camp and effeminate in his demeanour and in no way suppressed or hid his nature. One night while having a drink after work, he told me about himself. He was the youngest of 9 children. All were girls except himself. The reason his parents had so many kids is that his father, being very traditional, was adamant that he wanted a male heir. So when girl child after girl child came out, the parents kept going until they finally got a boy child. To the father’s disappointment, his son, as said, was very effeminate from the start and he turned out to be homos*xual.
It occurred to me back then that my workmate may have been meant to be born female— his soul was to incarnate into a female form—but the stubborn desire of his father thwarted nature and finally achieved a male child. This was like a kind of astral/psychological violence and violation. My workmate’s response to this idea was just that it is interesting but fanciful.
The second story comes from the alleged diary of an upperclass English boy of about 8 or 10 years old in the Elizabethan era. The book begins January 1, 1885, and goes until October 1887.
These entries were published in 1953 as a book called The Boy Who Saw True, after the anonymous author had died (in accordance with his stipulations). The boy had second sight, meaning he could see auras and spirits and so on. It claims to be factual but of course that doesn’t mean it is. The introduction, afterword and extensive notes are written by English composer Cyril Scott; the diary was brought to him because of his public reputation and known interest in the occult.
Here are two entries, amended slightly by me to stay on topic:
May 25
A rum old party named Miss Salt—what a funny name—is staying here. She has short hair like what Papa calls a rat’s back, and talks in a manny voice and has an old gentleman inside her. ( viz. inside her aura.) I thought this rather funny [strange] so while we were sitting in the drawing-room before tea with Cousin Agnes, I said, “Why have you got an old gentleman sticking to you?” Then she jumped, and said, “God bless my soul! What does the little boy mean?” And Cousin Agnes went all red as if I’d said something rude, and sort of laughed. (With embarrassment.) And so I thought I’d better tell Miss Salt that the old gentleman had funny clothes a bit like those pictures of Mr Pickwick, but he wasn’t near so jolly-looking and had a nasty red mark (a scar) on his cheek. “Good Gracious!” she cried. “Why that was Mr.——“ and she said a name I can’t remember. Then she looked uncomfy and stared at me like as if she was going to say something but thought after all she wouldn’t, and uttered some’ut about washing her paws for tea, and left the room. When she had gone, Cousin Agnes asked me, “Whatever made you say that to that lady? I think she is very hurt. Besides, it was such a strange thing to say. I don’t know what people will think if you say things like that.” So I said, “Well, it was true, so why shouldn’t I?” “Because I’m afraid you’ll be getting yourself into trouble one of these fine days,” she said. But she wasn’t very cross, so I didn’t mind. […]
May 26
While i was watching William, the nice gardener who says everything is rum, Miss Salt came by, and said she was just going to take a little walk to the sea, and would I like to come with her. So I had to say yes so as not to be rude. When we got to the seashore we sat down on the lovely hot sand, and she said, “Tell me, how did you know that about the old gentleman?” So I said I could see his face in her lights. Then she asked me, what did I mean by her lights, which surprised me very much, because the old lady is not blind, and doesn’t wear spectacles. So she said “Why, the colours? I’ve never heard of that.” So I reckoned this was very rum, and told her she must be short-sighted. But she said she wasn’t, and I thought that so q***r I said to myself, “Dear me, what is the matter with everybody?” Then I said, “You were very poorly once, weren’t you? And she said “Yes; how do you know that?” So I said, “I don’t know, but I do know (somehow). And I know that once upon a time you had a sweetheart you was going to marry but he had to go somewhere first a very long way off, and he got hurt, and didn’t come back again.” And that seemed to make her jump, and she said, “I’ll tell you what, little boy?” And I said “Yes Miss Salt?” And she said, “Upon my word, I believe you’ve got second sight.” But as I didn’t see what she meant she said that people had second sight what knew things without being told. Then I said, “Excuse me, Miss Salt” — and I’d have liked to call her Miss Pepper for fun—“But I reckon you are wrong, ‘cause there are a fine lot of things I don’t know, and have to ask papa or Miss Griffin. I had to ask her what is a circumcision and what it means to covet your neighbour’s ox or his ass, and a lot of other things out of scripture.” And that seemed to make Miss Salt laugh, and she said, “Oh I don’t mean those sort of things, I mean things that have happened like me being so poorly.” Then she took out of her satchel a funny old photograph, and said, “Do you know who that is?” So I said, “Why that’s the old gentleman.” And she said, “Quite right.” And after that she gave me sixpence to buy some lollipops, and thought we must be getting back now, as cousin Agnes might be wondering what had become of me. And that was the end of that.
(From pages 42 to 45, fifteenth edition 2005, Published by Rider.)
