Reading
the Delirium books (only the first of
which I’ve reviewed so far – I’m slacking,) I can’t help being struck by the
way the central premise, love as a sickness that needs to be cured, relates to
some views of homosexuality. I don’t
know how intentional this was, but to me, it’s awfully pronounced.
Going
into the series, I was in no way
expecting it to remind me of But I’m a
Cheerleader, but it did, kind of.
The entire conceit reminds me quite a bit of reparative therapy and the
“ex-gay” movement, the idea that Lena and every other young person is taught
from a very young age that they have something “wrong” inside of them.
For as
long as she can remember, Lena has been warned about the dangers of amor deliria nervosa. She’s been trained to be on guard for signs
of it in her own life. It’s somehow a sin
and a disease simultaneously. She’s
taught to avoid boys, to run from potential temptation, and to be ashamed and
afraid of any stirrings of feelings she might have. Her teachers, her doctors, and her religious
leaders tell her to just be strong, to keep fighting the good fight against
herself, until she turns 18 and can be cured of the deliria. Then she can be
whole, normal, pure.
I’m not
alone, right? Huge reparative therapy
parallels! There’s the fact that no
denies that these teenagers may experience love and attraction – despite the
secretive and shameful air that surrounds the deliria, there seems to be a fairly high incidence of “symptoms,”
“infection,” or just on-the-D.L. experimentation. No, no one’s saying that love doesn’t happen;
instead, they fully acknowledge its existence but claim that it can be ground
down and held back until the kids are old enough that it can be excised
altogether. This is much the same as
supporters of reparative therapy maintaining that innate sexual orientation can
be suppressed/changed through willpower, self-discipline, and/or some type of
medical intervention (fortunately, there isn’t an established surgical
procedure to “eliminate” same-sex attraction, but throughout history, a number
of people have been seriously hurt by society’s attempt to find a medical
“treatment” – chemical castration, anyone?)
Another
aspect that feels familiar is the fact that the people endorsing this practice
have already been through it themselves.
Like Mike on But I’m a Cheerleader,
the adults in Lena’s life are passing on the legacy they were taught in their youth, to be afraid/ashamed of
their own desires. It’s a system that
can only be maintained by the continued complicity of those who’ve been caught
up in it, the “success stories” getting trotted out to show the “infected” youngsters
that they too can do it if they stay vigilant and self-denying. Teenagers who succumb to the deliria, or those whose procedure
doesn’t take, are regarded as failures, unable or unwilling to make themselves
well.
As with
In the Flesh, I like that Delirium’s LGBTQ notes aren’t purely metaphorical. It’s not nearly as pronounced here, since the
two acknowledged gay characters are relatively small members of a big ensemble,
and their relationship with each other is only occasionally touched on, but I appreciate
the inclusion. That said, it kind of
sucks that in a society where all
love is treated as a sickness, being gay is still extra stigmatized; they call it Unnaturalism. I don’t know why, though. If they hate and fear love in any form, why
would the gender make any difference?
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