The Inherent Homoeroticism of Going on A Quest with your Friends Sunday, 15 November 2020, 9:31 PM by Lily Honour Earp Edited by Lily Honour Earp, Sunday, 15 November 2020, 10:33 PM Audience – LGBT, Young Adult/18-30yr old, Non-Academic The Inherent Homoeroticism of Going on A Quest with your Friends The Inherent Homoeroticism of Going on A Quest with your Friends is a snappy title, but it is not the most accurate. This is less a study of the explicit text, or of the subtext that implies homoeroticism, but more a look at how love, of any kind, but generally of a kind deeper than a shallow or platonic bond between friends, is formed over the course of characters journey. Similarly, a ‘quest’ typically means a search for something, with a clear end goal, whereas I will be looking at any kind of quest, journey, or adventure that involves two or more people. The key component is the extended time spent in one another’s company, and the threat of danger. These are the two factors that can be so essential to forming the close bonds that engender the perception of romantic love. For as long as we have existed, humanity has created stories of great quests. As writing developed, they were written down. And so, we have some of the oldest known stories of male adventure, success, and of love. The first that I will look at is the Epic of Gilgamesh, and then the later story within the Iliad, of Achilles and Patroclus. There are modern examples too, a great many of them. Some of the most important, at least for me, come from Lord of the Rings, and from Star Trek, although we see the same patterns repeated across all media, including marvel films. The notable difference between the ancient examples, and these modern ones, is that the romantic love that I will be discussing is accidental, it is ‘fanon’, rather than ‘canon’. You may have noticed that the majority of romances I have discussed here are between two men. Largely, this is because the media is dominated by men, it is male stories that are told, and so it is male romances that develop within them. The Epic of Gilgamesh is possibly the oldest narrative tale that we have written evidence for, and there are many different versions. Each version, however, includes Enkidu. The tale tells the story of how Gilgamesh, young, and masculine, and somewhat overbearing, has a rival, his equal, created for him, largely as a distraction, so the poor people around Gilgamesh could finally have some peace and quiet. Once Enkidu has been tamed by a woman – transformed from wild man, to a civilised man – Gilgamesh begins to have prophetic dreams about Enkidu, in the form of an Axe. “The copper axe which you saw is a man. You will love it as a wife, you will dote upon it, And I shall treat it as equal to you. A strong partner will come to you, one who can save the life of a comrade. He will be the powerful in strength of arms in the land. His strength will be as great as that of a sky-bolt of Anu” (Gil.1.6.) The prostitute Shamhat sums it up to Enkidu rather more succinctly: “The dreams mean that you will love one another” (Gil.1.6) As Shamhat states, it is very clear that Gilgamesh and Enkidu are fated to love each other. Their first meeting is a fight, and from there after they go on an extended journey, the epic, together. Nissinen, in his 2010 article Are there Homosexuals in Mesopotamian Literature?, argues that “the Epic is not about homosexuality, or even homoeroticism, but about love between two male persons – and more than that, about the constraints of desire and human fate.” The constraints of a mortal fate become clear to Gilgamesh upon Enkidu’s untimely death, after the gods decree, that as punishment for slaying the bull of heaven, one of them must die, Enkidu must die, the two must be separated. Gilgamesh wanders, and as he does, he mourns for Enkidu, lamenting the loss of his companion; and faced with the reality of his own mortality. “Gilgamesh mourned bitterly for Enkidu his friend, And roamed open country. ‘shall I die too? Am I not like Enkidu? Grief has entered my innermost being, I am afraid of Death, and so I roam open country” (Gil. 9.1) Throughout the Epic, it is clear that neither Gilgamesh nor Enkidu would be as strong and accomplished apart, as they are together, their relationship, the love that they share, allows them to accomplish great feats, and upon Enkidu’s death, Gilgamesh grieves the loss deeply, and fears his own mortality. The emphasis within the Epic is on the close bonds that form between the two, and on their positioning as equals to one another. The bonds of love and trust that bind them, are part of a pattern that we see often repeated. Image 1 - Tarabieh, W., (2018) Gilgamesh [painting] Available at: https://waeltarabieh.blogspot.com/p/blog-page_84.html (Accessed: 15th November 2020) Image 1 - Gilgamesh and Enkidu wrestle (Tarabieh, 2018) Within the Iliad, the story of Achilles and Patroclus has similar themes of trust, close bonds, and loss that drives the survivor forwards, although they differ in that Achilles and Patroclus do not fight together as Gilgamesh and Enkidu do. As Warwick argues in her article, We Two Alone: Conjugal Bonds and Homoerotic Subtext in the Iliad, the relationship between Achilles and Patroclus is characterized by homoerotic subtext, and their relationship is framed in a similar way to that of Odysseus and Penelope, or of Andromache and Hector. Achilles and Patroclus, having been raised and taught together, travel to Troy to fight alongside all other Greeks. When Achilles refuses to fight, it is Patroclus who is able to convince him; Warwick argues that this is a deliberate parallel to the story told by Phoenix, in which only Meleager’s wife can convince him to fight. Later, upon the death of Patroclus at the walls of troy, Achilles mourns his death, and tells his mother, Thetis, of how close their bond had been: “when my dear friend is killed, Patroklos, a man I honoured above all my companions, as much as my own life. I have lost him,” (Hom. Iliad. 18:75) In this, Achilles reaffirms how much Patroclus had meant to him, and how their relationship had been closer, more important to Achilles, than any other. What both of these tales have in common is the bond between the two characters. This is romantic and sexual, but it also based in trust, they are examples of emotional closeness and vulnerability. They support each other, they are stronger together, and weaker apart. The characters as a ‘pair’ is essential, the two have more strength and power than the one, although whilst the loss of one is great, and for a brief time destroys the other, leaving him lost and unable to continue, he does move beyond the grief, and accomplish his goal. Image 2 - Sosias Painter, (n.d) Akhilleus Patroklos Antikensammlung Berlin F2278, [pottery] Available at: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Akhilleus_Patroklos_Antikensammlung_Berlin_F2278.jpg (Accessed: 15th November 2020 Image 2 - Achilles tends to Patroclus's injuries (pottery) The ending for Achilles differs to that of Gilgamesh, who returns, and is treated as a king, whilst Achilles dies on the battlefield, but the Iliad, as with much of surviving Greek literature, is intended as a tragedy, whilst the Epic of Gilgamesh is not. Possibly you could blame the Mesopotamians for inventing the ‘bury your gays’ trope, and the ancient Greeks for popularising it, but since none of these characters fit our modern perceptions of ‘gay’, and the need for positive representation was not an issue, then they should be forgiven for (accidentally) doing so. As we see with modern media, in which a relationship that is supposed to be merely platonic is read as romantic, we see the opposite with discussion of the classics. Tales such as the Epic of Gilgamesh, or the relationship between Achilles and Patroclus, have been held up as great, shining examples, of the strength and beauty of a close, platonic male friendship. In short, as just Guys being Pals. Whilst there is a valid argument made for varying interpretations of the texts, and how explicit the love between male characters is in those texts (and here translations complicate matters, as one author will translate a phrase in a more explicit way than the next), and of course for how important it is to have examples of close male friendship – especially now, in a society that too often judges such expressions of trust between men – it is hard to avoid the fact that these relationships are intended to be romantic, and those that say otherwise are simply uncomfortable with gay relationships. The setting of a great quest, journey, adventure, or epic is a convenient one for seeing these homoerotic bonds between characters, because the stakes are high, and there is time for these themes to develop. In classical myth, such as Gilgamesh, or the Iliad, the relationship is a constant background, but develops either before the story really begins, as with Achilles and Patroclus, or right at the start, as with Gilgamesh and Enkidu. In modern media, many fans argue that they can see the same dynamics develop between the main characters. The crucial difference here, is that this is fan theory, based on subtext and often projection, rather than canon. However, I would argue that this does not mean that these ‘ships’ are any less relevant, because they are based on the same themes. Plus, of course, there are always those scholars who would argue that anyone claiming that Gilgamesh and Enkidu were in a loving homosexual relationship is doing nothing different to anyone who would argue that Spock and Kirk, or Sam and Frodo, are also in loving homosexual relationships. Popular relationships in ‘fanon’, are generally, as with the classics, based on love, trust, and extended journey together. The characters are given the opportunity to show emotional vulnerability, and subtext implies that possibly there is more to the relationship than the author, or show writers, claim. The tale of Sam and Frodo’s journey into the heart or Mordor to destroy the ring echoes the classics, a story of trust in one another, and a love that drives Sam to follow Frodo ever onwards. Theirs is a story of love, in one way or another, and I would, as many others do, argue that it is a romantic one, although people can, and do, argue for hours about what Tolkien intended to write, but in all honesty, I have little interest in what he intended, I am far more concerned with what he did write. Regardless of whether the subtext (and I use subtext very liberally, there is little subtly to it) was intended, it is there, and that is what I am concerned with. Image 3 - Knox Ostertag, M., (2020) Sam and Frodo as Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss” [fanart] Available at: https://twitter.com/hobbitgay/status/1323357960718856192?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw%7Ctwcamp%5Etweetembed%7Ctwterm%5E1323357960718856192%7Ctwgr%5E&ref_url=https%3A%2F%2Fpublish.twitter.com%2F%3Fquery%3Dhttps3A2F2Ftwitter.com2Fhobbitgay2Fstatus2F1323357960718856192widget%3DTweet (Accessed: 15th November 2020) Image 3 - Sam and Frodo fanart, illustration based on the quote "Sam felt that he could sit like that in endless happiness; but it was not allowed", in the style of the statue "Psyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss" (Knox Ostertag, 2020) The relationship can be illustrated here, when Sam finds Frodo alive, after he has been presumed dead and taken by Orc’s. “Sam felt that he could sit like that in endless happiness; but it was not allowed” (Tolkien, RotK, pp. 889) For many, such as Molly (the creator of the above work, a drawing based upon the above quote), this is relatable, as it captures the feeling of being gay, and wanting a relationship that you are scared to have, and not being sure that you could ever have it with them. "not 'something', I know exactly what it is - the very queer feeling of being so close and intimate with the person you love, but not in the way you want. wanting a moment to last forever because you fear it's the closest you will ever get to truly being with them. ow." — molly (@hobbitgay) October 8, 2020 The subtext of this relationship is one that is based on love, trust, and an emotional closeness that is achieved despite, and perhaps because of, the growing threat around them. It is in this way that Sam and Frodo’s relationship in The Lord of the Rings reflects the classical stories of Gilgamesh and Enkidu, and Achilles and Patroclus. Another modern example of (a perceived) love that is based on the same themes as above – love, trust, respect, one willing to follow the other – come from Star Trek: The Original Series, and is the relationship between Spock and Kirk. This has been perceived by many fans as a romantic one, and again, as with LoTR, comes mostly from the subtext. One of the many examples that people use as evidence for a romantic relationship, is the term T’hy’la, a Vulcan word, which, according to the fanlore wiki, means “friend”, “brother”, or “lover”. The relationship between Kirk and Spock, is again characterised by trust, and by emotional vulnerability. It is one of a bond that is integral to the story. Image 4 - Unknown, (n.d.) KirkSpock [screencap] Available at: https://www.womenatwarp.com/treks-non-toxic-male-friendships/ (Accessed: 15th November 2020) Image 4 - Screencap of Spock and Kirk Star trek falls under the realm of ‘quest’ because it is an ongoing journey, an adventure across the galaxy, with a near-constant risk of danger. Regardless of how canon the relationships between Sam and Frodo, and Spock and Kirk are in comparison to those between Gilgamesh and Enkidu, and Achilles and Patroclus, they are comparable because of the essential core themes. Nissinen’s above argument, although applied by him to the Epic of Gilgamesh, and the relationship between Gilgamesh and Enkidu, is applicable to all of these stories. They are, at their core, about love. Whether or not it is homosexual, or homoerotic, or intended to be, is less important, because all such stories are simply a tale of love, and the constraints of mortality, and dangers that the characters must face together. Image Bibliography Image 1 - Tarabieh, W., (2018) Gilgamesh [painting] Available at: https://waeltarabieh.blogspot.com/p/blog-page_84.html (Accessed: 15th November 2020) Image 2 - Sosias Painter, (n.d) Akhilleus Patroklos Antikensammlung Berlin F2278, [pottery] Available at: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Akhilleus_Patroklos_Antikensammlung_Berlin_F2278.jpg (Accessed: 15th November 2020) Image 3 - Knox Ostertag, M., (2020) Sam and Frodo as Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss” [fanart] Available at: https://twitter.com/hobbitgay/status/1323357960718856192?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw%7Ctwcamp%5Etweetembed%7Ctwterm%5E1323357960718856192%7Ctwgr%5E&ref_url=https%3A%2F%2Fpublish.twitter.com%2F%3Fquery%3Dhttps3A2F2Ftwitter.com2Fhobbitgay2Fstatus2F1323357960718856192widget%3DTweet (Accessed: 15th November 2020) Image 4 - Unknown, (n.d.) KirkSpock [screencap] Available at: https://www.womenatwarp.com/treks-non-toxic-male-friendships/ (Accessed: 15th November 2020) Bibliography Dalley, S., (2008) Myths from Mesopotamia: Creation, The Flood, Gilgamesh, and Others. Translated by S. Dalley., 2nd edn, Oxford: Oxford University Press Fanlore (2019) T’hy’la (Vulcan term) Available at: https://fanlore.org/wiki/T%27hy%27la_(Vulcan_term) (Accessed: 15th November 2020) Homer, The Iliad, trans. Hammond, M., (1987) London: Penguin Group Molly (2020) 8th October, Available at: https://publish.twitter.com/?query=https%3A%2F%2Ftwitter.com%2Fhobbitgay%2Fstatus%2F1314317900165996544&widget=Tweet (Accessed: 15th November 2020 Nissinen, M., (2010) ‘Are There Homosexuals in Mesopotamian Literature?’, Journal of the American Oriental Society, 130(1), pp. 73-77 Warwick, C., (2019) ‘We Two Alone: Conjugal Bonds and Homoerotic Subtext in the Iliad’, Helios 46(2), pp.115-139