Shadowhunters and Downworlders: A Mortal Instruments Reader(42)

Remember About the Windows and Mirrors? Sometimes People Want to Break Them


You might call what I did above “fansearch” (fan + research), a nonfiction companion to fanfic. Being inspired to learn more about something when it’s mentioned in a book you’re enjoying is certainly valuable for anyone, but I’d argue that it’s especially so when there aren’t many books out there that reflect your life. Investigating history through a queer lens is a way to make a link between your experiences and what others have gone through in the past. The GLBT History Museum in San Francisco has a quote from a 1979 flyer inscribed on one wall that reminds visitors of the struggles of the queer community: “Our letters were burned, our names blotted out, our books censored, our love declared unspeakable, our very existence denied.”

And while I’m emphatically not a fan of emphasizing the challenges and difficulties that can accompany a queer identity, it’s important to recognize that even today, there are a distressing number of people who are actively hostile to anyone whose sexuality and gender identity don’t neatly fit their expectations. In a post about Clary and rape culture, well worth reading in full, Clare writes:

I get hate mail about Alec and Magnus on what I would say is about a weekly basis. I keep thinking it will get boring, but no, every time I wind up shaking with rage and walking around trying to shake it off and cool down. Since there’s such a pile of it, I tend to notice the same language cropping up again and again. One of the most common complaints is that I made Alec and Magnus gay “for no real point” or “for shock value” or “to make money.”

I always wondered what the hell that was about. Did Alec and Magnus’ sexuality have to create world peace before it was okay to include it? Are gay people existing that shocking? Is anyone dumb enough to think that including gay characters in your story is going to net you the big bucks rather than what actually happens, which is that your book gets kept out of trade fairs and banned from libraries?

Characters like Alec and Magnus, whose presence within a fictional universe as popular as Clare’s puts them in front of a far wider audience than many other books with LGBTQ themes, are mirrors for some and windows for others. Readers who think Clare made Magnus and Alec queer “for no real point” are themselves missing the point. The presence of queer characters helps all readers, regardless of sexuality, get to a place where we can see both ourselves and each other more clearly.



Sara Ryan is the author of the YA novels Empress of the World (Viking, 2001, reissued 2012 with new material) and The Rules for Hearts (Viking, 2007) and of various comics and short stories. Most recently she is a contributor to Welcome to Bordertown (Random House, 2011), Girl Meets Boy (Chronicle, 2012), and Chicks Dig Comics (Mad Norwegian Press, 2012). Her first graphic novel, Bad Houses, with art by Carla Speed McNeil, is forthcoming from Dark Horse Comics.





SCOTT TRACEY

Like Scott Tracey, I love a good villain. Without a good villain, a story is pretty weak. I loved Valentine in all of his monstrous humanity, so it is without reservation that I say: Go forth, and enjoy this valentine to Valentine. We miss him, but really, it’s best he stays wherever he is…


VILLAINS, VALENTINE, AND

VIRTUE

I love a villain. Before you can make me care about the heroine’s quest or whether the hero will overcome adversity to get the girl, I’m already rooting for the villain. Why? Maybe it’s because good villains start at the end of the journey while the heroine grows and learns as a part of hers. Good villains are always at their best/worst. They get to act right from the start; they thrive from the moment they step onto the stage.

Or maybe it’s because villains are so entertaining. When you’re a villain, the spotlight is always on you; every scene you’re in becomes crucial just because you’re in it. Villains make their own kind of fun, and that usually involves explosions. They have nefarious opportunities in bulk. When it comes to villainy, there are no rules, no limits, and certainly no expectations—the villain’s only job is to create problems and force the heroes to react.

Or maybe it’s just because villains have cooler wardrobes, snazzier accessories, minions—not to mention some of the best lines of dialogue. Villains can tell you the truths you don’t want to hear, and make you suffer for it.

Yup, whether it’s Loki in The Avengers, Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty, Irina Derevko from Alias, or Voldemort, I’m Team Evil and Eyeliner all the way. I don’t care if they’re big or small, male or female, human or something else entirely. Give me a great villain, of any shape, size, or origin, and you’ll have my time and attention, and access to my wallet for years to come.

This is one of the great things about the Mortal Instruments series: It has so many different flavors of villainy. There’s a whole underground world of monsters, any of whom could fulfill another series’ evil quota all on their own.

There are the faeries, who seem to show up only to cause Clary trouble (and occasionally give her a good lead on the latest mystery). The Faerie Queen tricks, beguiles, and tortures at whim, hiding her cruelty in archaic forms of hospitality such as the offering of food or drink. Even the simple act of telling a truth—a faerie mandate—is twisted to serve her villainy; some truths are wicked and sharp. Then there are the vampires, who have to feed on human beings to survive. They siphon off the thing that keeps humans from death and steal it for themselves. Not to mention all the werewolves and warlocks and other Downworlders that haunt the night.