I wanted to share my reflection on what is perhaps my favorite piece of queer classic literature. The Well of Loneliness, a novel written by Radclyffe Hall in 1928, is often referred to as a depressing lesbian novel. My interpretation of this story follows a different path. As a boyish non binary person who was assigned female at birth, I instantly saw myself in Hall’s protagonist, Stephen, who was a self proclaimed boy as a child.
Stephen, who despite explorations of gender identity is referred to as she throughout the novel, is doted on by her father. She had, what at the time would have been considered, an idyllic boyhood with the exception of friendship. She faces the familiar situation of struggling to find respect among the boys or a place among the girls. As she approaches adulthood she finally makes a friend who everyone in turn expects her to marry. The story continues into her adult life as she navigates her love of women and further explores her gender identity. Like many queer people who have been told they are wrong for being who they are, she struggles with self hatred and learning how to love and be loved.
I will admit, the story is filled with sad moments, although for me, it fell in line with my experiences as a non binary person trying to figure out my place in the world. I recognize the compounded sadness in the fact that it was written almost 100 years ago and we are still experiencing homophobia and transphobia. Yet, I can’t help but feel a deep sense of validity knowing that people were having similar experiences to me so long ago. I know we are valid no matter how often people say we are a phase or that we simply don’t exist, but hearing stories of queer people from the past always feels validating to me. We have been around for a long time, and we’re not going anywhere. It’s about time that people get used to us.
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