Love is a Double Edged Sword: A Critical Analysis of the Usage of Queer Connotations in Reinvigorating Queer Pride
These 16 panels make up one of the comic strips in Mark Andreyko’s anthology Love is Love and will be the focus of this essay’s analysis.
On June 12th 2016, 49 innocent homosexuals were murdered in cold blood as Omar Marteen callously sprayed his weapon at a gay nightclub in Florida. Consequently, the impact of this event inspired Mark Andreyko to create Love is Love (2016), the unique and widely popular comic anthology that depicts the aftermath of the Florida shooting. Andreyko, a veteran comic book writer and artist, delivers his central message that love is the strongest weapon against hate to the LGBTQ community through embedding various queer connotations in his artwork. To understand the full extent of his comic’s ability to console a grieving LGBTQ community, I will analyze the various queer connotations made throughout the artwork and assess the assumptions conclusions, and implications that emerge from the author’s message.
The following image shows Lin Manuel Miranda in tears as he passionately delivers his famous “Love is Love” acceptance speech at the Tony Awards just hours after the Florida gay nightclub shooting.
Given the sensitivity of the topic at hand, Andreyko shields himself from potential scrutiny by basing his artwork off of the famous speech given by hollywood star and Hamilton Creator Lin Manuel Miranda. Miranda had heard about the incident while attending the Tony Awards in New York City, and in just mere hours, Miranda rewrote his entire acceptance speech and delivered an emotional, moving sonnet that paid tribute to the entire LGBTQ community. The genuineness and raw emotion that came from Miranda’s words shook the entire world and helped him earn a great deal of respect and acceptance from the LGBTQ community. To this day, Miranda remains as one of the few respected celebrities who applies their influence to openly speak about LGBTQ issues. As a comic book writer, Andreyko clearly lacks the experience and credibility in writing about queer issues and, as a result, he cleverly bases his artwork off of Miranda’s speech, which helps to strengthen his message’s credibility as the LGBTQ community will come to associate his artwork with that of Miranda’s heartfelt speech.
The above image depicts panel 7. In this panel, the ember drawn acts as a metaphor in Andreyko’s message to the queer community and the bright, clear contrast of bright and dark color helps to convey the idea that hope can prevail even in times of evil and darkness so long as pride does not die out.
Both Andreyko and Miranda use an ember as a metaphor for hope because an ember symbolizes the potential for growth and the delicate nature of pride. An ember can turn into a great fire, but it can also just as easily die out. That is why Andreyko encourages the LGBTQ community to stand strong against hate because it is at times of hatred when our conviction is tested the most. In the 7th panel, a small, quiet ember with fading delicate colors is drawn. At first glance, this drawing may administer a sense of negativity and hopelessness, but clearly it’s the author’s attempt to create a sense of uncertainty. It’s implied that the author is trying to communicate the idea that the LGBTQ community can either do nothing and let the ember die out or to “reignite the ember” into a spark of hope and pride (Andreyko). As Miranda once said, “we may rise and fall but we can always come back from the “light of dying embers” (Times). Although the “fire” (pride) may be put out, it is important to remain hopeful and to use grief as a weapon against hate instead of letting it consume the lasting optimism of the queer community.
Love is a double edged sword. It can stimulate hope and positivity, but it can also foster a sense of insouciance, which would de-emphasize the need to enact societal change. In many ways, Andreyko may be oversimplifying the issue at hand by telling the queer community to simply choose love over hatred. It falsely sends a message to the LGBTQ community that positivity and acceptance is always the correct course of action in times of grieving. I don’t blame the author for simplifying the situation as society has always imposed the idea that love trumps hate, but we must not make this mistake when consoling the LGBTQ community because they have already endured enough. Instead, we must take a step back and analyze the implications behind what the author is asking the queer community to do and from that determine a more functional message to deliver to the LGTBQ community.
Mark Joseph Stern, a writer for Slate Magazine, compares the Florida nightclub incident with the AIDS epidemic in the 1980s. He writes that as “odd as it might seem to draw parallels between the AIDS crisis and our current gun violence epidemic, the two are strikingly similar” (Slate). He argues that in both situations the government had ignored the voice of the LGBTQ community and refused to acknowledge the severity of the situation. Stern brings up a good point by reminding us that the LGBTQ community should learn from their past and defeat this crisis like how they did the AIDS crisis. According to Stern, “the AIDS crisis ended because gay men and their allies stood strong and fought back through lobbying, civil disobedience and declaring on the streets that SILENCE = DEATH” (Slate). The LGBTQ community is grieving right now, and they are pissed. Stern’s statements directly question the validity of Andreyko’s message of choosing love over hate as the assumption that loves trumps hate falls apart when Stern begs the question “why should the LGBTQ community accept their fate as occasional targets for slaughter and allow their fallen family in Orlando to have died in vain” (Slate)? As a result, I believe that Andreyko’s message would be more beneficial to the LGBTQ community if it addressed love not as this “all-powerful weapon” against hate, but rather as a tool to channel some of that anger and grief into action.
The following image shows panel 10. In this panel, two men are shown affectionately hugging each other. The image suggests the existence of queer love as the proximity and affection of the two bodies infer that they may have a non-platonic relationship.
The comic’s catchy title sends an implied message to readers that the notion of love is simple and that there exists some universal definition of love. This assumption, however, could be dangerous as it may very well exclude non-heteronormative perceptions of love. Queer love, for example, can be very different from heterosexual love, which would change the way we interpret the message of this artwork. Although it is impossible to know what the author could have meant exactly when he refers to “love”, Panel 10’s image showing two men affectionately hugging each other suggests that Andrekyo may have been referring to queer love when he uses the term “love is love” (Andreyko).
Queer love is in itself an incredibly complex concept and therefore cannot be generalized to one definition, but one potential interpretation of queer love is one by Olivia Comstock, a writer for the UI Women Center and queer activist who believes that queer love has the potential to reinvent the concept of love entirely. Olivia argues that “queer love gives options” and is not constrained to conventional heteronormative concerns like a wife taking a husband’s name (Comstock). She asserts that “because their identifies as trans and queer are excluded and marginalized, queer love embraces the idea of change and difference. We are marginalized because of our identities, but it also emboldens us to be the people that we are…it is because of this that we are able to be hopeful, open, receptive, and shape-shifting” (Comstock). In summary, Comstock’s defines queer love as love that knows no heteronormative customs and, in many ways, is “an act of protest” against the limiting and discriminating nature of heteronormative love. I will expand upon this definition later on in this analysis.
The following image is of panel 9 in the comic strip. A women with a glooming yet confident expression is shown holding a heart with the phrase “Love is an act of protest. Love is not a slogan. Love is not a hollow promise” written on it.
In panel 9 of the strip, a woman with grievous yet hopeful eyes is seen glaring out into the open while holding a red heart with the text “Love is an act of protest” written upon it (Andreyko). Andreyko draws a sharp comparison between the sadness and hopefulness of the women by drawing heavy eye pockets on the woman’s face, which communicates a sense of sadness, while also depicting her with a broad stature looking out into the horizon, which gives off a sense of ambition and openness to change. This could very well mean that the author is referring to Comstock’s definition of queer love as the women is shown to be receptive to change despite the distressful nature of the situation. This is further suggested by the slogan — Love is an act of protest — printed on the red heart as this statement draws a direct parallel to our earlier interpretation of Comstock’s definition of queer love, which also references the idea that “love is an act of protest” (Comstock). If Andreyko is indeed referring to Comstock’s definition of queer love then perhaps Love is Love conveys the message to the queer community that, unlike heteronormative love, the queer community is built on a stronger, more flexible foundation of love that is more resilient to adversity and should therefore allow the LGBTQ community to get past this harrowing incident.
This following image is of panel 16. This image shows a sun with the word “Fly” written in large, bold letters. There is a shift in color tone from darkness to brightness which suggests a transition towards positivity.
In the last panel, a sun is drawn with the word “Fly” written upon it. It’s clear that the author is suggesting the queer community head towards a new direction but what is this direction exactly? In the third panel, a caption reads “let them in and pour tea for the savages” (Andreyko). This caption suggests that Andreyko believes that the queer community should not change the way they are and should instead ignore society’s repression and discrimination. This very idea is highlighted in Comstock’s theory of a post-heterosexual world in her article A Post-Hetersexual Vision of Love. But what exactly does a post-heterosexual world entail? Well according to Comstock, a post heteroseuxal world is a world where the queer community “is genuine to their character and body while living in a world where doing so means potential violence and discrimination” (Comstock). She argues that genuineness to our sexual identity despite society’s repression is key to overcoming the repressive binary constructs of today’s heteronormative society. She continues to argue that “if you approach someone without making any assumptions about them — their gender, body, preferences, sexuality, and/or race — then people are able to create those aspects fully for themselves. It is about reinventing institutions of all kinds to include multiplicity” (Comstock). If Andreyko is suggesting that the queer community “Fly” towards a post-heterosexual world then we must examine the costs of doing so. In other words, what is the cost of being visible in this so-called “post-heterosexual world.”
Unfortunately, visibility comes at a cost in both today’s society and in Comstock’s idealized post-heterosexual world and, historically, this cost has always been imposed upon the LGBTQ community. Catherine Lord in her piece Inside the Politic 1980-Present reveals this cost when she says “everyone is accepting as long as you keep quiet and don’t ask embarrassing questions” (Lord 33). The author quotes Dan Cameron who states that publishing “gay art would end his career” (Lord 33). Love is Love was written in response to the Florida shooting, which was a hate act against the LGBTQ community. In the artwork, however, the author continues to assert to the LGBTQ community that they must “choose to live in the sun” (Andreyko). This addresses a similar issue with what is mentioned in Inside the Body Politic, which is that the majority of the LGBTQ community still fears to express their emotions, and their fear is definitely justified. Brandon Tensley, an editor for the Pacific Standard, found research from RTI International, a nonprofit group dedicated to improving the human condition, showing that “despite the widespread perception that society is becoming more accepting of LGBTQ people, rates of violent crimes against this group have not improved since the 1990s” (Tensley). As a result, he recommends that queer communities “make subtle but profound changes to their everyday lives” by slowing adding individuality to their daily lives in order to “minimize the risk of experiencing discrimination” (Tensley). Tensley’s research and recommendation definitely helps to fill the gap in Andreyko argument by acknowledging the costs of being visible in today’s society.
So far we have discussed both the queer connotations Andreyko employs and the artistic techniques he uses, but it is also important to acknowledge the overall attitude of this artwork as that directly impacts the artwork’s ability to console a hurting LGBTQ community. Andreyko’s background as a comic book writer definitely helps him highlight the creative spirit of the LGBTQ community as comics are very rarely used to depict grievous situations like mass-shootings. This may very well help reinvigorate a sense of pride to LGBTQ individuals as it highlights a defining value of the LGBTQ community — defiance to norms and a willingness to accept new ideas. This comic piece’s ingenuousness is captured not only in the depth of its picture and language, but also in its ability to depict a grievous situation in a care-free and loving manner.
Despite some of the erroneous generalizations and shortcomings in Andreyko’s use of queer connotations, I think Love is Love still communicates the right idea to the queer community that queer love has endured harder pasts and that this incident should be of no exception. I fully commend Andreyko’s optimism and his willingness to support the LGBTQ community, but I think the queer community would benefit more from Andreyko’s message if they interpreted the artwork with an optimistic attitude while simultaneously keeping a contextualized perspective of their arduous past. This should allow the LGBTQ community to strive for a future where they can preserve their individuality whilst minimizing the cost of being visible in today’s society.
Works Cited
Andreyko, Mark. “Love Is Love.” Love Is Love, IWG , 2016, p. 144.
Comstock, Olivia. “A Post-Heterosexual Vision of Love.” The University of Idaho Women’s Center’s Blog, Women’s Center, 3 Mar. 2017, uiwomenscenter.wordpress.com/2017/02/18/a-post-heterosexual-vision-of-love/.
Lord, Catherine, and Richard Meyer. “Inside the Body Politic: 1980-Present.” Art & Queer Culture, Phaidon, 2013, pp. 33–33.
Stern, Mark Joseph. “Gun Violence Is an Epidemic. The LGBTQ Community Defeats Epidemics.” Slate Magazine, Slate Magazine, 14 June 2016, www.slate.com/blogs/outward/2016/06/14/gun_violence_epidemic_lgbtq_people_will_fight_back.html.
Times, The New York. “Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Sonnet From the Tony Awards.” The New York Times, The New York Times, 12 June 2016, www.nytimes.com/2016/06/13/theater/lin-manuel-mirandas-sonnet-from-the-tony-awards.html.
Tensley, Brandon, and Josh Edelson. “The Double-Edged Sword of Queer Visibility.” Pacific Standard, Pacific Standard Magazine, 28 June 2017, psmag.com/social-justice/double-edged-sword-queer-visibi.
