Introduction: Contextualizing Trans Narratologies

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

• Introduction: Contextualizing Trans Narratologies
• Cody Mejeur (bio) and Chiara Pellegrini (bio)

KEYWORDS

trans narrative, trans narrative studies, queer narratology, feminist narratology, social justice, political narratives, gender norms

Prefatory Note: While we have aimed to write this introduction with one voice, we have at times felt it important to differentiate between us, highlighting a dialogic process. As Cody is trans and Chiara is not, our positionalities result in different inflections when discussing transness. This situation is not only inevitable but potentially very generative when forming a trans narrative studies that, on the one hand, is adamant in centering trans people and, on the other, also calls upon cis people to do the work; trans methodologies, politics, and justice should not be viewed as the niche interest of a few but as necessary for the liberation of all. The sections following our names in bold are in our individual voices, and unmarked paragraphs are written together with one voice.

WE WRITE THE INTRODUCTION of this special issue on trans narrative studies in a moment of ascendent transphobia and aggressive organizing and legislation against trans peoples around the world. In the US, 385 bills of anti-trans legislation have been introduced, with 22 states banning gender affirming care for people under age 18, and some currently considering bans regardless of age. In Tennessee, attacks on a transgender health clinic at Vanderbilt University led the hospital to remove trans healthcare information from its website, and later turn over trans patient medical [End Page 125] records to the state attorney general, allowing the state to identify and potentially target trans people and their families. In the UK, transphobic groups are given space in the media to voice their support of proposed government policies such as banning trans women from single-gender hospital wards, and writers known for voicing anti-trans views, such as Janice Turner and Kathleen Stock, are honored with awards.¹ In the EU, 28 countries require a mental health diagnosis to change one’s name or gender on identity documents. Many more countries around the world do not recognize trans identity nor offer legal protections against anti-trans violence and discrimination. Global violence against trans people (particularly trans women of color) has remained consistently high since 2021, the “deadliest year” since records began, and every year murders are reported for the first time in countries around the world (with many in Central and South America), indicating both growing violence and the likelihood that many more lost trans lives never make it into these statistics. Even in the midst of such powerful anti-trans mobilizing, there are glimmers of hope that are legislative (for example, Scotland’s Gender Recognition Reform Bill), representational (the growth of trans characters and stories across media), and communal (the proliferation of grassroots trans organizations and funding, often focusing on housing, food, education, and safety) (Yurcaba and Valle). Yet glimmers they remain, and in many places the rights, stories, and lives of trans people are under assault.

In the midst of this reality, we argue that narrative and the study of it (narratology, narrative studies, or narrative theory, used interchangeably throughout this issue) have roles to play in the fight for trans freedoms. Not the roles of saviors, heroes, or panacea for complex issues, to be sure, but the roles of support, rhetorical intervention, and critical hope that can directly contribute to transforming current realities.

Cody:

Anti-trans efforts are steeped in narratives: about trans people and our identities, about our supposed nefarious intentions and conspiracies, about our ability to pass on knowledge and survival tactics that are now labeled as “grooming.” These narratives harken back to anti-queer narratives about gays as corruptors and pedophiles that led Lee Edelman to stand up at the 1997 Narrative Conference in Gainesville, Florida and say “fuck the child” in resistance to the weaponization of the image of the child against queer peoples. Indeed, in some cases the anti-trans narratives of today are the anti-queer and anti-feminist narratives of the past with a fresh coat of paint. The continuance and evolution of these narratives tells us that we have on our hands a profoundly, thoroughly narrative problem: what are...