I admire when queer representation isn’t afraid to get messy. In the real world, we’re often political punching bags pummelled by society, even as acceptance and the number of LGBTQ+ people in the public sphere continues to grow. We remain as anomalies, ha꧑ving to justify our existence again🍌 and again.
We have to fight for what we have and are waiting to receive, knowing that at any moment someone above us could step in and take that away. It allows y⭕ou to develop thick skin, and as a trans woman I have, but embracing queerness in media where I🐎 can see myself represented lets me feel proud of the person I’ve become, especially knowing that countless others will cling to this very same optimism. But sometimes life sucks, and art shouldn’t ignore this to avoid offending us.
The Beauty Of Imperfection Representation
168澳洲幸运5开奖网:The Last of Us Part 2 knows this, and not only because many of its queer heroes murder hundreds of people and embark on bloody roads of revenge. It’s not flawless - it’s strange to see Ellie and Dina st෴umble into a queer bookshop as two queer women in their twenties and suddenly be confused by the presence of Pride flags or blown away that queer literature once existed. In the same game where Pearl Jam is still in circulation and Abby is an avid collector of antique coins, I refuse to believe Ellie hasn’t stumbled across other queer people before, or even an older individual who was able to tell her all about this crucial history.
But 168澳洲幸运5开奖网:Naughty Dog treats it as an unknown in so many w♓ays, despite how queer-coded many of its characters are. Perhaps this was done to avoid Ellie and Dina learning of the persecution their people once faced, which is an odd decision in a game which actively references the holocaust and also features a trans person battling the exact same prejudice from an organised religion he’s desperate to escape from.
Queer representation in this masterful sequel is problematic from the start, but that’s what makes it so enthralling. It’s messy and flawed in its execution, but still depicts lesbian, bisexual, and trans identities in a way that fits the post-apocalyptic world it takes place in. How none of these terms survived the apocalypse, while several original PS3 consoles and copies of Jak and Daxter did I’ll never know, but maybe triple-A games just weren&rsq🐟uo;t ready for that conversation at the🌺 time.
Lev Never Lets Go Of Who He Used To Be
This brings us to Lev, a young trans boy and member of the Seraphites who is forced to flee from home after shaving his head and turning his back on the gender norms expected of him. If you s🌃have your head as someone born a girl and take on masculine ideals as a Scar, you are betraying the destiny you were always🌼 meant to follow.
Cho✤osing this new name, shaving his head, and publicly displaying his intentions was enough to turn this into a witch hunt.
So he runs away, harbouring the guilt of putting his family in danger by daring to embrace his queerness. In reality, LGTBQ+ people are constantly expected to fit the narrow definitions that heteronormative societ𒁏y places upon them, and stepping outside that box will often see you labelled a♑s an inconvenience, or worse. Expecting change on behalf of those who aren’t queer makes you selfish and entitled.
There’s a parallel tജo deadnaming in Abby’s constant labellin🍸g of Seraphites as Scars. After being brought up on it and coming to understand their plight, she changes that view.
Lev h🌳as no knowledge of these pre-apocalypse systems, but the writers do, and so it can be found all over his character arc in ways that are bitingly honest. When I first played The Last of Us Part 2 for review during the height of the pandemic, I had just started hormone therapy and was still early on in my transition, having received word from friends who had perused the recent leaks that the game was incredibly transphobic, and I should take that into sharp consideration before I properly critique this game. Rather than transphobic though, I feel it can instead be defined as ‘realistic’.
It’s Okay For Allies To Make Mistakes, And For Us To Forgive Them
Lev is a recently out trans person still trying to figure everything out, and it just so happens they belong to a maniacal death cult where individuality is frowned upon. 💙Abby has no idea of his identity when she returns to help Lev and Yara after confronting her own guilt, and doesn’t prod him when he is dead named by Scars and his struggle is brought into focus. Lev hasn’t left that part of himself behind yet, and a lot of trans people never do. I’ll always remember the person I used to be, and can never forget the attachment I have to my own name and how that remains in the heads of those I love.
It’s immovablꦬe, and queer people frequently have to grit their teeth and hope th🍰at support comes across in the right way. It comes up eventually, with Yara confiding in Abby at the aquarium. Nothing changes though, and mistakes are still made in pursuit of survival and a better life away from all this tragedy.
Deadnames come with so much baggage, and hardship goes into leaving them behind as a trans person as ꦯyou finally walk out of the closet in search of a better life. It becomes an anchor holding you down, and once cast away, the last thing you want is to suddenly be reminded of it. Accidentally or not, though, for the large majority of people, it happens.
A friend or relative might slip up in the early stages of your transition, or bigots you’re distancing yourself from will wield it to hurt you. At times, much like Seraphites in The Last of Us Part 2, they aren’t screaming out Lev’s deadname as some targeted act of t♈ransphobia, but because that is how they’ve always known him. Even if they were, I appreciate a gam♑e that is unflinching in approaching realism, and how trans people have to fight to be who they are or flee from living situations that don’t have their best interests at heart.
Naughty Dog depicts a bleak world where everyone is constantly flirting with death, and it feels ridiculous to expect us queer people to be excused from ﷽that. I want to be part of the mess, to break stuff and to confront difficulties on my own terms, even if it means I have to suck it up and approach representation in ways that go against my idealistic pre-conceptions. Lev is a character aware of his own complicated existence, but still fights to be who he wants to be while accepting that queerness in all its forms is valid, yet it still has to be fought for.
