I have certain problems with book series which were progressive as for their times in one aspect but were quite mediocre on other levels. Some of those series, like Darkover by Marion Zimmer Bradley, made me literally angry. Some others, like books of Lynn Flewelling, gave me fun, actually. Nevertheless, I should not forget about problems of this series.
And I’ll try to describe them justly.
The Nightrunner Series is often praised as a child of the 1990s which introduced LGBT+ characters as protagonists and made a gay affair of two bisexual guys the main love story. And surely – it was unusual, but Flewelling was by no means the first one to do so. Let’s not forget about The Last Herald Mage trilogy by Mercedes Lackey who introduced a gay protagonist and two big non-heteronormative love stories. And if that wasn’t enough as for the 1990s, she also raised difficult questions of homophobia and debunked the dumbest stereotypes about gay people. And all this several years before The Nightrunner’s installment.
Lynn Flewelling’s series introduces us to the setting which isn’t homophobic, biphobic or whats-ever. On the one hand, it’s refreshing and optimistic. It’s always nice to see a world which isn’t defined by our own biases. It also makes the love affair between Alec and Seregil, the protagonists, an unaffected love story. It’s similar to the way heterosexual love stories are presented, but it is by no means deprived from its gay aspect. On the other hand, such a setting looks as if the decades of struggle of LGBT movement don’t count since, look, we can always devise our dream universe!
Also, there is a certain problem to the kind of tolerance explored in this series, and it’s so much clear that it was “the sign of time”.
It’s about the stereotypes on Mediterranean and cities-centered culture as lush and easy about sex. And it’s actually quite an old conviction—about “Greek love” and “pansexual” Romans.
What does it have to do with Flewelling’s setting? Skala, the main country of the universe, is to some extend based on Early Modern Italy (lots of princes and poisoning) with numerous quasi-ancient elements such as oracles, architecture, frescoes and, of course, names sounding Greek-ish and Latin-ish—such as Nysander, Thero, Klia or Valerius.
And then, we are getting the notion that the Skalans, unlike the stiff Northerners, are easy about all the sexual orientations and about sex-working.
And I have certain problems with this depiction. At first, there are uncanny elements to it—Seregil is a young elf guy in his fifties while Alec is half an elf (but he doesn’t know it initially) of sixteen. And let’s not forget that elves are called Aurenfaië here. So… Seregil may be young according to his heritage, but he’s nevertheless so much older from Alec, he’s more experienced, and he’s in the position of a mentor. Sounds fishy? Oh yes!
Also, we learn only of those sex-workers who work at safe and rich places, and who are glad with their job. But what’s up with those sex-workers whose work conditions aren’t that safe and who cannot choose their clients? We never learn that worse side.
And there are problems with it on the level of worldbuilding. The whole premise of the quasi-Mediterranean culture here is based on two common misconceptions.
The first one is about sexuality in Ancient Greece and Rome.
Those cultures, you see, weren’t all an LGBT paradise. The whole notion of gender was about adult men as the supreme point of the humanity, disposing their superiority to all the others, such as women, girls and adolescent boys. This explains why homosexual relations were accepted almost only between men in their late twenties and boys in their mid and late teens. So, no paradise for gay people, actually, not to mention lesbians and bisexual folk.
In Skala, you get the more optimistic, the all-tolerant version of this, of course.
Another fallacy is the false dichotomy between the “white” quasi-Mediterranean culture of Skala and “barbarians” of colour. It’s worse than triggering; it’s, intentionally or not, racist. Do we need to perpetuate the myth of civilised white people vs. non-white s*vages who are additionally slaveholders? Is such a portrayal righteous in the face of our global history? And it’s especially sad when you see such things in the series which in some aspects was progressive beyond its times.
But the funniest thing is that our ancient—and even medieval—world didn’t look like that.
Mediterranean people didn’t consider themselves a separate race from, let’s say, Nubians (WE SHOULD remember about Nubian civilization, really) and Phoenicians alike. They were aware that people differ in complexion but they didn’t take a racial measure from it. Not to mention that they were culturally closer to the murtiracial Egypt than to pale Germans and Britons. They called barbarians light and dark-skinned people alike. Neither did they fetishize eventual differences between themselves and African and Middle Eastern people. And speaking of slavery, it was the practice of many cultures beyond skin shade. Really.
Lyn Flewelling resolves it otherwise, though. She presents Zengati people as dark-skinned slave-traders and slave-holders who pursue the light-skinned quasi-elves. She also presents Plenimarans, the foes of the Skalans, as sorcerous and authocratic, and she gives a more nuanced image of them only in the last book in the series.
Such images are worse than uncanny and disturbing. They are harmful.
It’s not so surprising, though, when one analyses another aspect of The Nightrunner series—supposedly, a progressive aspect, but only at first sight.
It’s about women and their role.
Skala is a matriarchy ruled by Queens, you see. In this country, women can be soldiers, commanders, magicians, and so on, and people are perfectly fine with it.
We actually meet those female commanders and magicians through the course of the series; sometimes, we are given their POVs, too. What the problem is, then?
In comparison to Alex&Seregil&their male buddies, those “strong” women are on the backstage. They do empowering things, why not. But it happens behind the scene too often. It is also worth of notice that while they are women who like house-running in the books (such as Kari, the wife of one of the said buddies), there is no male character contradicting stereotypical gender roles. As usual, women are “empowered” through being “not like other girls”. Men, meanwhile, stay your stock Manly Guys sprinkled with musical skills or courtesy for the guise of breaking stereotypes.
It doesn’t mean that The Nightrunner series is particularly toxic. It just means that it hasn’t aged well on the level of diversity and gender roles. Nevertheless, there are good and captivating elements to those books. The way Flewelling describes city life is vivid and convincing, and the relations and dynamics between the characters sound true. There is also the peculiar high-fantasy atmosphere which has been drawn out in the series and which is easy to evoke, based on some cliches as it is.
The whole thing about The Nightrunner series is that you can genuinely appreciate it, why not. But please, do not stay blind to its drawbacks.
Left Hand of Fiction 