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ysabetwordsmithI came across this fascinating article today, "The Politics of the Desert Romance." Now of course that title has to grab my attention, because one of my all-time favorite settings is the Whispering Sands desert. This setting shares a lot with our Middle Eastern cultures (historic and modern) but there are enough fundamental differences that it couldn't fairly be called Arabic or Persian or Sumerian, etc. Still, it's a desert culture, and it does rather run to romance plots and subplots, if one defines the term rather loosely in comparison to the mainstream genre. So I couldn't resist making a few comparisons ...
Masterful? Okay, that pretty much comes with the rank of bandit-lord. Desert men of other ranks may or may not have this trait. They also may or may not get laid; rank or lack thereof doesn't guarantee sexual success or failure, though it may help or hinder a given pursuit depending on the intended's taste. Over-sexualized? Technically, a matter of personal taste. Practically, the bandit-lords are not necessarily the characters getting the most "action." Do I portray them as sexy, though? Depends on the character; some are, some aren't. They can be hot, pathetic, obnoxious, whatever ... like any men.
Masculinity? The bandit men, and especially the more powerful ones -- plus some but not all of the decadent men -- often are what we'd consider hyper-masculine, sometimes to the point of testosterone poisoning. But they are not monolithic or one-dimensional, and I'm going to tick them off severely by spilling one of their big secrets. This one took me years to uncover, but it was worth the effort:
aajiret (noun) – In decadent use, means “men’s theater.” These are open only to adult males … so they can watch romantic tragedies and cry in private where nobody will notice. And then wine and food are served afterwards, still with the house lights dimmed, so that they have time to recover and nobody can see that they’ve been crying. Most outlanders, who aren’t let inside, and women usually think these are bawdy theaters; they aren’t. These usually appear in the cities, but occasionally you find traveling ones at a trading post.
Relationship between a desert man and a fair-skinned foreign woman? Nope. That doesn't mean I won't ever find one, but I haven't yet. There are very few real foreigners in the Whispering Sands, which is one reason why I have stories with all brown people in them, that aren't actually stories-of-race. There is one very important imported male character very early on. There's a darrow woman -- a dark elf -- who appears tangentially in a scene sketch a great deal later. There's a red elf woman who crosses the mountains from another Southern Continent territory, but she is so not a romantic figure. That's about it.
arniyyeh (noun) – In decadent use, means “a rich woman,” with connotations ranging from “trophy wife” to “princess” to “patroness.” Whereas an irin (“rich man”) is always a player, an arniyyeh can be either player or prize – and woe betide the person who mistakes the one for the other.
huliyyeh (noun) – In bandit use, means something like “sugar-wife.” This is a woman married for her beauty, love, comfort, or other gentle and self-indulgent reasons. Often a bandit man who has already chosen a tuzayya (“salt-wife”) for practical concerns will later add a huliyyeh to make their tent more pleasant; and almost always he cherishes both of them equally, though perhaps in somewhat different ways. Amal specifically went looking for this type of woman as his third wife, after he returned from Waterjewel.
tuzayya (noun) – In bandit use, means something like “salt-wife,” a woman married for her wisdom, spunk, physical prowess, or other practical concerns. An ambitious and smart young man will take a tuzayya as his first wife, as Amal chose Thurayya. Later he may add a huliyyeh (“sugar-wife”) for more indulgent reasons.
zorbaniyyeh (noun) -- In bandit use, a female warrior. It derives from the verb zorlamak, “to force” or “to try to open” and especially “to try to open a gate by means of force.”
That's just a handful of terms from a very large vocabulary. Desert women can be plain or lovely, smart or dumb, fierce or gentle; or any combination of those and other features. They might or might not take the lead in a story. They might or might not be sexually attractive to a particular other character of any sex/gender. The exact power balance among gender roles can vary radically from one tribe to another, and over time. Extant examples are diverse.
The personal can be political in my stories. Most of them are probably more subtle than seems to be average, though. About as far as I've gone is the underlying theme of "Never let anyone stop you from pursuing your dreams" in "Peacock Hour." What is considered modern, primitive, barbaric, civilized, effective, or disastrous is often a matter of contention among my characters -- and rarely a matter of one side being entirely wrong or right. Sometimes there isn't an ideal solution.
Terrorism? Now here is where it gets interesting. The Tazha openly, famously practice terrorism as a means of keeping bandits from stealing members of their tribe. They have an extremely brutal, well-deserved reputation for it and they are rarely crossed. But they use it exclusively in a defensive manner, never offensive. Waterjewel is regarded with deep wariness that similarly means people rarely bother them, although that's based on their exotic ideals as much as the fact that, while they'd rather not fight, they are highly effective if necessary. The decadents have had their share of crazy rulers bent on a reign of terror, like Khaafid, who is probably the stupidest villain in my stable. The span of history I have for the Whispering Sands is over a thousand years deep, though, so it's a very different context than what you'd see in a one-off story.
One of the similarities -- which is frequently overlooked by mainstream writers -- is the lack of monolithic identity. The Middle East is an intricate place with a deep history, not one cultural group but many. So too the Whispering Sands has many groups, which do not all function or identify the same way, especially over a long time period. In some contexts, women are oppressed; in others there are almost no gender-based restrictions on what people can do. Characters dissatisfied with what they are offered in their home culture may decide to grin and bear it, shake it up, leave it, introduce someone exotic into it, or dismantle the entire thing and build something totally new from scratch (this last has happened at least twice: Waterjewel and the Tazha). One of the things visible in "Peacock Hour" is the shifting balance of women's roles, obligations, and freedoms as society evolves -- expressed through the experiences of the women in a given family. It is one glimpse, a snapshot in time, of the perennial give-and-take negotiation across the genders in that setting.
So, on the whole, this looks like I ran over a stereotype, backed up, ran over it again, and rode merrily away without particularly noticing what I'd run over or stopping to see whether it was actually dead or just severely maimed.
Finally, on a totally different tangent, I noticed something interesting about this particular dynamic as described in the original article. It's one of the very rare trends that pairs white women with men of color. One very well-known dynamic is the tendency of white men to help themselves to women of color, with or without consent, and then throw a giant tantrum if anyone tries to do the opposite. This is generally considered racist and sexist behavior: the privileged white males taking advantage of "someone else's women" while withholding "their own" women. Here we've got white women and men of color, and it's still considered a racist problem. But if writers pair only members of same race, that leaves an opening for accusations of supporting the idea that interracial relationships are somehow wrong, which is yet another racist issue. You perceive the dilemma: there are no "safe" pairings.
My take on this? Let your characters get involved however they want to. If they do something catastrophically stupid, use your authorial leverage to hint why that's a bad idea. Be aware of the cultural background(s) in which you write, and from which you draw your inspiration. Don't let that stuff constrain your creativity, though. Remember that words have power; use them responsibly and have fun. In the end, it's all about telling the stories that need to be told.
The word “sheik,” originally a term of respect referring to a Muslim religious leader or an elder of a community or family, suddenly took on new connotations of irresistible, ruthless, masterful, and over‐sexualized masculinity in the West—before ending up as a brand of condoms in America by 1931.Probably the closest parallel in my setting would be Oldren-Asul or "bandit-lord." (The population variously consists of the decadents in the cities, the bandit tribes wandering the desert, plus the Tazha and Waterjewel.) Let's see, irresistible? No, very tempting some of them, but scene sketches to date include resistance. Ruthless? Variable depending on character, with the majority being willing to do anything to protect their tribe. I don't think they qualify as the most ruthless: that would be Khaafid (a decadent ruler) among villains, and certain of the Tazha among the non-villains.
Masterful? Okay, that pretty much comes with the rank of bandit-lord. Desert men of other ranks may or may not have this trait. They also may or may not get laid; rank or lack thereof doesn't guarantee sexual success or failure, though it may help or hinder a given pursuit depending on the intended's taste. Over-sexualized? Technically, a matter of personal taste. Practically, the bandit-lords are not necessarily the characters getting the most "action." Do I portray them as sexy, though? Depends on the character; some are, some aren't. They can be hot, pathetic, obnoxious, whatever ... like any men.
Masculinity? The bandit men, and especially the more powerful ones -- plus some but not all of the decadent men -- often are what we'd consider hyper-masculine, sometimes to the point of testosterone poisoning. But they are not monolithic or one-dimensional, and I'm going to tick them off severely by spilling one of their big secrets. This one took me years to uncover, but it was worth the effort:
aajiret (noun) – In decadent use, means “men’s theater.” These are open only to adult males … so they can watch romantic tragedies and cry in private where nobody will notice. And then wine and food are served afterwards, still with the house lights dimmed, so that they have time to recover and nobody can see that they’ve been crying. Most outlanders, who aren’t let inside, and women usually think these are bawdy theaters; they aren’t. These usually appear in the cities, but occasionally you find traveling ones at a trading post.
But as the sheik was transformed into a sexual fantasy for Western women, his female counterpart seemed to have been pushed aside. Sheikh romances generally depict the relationship "between an Arabian sheik or prince and a white Western (usually British or American) woman" (Taylor).A sexual fantasy for Western women? *ponder* Perhaps. That aspect hasn't been among the published versions yet, so I don't know how Western women would actually respond to my bandit-lord portrayals. I think some of the romantic poems have been published, though. Also consider that these could involve sexual fantasies for men, or people of other cultures, or anyone else who finds my writing steamy; not all of it is male/female focused. The biggest unpublished but finished piece of desertfic is actually male/male, and "Did You Get Your Answers Questioned?" from Genderflex is about a foreign man exploring Waterjewel's five-gender paradigm.
Relationship between a desert man and a fair-skinned foreign woman? Nope. That doesn't mean I won't ever find one, but I haven't yet. There are very few real foreigners in the Whispering Sands, which is one reason why I have stories with all brown people in them, that aren't actually stories-of-race. There is one very important imported male character very early on. There's a darrow woman -- a dark elf -- who appears tangentially in a scene sketch a great deal later. There's a red elf woman who crosses the mountains from another Southern Continent territory, but she is so not a romantic figure. That's about it.
Jessica Taylor adds that "the only position for an Arabian woman available in Orientalist discourse seemed to be that of harem occupant, a passive role which is unsuitable for the heroine of the novel, especially since it is a racialized role and the heroines are only ever racialized as ‘white’." Arab women may appear in these novels, but they generally do so as secondary characters. Although they may be given only limited opportunities to speak for themselves, they are not infrequently mentioned by the white heroines, for as Evelyn Bach notes,"Peacock Hour" is really the hera's story, which is primarily a space-race story about the construction of flying carpets and secondarily an exploration of evolving gender roles during a historic time when the culture is re-inventing itself. (Gender is one of the Big Deal issues in this setting, but they don't handle it quite the way our cultures do.) And her female relatives have significant roles to play; the guys don't get to have all the fun, although there is some attempt made for them to do so. Brown hera, check. Hareem occupant? There are some. I like hareem stories. But I don't tend to render them in a traditional fashion. Also, polyamory is considered normal, though not universal. This does not necessarily mean that these women are "passive" -- a few are, because that's a known trait, but most of the ones that interest me are capable of kicking serious ass. Let's have some more fun beating this to death with vocabulary:
arniyyeh (noun) – In decadent use, means “a rich woman,” with connotations ranging from “trophy wife” to “princess” to “patroness.” Whereas an irin (“rich man”) is always a player, an arniyyeh can be either player or prize – and woe betide the person who mistakes the one for the other.
huliyyeh (noun) – In bandit use, means something like “sugar-wife.” This is a woman married for her beauty, love, comfort, or other gentle and self-indulgent reasons. Often a bandit man who has already chosen a tuzayya (“salt-wife”) for practical concerns will later add a huliyyeh to make their tent more pleasant; and almost always he cherishes both of them equally, though perhaps in somewhat different ways. Amal specifically went looking for this type of woman as his third wife, after he returned from Waterjewel.
tuzayya (noun) – In bandit use, means something like “salt-wife,” a woman married for her wisdom, spunk, physical prowess, or other practical concerns. An ambitious and smart young man will take a tuzayya as his first wife, as Amal chose Thurayya. Later he may add a huliyyeh (“sugar-wife”) for more indulgent reasons.
zorbaniyyeh (noun) -- In bandit use, a female warrior. It derives from the verb zorlamak, “to force” or “to try to open” and especially “to try to open a gate by means of force.”
That's just a handful of terms from a very large vocabulary. Desert women can be plain or lovely, smart or dumb, fierce or gentle; or any combination of those and other features. They might or might not take the lead in a story. They might or might not be sexually attractive to a particular other character of any sex/gender. The exact power balance among gender roles can vary radically from one tribe to another, and over time. Extant examples are diverse.
In sheikh romances the personal is also quite clearly the political. As Amira Jarmakani has noted,
..."despite claims from romance readers and writers that these novels bear no relation to the actual Middle East, the threatening specter of the terrorist is very much present in these stories, many of which fixate on the sheikh’s efforts to modernize his country against the wishes of those characters presented as primitive and barbaric. (998)"
The personal can be political in my stories. Most of them are probably more subtle than seems to be average, though. About as far as I've gone is the underlying theme of "Never let anyone stop you from pursuing your dreams" in "Peacock Hour." What is considered modern, primitive, barbaric, civilized, effective, or disastrous is often a matter of contention among my characters -- and rarely a matter of one side being entirely wrong or right. Sometimes there isn't an ideal solution.
Terrorism? Now here is where it gets interesting. The Tazha openly, famously practice terrorism as a means of keeping bandits from stealing members of their tribe. They have an extremely brutal, well-deserved reputation for it and they are rarely crossed. But they use it exclusively in a defensive manner, never offensive. Waterjewel is regarded with deep wariness that similarly means people rarely bother them, although that's based on their exotic ideals as much as the fact that, while they'd rather not fight, they are highly effective if necessary. The decadents have had their share of crazy rulers bent on a reign of terror, like Khaafid, who is probably the stupidest villain in my stable. The span of history I have for the Whispering Sands is over a thousand years deep, though, so it's a very different context than what you'd see in a one-off story.
In addition, the hero often grants some of his immense political power to the heroine:I do have a handful of desert women whose status goes up when they marry; notably, Amal's wives hold considerable influence in their tribe. But that's on a smaller scale, and besides, he picked the first one as a competent partner to help establish his power base. (Ideally, a bandit-lord needs a very strong, smart, capable senior wife as a partner, because there's often a significant divide between the men's culture and the women's culture. She thus serves as one of the tribe's female leaders.) Farther down the line there's a fellow who decided that a good way to rebuild a smashed Empire would be to collect a large number of wives and concubines from all over, and rather quietly draw on them for political advice and practical skills. It was a cunning way to get the job done without being so conspicuous as to get people killed unnecessarily. However, most of my female characters who come to power get it on their own. They are business women, warriors, mages, adventurers, etc. rather than simply wives who married someone important.
Long before Western women even considered themselves as a group, let alone a group deprived of its rights, the Islamic woman had begun her emancipation. From the beginning of Islam, 1400 years ago, the Moslem woman was born with all the rights -cultural and spiritual - due a human being.One of the really huge differences between the Middle East and the Whispering Sands is: my desertfolk don't seem inclined to fight over religion. They have religions, but they don't consider that worth killing people over. Most of their fights are over resources such as land and water, sometimes over politics or other issues, and there have been some heated disputes over sex/gender. Oh, and they aren't terribly concerned about skin color either. They can be very tight, or flexible, about tribal ethnic identity depending on the tribe. (Some are quite consistent. Others, like Waterjewel, are a patchwork of skin tones. It also varies whether a tribe is all human, all elven, or a combination of both.) The palette is really gorgeous, from a kind of warm rosy cream to coffee colored. They are consistently baffled by some outlanders' obsession over skin colors.
One of the similarities -- which is frequently overlooked by mainstream writers -- is the lack of monolithic identity. The Middle East is an intricate place with a deep history, not one cultural group but many. So too the Whispering Sands has many groups, which do not all function or identify the same way, especially over a long time period. In some contexts, women are oppressed; in others there are almost no gender-based restrictions on what people can do. Characters dissatisfied with what they are offered in their home culture may decide to grin and bear it, shake it up, leave it, introduce someone exotic into it, or dismantle the entire thing and build something totally new from scratch (this last has happened at least twice: Waterjewel and the Tazha). One of the things visible in "Peacock Hour" is the shifting balance of women's roles, obligations, and freedoms as society evolves -- expressed through the experiences of the women in a given family. It is one glimpse, a snapshot in time, of the perennial give-and-take negotiation across the genders in that setting.
So, on the whole, this looks like I ran over a stereotype, backed up, ran over it again, and rode merrily away without particularly noticing what I'd run over or stopping to see whether it was actually dead or just severely maimed.
Finally, on a totally different tangent, I noticed something interesting about this particular dynamic as described in the original article. It's one of the very rare trends that pairs white women with men of color. One very well-known dynamic is the tendency of white men to help themselves to women of color, with or without consent, and then throw a giant tantrum if anyone tries to do the opposite. This is generally considered racist and sexist behavior: the privileged white males taking advantage of "someone else's women" while withholding "their own" women. Here we've got white women and men of color, and it's still considered a racist problem. But if writers pair only members of same race, that leaves an opening for accusations of supporting the idea that interracial relationships are somehow wrong, which is yet another racist issue. You perceive the dilemma: there are no "safe" pairings.
My take on this? Let your characters get involved however they want to. If they do something catastrophically stupid, use your authorial leverage to hint why that's a bad idea. Be aware of the cultural background(s) in which you write, and from which you draw your inspiration. Don't let that stuff constrain your creativity, though. Remember that words have power; use them responsibly and have fun. In the end, it's all about telling the stories that need to be told.
