Straight-Washing: The Erasure of Queerness in Queer Media

By: Amanda Kang

In recent years, the rise of male-on-male or M/M media has dominated the queer romance genre in books, movies, and tv series. Outwardly, critics laud this form of media as groundbreaking representation that centers queer stories and creators. However, behind the scenes, these works are missing many important aspects that would actually deem them meaningful to the gay community. Most notably, many are not created by gay men. It is often straight, cis women who are the authors, producers, or directors of projects that explicitly seek to serve as a form of queer representation. The resulting straight gaze imposed upon these M/M stories is more than just uncomfortable or problematic. It represents a gross fetishization and projection of straightness onto queer bodies for the pleasure of heterosexual consumers.

As to why straight women create M/M fiction, Laura Baumbach, owner of MLR Press, a print publisher of gay erotic romance and fiction, gave a very straight-forward answer. “One man is good, two are better. Hotter, more fascinating to women who read this genre” (Lambda Literary). 

A clear example of this dynamic is in the movie Red White and Royal Blue. The introduction of the two male romantic leads is mediated through their presumed straight female counterparts.

The two women immediately begin talking about the attractiveness of the other man imposing a straight female gaze upon the gay characters in the film. Positioned as “audience surrogates,” these characters dictate the initial perspective of the viewers. Consequently, the film’s opening appeal relies on the assumption that its primary audience is composed of straight women who seek to objectify the male characters.

The objectifying straight female gaze is especially palpable in gay romance novels written by straight women. Gay characters exude familiar masculine traits, portrayed as desirable to all genders, especially other female characters Take this excerpt from NYT Bestseller, A Guy Walks Into My Bar, written by popular LGBTQ romance author and straight woman, Lauren Blakely. To introduce the gay romantic lead, Blakely writes,

“He strides in [with] an effortless swagger to his movements. His large build is flanked by two women who giggle and laugh, already a little tipsy by the look of it. With inked arms and a trim beard, he has that rugged and dangerous quality she adores” (Blakely, 2).

The “effortless swagger” and “rugged and dangerous quality” reflects an idealized image of traditional masculinity. Positioned alongside two women, they function as indicators of the character’s desirability within the female gaze. Therefore, this character’s desirability is dependent on their proximity to straight women’s sexual fantasies, aiming to elicit a flirtatious response from readers, mirroring the reaction of the women in the passage.

While the unrestricted freedom to romanticize the male physique certainly contributes to the appeal of M/M, the obsession with the genre goes deeper than simply objectifying.

In M/M, homosexuality is conflated with the desire to attract and please a man. Straight women authors will approach a gay character with the belief that if the character enjoys penetration and activities such as personal grooming, traditionally associated with heterosexual women, that character is essentially a straight woman with different genitalia. This concept also helps explain why straight women are disinterested in lesbian or other queer love stories. At its core, M/M are not queer love stories, they are conduits of straight women’s romantic, emotional, and sexual fantasies.

One example of sexual projection is found in “The Song of Achilles” by Madeline Miller. This novel reimagines the tragic love story between Greek mythological hero, Achilles, and his same-sex partner, Patroculous. While there are sex scenes throughout, they remain elusive and unclear. In one such scene, Miller writes,

“He went still as I took him in my hand, soft as the delicate velvet of petals. I knew Achilles’ golden skin and the curve of his neck, the crooks of his elbows. I knew how pleasure looked on him. Our bodies cupped each other like hands” (Miller, 91).

These scenes draw from fanfiction tropes, creating an overidealized interpretation gay encounters more aligned with heterosexual sex scenes than queer ones. Clearly written by a straight woman from a straight audience, the sex scenes remain very inexplicit and idealized, using descriptive language to hide the messier aspects of sex. The book also sacrifices historical accuracy, portraying Achilles as uninterested in women throughout his teenage years and suggesting the two characters took each other’s virginities, further prioritizing romanticism over authenticity.

Similarly, Red White and Royal Blue also leans into the trope of romanticizing gay sex. In a Variety interview, Director Matthew Lopez shared his initial intention to depict the specifics of gay intimacy including elements such as using lubricant or taking PrEP for HIV prevention. However, these moments were cut in favor of a more romanticized version of gay sex, similar to fanfiction or smut smut authored by straight women. Despite having a gay male director, the movie still misses many key opportunities to establish a relatable connection with a queer audience. The film is keenly aware of who is consumesM/M media, prioritizing palatability over authenticity. Ultimately, we are left with a sex scene with all the hallmarks of Wattpad fanfiction without any genuine effort connected with the community it claims to represent.

Catering gay media to straight women may seem inconsequential, but its consequences are already evident in Japanese culture. The Yaoi or Boys Love genre created in the 1970s, features male protagonists in same-sex relationships. Despite its many male characters, the genre is printed in shōjo manga magazines for girls and young women. Rather than breaking down barriers,Yaoi portrays gay men as sexually obsessed and gay relationships as falling into the traditional feminine-masculine power dynamics. Furthermore, it often incorporates harmful plot devices such as rape, coercion, drug abuse, homophobia, and suicide to drive themes of lust and desire. Rather than welcoming gay men to literary and societal spaces, the genre perpetuates their isolation by portraying them as one-dimensional objects of pleasure for women. 

Already many of the examples previously introduced romanticize queer tragedy and suffering to make romantic relationships appear more enticingly forbidden. Incredibly harmful concepts such as homophobia, self-harm, and violence are treated as little more than romantic trials and tribulations. This demonstrates the true danger of the straight-female gaze to trivialize the real-life dangers that queer individuals face every day.

In the end, it will be queer communities that will be caught in the crossfire of M/M media as its straight creators continue to luxuriate in the exploitation of gay bodies, safe from any consequences. While I firmly believe the female gaze is essential in creating media, that is not an excuse to claim queer stories as tools for sexual projection. In the end, the misguided attempt of queer representation that is M/M extinguishes any authenticity from both perspectives.