LGBTQ literature in Mexico

It’s evident that the 70s have proven to be a watershed at least in regards to civil life.Even so, these works predominantly dealt with masculine homosexuality; female authors and lesbian themes have seen far less representation,[5] despite the notable exceptions of the novels Amora by Rosamaría Roffiel and Infinita ("Infinite") by Ethel Krauze.

Salvador Novo’s (1904–1974) La estatua de sal ("The Salt Statue") was not published in its entirety until 1998, but its content had appeared in journalistic articles and fragments starting in 1945.

The most explicit is El tercer Fausto, a short theatrical piece in the volume Los diálogos, which contained two other works, originally published in French in 1936.

Our protagonist is closer to the figure of the homophilic "masculine" just as he was disseminated, among others, by the French magazine Arcadie.In 1962, Juan Vincente Melo published his story Los Amigos ("The Friends"), which was full of subtle homoeroticism.

Teruel seems to establish the thesis that homosexual love is measured by adventure, by frivolities, by an absolute lack of emotional stability.The year 1969 saw the publication of Después de todo ("After Everything") by José Ceballos Maldonado, an author from Uruapan.

The novel, told from two locations—the provinces and Mexico City—is the story of a man who defines his essence based on criticism and established double standards, who only follows orders.

He took great interest in studying and disseminating the work and life of Los Contemporáneos, a group of Mexican modernists and a magazine of the same name, so he told the story of male chauvinist persecution and homophobia that they suffered at the hands of the Stridentists and the muralists in the book Amor perdido ("Lost Love," 1977).

[7] Heriberto Yépez synthesized Monsiváis’ contribution towards gay visibility in Mexico, stating:[18] The general inheritance that Monsiváis passes on to us is a magnificent gay diction: the proper nouns like Patafísica de las Costumbres; the use of garlic for relaxation; the spelling like choreography; the grammar like an anagram; the style like a parade of fashion, moods, media, fears, verbal mutes; the moral demons converted into gestures; the good behavior of the social-Me disrupted by the promiscuous interruption of voices speaking all in one inter-text; the mockery of idiomatic conventions and the feast of ostentatious intertextual appropriations, in sum, the exhibitionistm of difference displayed for a strict comedic actor and artificial irritation (circus, somersault, theater) that extra-demonstrates its ideological defiance and linguistic spectacle against High Society and the Enormous Norms.

Every time that Monsiváis writes, the Spanish language comes out of the closet.Monstaváis was later honored with gesture of recognition for gay visibility when the LGBT flag was placed over his coffin in the Palacio de Bellas Artes in Mexico in 2010.

[2] Others point to the 1978 publication of El vampiro de la colonia Roma by Luis Zapata Quiroz as the start of queer literature in Mexico.

El vampiro de la colonia Roma was supposed to be quite an event and, in the words of the academic León Guillermo Gutiérrez, it shed light on:[4] The hypocrisy of Mexican society, in which a lot of effort had been taken to hide in the corner of the closet: the practical, everyday life of homosexuality in all social spheres.

Zapata does not conform with coming out of the closet, he takes it and travels by foot, car, bus, or motorcycle through the streets, avenues, parks, restaurants, and movie theaters of the big city and other latitudes of the country’s geography.In the 1970s, three important stories with homosexual themes appeared: Mapache ("Raccoon," 1975) by Jorge Arturo Ojeda, Los zapatos de la princesa ("The Princess’s Shoes," 1978) by Guillermo Samperio and Siete veces el sueño ("Seven Times the Dream," 1979) by Luis Arturo Ramos.

[2] This decade also saw increased circulation of works in Spanish by gay authors (with the tactics of the so-called Latin American Boom), like the Argentine Manuel Puig, the Colombian Gustavo Álvarez Gardeazábal, the Chilean José Donoso, or the Cuban Reinaldo Arenas.

José Dimayuga won multiple prizes for his theatrical work Afectuosamente, su comadre ("Affectionately, Your Godmother," 1992), a comedy about a young transvestite and a school teacher.

Some of his notable works are Laredo Song (1997), a book set in the environment around Monterrey and La dama sonámbula, which won the Nuevo León Prize in Literature in 2006.

[25] The novel tells the story of friendship and clandestine love between Pablo Aguirre, revolutionary general in Álvaro Obregón's army, and Hugo Estrada, and a relationship ultimately destroyed because of internalized homophobia.

[26] For the American researcher Dieter Ingenschay, Por debajo del agua demonstrates, "the permanent relevance of a subject (gay subculture) that remains, in many senses, unexplored in the region.

"[27] In 2004, Fernando Zamora returned with the novel Triángulo de amor y muerte ("Love and Death Triangle," 2004) in which he parodied another literary genre (in this case, noir to ridicule the cliché of the macho Mexican).

[29] In 2007, gay Yucatecan writer Will Rodríguez published Pulpo en su tinta y otras formas de morir ("Octopus in its Ink and Other Ways to Die").

[32] Tryno Maldonado published Temporada de caza para el león negro ("Black Lion Hunting Season," Anagrama, 2009), a novel about a successful painter, Golo, told by his lover.

According to Fidel Reyes Rodríguez, the novel:[36] ... is the chronic pain and sentimentality of a generation, of an era; it's a song to friendship and disloyalty; it's a cry of horror before the fleetingness of things, of life.

It is a coming-of-age novel that relates the loss of innocence of the main character, who is in a religious institution and suffering from a crisis of absolute faith and becoming aware of his own body.

[22] In 2014, the journalist Guillermo Osorno published Tengo que morir todas las noches ("I Have to Die Every Night"), set in the 1980s and centered on the Gay bar El Nueve, located on London Street in Zona Rosa, Mexico City, one of the pillars of Mexican counterculture in this era.

The publication of her novel Crema de vainilla ("Vanilla Cream," 2014), in particular, is considered a key moment in Mexican lesbian literature, although the story, which follows the relationship between two women and shows the their violent sexual practices, also caused a controversy.

[48] Works by gay authors are also in wide circulation in Mexico, like the Peruvian Jaime Bayly (No se lo digas a nadie) or the Columbian Fernando Vallejo (La virgen de los sicarios and El Desbarrancadero).

Its first titles were works by Uruguayans Alfredo Fressia and William Johnston and planned to publish Mexican authors like Sergio Loo and Juan Carlos Bautista.