Sexuality is the basis of personality development, and a society that respects sexuality will create a thriving, productive, collectivist, activist, and creative society. Although the Supreme Court of India struck down the same-sex marriage bill in 2023 due to the rebellion of the LGBTQ community, the court insisted on giving the LGBTQ community several other rights, including protection from discrimination, the right to choose a partner, the right to intimate companionship, and the right to adopt children. However, when we listen to and read the stories of the queer community, we find that these rights are frequently and continually violated in India.
The mental health of the LGBTQ community in India is hurting and suffering, legally and emotionally. They are young, active and under intense scrutiny and harsh reprimands, so they are constantly in conflict. What is permissible and what is not, how to present themselves to the authorities, family, friends and workplaces, what India accepts as permissible and what is still rejected, all these are uphill battles that are played out daily in courts, universities and living rooms.
But it is comforting to know that books are healers, friends, give you community, courage and closeness no matter who you are. As a reader, I am always looking for books and concepts that take me away from myself and bring me back to myself, give me humor, joy and empathy for people who are not me. As a feminist writer, I may refer to myself with she/her pronouns and be engaged in a monogamous heterosexual relationship, but understanding sexuality through movies and books and how it shapes society, people and communities has helped me to advocate for them, to march and move through life beyond countries, rulebooks and civil rights.
So here are my top ten LGBTQ books, many of which have been made into films, for anyone who needs them.
On Earth, we are temporarily beautiful, Ocean Vuong: I personally love Ocean Vuong’s writing. He is also a poet and his words are tangible. This book is written in the first person by a Vietnamese poet, and although the “Little Dog”, his affair with Trevor, and the expanse of his writing are sometimes difficult to understand, it is worth reading every word of the alphabet. He makes homosexuality beautiful and engrossing for the reader, not kitschy, but as natural as possible. The way he frames every page, the politics of sexuality and the country he lives in, the words he writes to his mother Rose and his grandmother Lan, it feels like he is speaking to my grandmother in a letter. I have taken a lot of inspiration from Ocean in my own writing. He is a favorite across genres of words.
Giovanni’s Room, James Baldwin: James Baldwin is one of my favorite writers of the civil rights movement. His words are powerful, they call to mind, they shake your concentration, whether it’s the racial conflicts he fought or his works on sexuality and labor. Baldwin bravely calls to human consciousness and makes us look at ourselves. The story is about the relationship between David and Giovanni, David’s struggle with what he should be and what society expects of him, the symbolism of the paintings of men and women, the roses he adorns, why Giovanni can’t give him what he gave him, whether it’s society or his own possessions. Friends have criticized him for running away from the real issues of black history, as if white people were sitting on his shoulders and telling him what to write, but this early book is one of his best works.
I Give You the Sun, Jandy NelsonI love young adult novels and am a huge fan of melt-in-your-mouth beach reads. I love how Jandi writes boldly and artfully presents the story of twins Noah and Brian; one a cool art freak, the other a baggy-clothed slob trying to get by in life; how they fit in; their intimacy, what emerges over time; their breakdown; their poetic delivery; Noah’s love for Brian, the boy who lives next door; and his years of figuring out how to express his sexuality and loneliness in this small world. This book may not be a literary monument, but it is an intimate story of siblings, of family, of relationships that crumble with age, and how we reminisce afterwards. Sexuality issues are inextricably linked to family ties, and books that tell the story through that prism are always wonderful.
A Small Life, Haniya Yanigahara: I have a few friends who I have remained close with since childhood. Our friendships have gone through ups and downs, but they are made up of the best memories we have ever had. How friends grow, take detours, switch places, reconnect through tragedies and ties – ideologically, socially, economically, and in terms of where they belong. All of this can be felt and seen in Haniya Yanigahara’s excellent work of fiction. It’s not about gay men or homosexuality, but one of the characters is in an alliance with a man, and that challenges his sexuality and the impact it has on the development of their friendship throughout the book.
How to Fight for Your Life, by Said Jones: I love Black storytelling. Honest, true, and forthright. This is Syed Jones’s self-discovery, coming-of-age story of growing up and being Black, gay, and young in the South. I love how Syed traces the voice of his sexuality back to his childhood, and the sense of loneliness and brokenness he feels in finding his way in a heterocentric world. His stories of growing up in a single-parent home with a Buddhist mother, and the key roles that race, sexuality, and identity play in placing us in this complicated, systemically disjointed world. This is great for young people who are trying to discover their sexuality.
Sister Outsider, Audre Lorde: Audre Lorde is another powerful voice, a black lesbian mother poet and writer. I am moved by the strength of every word she puts to paper. All of her work is saturated with her identity, but this work, especially the 15 essays from 1967 to 1984, explores race, gender, and sexuality, and through her poetry, she shines a light on and empowers underrepresented writers and women on the outside, empowering them to turn inward with strength and grace. She claims to be their sister yet outsider, claims the erotic as feminine power, and mobilizes women of color, both her own and from the margins, to challenge the norms set by white feminism, reclaim power over their bodies and lives, and form bonds with others. Every woman should read Audre Lorde. No matter your sexuality or status, she is a must-read.
Call Me By Your Name by Andre Aciman: I love this movie. The romance, the deep desire for Italy described in the book, and the young innocence of Elio, who lusts after the writer in the family’s Italian villa. The film is beautiful, but the script is even better, how Aciman portrayed the budding romance, the gentle outpourings of sexual desire and sensation between Elio and the older man, the peach-colored penetration, the passion, the obsession, the love. It portrays heartbreak so viscerally, you can feel the boy’s heart falling into your palm. That’s what a good script does, making the reader despair, wanting to participate. Elio enjoys women, but he’s especially attracted to men, leaving us speechless and wanting Aciman to keep going. It gives homosexuality a freshness and beauty that we love.
Jeffrey Eugenides, Middlesex: To be honest, as someone who only glances, reads, and scrolls, I didn’t know what to expect from this book. Through Jeffrey Eugenides, we meet Calliope Stephanides, a girl who discovers she is intersex. I have worked with kids who, from a young age, began to feel like they didn’t belong in their body, changed gender, changed their identity and their name. This book is interesting. Callie grows up as a girl, has her first love, goes through puberty, and then slowly realizes that she is neither Callie nor a man, somewhere in between, hence the name Middlesex, and then has surgery and slowly transitions to Callie along with everything else. When discovering their sexuality, many people are confused, not knowing if they are rebelling or finding their true self, not knowing if this is where they belong or what they want sexually and romantically, and often confused. This book is perfect for honestly portraying a young girl seeking physical and sexual freedom and a journey of self-discovery, a theme in many LGBTQ books.
Calypso, David Sedaris: If I were a man, I’d want to be David Sedaris. I love his sassy, candid writing, his sarcasm, as if he’s always gently reprimanding us. I love this book, and all his books. I wanted to be him, write like him, experience the world like him, be a misanthrope like him, be Greek like him, stab homosexuality like a pie. I can’t write much more about this collection of essays that explores the beauty of middle age, death, and observation, but I urge you to give it a try for yourself and discover the great joys we miss because we’re not him.
The Miseducation of Cameron Post, Emily M. DanforthThere are many books in this genre, but the last one I’ll introduce is a beautiful work by Emily M. Danforth. The movie is also amazing. It tells the story of young Cameron Post discovering her sexuality and living with her aunt after her parents die, who tries to “fix” her. None of this is new, but the beauty of the Lomography photos and descriptions used in the book and the movie make you think that her work has no purpose, but just tells the journey of a girl who is sent to a camp where pastors’ sons cure gays. I love YA fiction because it’s real, believable, and sentimental. I wish I could be young again and grow up with the characters I read. This book is a rule-breaker without any excitement, and it draws the reader in immediately.
By Devangana Mishra, mental health activist and CEO and founder of Brain Bristol
The mental health of the LGBTQ community in India is hurting and suffering, legally and emotionally. They are young, active and under intense scrutiny and harsh reprimands, so they are constantly in conflict. What is permissible and what is not, how to present themselves to the authorities, family, friends and workplaces, what India accepts as permissible and what is still rejected, all these are uphill battles that are played out daily in courts, universities and living rooms.
But it is comforting to know that books are healers, friends, give you community, courage and closeness no matter who you are. As a reader, I am always looking for books and concepts that take me away from myself and bring me back to myself, give me humor, joy and empathy for people who are not me. As a feminist writer, I may refer to myself with she/her pronouns and be engaged in a monogamous heterosexual relationship, but understanding sexuality through movies and books and how it shapes society, people and communities has helped me to advocate for them, to march and move through life beyond countries, rulebooks and civil rights.
So here are my top ten LGBTQ books, many of which have been made into films, for anyone who needs them.
On Earth, we are temporarily beautiful, Ocean Vuong: I personally love Ocean Vuong’s writing. He is also a poet and his words are tangible. This book is written in the first person by a Vietnamese poet, and although the “Little Dog”, his affair with Trevor, and the expanse of his writing are sometimes difficult to understand, it is worth reading every word of the alphabet. He makes homosexuality beautiful and engrossing for the reader, not kitschy, but as natural as possible. The way he frames every page, the politics of sexuality and the country he lives in, the words he writes to his mother Rose and his grandmother Lan, it feels like he is speaking to my grandmother in a letter. I have taken a lot of inspiration from Ocean in my own writing. He is a favorite across genres of words.
Giovanni’s Room, James Baldwin: James Baldwin is one of my favorite writers of the civil rights movement. His words are powerful, they call to mind, they shake your concentration, whether it’s the racial conflicts he fought or his works on sexuality and labor. Baldwin bravely calls to human consciousness and makes us look at ourselves. The story is about the relationship between David and Giovanni, David’s struggle with what he should be and what society expects of him, the symbolism of the paintings of men and women, the roses he adorns, why Giovanni can’t give him what he gave him, whether it’s society or his own possessions. Friends have criticized him for running away from the real issues of black history, as if white people were sitting on his shoulders and telling him what to write, but this early book is one of his best works.
I Give You the Sun, Jandy NelsonI love young adult novels and am a huge fan of melt-in-your-mouth beach reads. I love how Jandi writes boldly and artfully presents the story of twins Noah and Brian; one a cool art freak, the other a baggy-clothed slob trying to get by in life; how they fit in; their intimacy, what emerges over time; their breakdown; their poetic delivery; Noah’s love for Brian, the boy who lives next door; and his years of figuring out how to express his sexuality and loneliness in this small world. This book may not be a literary monument, but it is an intimate story of siblings, of family, of relationships that crumble with age, and how we reminisce afterwards. Sexuality issues are inextricably linked to family ties, and books that tell the story through that prism are always wonderful.
A Small Life, Haniya Yanigahara: I have a few friends who I have remained close with since childhood. Our friendships have gone through ups and downs, but they are made up of the best memories we have ever had. How friends grow, take detours, switch places, reconnect through tragedies and ties – ideologically, socially, economically, and in terms of where they belong. All of this can be felt and seen in Haniya Yanigahara’s excellent work of fiction. It’s not about gay men or homosexuality, but one of the characters is in an alliance with a man, and that challenges his sexuality and the impact it has on the development of their friendship throughout the book.
How to Fight for Your Life, by Said Jones: I love Black storytelling. Honest, true, and forthright. This is Syed Jones’s self-discovery, coming-of-age story of growing up and being Black, gay, and young in the South. I love how Syed traces the voice of his sexuality back to his childhood, and the sense of loneliness and brokenness he feels in finding his way in a heterocentric world. His stories of growing up in a single-parent home with a Buddhist mother, and the key roles that race, sexuality, and identity play in placing us in this complicated, systemically disjointed world. This is great for young people who are trying to discover their sexuality.
Sister Outsider, Audre Lorde: Audre Lorde is another powerful voice, a black lesbian mother poet and writer. I am moved by the strength of every word she puts to paper. All of her work is saturated with her identity, but this work, especially the 15 essays from 1967 to 1984, explores race, gender, and sexuality, and through her poetry, she shines a light on and empowers underrepresented writers and women on the outside, empowering them to turn inward with strength and grace. She claims to be their sister yet outsider, claims the erotic as feminine power, and mobilizes women of color, both her own and from the margins, to challenge the norms set by white feminism, reclaim power over their bodies and lives, and form bonds with others. Every woman should read Audre Lorde. No matter your sexuality or status, she is a must-read.
Call Me By Your Name by Andre Aciman: I love this movie. The romance, the deep desire for Italy described in the book, and the young innocence of Elio, who lusts after the writer in the family’s Italian villa. The film is beautiful, but the script is even better, how Aciman portrayed the budding romance, the gentle outpourings of sexual desire and sensation between Elio and the older man, the peach-colored penetration, the passion, the obsession, the love. It portrays heartbreak so viscerally, you can feel the boy’s heart falling into your palm. That’s what a good script does, making the reader despair, wanting to participate. Elio enjoys women, but he’s especially attracted to men, leaving us speechless and wanting Aciman to keep going. It gives homosexuality a freshness and beauty that we love.
Jeffrey Eugenides, Middlesex: To be honest, as someone who only glances, reads, and scrolls, I didn’t know what to expect from this book. Through Jeffrey Eugenides, we meet Calliope Stephanides, a girl who discovers she is intersex. I have worked with kids who, from a young age, began to feel like they didn’t belong in their body, changed gender, changed their identity and their name. This book is interesting. Callie grows up as a girl, has her first love, goes through puberty, and then slowly realizes that she is neither Callie nor a man, somewhere in between, hence the name Middlesex, and then has surgery and slowly transitions to Callie along with everything else. When discovering their sexuality, many people are confused, not knowing if they are rebelling or finding their true self, not knowing if this is where they belong or what they want sexually and romantically, and often confused. This book is perfect for honestly portraying a young girl seeking physical and sexual freedom and a journey of self-discovery, a theme in many LGBTQ books.
Calypso, David Sedaris: If I were a man, I’d want to be David Sedaris. I love his sassy, candid writing, his sarcasm, as if he’s always gently reprimanding us. I love this book, and all his books. I wanted to be him, write like him, experience the world like him, be a misanthrope like him, be Greek like him, stab homosexuality like a pie. I can’t write much more about this collection of essays that explores the beauty of middle age, death, and observation, but I urge you to give it a try for yourself and discover the great joys we miss because we’re not him.
The Miseducation of Cameron Post, Emily M. DanforthThere are many books in this genre, but the last one I’ll introduce is a beautiful work by Emily M. Danforth. The movie is also amazing. It tells the story of young Cameron Post discovering her sexuality and living with her aunt after her parents die, who tries to “fix” her. None of this is new, but the beauty of the Lomography photos and descriptions used in the book and the movie make you think that her work has no purpose, but just tells the journey of a girl who is sent to a camp where pastors’ sons cure gays. I love YA fiction because it’s real, believable, and sentimental. I wish I could be young again and grow up with the characters I read. This book is a rule-breaker without any excitement, and it draws the reader in immediately.
By Devangana Mishra, mental health activist and CEO and founder of Brain Bristol
