This book is about ardent Korean female fans of gay representation in the media, their status in contemporary Korean society, their relationship with other groups such as the gay population, and, above all, their contribution to reshaping the Korean media’s portrayal of gay people. Jungmin Kwon names the Korean female fandom for gay portrayals as “FANtasy” subculture, and argues that it adds to the present visibility of the gay body in Korean mainstream media, thus helping to change the public’s perspective toward sexually marginalized groups.
The FANtasy subculture started forming around text-based media, such as yaoi, fan fiction, and U.S. gay-themed dramas (like Will & Grace ), and has been influenced by diverse social, political, and economic conditions, such as the democratization of Korea, an open policy toward foreign media products, the diffusion of consumerism, government investment in the culture, the Hollywoodization of the film industry, and the popularity of Korean culture abroad. While much scholarly attention has been paid to female fandom for homoerotic cultural texts in many countries, this book seeks to explore a relatively neglected aspect of the its location in and influence on Korean society at large.
I almost decided not to read this book, as the title made me bristle. The notion of straight women fantasising about gay men is a sensational and rather vexed one, and (in my experience) is an over-simplification of the actual situation. In the worlds of both fan fiction (slash) and pro fiction (MM romance), there is a significant representation of readers and authors who do not identify as straight and/or as cis-gender women. And while the characters written and fantasised about are still mostly idealised gay men, there is a slowly growing diversity there as well.
Personally, I am very aware that people tend to see me as a straight cis-gender woman, but I'm not. I'm queer in both sexuality and gender. Hence I often feel invisible.
So, I was glad to find that the theme of invisibility can be found throughout this book, for both the straight women and the gay men - who Jungmin Kwon sees as natural allies in a necessary resistance to the conservative hetero-patriarchy of South Korean society. I was also glad to find that Kwon firmly believes that the broader community of fans she's considering are not all straight women. However, her interviewees all identified as such, and therefore she respected that, and did not presume to comment on wider identities unless drawing on material sourced elsewhere.
Long story short: I got over myself and quit bristling.
Kwon's book is far more thorough than the title indicates, as she covers economics, politics, 20thC history, culture and consumption, feminism and post-feminism, as well as fandom, and films and television.
She takes a very thorough look at the subject of fans, and the evolving acceptance of LGBTQ people, in the context of South Korea. Kwon acknowledges that there is still a long long way to go before LGBTQ people are accepted. However, the activity of straight women fans, and the entertainment industry's recognition of them as an audience worth creating for, has been a significant push in the right direction.
The study begins with fans creating and consuming slash fic, yaoi, and other more indigenous forms of fiction, with a focus on boy bands and other subjects. There is (or was) much fannish appreciation of "flower-boys": androgynous or feminised young men. From around 2005, with the film "The King and the Clown", filmmakers began catering to this perceived desire from women, and included flower-boy main or secondary characters. After all, capitalism is always looking for new markets!
Gay men were less impressed, and wanted more accurate representation, for example of "poor, senior, and plain-looking gay men". And indeed there have since been instances of LGBTQ representation becoming broader and more realistic.
Interestingly, not only are Koreans seeing more queer characters in film and television, but also more "bromance". I find this an interesting development, as bromance is certainly a genre that can be "safely" surface-read as friendship by a mainstream audience, but which also allows other audience members to read more into the characters and relationships. Certainly my early slash fic very much involved "friends to lovers" tropes developing out of buddy films. In the West, we are now growing tired of perceived "queer-baiting", but in Korea this is all still so new that fans and LGBTQ people are mostly glad for any kind of representation, and perhaps only cavil in private.
Kwon acknowledges that such developments in both culture and society are still small and rare, and are strongly opposed by many. However, she sees hope for the future, and believes that fans have played a significant role in getting this far. She quotes Larry Gross in considering the power of cultural representation. We can conclude that, while we still have a long way to go, LGBTQ people and women in South Korea have become more visible and hence more powerful - and that cannot be a bad thing.
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The publisher kindly gave me an ARC of this book via NetGalley. The views expressed are my own.
Now I know the context. This book, engagingly written in first person by a fan turned academic, looks at the nexus between homoerotic fanfic written by straight girls, LGBT communities, and the mass entertainment media. It is interesting, first, to see such a similar trajectory, shared issues, with slash fiction in the West. Jungmin Kwon examines too the distinct Korean direction these relationships have taken. Different from Japan where, she reports, for two decades gay spokespeople have been at 'feud' with yaoi or local slash culture, with the latter insisting it is and can be 'apolitical'. Less so Korean fans, who have become responsive to accusations that their fantasy is detached from, and does not help, reality. As for those hit films that found their way around the world, the entertainment industry has cottoned on to the size and resources of the fan market and commercialised their style of stories, with the result of a steep rise in visibility for gay lives. It was still hard for the author to locate gay men to interview, but she found them quite positive towards this women-driven 'gay boom'. In her own voice, Kwon ends with the hope and belief that straight women fans and LGBT communities in Korea can do a lot in allyship. Fanfic was a way to escape the patriarchy, for women to acquire agency. Women and gay people belong in the trenches together, Kwon is sure.
As someone who is both queer and a fan of Korean media, I’ve always been personally interested in this subject and finally took my first step into the academic study by reading this book.
This work laid out a thorough analysis of who these female fans are, their (growing) socioeconomic power within Korean society, their relationship with gay content, and their relationship with the gay community (and gay issues) within this heteropatriarchal society.
For anyone else interested in this subject, I recommend this book as a great introduction as it presents strong arguments in the real social change female fans can make and how forming a stronger relationship with the (hopefully more visible) gay community would only further help advance positive social change in Korea.
I applaud the transparency and self-awareness of the professor’s biases, ability to acknowledge their short-comings in sample size and views as a self-identified heterosexual individual, and the conclusions reached. For what it’s worth as a novice of the subject, but a seasoned student, the research, findings, and arguments that they laid out was some of the best I’ve encountered due to their structure, thoroughness, and analyses.
In case you do see this, I want to thank the author for your work. I do plan to continue looking into more of your published works and others you’ve cited in this book as I continue my research.
I also want to thank the other two reviews currently on this Goodreads page written by Bryn and Julie. It was honestly your reviews that ultimately led me to purchase this book.
Interesting, relevant topic, particularly in terms of my own research interests, but I find myself struggling with some of the implications of this monograph. To summarize, Jungmin Kwon contends that the increase of straight Korean female fans of gay Korean media post-2005 (with the release of The King and the Clown [왕의 남자], dir. Lee Joon-ik) sparked an uptick of gay representation in media, primarily due to their newfound buying power in the post-IMF era. This, as a result, led to societal improvement for gay Korean men specifically, and sexual minorities more broadly.
This is fine and good, but my main point of contention is in the agential role gay Korean men (and other sexual minorities, but Kwon focuses on gay men specifically so we'll stick with them here) play in their own representation. When Kwon actually talks about this she ends up concluding that the way forward is for gay Korean men to continue doing what they're doing (coming out, being involved in politics, producing their own media) and to bond with straight Korean female fans under the guise of solidarity, because alone they don't have enough power to make real change in highly heteropatriarchal neo-Confucian South Korea.
I just... I don't like that argument. I get the point, really I do, but it really bothers me and I'm struggling not to be offended by it. In effect Kwon is downplaying the agency of gay Korean men. There's a little too much "rah-rah-straight women are the cause for societal improvement!" and not enough "gay men have power too!" in this argument for my liking. But I also have strong opinions regarding the role of heterosexual people in the gay community, so I'm coming in here with a bias, so yeah. (Also, I wish Kwon had looked at lesbian or trans media, or transnational fans, but those are issues to be taken up in another book, I guess.)
I do recommend this monograph - specifically to scholars of Korean studies or fandom studies, as these are people who tend to be critical about what they read. I am, however, nervous about people outside these fields getting a hold of it. Some of the online (Twitter) discourse regarding queer media is highly problematic, and this book could be used to legitimize quite a bit of said discourse when it really, really shouldn't.