Previously: Forced-masc fantasies in Georgette Heyer. The particular cruelty of Rebecca’s forced-masc fantasies focus on defaults; unless someone is the most extremely woman person to ever live, they’re rounded down to a sort of malfunctioning boy and stashed in an attic somewhere. The premise is something like this:
Real talk: I thought the protagonist of Rebecca *was* a man until pretty much the marriage proposal. My reading comprehension was not that bad, and now I feel vindicated.
du Marnier, too? I was not ready for this—I'm still _reeling_ from learning that Katharine Hepburn may have been a closeted transmasc (I have no idea if this is true—I saw it in a Tumblr post of unclear attribution and veracity—but I want it to be true more than anything else). This is simply far too many feelings for this early in the day.
"A nasty man like me coming and spoiling all your fun": Forced-Masc Fantasies in Daphne du Maurier
Real talk: I thought the protagonist of Rebecca *was* a man until pretty much the marriage proposal. My reading comprehension was not that bad, and now I feel vindicated.
“I-Should-Have-Been-A-Man-derley.”
*chef's kiss*
du Marnier, too? I was not ready for this—I'm still _reeling_ from learning that Katharine Hepburn may have been a closeted transmasc (I have no idea if this is true—I saw it in a Tumblr post of unclear attribution and veracity—but I want it to be true more than anything else). This is simply far too many feelings for this early in the day.