Out of the Blue by Ari tells the story of guitar-playing, music-loving Felix and Mack, a fun-loving mermaid trapped in a water reservoir. One day, Mack finally musters up the courage to talk to Felix as he plays by his favorite spot by the reservoir. Felix, while enjoying the company, is understandably cautious around the mysterious boy who refuses to get out of the water, especially because Felix can’t see him. Mack, on the other hand, is relishing finally being able to talk to someone without hiding. After years of loneliness, prickly and guarded Felix and Mack slowly learn that they’re not all that different.
What is achieved by depicting queerness though physical differences?
It is safe to argue to that one of the main purposes of queer comics is to feature respectful and accurate representation of queer characters. Comics have been the means by which many queer and ally creators depict the countless stories that have been deliberately invisibilized by the hegemony for ages. Regrettably, it is still an ongoing struggle, especially in more mainstream media like film and television. While some strides have been made, queerness is still often coded or hinted at, carrying echoes of the Victorian euphemism “the love that dares not speak its name.” Because of this, queer people have often latched on to queer coded characters, whether conceptually intentional or not. Sometimes, the queer coding is based on the body experience, where a character cannot partake in the status quo or forced to live on the periphery due to their physical differences and abilities. As a result, queer people could identify with the struggle of being shunned due to something outside of their control. What would happen in a story focused on differently-abled queer characters then?
Credit: Ari
A five-panel page.
First panel: A close-up of Felix with his right hand on a jar of preserved peaches.
Felix: Yeah, but I also didn’t go out much after uh…
Second panel: Felix is lifting his hand to point at his eyes.
Third panel: Mack is looking up at Felix (off-panel) with a sad smile.
Mack: Oh.
Fourth panel: A close-up of Felix reminiscing.
Felix: My best friend would still sneak me some through my window though. So maybe that still makes me an accomplice.
Fifth panel: A close-up of Mack’s profile, eyes closed, blushing and smiling.
Mack: Yeah, a real bad boy. Friend sounds nice though.
Credit: Ari
A three-panel page.
First panel: A close-up of Mack looking up at Felix in admiration.
Mack: I’d play you something but even with two good hands… I wish I could play like you.
Second panel: Felix, half smiling, is pointing at himself as Mack looks at him in disbelief.
Felix: Really? I could teach you how.
Mack: Huh?
Felix: Nobody ever plays for me. Hop up here.
Mack: Wait… Right now?
Third panel: Felix his trembling and blushing profusely as he tries to sit up next to Felix. Felix is moving the guitar and a wooden board out of Mack’s way.
Felix: Just to start. It’s pretty easy to pick up.
Mack: If it’s so easy why’d he never learn?
Felix: He couldn’t sit still in one place long enough.
Mack: Well… Prepare to be disappointed.
Felix: Why?
Mack: Because I’m probably gonna fall over you.
Felix: Lean on me if you have to.
Let’s start with Mack, who has the most obvious physical differences between the two. The fact that he is a mermaid immediately forces him to the periphery in terms of social standing, and it also limits him in terms of the spaces he can occupy. Mack is the ultimate Other, the monster of classic Gothic tradition. Not only is his origin and ways unknown, but he is also physically “deformed” according to the status quo. These facts make him an inherently dangerous threat to the establishment. However, just like another classic Gothic story, the “monster” isn’t necessarily monstrous. While it is true that monsters have been recurring stand-ins for threatening others, in the later half of the twentieth century, marginalized groups have not only seen their struggles reflected through the monster trope, but they have also come to embrace the monster as being worthy of love and affection. Felix had his own fears and prejudices to work through as he befriended Mack, which was made more difficult by Felix’s visual impairment, but he eventually was more than willing to hold him close to the play the guitar together.
Credit: Ari
A three-panel page.
First panel: Mack is looking back towards Felix, apologetically, as he speaks.
Felix: Course I was. Strange guy pops up out of a lake and trees to pull you in by the leg… Why’d you think I wouldn’t go near you after that.
Second panel: Mack is looking at Felix (off-panel) apprehensively.
Mack: You’re not still scared of me, are you?
Third panel: Felix mischievously brings Mack closer with his arm. Mack is smiling in delight.
Felix: Would I be sittin’ this close to you if I was?
Mack: Hey.
Felix: Don’t fall.
Mack: Too late.
Now, to the readers, Felix’s visual impairment is established early on in the story. For Mack, however, it isn’t obvious at first. Mack had been seeing Felix play by the reservoir for a while before coming up to talk to him, but he didn’t realize he couldn’t see until they actually met. While elated that he doesn’t have to hide from Felix, he resents Felix’s caution around him and being perceived as a monster. Felix, in turn, is also used to being treated as lesser due to his physical differences. Left behind by his friends and presumable former love interest, Felix is a reminder of how differently abled people are perceived as a burden by many. Their existence is a source of anxiety on the status quo, especially people like Felix who suffered an accident, a reminder of the fragility and the chaotic nature of life. Together, Felix and Mack represent not only queer people, but also the history of queer representation itself: the great Other, the misunderstood monster, the tragic lover… and most importantly in our current time, the representation of marginalization within the queer community itself.