Novae by Kaiju is the story of Raziol, an apprentice astronomer in 17th century Paris, and his encounter and budding romance with Sulvain, an enigmatic necromancer. Despite their apparent differences, the two find themselves helplessly gravitating towards one another, expanding each other’s understanding of the universe around them. While Raziol teaches Sulvain how the vast emptiness of the sky is anything but, Sulvain slowly introduces Raziol to a whole magical underworld he didn’t know existed, where charms and spells are commonplace, and where the veil between life and death is much more permeable than he ever thought.
How is magic coded as queer?
If you ask different people part of the queer community what fantasy or magic-focused story they like, odds are that you’ll get at least a few answers. This isn’t terribly surprising as magic is a topic that fascinates a great number of people regardless of sexual identity, orientation, and expression. However, magic does seem to have an undeniable allure to the queer community in particular. It’s safe to claim that magical stories provide great settings for queerness to be expressed and celebrated. Why is this, though? What is it about magic and magical communities that not only appeal to queer people, but also seem to exude some kind of inherent queerness themselves? The first part of the answer is knowledge. In fiction, generally speaking, magic wielders and practitioners are depicted as being privy to secret knowledge, a deeper understanding of the world. This gives them a different perspective to see and manipulate the strings controlling the fabric of reality. This resonates with the queer community as queerness brings about a questioning of societal norms and accepted realities. By not being tied to constructs such as heteronormativity, gender, and compulsory heterosexuality, queer people are also granted a different and empowering perspective on the world.
Credit: Kaiju
A seven-panel page.
First panel: A woman with long, curly red hair is taking off the hood from her dark blur riding coat. She is dressed in a brown grown, golden bangles on her arms, and a bright red and gold brooch is clasped on her chest.
Second panel: Viverette and Sulvain turn to each other, wearily.
Third panel: The red-haired woman curtsies, head bowed, at Viverette and Sulvain off-panel.
Ève: Bonjour.
Fourth panel: Ève looks up at Viverette and Sulvain.
Ève: I trust that I am in good company?
Fifth panel: Viverette curtsies back, her gaze fixed on Ève.
Viverette: You are among friends.
Sixth panel: A close-up of Ève’s smirking face.
Ève: Excellent.
Seventh panel: A shot of Sulvain’s upper body, a small, round silver pin shining brightly on his cloak.
Credit: Kaiju
A third-panel page.
First panel: Viverette is reaching up to place a small bowl on a shelf as Sulvain looks on.
Viverette: Oh, you know us Magoi, magic comes to us differently!
Second panel: A close-up of a small bowl full with golden liquid. A small group of insects are drinking off the edges of the bowl.
Third panel: A shot from up above Viverette as she continues to speak. A wand made of fine, knotted wood is lying in a cushioned wooden box. The box is slightly covered in spider webs.
Viverette: Just a bit of practice and I found that these little friends are perfect for me, much better than wands.
The second part of the answer is diversity. Across fiction and tradition, magic comes in many different forms: spells, enchantments, hexes, charms, potions, curses… Similarly, magic can manifest in different forms naturally, through plants, animals, stones, unique places… As seen in Novae, while Sulvain is a necromancer, Viverette expresses her magical talents and intrests through her insect familiars. She even states that “magic comes to us so differently,” meaning that magic comes in many forms, and it manifests itself differently though different people. In this same way, queerness can manifest in many ways across the spectrum in a myriad of combinations, creating countless experiences. In short, there is no one true way to do magic; it comes in a plethora of forms that all stem from the same essence. In light of such diversity, members of the community can unify and identify themselves through symbols: colors, hairstyles, clothes and accessories that certain people can pick up on. In Novae, this is seen through Ève’s and Viverette’s coded greetings, and through Ève’s broach and Sulvain’s pin which link them to specific magical groups.
Credit: Kaiju
A three-panel page.
First panel: Viverette is talking to Sulvain, off-panel, one arm folded across her, as she scratches her chin in thought.
Viverette: I’m afraid no one’s come to ask for you since that inspector spooked me.
Second panel: A close-up of Viverette coverage her face with her hands as she remembers the events from before.
Viverette: Ah! I thought he was going to shut us down and take our heads.
Third panel: A flashback of Inspector Elouan barging into Viverette’s shop. Viverette is surprised and wide-eyed as a butterfly flies out of her hands.
Viverette: He nearly busted through that door!
Inspector Elouan: Bonjour! I’m with the King’s police!
The third part of the answer is that magic is — in and of itself — power. Most importantly, it is a power that is wielded by a minority whose members commonly live as outcasts or part of a secluded community. As discussed above, magic and queerness allow access to eye-opening knowledge and perspectives, this in turn becomes power, the power to question and cast doubt on the status quo and systems that keep hegemony in place. The same way queerness has been historically demonized, magic has also been outlawed and persecuted both in reality and fiction. This reaction stems from fear as both magic and queerness have been deemed as forbidden, as deviations to natural law that threaten the very fabric of “the way things really are.” Viverette’s reaction to Detective Elouan in her shop exemplifies this well: they must remain hidden for their safety even though it is clear that their skills and talents could play a pivotal role in society. In short, magic is coded as queer because the depiction of a group of naturally talented and powerful people with unique perspectives who live in seclusion speaks directly to the core of the queer community.