The Hidden Language of Desire: How Landmark Queer Novels Shaped a Filmmaker’s Vision
For director Dominic Hermanus, exploring the complexities of human connection – particularly those forged in the shadows of societal constraint – is a recurring theme. His work,including the critically acclaimed “Mary & George” (featuring Julianne Moore),delves into worlds where desire is a hazardous currency,often masked by power and societal expectation.But hermanus’s fascination with these themes isn’t solely cinematic; it’s deeply rooted in literature. He recently shared insights into three novels that have profoundly influenced his artistic perspective: Thomas Mann’s Death in Venice, E.M. Forster’s Maurice, and Patricia Highsmith’s the Price of Salt. These aren’t simply stories he admires, but windows into the anxieties, codes, and courageous acts of queer authors navigating a world that often demanded silence.
This exploration isn’t just about the narratives themselves, Hermanus emphasizes, but the stories behind the stories – the authors’ own relationships to their work, and the purposeful choices they made in expressing forbidden truths. Here’s a deeper look at how these novels resonated with Hermanus, and why they continue to hold such power.
Death in venice by Thomas mann: The Commodity of Beauty and Coded Longing
Mann’s 1912 novella, a haunting tale of a writer’s obsession with a beautiful young boy during a cholera epidemic, struck Hermanus during his own formative years in Paris. “I read ‘Death in Venice’ when I was in my twenties, and it loosely inspired my second film, which is about a sexually repressed middle-aged character,” he explains. He titled his film “Beauty” deliberately, recognizing that in Mann’s work, beauty isn’t merely aesthetic; it’s a commodity, a focal point for a desire that cannot be openly acknowledged.
However, Hermanus’s response wasn’t purely admiration. He found the novella “upsetting,” perceiving it as a “misguided, varnished book about lust.” This isn’t a dismissal of the work, but a nuanced understanding of its context. Mann, writing in a restrictive era, employed a specific language - one that coded desire into idealized beauty – to make the subject matter palatable, even to himself.
“It’s a case where the author is speaking in a language that he finds agreeable in order to express something inside of him,” Hermanus observes. “It’s hidden,but it’s also not hidden.” This duality – the simultaneous concealment and revelation of desire - is a key element that captivated Hermanus, informing his own approach to portraying complex emotional landscapes on screen. Death in Venice demonstrates the power of subtext and the enduring need for artists to find ways to express truth, even within the confines of societal norms.
Maurice by E.M. Forster: A posthumous Revelation and the Price of Conformity
For Hermanus, the story of Maurice is as compelling as the novel itself. Forster, a celebrated author in his lifetime, deliberately withheld the publication of this explicitly gay novel, fearing social repercussions.It wasn’t published until after his death in 1971, a fact that profoundly impacted Hermanus.
“I read the book only after I saw the Merchant Ivory adaptation - I did it sort of illegally, I was too young, it was kind of titillating to watch it in secret,” he admits. but revisiting the novel decades later, he was struck by the author’s posthumous liberation. “It fascinates me that the author has no idea that we, the public, have access to this novel.”
Maurice charts the evolving relationships of its protagonist, Maurice Hall, first with the intellectual Clive Durham at Cambridge, and later with Alec Scudder, a gamekeeper on Clive’s estate. The novel powerfully illustrates the pressures of conformity. clive, fearing societal ostracism, ultimately chooses a conventional marriage, severing his connection with Maurice.Maurice, however, finds a more authentic, albeit unconventional, happiness with Alec.
Hermanus notes Forster’s intriguing narrative choice in portraying Maurice: “He describes him as someone who’s handsome but not necessarily the smartest or the most deserving of things.” This deliberate subversion of the typical romantic hero, Hermanus believes, adds a layer of complexity and realism to the story, forcing readers to confront their own expectations and biases. Maurice is a poignant exploration of the compromises demanded by societal expectations and the courage required to pursue genuine connection.
The Price of Salt (Carol)
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