Chronicling the history of queer and trans identities while avoiding a teleological narrative can be a challenging undertaking. Fernández-Galeano’s book masterfully explores the genealogy of being a “marica” in both Argentina and Spain. In doing so, he illustrates how these historical identities were shaped by a complex interplay of paradigms and social actors. From positivist state officials to psychoanalysts, forensic doctors, and the penal system, various forces contributed to the regulation and definition of the marica experience. Adopting a transnational approach, Galeano traces the circulation across the Atlantic of artists, writers, scientists, and intellectuals who collectively configured understandings of what was permitted and prohibited in sexual and romantic encounters between men. By examining these interconnections, the book reveals the fabric of a marica identity formation that defies linear narratives and emphasizes the fluidity of that experience.
One highlight of Fernández-Galeano’s work is the use of archives. The author analyzes “official” archives, such as police files and judicial and medical records, but also artifacts of popular culture, letters, clothing, memoirs, and personal stories of several protagonists. The concept of “experience” is a fundamental part of the narrative here. In doing so, the book escapes an essentialist conception of sexuality “while also problematizing a clear-cut taxonomic distinction between gender and sexuality” (xxvvii). Divided into three parts of two chapters each, the book explores distinct yet interconnected themes. Chapter 1 delves into positivist penal and criminological theories that were applied to control “dangerous” populations in both countries. In Franco’s Spain, vagrancy laws positioned homosexuality in a liminal space, between psychiatry and criminology. Men accused of homosexuality were expected to perform “masculinity” when interviewed by state officials and doctors or risked being seen as performing a woman’s role. In Argentina, the development of psychoanalysis from the late 1930s forward (due in no small measure to exiles from Franco’s Spain) characterized feeble masculinity as a feminine, submissive attribute—and, for that reason, a danger. Chapter 2 reveals how class distinctions shaped the lived realities of marica identities, contributing to the erasure of that experience. Elite, Catholic, erudite, and cultured entendidos created a respectable homosexual identity, opposed to the authorities’ notions of depravation.
Chapter 3 examines the impact of mass media and consumerism on images of masculinity in both countries during the 1950s and 1960s. This era marked a significant shift, as the burgeoning sex market, fueled by capitalist expansion, contributed to the emergence of a new masculine identity characterized by youthful rebellion. The author explores the various expressions of “virile” behavior within youth culture and cinema, analyzing how these representations redefined the semiotics of masculinity and homosexuality in Buenos Aires. The chapter highlights the role of photography as a crucial medium for articulating the marica experience. It discusses the homoerotic photographs and clippings collected by an individual in Buenos Aires, alongside erotic images gathered by men facing persecution in Franco’s Spain. These collections served as more than mere repositories of fantasy; they fostered a subculture centered on sexuality and friendship and cemented connections among individuals navigating their marica identities in repressive contexts.
Chapter 4 explores the sexual culture within the military, focusing on how institutions sought to impose a hegemonic definition of homosexuality. The author examines soldiers’ testimonies about their sexual practices, revealing a prevailing binary of gender roles represented by the macho–marica dichotomy. Despite the fact that the Argentine Military Code condemned homosexual acts, authorities showed harshness toward behaviors deemed feminine or passive. Sexual violence, the author writes, was a “way of asserting one’s masculinity by dominating other males” (108).
Chapter 5 examines archival materials from the 1960s and 1970s in Spain and Argentina, focusing on how these sources often overlooked the distinction between transgender and cisgender identities. Androgyny transcended mere aesthetic preference; it evolved into a significant political tool for resistance against repression. During Argentina’s most oppressive period (1976–83), maricas reconfigured spaces of violence, such as prisons, transforming them into areas of queer sociability. In the final years of Franco’s dictatorship, fashion, aesthetics, and performance became integral to marica culture. The regime’s establishment of “specialized” prisons for homosexuals aimed to categorize and control homosexual behavior, suppressing self-expression. Finally, chapter 6 focuses on the emergence of early activism in Argentina and Spain, emphasizing how the sexual liberation movements of the 1970s were influenced by the marica and travesti experiences of the preceding years. In Argentina, the Frente de Liberación Homosexual (FLH) grappled with discussions around marica femininity and the implications of aligning with leftist groups. In contrast, Spain’s strong Catholic backdrop forced maricas to conceal their identities. The chapter highlights the tensions between revolutionary ideals, discreet homosexuality, and the experiences of maricas, who were frequently seen as “locas.” The author argues that these alternative views positioned maricas as “the revolutionary subject par excellence,” challenging both patriarchy and capitalism (190).
Fernández Galeano’s book highlights the myriad ways in which queer communities resisted violence, challenged pathologization, and created a vibrant culture. As such, it contributes to a nuanced understanding of LGBTQ+ history in Argentina and Spain.
