non-binary, so has plural pronouns and also feels pain more keenly than the rest of us.]
And here's Emily Watkins, looking at Rowling's new book The Ickabog and having deep thoughts – "JK Rowling’s first children’s book since the Harry Potter series is a political fairy tale about people controlled by fear of a legendary monster. Emily Watkins wonders if the author might learn from her own parable". Yes, I think we can see where this is going:
If I were feeling charitable, I might characterise Rowling’s qualms with trans women as being born of a similar anxiety to that that surrounds the Ickabog. Whether we’re talking about class, race, sex or gender, aversion is a tried-and-tested mechanism for pushing something away – because, on some level, it’s perceived as a threat.
A woman in the office – what if she gets the promotion instead of me? People arriving from other countries – but where will I go? Trans rights – well what about mine? And isn’t this the kind of fear, wielded by Lord Spittleworth and echoed throughout Cornucopia, that The Ickabog is warning us to stand up against?
The Ickabog’s legendary monster is far less frightening than humans’ own hypocrisy and failure – Cornucopia’s corrupt government or the real world’s institutionalised violence. From Chouxvillian haves to Marshlander have-nots, from transphobia to racism, Ickabogs abound and they’re made of us. Myths and fear are often one and the same.
Ooh she's just dripping with patronising condescension.
Is it possible that Rowling's supposed transphobia is a legitimate and well thought out response to the very real threat posed by trans activists to women's safe spaces, women's sport, and the whole idea of woman as separate biological sex? The possibility is not even considered.
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