This blog series is about supporting creators from diverse backgrounds, but I have decided to take a step to one side. I want to focus not on the diversity of the creator, but instead on diverse content. I hope you will indulge me on ‘Women in historical fiction who disguise themselves as men’ – because this will not be the first time I have written on this topic – indeed it appears in my books. But more of that later.
In this post, I am referring to ‘cis’ women who find that presenting as a man is the only way to react to external situations, rather than those who are trans or intersex.
Gender-swapping in historical fiction is nothing new. But here’s a thought; is there a double-standard? Is a straight man dressing as a woman seen as the stuff of comedy? While a woman dressing as a man is instead a serious act of challenge to social norms?
If so, I suspect this is mainly down to the historical position of women in society. For a man to appear as a woman was to downgrade himself to a lower status and could therefore generally be rationalised through comedy. But for a woman, disguising herself as a man allowed her to step outside her expected place and take on a dominant role. For her, it was a means to achieve a specific goal; she could travel more easily, engage in work typically reserved for men, or fight alongside them on land or sea. Or she could help keep herself safe from male violence.
Throughout history, women have faced numerous societal constraints that limited their freedom and opportunities. These restrictions may well have varied across eras and cultures, but often women were prohibited from participating in politics, owning property, or joining the military. Despite these barriers, many women found ways to circumvent societal norms. Some, like Elizabeth of Hardwick in late 16th century England, used accumulated wealth to build her power-base, but few women had her opportunities. So for them, the best option was to bind their chest, cut their hair, practice their best male-voice growl and disguise themselves as a man. You know what they say; if you can’t beat them…
As a historical author I have a keen interest in such women. My books feature strong female heroines who use the gender-swap trope whenever needed. For example, in the Mary Fox Adventures series, Mary finds it necessary to pass as a man much of the time. For her it’s not just a means of rebelling against her oppressive family, it also allows her to travel unhindered to many locations (as part of the current story I’m writing, she’s made it to the Italian peninsula). It also means she is better able to fight off a succession of (mostly male) enemies.
Is there any truth behind such gender-swaps in fiction? Yes – with several examples from historical records and legends. Women such as Deborah Sampson, Hua Mulan, Joan of Arc and Mary Read come to mind. Their stories reflect the lengths to which women went to assert their autonomy and pursue their ambitions. Deborah Sampson fought in the American Revolutionary War for 17 months. Her true gender was only revealed in 1783 when she needed medical treatment after contracting a fever. Hua Mulan may have been legendary rather than a real person from Chinese history, but according to the legend, she had a long and distinguished military career before retiring and revealing herself as a woman. Joan of Arc, whose life has been much fictionalised, was nevertheless a real person who played a crucial role in the Hundred Years’ War. Mary Read was a real woman who fought on land and sea as a man, and eventually became a well-known Caribbean pirate.
Historical fiction plays a strong role in bringing these hidden stories of crossdressing women to light. I have just finished Saltblood by Francesca de Torres, which tells Mary Read’s story pretty much from birth to death, and gives a fascinating insight into why she presented herself for so many years as Mark Read (the name of her dead infant brother). And how many other women have passed as men for all their lives, and only been discovered after their deaths when the body’s secret was revealed? I am sure you know of more examples than the ones I have referenced here. Why not add their stories in the comments?
Books such as Saltblood, and others that represent women who disguised themselves as men, can have a powerful impact on modern readers. These stories can offer a sense of empowerment by shining a spotlight on the resilience and ingenuity of women who defied societal norms. They also encourage readers to draw parallels between past and present gender issues, and hopefully give context to the modern-day narratives that continue to challenge and redefine gender roles.
A final thought: Incorporating the stories of women who disguised themselves as men into historical fiction not only helps to enrich the genre, but it also helps broaden our understanding of history. The bravery and determination of such women, who refused to be confined by the limitations of their sex and society, may have changed the course of events through their actions. Telling their stories helps preserve that the legacy of these remarkable people, and can inspire modern women – and perhaps men too – to keep on challenging conventions and breaking down barriers. Because that’s how change happens.
Cover image: Joan of Arc, 1917 (Oil on Canvas), by William Blake Richmond.
Jonathan writes action and adventure novels set in Tudor England, with fiesty female heroines. He has a trilogy that starts with a modern-day girl time-travelling back to the 16th century, as well as a two-book (soon to be three) spin-off series featuring swashbuckling heroine Mary Fox.
Enjoyed this very much – thank for the other shining examples of women disguised as men through history and ficiton =—-> Sharing =—->