Notes on "Diva Worship"
The Diva has captured the hearts, minds and the undying fidelity of the Homosexual for time immemorial.
Image credits: Justine Hu
It’s 2010. The doctor has ordered bed rest for my rapidly worsening strep throat, and I am aimlessly flipping through the T.V. I land on MTV, as my speakers emit the deep resonant notes of a harmonium. The camera pans from a sign that says, “Blue Films presents Sheila ki Jawani” to Katrina Kaif, the titular Sheila. Bathed in soft purple lighting, She is recumbent on a plush, spinning pink bed, surrounded by pillows, candelabras and billowing gauze curtains, with nothing but a thin, silk sheet covering her glowing skin. Her hair? Perfectly done, in loose waves that spill onto her shoulders. Her make-up? Barely there, accentuates her naturally gorgeous features — high cheekbones, long eyelashes and glossy lips. The video cuts, and Sunidhi Chauhan’s vocals kick in. I know you want it but you’re never gonna get it. Tere haath kabhi na aani. Kaif is now surrounded by male background dancers dressed in tight, ripped black tank tops and gold face paint, all vying for her attention. She dodges the advances of the male lead, Akshay Kumar. Instead, asserts, Kisi aur ki mujhko zaroorat kya? Main toh khud se pyar jataun (Why do I need another, when I can love myself?).
I was enraptured.
This was my introduction to the Diva, a woman who knows exactly who she is and what she wants, and who isn’t going to settle for anything less. The Diva has captured the hearts, minds and the undying fidelity of the Homosexual for time immemorial. Whether that be Leonardo da Vinci dedicating 13 years of his life to capture the mystical beauty of the Mona Lisa, or Elton John and Andy Warhol’s tributes to the glamorous and misunderstood life of Marilyn Monroe. Afterall, it is a truth universally acknowledged that a Homosexual, in possession of a good familiarity with the zeitgeist, must be in want of a Diva to Worship.
These notes are for Susan Sontag.
Diva invokes the Latin divus, ‘divine’ or ‘godlike’. These are women described not in adjectives, but large-sweeping sentiments and rapturous annunciations of their sheer raw talent. They are not simply good, nor great. They are supreme, unparalleled, cunctipotent.
Originating from opera as the prima donna, literally ‘first lady’, the Diva emerged from the all-male acting troupes of the 16th century. Inhabiting the roles of goddesses and deities, it would have been a disservice to refer to these women with anything less than this epithet. Nothing else would have captured their other-worldly talents. One of the earliest acolytes of the Diva, 19th-century French critic Théophile Gautier writes of her as “thrice gifted”, a sacred fusion of song, passion and beauty that commands deep reverence and veneration.
As the Diva began to enter the popular lexicon in 1883, Adelina Patti, a coloratura soprano, cemented herself in the popular consciousness as the definitive prima donna. She was the most recognisable woman in the world, second only to Queen Victoria, with unparalleled wealth, status and freedom. However, news about her conduct began gaining traction, as reported in The Youth’s Companion in 1887 which outlined an exchange between Patti and her manager. He had objected to her exorbitant performance fees, greater than that of the annual salary of the US president, to which she retorted, “Very well, get the President of the United States to sing for you, then!” Described as a spoiled diva in the magazine, instances such as these resulted in the pejoration of the word. She, the Diva, is arrogant, demanding and self-involved.
Therein lies the contradiction. If it were not for Patti’s shrewd business acumen and her ability to gauge her true worth, she would not have achieved the heights that she did. What draws the Homosexual towards the Diva is the metatextual narrative; where others see her as a high-maintenance nightmare, the Homosexual sees her for her talent and dedication to not just her craft, but also herself. There is undeniable power in a good song, a good show, and a good performance, and there is unquestionable courage in unapologetically embracing herself in the face of criticism and delivering excellence.
To borrow the words of one of the most preeminent Divas alive today, Beyoncé, ‘Diva is a female version of a hustler’. The Homosexual is drawn to the Diva because he sees her blood, sweat and tears, where no one else does. Thus, the hustle is a fundamental process in the formation of Divadom. The Diva must have faced some backlash, controversy, or hurdle. This may be due to institutional forces, like when Taylor Swift was denied the right to buy her masters, external actors, when Deepika Padukone’s turn as the mythological Queen Padmavati incited nationwide riots from right-wing groups, or entirely self-inflicted, as witnessed by Ariana Grande’s most recent flirtation with homewrecking and her seeming lack of remorse for it. If the Diva’s ride to the top was smooth and effortless, her metanarrative will not speak to the Homosexual. It is this struggle that draws empathy from the Homosexual, who resonate deeply with the oppression and ostracism. Therefore, when the Diva acts out, it makes reports of unreasonable requests and bad behaviour so satisfying. As writer Christina Newland put it, “It’s fun to watch women who’ve worked for their power and money get to behave in silly, petulant ways with it.”
Beyond seeing their own fight against pervasive hierarchical structures within that of the Diva’s, Diva Worship becomes a fundamental tool in both identity and community formation for the Homosexual. As academic Jimmy Draper explains, Diva Worship helps Homosexuals both “relate to each other” and “empower themselves”. From Marlene Dietrich and Judy Garland, to Arethra Franklin and Diana Ross, and nowadays, from Michelle Yeoh to Charli XCX. The Worship of these Divas, then, becomes vital for survival. It creates threads of shared histories, secret languages. A codex only decipherable to those in the know.
Prior to Stonewall, Worship of the Diva was also a means of escapism to cope with the realities of their marginalised romantic desires. When the diva is being wooed on screen or professing their love publicly, the Homosexual can vicariously live through the Diva, romancing dashing heartthrobs like Clark Gable, Humphrey Bogart, and Gene Kelly. More recently, one sees Posh Spice, whoring out her superstar athlete husband, David Beckham, through her Instagram account. On the contrary, with the growing acceptance of same-sex love, the Diva’s lifestyle takes centre stage in these Homosexual fantasies. For instance, the nomadic modus vivendi of Dua Lipa, who seems to be permanently on vacation.
When the Diva wields her accrued power and utilises it in service of the Homosexual Agenda, she further endears herself to the Homosexual. From AIDs activism by old Hollywood Starlets like Elizabeth Taylor, to Lady Gaga taunting the Russian Government for its draconian stance on LGBTQ+ rights, the Homosexuals feel indebted to these Divas for embracing them when the zeitgeist does not.
Notedly, all Divas are not Allies. Case in point, Azealia Banks. A permanent fixture on gay playlists the world round, it’s difficult to resist the urge to groove to her infectious, transcendental beats. It is more difficult, however, to ignore her track record of homophobia. From calling a flight attendant the f-slur to accusing gay men of appropriating horse culture for their use of leather straps and ketamine, Banks' often positions herself against the interests of the community, including supporting avowedly anti-queer politicians like Ron DeSantis and Donald Trump. Yet, the Homosexual is still drawn to this Diva, particularly her assertiveness and rebelliousness; a black woman unapologetically taking up space. Alternatively, her inclination towards messiness and drama directly appeals to the Homosexual sensibility.
There is no male equivalent for the Diva. While the masculine divo exists, it was never adopted by the Homosexual masses. From Elton John to Troye Sivan, none of these artists inspire anywhere near the often militant loyalty and dedication the Homosexuals feel towards their Divas, despite their art directly speaking and relating to the queer experience. This is a direct product of gay misogyny. As the Homosexual does not shed his privilege under dominant patriarchal structures, there is pervasive ridiculing and demeaning of fellow femme-presenting, non-masculine individuals within the community, a product of the preoccupation the Homosexual man still has with traditional notions of masculinity. Hence, when male artists adopt and embrace the Diva aesthetic, high-femme and camp presentation, it spurns rather than attracts the Homosexual.
The Diva is often a victim of gay misogyny herself. The history of Diva Worship is riddled with instances of Homosexuals turning on their Divas when she fails to meet their expectations. For instance, writer Brian O’Flynn narrates how gay men would attend Judy Garland’s concerts, and, despite knowing the precarious mental state she was in towards the end of her life, would ruthlessly heckle her for being too drunk to finish her performances. Another incarnation of this was the gossip and tabloid culture of the late 90s and early aughts, where notable Homosexuals, like Perez Hilton, would routinely bully and shame Divas, leading to multiple public breakdowns, from Amanda Bynes to Britney Spears. This has morphed into the gay stan culture of today. One minute anonymous Twitter accounts may shower superlatives and praise on their chosen Diva of the week, whereas the next, they are equally as invested in tearing that very same Diva down.
At its most extreme, the Worship manifests problematically. When the fanatical Homosexual develops a parasocial attachment, it leads to deleterious encroachment into the Diva’s innerworld. This ranges from overreaching and unwanted speculation regarding the Diva’s intimate life, and can stretch as far as doxxing and outright stalking. At this stage, the Homosexual no longer sees the Diva as a living, breathing woman, but as a product to devour. A true devotee remains radically empathetic, and most importantly, knows his limits.
For the neophytes seeking a Diva of their own, an assorted list of deities canonised in the Pantheon of Divadom:
Mariah Carey
Cher
Sophie Anderson and Rebecca More, “The Cock Destroyers”
Tracy Grimshaw
Faye Dunaway
Gypsy Rose Blanchard
The Green M&M
Nicki Minaj
Jennifer Coolidge
Tiffany “New York” Pollard
Björk
Hatsune Miku
Lois Griffin
Mia Goth as Pearl
Joan Didion
Rekha
Michelle Visage
It’s hard not to be drawn to a Diva. It’s hard not to root for a woman who bends the will of a misogynistic system that, at each corner, tries to wear her down. It’s harder still not to root for a woman, who, in the face of insurmountable odds, ascends to maestra on her own terms. In doing so, she becomes an icon. A manifestation of the culture. She, the Diva, transcends her personhood and becomes a beacon of identification. But, more vitally, I like to think of her not as a reflection of our struggles on the margins of society, jockeying for acceptance, but rather a projection of what we can ultimately achieve. What I, a little sore-throated, bed-ridden queer pre-teen dreamed to be — strong, self-possessed, and most importantly, comfortable in my own skin. In Kaif, beyond the glamour, I saw radical self-acceptance, a blueprint by which I could learn to embrace myself in the face of ostracism. Kisi aur ki mujhko zaroorat kya? Main toh khud se pyar jataun.
And for that, I will forever Worship at the altar of the Diva.