Dumbledore is . . . Jody Foster? What?
Seriously, I’m regretting this post already. Here’s the thing, for those of you who’ve been in cryostorage over the last few days–at a recent fan event, Jo Rowling dropped what has to be the flabbiest bombshell of all time: she liked the Smiths when she was young, and Dumbledore was gay.
Gay, I might add, in the best possible way for straight but narrow readers:
1. He’s dead.
2. We didn’t know he was gay while he was alive–because it wasn’t important then. Or because nobody asked. There was some lack of clarity there.
3. He had, apparently, one love affair, in his teens, with a crypto-fascist, and then killed him, which was the end of his love life forever. Yes, forever. Didn’t date, didn’t fall in love, didn’t even have a wide stance. Because one bad teenage romance means you’ll be alone eternally, wishing only for a chamberpot, or some socks.
4. He was the ONLY gay wizard in the universe. There were no others. No gay friends, no gay community, no gay issues, no Wizard Pride, no Wizard Smiths, even: just Dumbledore, the lonely, only gay.
5. He was thus free to devote himself to befriending, serving, and aiding all the lovely straight people who needed him, which is only right and proper. The Coat Hanger of Wisdom . . . because there’s nothing at all stultifying, soul-crushing, or toxic about living in the closet.
All righty then. I’m done.