what is the ‘diverting tinkerbell’?

QUEER WORD
THE DIVERTING TINKERBELL

What It Means:

a term used to describe the survival strategy of campy, effeminate gay male performers from earlier generations (think 60s, 70s, 80s). These were men who could be as fluttery and flamboyant as they liked, provided they kept everyone entertained and never said anything too direct about actually being gay.

Let’s Use It In A Sentence:

Nigel’s default response to being asked anything remotely personal was to become a diverting tinkerbell. His wrists were aching from all the impromptu jazz hands.

What Happens When You Can't Say You're Gay?

I often get annoyed when people talk about ye olden days (like, you know, the 1980s) as a time when there was absolutely no queer representation or role models to be found anywhere.

On one hand, I get it. There were very few people whose careers could weather being openly out when there was still huge stigma (and, if you go back far enough, illegality) around being queer.

But on the other hand, queer people have always been everywhere. You just have to be open to the signs. A raised eyebrow, a knowing smirk, an insider's joke.

And one example of gay representation that I find endlessly fascinating is the diverting tinkerbell.

These were male celebrities who somehow managed to be simultaneously super queer and deeply closeted. Men who used humour as their armour. They would be camp and fey and outlandish on our TV screens, but deflect with a sassy quip the moment anyone asked about relationships, identity, or sexuality.

So, to better understand these men and the world they were navigating, I pulled together some quotes that say everything (without actually saying anything at all).

Paul Lynde was an American comic actor and panel-show regular, best known for starring in Bewitched and the game show Hollywood Squares. He had a persona that was camp and a little bitchy. Publicly, though, he relied on old-school bachelor patter to dodge any sexuality questions.

That’s what makes this line so fascinating to me. It sounds candid, but it doesn’t actually reveal anything. It’s a neat little evasion. He gives just enough detail to seem open, but not quite enough to say the thing outright.

That was Larry Grayson’s reported response when gay activists asked him to say whether he was homosexual. Grayson was a mega popular British comedian and light-entertainment star of the 1970s and 1980s, best known for hosting The Generation Game.

This quote is an almost perfect example of the diverting tinkerbell in action. The question is understood, the answer is completely dodged, and a potentially serious moment is flipped upside down into a joke.

The most diversionary of all the diverting tinkerbells? Liberace built an entire career out of being outrageously flamboyant while still acting as though the public might conceivably believe he was straight. A pianist, showman, and basically a walking candelabra, he specialised in dropping these teeny tiny hints. That’s what this quote captures so well. The queerness is there, but filtered through camp, innuendo, and this wink-wink-nudge-nudge attitude.

That was what John Inman reportedly answered when an activist in San Francisco tried to get him to say that the character he was most famous for, Mr Humphries, was gay. The show never said it out loud, of course, but the camp department store worker at the heart of British sitcom ‘Are You Being Served?’ could hardly be considered subtle. And that’s what makes Inman’s answer so perfect. Everyone knows what he is saying without him actually having to say it.

Noël Coward belongs to a slightly earlier generation, but he fits the pattern beautifully. Playwright, actor, songwriter, and absolute master of saying a great deal while also saying absolutely nothing. Coward doesn’t confess, he quips. The joke is his shield.

The Legacy of the Diverting Tinkerbell

For a long time, the diverting tinkerbell got a bad rap from the gay community, seen as little more than a sanitised, sexless version of queerness. One that was safe for straight consumption, and stripped of anything too political, too erotic, or too real.

But, in recent years, there's been a bit of a re-evaluation.

Sure, they weren’t perfect representation. They were often caricatures of gay men, shaped by what heterosexual audiences were willing to tolerate, rather than by anything approaching authenticity or freedom.

But, still, they moved the needle. And there was a huge amount of bravery needed to take on and disarm such a hostile world.

And, even if imperfect, these odd, compromised, heavily coded figures at least gave queer audiences a flicker of representation on screen and stage.

Right?

Hmmm…

I’m not entirely sure where I land on it.

Part of me loves the brash, bold persona of the diverting tinkerbell, always ready with a quip or an arched eyebrow. But there’s also something sad about having to lock so much of yourself away. Part of me pities these men for having to compartmentalise their lives in such a convoluted, contorted way.

But, whether they were ‘good’ representation or not, they remain a fascinating, spiky, confusing part of queer history.

What are your thoughts? Complete the poll below and let me know.