Introduction: Sapphism and the Sonnet's Reinvention
The sonnet, a poetic form steeped in tradition, has long been a vessel for expressing love and longing. Yet, its legacy is overwhelmingly heteronormative, shaped by figures like Petrarch and Shakespeare, whose works centered male desire. Lesbian and bisexual poets, however, have reclaimed this rigid structure-not merely adapting it but transforming it into a radical space for celebrating queer love. These Sapphic sonnets subvert centuries of exclusion, weaving unapologetic affirmations of desire, identity, and resilience into the form's strict metrics.
The Sonnet's Heteronormative Roots
Emerging in 13th-century Italy, the sonnet flourished as a medium for exploring romantic and spiritual devotion. Yet its canonized voices, from Dante to Elizabeth Barrett Browning, often adhered to heteronormative narratives. Even when women were the subject of sonnets, they were rendered passive objects of male gaze, their agency erased. For queer women, this tradition posed a double erasure: their love was deemed unnatural, their voices unwelcome in a form that policed the boundaries of legitimacy.
Reclaiming the Form: From Sappho to Modernity
The act of reclamation begins with Sappho, the ancient Greek poet whose fragmentary works celebrated love between women. Though her voice was fragmented and censored over millennia, her legacy looms large in contemporary Sapphic sonnets. Poets like Rita Mae Brown in The Ordinary Sonnets (1973) and Adrienne Rich in Twenty-One Love Poems (1978) explicitly referenced her, framing queer love as timeless yet historically suppressed. Brown's sonnets, for example, reject sentimentality in favor of raw, urgent declarations: "I did not know the shape of my own heart / until you showed it to me-unashamed."
Subverting Structure: The Volta as Queer Turn
The sonnet's defining feature is the volta, or turn-a pivot in argument, emotion, or perspective. Queer poets exploit this structural device to dismantle heteronormative expectations. In traditional sonnets, the volta might shift from praising a beloved's virtue to questioning love's transience. In Sapphic sonnets, the turn often rejects shame or embraces visibility. Cheryl Clarke's The Days of Our Lives (1985) exemplifies this, shifting from clandestine intimacy to political assertion: "We meet / in corners where the world cannot see- / but shall we speak aloud, even now, / of what has shaped us into bravery?" Here, the volta becomes a manifesto.
Form as Resistance
The sonnet's formal constraints-14 lines, iambic pentameter, prescribed rhyme schemes-are not obstacles for queer poets but tools of resistance. By bending these rules, they highlight the tension between societal rigidity and the fluidity of queer identity. For instance, the volta might subvert a Petrarchan focus on chastity by centering bodily desire, or the final couplet could reject the male gaze entirely. This interplay between form and subversion reflects the lived reality of navigating a world that demands conformity while insisting on self-expression.
Contemporary Legacies: Queer Sonnets in the 21st Century
Today, poets like Andrea Gibson and Danez Smith continue this tradition, using the sonnet to confront intersectional oppressions. Gibson's sonnets often blend confessional tone with political fury, while Smith's work interrogates the intersections of queerness, race, and gender within the form. Their poems prove that the sonnet remains dynamic-a living archive that evolves with those who dare to rewrite it. As Gibson writes: "I'll die before I let a border define my heart's geography, / and still, it wants to rhyme, and still, it wants to rhyme with you."
Conclusion: Writing Back Into the Canon
Sapphic sonnets are not just poems; they are acts of reparation. By reclaiming the sonnet, queer women insert themselves into a literary lineage that sought to erase them. In doing so, they redefine love as expansively and fiercely as the form allows-not as a deviation but as a beacon. Through each metered line, they ask: Who was this form for before we made it ours? The answer lies in the unapologetic joy of their verses, where every rhyme is a revolution.