When The Red Strings Club, a cyberpunk video game, hit the market, there was a bit of hue and cry. A kerfuffle, if you will. The game featured a transgender character, and it turned out that in one scene the character's pre-transition "deadname" was exposed, as a plot point. To some reviewers, this was an unacceptable inclusion! An error so problematic that it zeroed out the merit of the rest of the game's writing, otherwise inclusive and LGBT-friendly. The conversation surrounding the game thus dug into the question: when, and how, is it acceptable to portray the messy, hurtful, or traumatic elements of life as a marginalized person, in media? Is it necessary, in the face of Internet callout culture, to write LGBT people and lives as blissful and faultless? What would that even look like?
The light novel "My Friends And I Were Granted Three Wishes By A Cat Goddess And I Swear I Got Distracted When My Turn Came Around" by Alex Zandra Van Chestein--hereafter abbreviated to "Cat Wishes", to save one's breath and bandwidth--takes the "blissful and faultless" path, to peculiar but readable effect. It's a fluffy transgender narrative that goes to great lengths to be Tumblr-unimpeachable: heartwarming, adorable, and 100% free from problematicness of any kind.
Image by Alex Zandra Van Chestein. If it wasn't obvious!
In the world of "Cat Wishes," it's not uncommon to bump into a god or goddess wandering the Earth, and if you manage to help one out of a jam, they're likely to grant you a wish. The limitations on these wishes are not thoroughly explained (nor would I want such a dissertation in the text), but they seem to most commonly involve personal physical transformation related to the deity's portfolio. So, three assigned-male-at-birth college friends rescue a beleaguered cat goddess, and as their reward, get to become catgirls! Except, protagonist Terryspoilery footnote* isn't actually sure that was what he wanted, having blurted a "yeah, me three" following his friends' wishes in a euphoric haze of close contact with divinity. The mix-up sends him on a journey of self- and interpersonal discovery, as he grapples with the sudden change to his body and perceptions.
It is remarkable how utterly wholesome a tale Van Chestein spins. There's inner turmoil and confusion and more than a few bouts of tears, but overall there's less external conflict here than even in, say, My Neighbor Totoro. The only antagonistic character appears in two scenes, so briefly that we never learn his name; we're told he's "spreading rumors," but we're spared the pain of any specifics as to the content of those rumors. When a character announces a change of name or pronoun, the rest of the world accepts and affirms it, old habits instantly null. There's abundant platonic affection and some understated romance, but it's completely chaste. There's barely even any strong language, such that its single instance of the word "asshole" lands with a dissonant clang. You could read this aloud to your favorite preschooler!
I was nonplussed about "Cat Wishes'" adamant inoffensiveness during the reading, but it makes sense. This is, quite literally, a wish-fulfillment fantasy. (Heck, even government bureaucracy is portrayed as helpful, stress-free, and emotionally supportive!) It's a vision of a world where the social justice stuff we fight for is already universal and unquestioned, leaving only little miscommunications and frictions for friends to work through together. And, y'know, I've said before that if I got a magical wish, I'd switch genders without hesitation. "Cat Wishes" is for me and others like me, to bask in the if-only of it all, ending with a hearty "Awwwww."
I obtained "Cat Wishes" in print via Kickstarter, but you can get a digital copy from itch.io!
* If you're a Tumblrite ready to jump down my throat about this, I'M AVOIDING SPOILERS, OKAY.