What Is It With Historical Novelists and Gay Men?

I just don't get what the deal is with historical novelists, specifically medieval historical novelists, and their portrayals of gay men. If you read as many of these novels as I do one after another, you soon find yourself quite conversant with examples of gay male characters. They abound. But why are they so often cast firmly in stereotype? Is this some sort of love-hate cross-gender preference situation?

Let me point to two miscomprehensions of gay male life I have found in numerous novels.

1. Why do so many novelists cling to the stereotype that hay men seek underage boys as lovers? The comedian in the book I just read, The Merry Devils by Edward Marston is described as having only two things that can ease his temper, drink and boys, and the lead actor takes pains to keep him away from the teen apprentices. Richard the Lionhearted in Shield of Three Lions falls for a girl disguised as a boy. Even novels that seem to treat homosexuality in a little more enlightened way put their toes over this boundary, such as Ellis Peter's Cadfael series where the young boys are closely guarded from adult monks' attention by the master assigned to that chore and the young musician in The Holy Thief has a past as the sexually abused ward of a lord.

2. Which leads me to the second stereotype. that boys become gay because of abuse as children. In Valerie Anand's King of the Wood this seems to be the explanation for King William Rufus' proclivities. That's the situation in Robb's An Apothecary Rose as the Summoner's interest in Lucy's husband is chalked up to childhood sex play.

While some gay men do prefer boys and some boys who are sexually molested grow up to be gay, neither is the norm. That's why I appreciate novels that first of all don't seek to explain the gayness of a character. My favorite gay couple in historical fiction are Martin and Ambrose in the Owen Archer series. They are just two men in love. 'Nuff said. Robb takes it a step further and shows the intense tenderness and concern of the lover when his dear one is hurt. In a funny little novel called Knight on a Bridge the lady of the manor asks a troubadour if he loves boys. He answers, and I thank him for it, that he loves men.

There are oodles of gay characters, mostly but not all men, in historical fiction. Just about any novel about Richard the Lionhearted has this as a theme, as do novels about Edward II with his two favorites, Piers Gaveston and Hugh le Dispenser. Tudor novels have a sprinkling of them, and so do many medieval mysteries. My own novel, An Involuntary King, has a couple whom a reader called "the only tragic lovers" in my story, gay men I endeavored to show as flawed human beings with great depth in their love for one another... or one for the other, at any rate. Take a look at Erastes' blog in the right-hand column here to find "Dare Not Speak Its Name" with more references to gay men historical fiction.

My issue is the stereotypes and my question is, if gay male characters are so compelling and attractive to historical novelists, why don't we portray them as they really are?

I welcome comment.