Gender Dysphoria and Self-Expression in Most Ardently

The Thematic Claim: Dysphoria as Embodied Misalignment, Self-Expression as Liberation

In Most Ardently, Gabe Cole Novoa grounds the classic Pride and Prejudice narrative in a trans boy's experience of gender dysphoria and the liberating power of self-expression. The novel's central claim is that dysphoria is not mere discomfort but a profound, embodied misalignment between how Oliver Bennet is perceived and who he knows himself to be—and that clothing, name, and presentation are not superficial concerns but essential tools for survival and joy. Oliver's journey demonstrates that self-expression is not a luxury but a necessity, and that the freedom to be seen as oneself is the foundation of every other kind of happiness.

The Busked Stay: Dysphoria Made Tangible

The novel opens with Oliver being laced into a busked stay and emerald gown by his mother. The busk—a wooden piece pressed between his breasts—is a constant reminder of a part of his body he never wants to see. This is dysphoria made physical: the garment doesn't just constrain his body; it forces him to confront a shape that makes him utterly nauseous. Oliver avoids his own reflection, studying his shoes rather than the mirror, because seeing himself in a dress makes him look like a stranger.

The deadname compounds the violation. When Mrs. Bennet addresses him as Elizabeth, Oliver's jaw clenches at the grating sensation of hearing the name he'd outgrown long ago. The narrative itself never misgenders Oliver—the author's note makes this explicit—but the characters around him do, and each instance is a small wound.

Jane Bennet's whispered words—calling him her little brother—are the counterpoint. In a scene otherwise defined by dysphoria, Jane's recognition of Oliver's true gender provides warmth and rightness. This establishes the novel's central tension: the world sees a daughter, but Oliver's sister sees her brother, and that single act of recognition is enough to sustain him through the ball.

The Bartholomew Fair: Self-Expression as Liberation

Chapter 3 offers the novel's most extended meditation on the power of clothing. Oliver's system of trunks—six small trunks with innocuous labels, the important one hidden in the center of the back row—represents the elaborate architecture of secrecy required to live as himself. The boy outfits gifted by his uncle are hidden beneath labels like books and trinkets, and the deception extends to Charlotte's wardrobe, where Oliver keeps additional clothes.

The transformation scene is the emotional heart of the chapter. Oliver dresses in his green vest, black waistcoat, white linen shirt, and cravat, ties his cravat three times to get the knot just right, and hides his hair beneath a top hat. The binding cloth—created with Jane's help—flattens his chest. When he looks in the mirror, he beams. It was a special thing, to have one's reflection in harmony with who they were.

This is the novel's clearest statement about self-expression: clothing is not costume but revelation. The same face that made Oliver nauseous in a dress becomes absolutely thrilling in men's clothes. The mirror, which earlier showed him a stranger, now shows him himself.

The chapter also introduces the social dimension of passing. Oliver learns that strangers don't look closely at his face—once they see how he dresses, they make their own conclusions. He's happy to use that assumption to his advantage. But the encounter with Bingley at the fair introduces the risk: running into someone who knows him as Elizabeth threatens to collapse the carefully maintained separation between his two selves.

The Aspirations List: Naming the Impossible

Chapter 10 contains one of the novel's most painful scenes. Mrs. Bennet, having noticed Oliver's proclivities, suggests he spend more time with proper ladies to learn to be more feminine. The scene is a masterclass in dysphoric panic: Oliver's heart pounds, heat spreads through his body, his stomach flops in sickening waves. He dissociates, watching himself speak and move as though someone else was controlling his body.

The aftermath is crucial. Oliver rips off his dress—described as a fabric prison—and changes into trousers, his chest flattener, and a shirt. The relief is immediate: cool relief washing over him as a small smile tugged at his lips. His flattener runs tight around his ribs like a hug, and it was oddly comforting. The contrast between the busked stay (which makes him nauseous) and the binding cloth (which comforts him) is the novel's clearest symbol of how the same body can be experienced differently depending on presentation.

Then Oliver writes his Aspirations list: visit a Molly House, spend several subsequent days dressed as himself without pretending to be a girl, tell the rest of the family and staff who he is, and—written with shaking fingers—kiss a boy as a boy. The list is significant because it names desires that feel impossible. The final item is the most vulnerable because it combines two truths Oliver must hide: his gender and his sexuality. But the act of writing the list is itself a form of self-expression—a private declaration that these aspirations matter even if they seem unattainable.

The Dance: Longing and the Gaze

Chapter 11's dance scene shows dysphoria in a social context. Oliver steps into the line of women and feels the deep sense of wrongness as he's reminded of how the world sees him. The twisting sensation in his gut that demands he step out of line is dysphoria as an urgent, physical imperative.

But the scene also introduces a new dimension: Oliver's admiration of Fitzwilliam Darcy's clothing. He catalogs Darcy's tailored coat, the deep navy blue with black velvet collar, the silver buttons. He wants a coat like it immediately. The passage expands into a fantasy of men's formal wear—trousers, leather shoes, a silk shirt, a cravat, a perfectly tailored overcoat in burgundy or forest green. He could see himself wearing all of it, could imagine what it would be like to see his bound chest dressed to the nines.

This is self-expression as aspiration. Oliver doesn't just want to escape the dress; he wants to participate in the full aesthetic vocabulary of manhood. The longing is specific and material—he can picture the exact garments—which makes the impossibility of ever wearing them feel sharper.

Complexity and Contradiction

The novel doesn't present self-expression as a simple solution. Oliver's joy at the fair is real, but it's also temporary and secret. The freedom he experiences in men's clothes is contingent on returning to the dress, on maintaining the fiction of Elizabeth. The Aspirations list acknowledges this: spending several subsequent days dressed as himself is aspirational precisely because it's not yet possible.

The novel also complicates the idea that clothing alone can resolve dysphoria. George Wickham's dismissal—that Oliver will outgrow such childish notions—and Mrs. Bennet's insistence that Oliver is a young woman who needs to behave like one show that self-expression is not just about what Oliver wears but about how others refuse to see him. The scene where Mrs. Bennet suggests Oliver should expect to defer to a future husband's authority is particularly painful because it reveals the gendered expectations that Oliver's presentation cannot escape.

The historical note adds another layer. The author acknowledges that Molly Houses were made more inclusive than historical evidence suggests, noting that trans people and those in drag were welcome. This is a deliberate choice to imagine a queer community that could have existed, even if the historical record is uncertain. The novel's optimism about Oliver's inheritance—the author chooses to believe a trans man could inherit Longbourn—extends this imaginative project.

Study Questions

1. How does the novel use clothing to dramatize the difference between dysphoria and euphoria? Consider the busked stay in Chapter 1 versus the binding cloth in Chapters 3 and 10. The stay makes Oliver nauseous because it accentuates a shape he doesn't want to see; the binding cloth is oddly comforting and described as like a hug. Both garments affect the same body, but one produces dysphoria and the other produces relief, showing that the problem isn't Oliver's body but how it's presented and perceived.

2. What role does Jane play in Oliver's self-expression? Jane is one of the few people who knows Oliver's truth. She calls him her little brother, offers to cover for him so he can go to the fair, and helped create the binding cloth. Her recognition provides emotional sustenance—this was what he would hold on to tonight—and her practical help enables his escapes. Jane represents the possibility of being seen accurately by someone who loves you.

3. Why does Oliver write the Aspirations list, and what does the final item reveal? The list transforms private desires into concrete goals. The first three items—visit a Molly House, spend days dressed as himself, tell his family—are already difficult. The fourth, kiss a boy as a boy, is written with shaking fingers because it combines two vulnerabilities: his gender and his sexuality. The list shows that self-expression isn't just about clothing but about the full range of experiences Oliver wants to claim.

4. How does the novel handle the tension between Oliver's private self and his public presentation? Oliver maintains a strict separation between Elizabeth and himself, using Charlotte's house as a changing room and the fair as a space where strangers won't recognize him. The encounter with Bingley at the fair threatens this separation. The novel suggests that passing is both liberating and precarious—it allows Oliver to experience joy, but it's a joy that depends on secrecy.

5. What does the epilogue suggest about the relationship between self-expression and love? In the epilogue, Darcy kisses Oliver, who feels euphoric being kissed as a boy. The kiss is the culmination of the Aspirations list's final item. It suggests that being seen and loved as one's true self is the ultimate form of self-expression—not just wearing the right clothes, but being recognized by another person as who you really are.