Queer Comics Revolution: How Indian and Spanish LGBTQIA+ Artists Are Breaking Industry Barriers

"There's a great beauty to being a queer reader. Basically, you're not going to ask for the red book. There's a lot of liberty in that," declared Amruta Patil, India's first female graphic novelist, reflecting on how the absence of a rigid comics canon in India paradoxically liberated queer creators from traditional constraints.

Speaking at the "Dissident Comic: Queer Comics in Spain & India" roundtable during Mes del Orgullo 2025 celebrations at Instituto Cervantes New Delhi, Patil's observation encapsulated a fascinating theme that emerged throughout the evening: how marginalised voices have carved out spaces of creative freedom within—and sometimes despite—established cultural frameworks.

The event, moderated by writer and activist Anish Gawande, brought together three distinctive voices from the world of queer comics: Patil herself, Spanish queer non-binary comic artist Susanna Martín, and Priya Dali, illustrator and Creative Director of Gaysi Family. Their conversation revealed both the challenges and unexpected advantages faced by LGBTQIA+ creators working within different cultural contexts.

Patil elaborated on her striking observation about India's unique position in the comics landscape: "Because we don't have publishing houses connected to comics, and because we don't have a canonical body of comics and literature per se, what happened is that we were unleashed like little wildcards into whatever publishing house would accept us. And subsequently, we were given the same footing as the rest of the people creating literature."

This unconventional pathway, she argued, allowed Indian comic creators to bypass some of the gatekeeping that might have constrained their work elsewhere. "We didn't have the attitude that a comic was great because I got to be in the middle of it for life, or whatever else. And in some ways, the fact of being personal and not part of a world of comics allowed us to not be straightjacketed."

The timing of her early work proved crucial. "My comics were published in 2006 and 2007, so that's pre-2009. So we are talking about different days, not even phase 1. So essentially, my body and my physical person was persona non grata. Nobody knew of me, nobody was waiting for the book. When the book came out, nobody knew who made it."

This anonymity, whilst challenging, offered unexpected protection. "So I escaped, in some ways, the usual feminine trap of my life being equal to my work," Patil explained, highlighting how the lack of established comic industry structures inadvertently shielded creators from some forms of gendered scrutiny.

The Spanish perspective, offered by Susanna Martín, painted a contrasting picture of more established but restrictive industry norms. "In Spain you can't dedicate yourself to comics. There is only one person who lives from comics. So you have to combine it with other jobs," Martín explained, outlining the economic challenges facing comic creators in Spain.

More significantly, Martín highlighted the gendered nature of the Spanish comics industry: "The comic world is very masculine. And even in the schools of art, if there is any work to do with comics, they give it to male students. So it was very difficult to start working with just comics."

However, Martín found strength in collective action. Speaking about the creation of queer comic collectives in Spain, she noted: "When the queer collective was created, there was a lot of stir. There was a lot of change that happened. A lot of strange happenings. And there was a lot of attacks on us and a lot of criticism. Because there were many gentlemen who were working on it."

Despite the resistance, the collective approach proved transformative: "Coming together as a collective has made us stronger. And it has also made lots of people working there stronger."

Martín's creative philosophy centres on representation and personal resonance: "I draw the stories that I create with the characters that I create. I would have liked to read them when I was little. So, for me, feminism or being part of the queer collective is already important."

The conversation also touched on the collaborative nature of comics creation, with Martín describing the partnership between writer and illustrator as "like a tandem. You work as a tandem. The beautiful thing about working with a screenwriter is that it's like an exchange. The screenwriter sends you his script, and you send him your version, your interpretation of his script."

Patil offered her own perspective on collaboration, describing a recent project: "It was two lone wolves appreciating each other's good work... The experience that I got from an opinionated man had some things that were what we were believing, but a lot because he was not only illustrating his words, but ideas discussed in a universe fleshed out by him."

The discussion revealed how both Indian and Spanish contexts present unique challenges and opportunities for queer comic creators. Where Spain offers more established industry structures but faces issues of masculine gatekeeping and economic constraints, India's less developed comics infrastructure paradoxically provided greater freedom from traditional publishing hierarchies.

The roundtable illuminated how graphic novels and comics serve as powerful vehicles for political expression and identity exploration. As Priya noted during the discussion, there have "consistently just been people who have had waves of political opinions that they wish to transmit" through the medium in India, creating "very charged political stories" rather than the "superhero-based kind of stories that are very popular in the graphic novel market."

The event underscored the vital role that queer creators play in expanding the boundaries of comics and graphic novels, using visual storytelling to challenge societal norms and create representation where it previously didn't exist. Through their distinct yet connected experiences, these creators demonstrated how art, activism, and identity intersect to create powerful narratives of resistance and belonging.