Concluding thoughts

In this chapter, I have interpreted the Civil Partnership Act as an act of legal discipline, but we might wonder whether we can also understand it in terms of opening up possibilities for resistance. While law may seek to close off possibilities — to discipline and to domesticate — we also have come to recognise the limits of law’s discursive power. The power of law, after all, is always open to resistance, and the Civil Partnership Act is surely no exception.

It should be remembered that the Act does not completely mirror a marriage model. In at least two respects, it differs. Within the government commentary, there are interesting passages in which it is recognised that somehow (in quite an unexplained way) lesbian and gay relationships are different from marriage. First, and perhaps more obviously, there is no provision within the Act for voidability for lack of consummation:

Consummation has a specific meaning within the context of heterosexual relation­ships and it would not be possible nor desirable to read this across to same-sex civil partnerships. The absence of any sexual activity within a relationship might be evidence of unreasonable behaviour leading to the irretrievable breakdown of a civil partnership, if brought about by the conduct of one of the parties. However, that would be a matter for individual dissolution proceedings.[147]

There is at least an implicit recognition here that same-sex partners may not sign up to quite the same comprehensive package of rights and duties expected within the institution of marriage.

Relatedly, there is no provision for automatic dissolution on the basis of adultery:

Adultery has a specific meaning within the context of heterosexual relationships and it would not be possible nor desirable to read this across to same-sex civil partnerships. The conduct of a civil partner who is sexually unfaithful is as much a form of behaviour as any other. Whether it amounted to unreasonable behaviour on which dissolution proceedings could be grounded would be a matter for individual dissolution proceedings.[148]

Thus, while the supporters of the Act may imagine a particular target constituency — the cohabiting, sexually faithful and sexually active (with each other) same-sex couple — this disciplinary form of relationship is open to resistance within the terms of the Act itself. A couple need not be sharing a home to register as civil partners, nor need they be sexually active with each other, but they could be sexually active with others.

As the government makes clear, the Act is not aimed at home sharers, who may have a more financially intertwined life than same-sex civil partners. This leads to numerous questions: where does partnership end and home sharing begin? When is a couple a couple? When is it not? Is this a matter for individual autonomy or does it test the limits of the law, raising the issue of the authenticity of relation­ships? Might we witness the emergence of a new definition of a pretended family relationship? Perhaps, unwittingly, the Act allows us to bring to the public sphere new ways of living that might come to be recognised (or not) within the language of civil partnership.

Finally, there is surely no better place to engage in acts of resistance than at a wedding, with its abundance of rituals ripe for queer cultural appropriation. It should be remembered that the government itself recognises that there may be an important role for ceremony attached to civil registration. The importance rests not only in assisting the catering industry (an economic good), but presum­ably because the ceremony may further reinforce the seriousness of the occasion and strengthen the long-term emotional and financial commitment that civil partnership signifies.

We might ask what a ‘queer wedding ceremony’ might actually look like. First, a civil partnership ceremony is, perhaps by definition, a queer event, signifying both marriage and not-marriage at the same time. But, moreover, it may be at this ceremony — this strange heady mix of the public and the private — that the full fabulousness of queer existence can be displayed. After all, it is at the wedding reception that the full panoply of mixed-up relationships in which queer lives are embedded can be exposed for public viewing. What could be more queer than that? Imagine the civil partners going off arm in arm with their respective different sexual partners, or back to their separate homes with their respective home sharers. The possibilities — the queer potential — are limited only by the queer imaginary, providing an extraordinary act of resistance (and a great party to boot). Just don’t get me started on the gifts.

Updated: 04.11.2015 — 16:41