Subject: Spent the last four weeks studying feminism in literature
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Posted on: 2014-03-26 18:25:00 UTC
... What I'm getting out of this article is that fandoms often dislike heroines who fall somewhere between Black Widow (displays few emotions, kills lots of stuff,) and someone like, say, Jane Bennett, who is squeakily, shinily nice to everyone and has pretty much no self-direction whatsoever. Male characters are in general cut more slack, even if their behavior isn't realisitic for their situation.
Interesting, though, that the author defines "likable" as such a lukewarm accomplishment - note that conforming to feminine stereotypes won't actively achieve anything for you, under this definition, just supposedly protect you from other people's disappointment and rejection.
Speaking of individual characters:
Elizabeth Bennett: okay, I'll give that she conforms to the standards of her society, but she's the heroine because, unlike her older sister Jane, she does actually deploy her snark against people and defy some expectations. Jo March, likewise, was written during her time intentionally to cast off feminine stereotypes.
Meg Murray's not a great example in the works of L'Engle for the type of heroine the author describes, except maybe in later books which focus on her daughter Polly, when Meg has dedicated her life to raising her many children. Vicky Austen or Meg's mother, Katharine Murray, are better examples: Katharine is a sort of domestic goddess, who is depicted as 100% selfless, and able to easily make groundbreaking forward strides in biology while cooking for her husband and children over a bunsen burner in her lab. Vicky is a poet who clashes with her far more ambitious younger sister and who is relied upon to be the stable caretaker and secondary mother for the younger siblings, and the emotional anchor for her elder brother, who spends most of her adolescence making his life, or her parents' lives, easier. Her reward is not to achieve literary eminence, but to be married off to her first high school sweetheart, despite the number of times she gets mixed up in the weirdness of time and causality in the L'Engle universe. Unlike Meg or Polly, she does not take an active role in shaping her destiny or that of her family: her choices are all about domesticity, supporting her friends and siblings, and which of her love interests will make a more suitable husband.
Matilda also isn't a great example of "likeability" in the context of this essay: the proper one would be Miss Honey, who lives a life of demure poverty because she can't stand up to her aunt. Matilda, on the other hand, has resorted to petty revenges to get back at her neglectful parents - any demureness on her part is mostly a facade.
I'd still say that the four above are, on a sliding scale, more traditionally feminine or at least compliant than the other heroines mentioned, and that they do exist on or near the unrealistic line drawn in the sand for society's expectations of women. I also think it's interesting that most of the heroines who are allowed to be difficult are comparatively young:
Amy March, the youngest of the Marches, spent most of Little Women having her behavior corrected until she became demure and ladylike enough to win the approval of their rich elderly relation (and eventually Laurie, though I won't get into that.)
Mary from The Secret Garden was "civilized," through becoming a devoted supporter of her male friend and learning to conform.
Lyra did not become a conformist as such, despite having a love interest and the implication that young love determines the shape of your soul, which is one of the main reasons I like her so much. She matured without becoming demure or ladylike: she learned to pick her battles so that she could fight them all the harder.
Susan surprises me that she's in this category, but then I remembered that Susan is set up to fail throughout the Chronicles of Narnia. Despite the fact that she superficially conforms to society's expectations of a young woman and that she plays the mother role throughout the Narnia books, she's always going to come second to Lucy's incorruptible pure pureness, and it's mostly because she is stepping up to fill the role of their absent parents in earlier books and attempting to carve out an identity of her own in the real world in later books. Jill Poole might be a little more straightforward of an example: she deals with plenty of her own selfish decisions, but she and Eustace are equals in their books, and she's shown as trying very hard to stand up for herself in the midst of a rather awful school in the beginning of The Silver Chair.
Hermione also changes and gets transformed into a more socially conforming girl in later books (book four's beautiful all along moment comes to mind,) but she actually gains moral complexity along the way too. Like the Murray women, she's a complicated example because she represents the female intellectual.
Hang on. I'm going to go write an essay on this now.