July has been literature month here at Leda's Revenge, and except for a foray into the world of children's books, it's been pretty serious. Here's a more lighthearted post to wrap it all up.
I'd like to return to my distaste for Stephanie Meyer's best-selling vampire books by sharing an old but awesome video. In the words of its creator, this remix exposes "some of the more sexist gender roles and patriarchal... themes embedded in the Twilight Saga." For those who haven't yet seen it, here's feminist icon Buffy the Vampire Slayer vs. manipulative stalker (and vampire) Edward Cullen. Enjoy.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Feminism and Literature: Tough Topics
[trigger warning]
“But if she were in an abusive relationship, she would have called the police, right?”
Or wait, maybe it's: “Why did she drop the charges if he really raped her?”
There are a lot of reasons why women (and men) who have been abused or assaulted don't speak out or press charges. Our culture of victim-blaming isn't exactly conducive to sympathy. But beyond that, they may feel ashamed or afraid. They may be too young to properly understand the situation. They may still be in the relationship, with their abuser threatening them or making them think no one will believe them. They may feel that their most intimate details shouldn't be shared. They may be concerned about making their marginalized group (minorities or LGBT folks, for example) look bad. And of course, testimonies can get retracted after attacks on the victim's character or threats from the perpetrator's allies.
What does this mean for literature? Well, odds are that everyone reading this knows at least one person whose life has been affected by sexual assault or domestic violence. No one wants to ask about this very personal topic, and even fewer want to discuss the details of their experience. But no matter how private or none-of-my-business we believe domestic violence and sexual assault to be, the truth is, we should all be aware of these situations. We need to understand assault and abuse so we can work toward ending them. What would a world without violence or coercion look like? How can we create that world?
One way to learn more is to read. Studying statistics and combing over research can be dry reading that is easily forgettable. However, in the hands of the right author, a memoir or piece of fiction can illuminate a situation and make it oh so memorable- perhaps a little too memorable for folks who have undergone a similar experience. But for friends, family, and other support people, below is a very short list of books dealing with rape, incest, and abuse. Perhaps one of these fictional accounts mirrors a situation we've encountered in real life and can help us begin to comprehend what our loved one is going through. Read one, read all, or suggest more in the comments section.
Bastard Out of Carolina by Dorothy Allison- Ruth Ann “Bone” Boatwright is born to an unwed, 15-year-old mother who is constantly struggling to make ends meet. Her mother marries "Daddy Glen", and soon Bone's stepfather is physically and sexually abusing her. Based on Dorothy Allison's real-life experiences, Bastard Out of Carolina examines age, gender and social class as factors in abusive situations.
The Color Purple by Alice Walker- This Pulitzer Prize winner tells the story of a poor, black woman in 1930s Georgia. Celie writes letters from the age of 14 on, describing first incest, then her forced marriage to an abusive man. A very well-written but very explicit book.
My Year of Meats by Ruth Ozeki- One woman, Jane Takagi-Little, deals with stereotypes of women while making television shows for the meat industry. Another, Akiko Ueno, watches the finished products while attempting to dodge abuse from her husband. The book focuses on women's issues and on the imperfections of the meat industry, and somehow manages to tie them together.
The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros- Esperanza (meaning “hope”) tells us tales of trapped women in a series of vignettes about her poor, hispanic neighborhood. One friend is abused by her father; Esperanza herself is assaulted by a group. She vows to get out of her neighborhood, but to return to help those left behind.
“But if she were in an abusive relationship, she would have called the police, right?”
Or wait, maybe it's: “Why did she drop the charges if he really raped her?”
There are a lot of reasons why women (and men) who have been abused or assaulted don't speak out or press charges. Our culture of victim-blaming isn't exactly conducive to sympathy. But beyond that, they may feel ashamed or afraid. They may be too young to properly understand the situation. They may still be in the relationship, with their abuser threatening them or making them think no one will believe them. They may feel that their most intimate details shouldn't be shared. They may be concerned about making their marginalized group (minorities or LGBT folks, for example) look bad. And of course, testimonies can get retracted after attacks on the victim's character or threats from the perpetrator's allies.
What does this mean for literature? Well, odds are that everyone reading this knows at least one person whose life has been affected by sexual assault or domestic violence. No one wants to ask about this very personal topic, and even fewer want to discuss the details of their experience. But no matter how private or none-of-my-business we believe domestic violence and sexual assault to be, the truth is, we should all be aware of these situations. We need to understand assault and abuse so we can work toward ending them. What would a world without violence or coercion look like? How can we create that world?
One way to learn more is to read. Studying statistics and combing over research can be dry reading that is easily forgettable. However, in the hands of the right author, a memoir or piece of fiction can illuminate a situation and make it oh so memorable- perhaps a little too memorable for folks who have undergone a similar experience. But for friends, family, and other support people, below is a very short list of books dealing with rape, incest, and abuse. Perhaps one of these fictional accounts mirrors a situation we've encountered in real life and can help us begin to comprehend what our loved one is going through. Read one, read all, or suggest more in the comments section.
Bastard Out of Carolina by Dorothy Allison- Ruth Ann “Bone” Boatwright is born to an unwed, 15-year-old mother who is constantly struggling to make ends meet. Her mother marries "Daddy Glen", and soon Bone's stepfather is physically and sexually abusing her. Based on Dorothy Allison's real-life experiences, Bastard Out of Carolina examines age, gender and social class as factors in abusive situations.
The Color Purple by Alice Walker- This Pulitzer Prize winner tells the story of a poor, black woman in 1930s Georgia. Celie writes letters from the age of 14 on, describing first incest, then her forced marriage to an abusive man. A very well-written but very explicit book.
My Year of Meats by Ruth Ozeki- One woman, Jane Takagi-Little, deals with stereotypes of women while making television shows for the meat industry. Another, Akiko Ueno, watches the finished products while attempting to dodge abuse from her husband. The book focuses on women's issues and on the imperfections of the meat industry, and somehow manages to tie them together.
The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros- Esperanza (meaning “hope”) tells us tales of trapped women in a series of vignettes about her poor, hispanic neighborhood. One friend is abused by her father; Esperanza herself is assaulted by a group. She vows to get out of her neighborhood, but to return to help those left behind.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Feminism and Literature: Art vs Artist
Surely everyone (myself included) has experienced disappointment when they found out a celebrity that they liked did something atrocious. Some people choose to live in denial- witness the throngs of Mel Gibson defenders for a recent example- but some wonder if they should divorce themselves from their love and financial support of the offending celeb. It can be difficult to call. One can likely watch Mad Max with impunity, as movies are a collaborative effort. Surely not everyone involved was such a hater.
But what about writers? They are, with some notable exceptions, solely responsible for their output. Do we want to give our money to a person who is known as a misogynist? A racist? Or can we still enjoy a work of literature that was written by someone who we strongly dislike?
I'm not talking about content here. It's easy to feel uncomfortable when the prose itself is sexist. We've heard all about Roth and Updike, Hemingway and Faulkner. I'm talking about behind the scenes. Like Norman Mailer famously stabbing his second wife with a penknife. Like V.S. Naipaul, his racist rants, and the way he used women without giving them anything in return. What does it say about us if we enjoy literature born of these unattractive personalities?
Maybe nothing. Many great artists have something unpalatable in their histories- just like everyone. Some are alcoholics, some are rude, some egotistical, some selfish. Self-aggrandizement or self-destruction can be off-putting, but then again, fame does strange things to people, and notoriety can be quite a curse. But there's a special kind of turn off that comes from harming or discriminating against others. I can understand the many motivations behind drinking to excess, but stabbing your wife... well, that's something else entirely.
What if someone you knew did such things? Would you avoid their company? If you somehow caught wind of a neighbor doing something unthinkable, you likely wouldn't give him any show of support, even if you didn't condemn the actions outright. We don't actually know the folks in question, though, so that makes standing against an action seem less necessary.
We can't know everything about everyone. We all unwittingly give financial or other support to people who have disregarded our strongly-held personal values. Do boycotts achieve the desired result (especially since many authors on this list have already passed)? Public humiliation could be effective, if only we didn't operate on the assumption that “any publicity is good publicity.” And ultimately, what happened has already happened. Our reactions can't change that.
We could be focusing our efforts on prevention rather than opposition, but if calling out someone for their actions helps to change the culture, then perhaps it is worth the effort. What if every time someone famous was found to be an abuser, he didn't get away with it? What if over-the-line sexist or homophobic remarks diminished popularity and financial return? Granted, famous people are still just people at their core, but in our culture, we lift them up above normal status. If someone we idolize says or does something terrible, it is permissioned. Considered normal. It's hard enough to call our friends on jokes made in poor taste, so getting folks to disregard media images can seem like an insurmountable challenge. This isn't as prevalent amongst authors, but it does happen. How many young women adore Stephanie Meyer, author of the abusive-relationship-couched-in-sparkly-vampire-terms Twilight Saga? (How I long for the days when 'tweens read about Hermione, the independent and intelligent heroine in the Harry Potter books.)
There is no right answer. Fortunately, there are options for opting out. We can check out books from the library, where we are not directly financially supporting folks whose views or actions make us uneasy. It goes without saying that we don't have to write fan letters. Maybe we can distance ourselves and still enjoy the book.
But what about writers? They are, with some notable exceptions, solely responsible for their output. Do we want to give our money to a person who is known as a misogynist? A racist? Or can we still enjoy a work of literature that was written by someone who we strongly dislike?
I'm not talking about content here. It's easy to feel uncomfortable when the prose itself is sexist. We've heard all about Roth and Updike, Hemingway and Faulkner. I'm talking about behind the scenes. Like Norman Mailer famously stabbing his second wife with a penknife. Like V.S. Naipaul, his racist rants, and the way he used women without giving them anything in return. What does it say about us if we enjoy literature born of these unattractive personalities?
Maybe nothing. Many great artists have something unpalatable in their histories- just like everyone. Some are alcoholics, some are rude, some egotistical, some selfish. Self-aggrandizement or self-destruction can be off-putting, but then again, fame does strange things to people, and notoriety can be quite a curse. But there's a special kind of turn off that comes from harming or discriminating against others. I can understand the many motivations behind drinking to excess, but stabbing your wife... well, that's something else entirely.
What if someone you knew did such things? Would you avoid their company? If you somehow caught wind of a neighbor doing something unthinkable, you likely wouldn't give him any show of support, even if you didn't condemn the actions outright. We don't actually know the folks in question, though, so that makes standing against an action seem less necessary.
We can't know everything about everyone. We all unwittingly give financial or other support to people who have disregarded our strongly-held personal values. Do boycotts achieve the desired result (especially since many authors on this list have already passed)? Public humiliation could be effective, if only we didn't operate on the assumption that “any publicity is good publicity.” And ultimately, what happened has already happened. Our reactions can't change that.
We could be focusing our efforts on prevention rather than opposition, but if calling out someone for their actions helps to change the culture, then perhaps it is worth the effort. What if every time someone famous was found to be an abuser, he didn't get away with it? What if over-the-line sexist or homophobic remarks diminished popularity and financial return? Granted, famous people are still just people at their core, but in our culture, we lift them up above normal status. If someone we idolize says or does something terrible, it is permissioned. Considered normal. It's hard enough to call our friends on jokes made in poor taste, so getting folks to disregard media images can seem like an insurmountable challenge. This isn't as prevalent amongst authors, but it does happen. How many young women adore Stephanie Meyer, author of the abusive-relationship-couched-in-sparkly-vampire-terms Twilight Saga? (How I long for the days when 'tweens read about Hermione, the independent and intelligent heroine in the Harry Potter books.)
There is no right answer. Fortunately, there are options for opting out. We can check out books from the library, where we are not directly financially supporting folks whose views or actions make us uneasy. It goes without saying that we don't have to write fan letters. Maybe we can distance ourselves and still enjoy the book.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Feminism and Literature: Young Fiction
“Peter, Peter, pumpkin eater,
Had a wife and couldn't keep her.
He put her in a pumpkin shell
And there he kept her, very well.”
Do you really want your children reading something like this?
A lot of literature for kids doesn't cast women in the best light. Stories can be overtly sexist, write female characters as two-dimensional, or imply that certain outdated cultural values should be held in the highest regard. Lots of adults get attached to books they knew as children and, when sentimentality prevails over logic, read these women-negative tales to their own kids. Or maybe because fewer books are written for kids than for adults do we delve again and again into nonsense like the nursery rhyme above. It seems that until very recently, strong female representations were few and far between.
Got a kid? Baby sitting? Here are a few suggestions for stories with good feminist ideals. Please read to girls and boys alike.
The Paper Bag Princess by Robert Munsch: This book does play into the girls-reading-about-princesses stereotype, but that's where it ends. Elizabeth is a clever and brave heroine who stands up to a dragon to save her Prince Charming. When he turns out to be obsessed with her looks above all else, she dumps him.
Princess Smartypants by Babette Cole: "Princess Smartypants did not want to get married. She enjoyed being a Ms." No matter how many suitors, she is always able to find a new, impossible challenge for her hand. No one can meet her demands, and the princess stays happily single. Another smart, independent, self-actualized princess for young readers.
Tough Chicks by Cece Meng: Penny, Polly and Molly aren't your typical chicks; they run wild, wrestle the livestock, and tinker with the tractor. The rest of the barnyard is appalled by their behavior, but mama hen believes they are different in a good way. And of course, their independence saves the day in the end.
The Country Bunny and the Little Gold Shoes by DuBose Heyward: Written in 1939 (!), Country Bunny tells the story of Cottontail. She's always dreamed of becoming the Easter Bunny but shelved her aspirations in order take care of her 21 children. She eventually realizes her goal, winning the job with wisdom, kindness, determination... and speed, a skill perfected by chasing her multitude of children. A refreshing take on mothers and their many talents.
Not all books have an explicitly feminist message, but strong females characters can model one of the most important feminist principles of all- be yourself. Some examples: Harriet The Spy by Louise Fitzhugh, Sabriel by Garth Nix, Pippi Longstocking by Astrid Lindgren, the Ramona Quimby books by Beverly Cleary, Matilda by Roald Dahl, The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle by Avi.
Is your favorite feminist book for young readers missing? Please suggest more in the comments section.
Had a wife and couldn't keep her.
He put her in a pumpkin shell
And there he kept her, very well.”
Do you really want your children reading something like this?
A lot of literature for kids doesn't cast women in the best light. Stories can be overtly sexist, write female characters as two-dimensional, or imply that certain outdated cultural values should be held in the highest regard. Lots of adults get attached to books they knew as children and, when sentimentality prevails over logic, read these women-negative tales to their own kids. Or maybe because fewer books are written for kids than for adults do we delve again and again into nonsense like the nursery rhyme above. It seems that until very recently, strong female representations were few and far between.
Got a kid? Baby sitting? Here are a few suggestions for stories with good feminist ideals. Please read to girls and boys alike.
The Paper Bag Princess by Robert Munsch: This book does play into the girls-reading-about-princesses stereotype, but that's where it ends. Elizabeth is a clever and brave heroine who stands up to a dragon to save her Prince Charming. When he turns out to be obsessed with her looks above all else, she dumps him.Princess Smartypants by Babette Cole: "Princess Smartypants did not want to get married. She enjoyed being a Ms." No matter how many suitors, she is always able to find a new, impossible challenge for her hand. No one can meet her demands, and the princess stays happily single. Another smart, independent, self-actualized princess for young readers.
Tough Chicks by Cece Meng: Penny, Polly and Molly aren't your typical chicks; they run wild, wrestle the livestock, and tinker with the tractor. The rest of the barnyard is appalled by their behavior, but mama hen believes they are different in a good way. And of course, their independence saves the day in the end.
The Country Bunny and the Little Gold Shoes by DuBose Heyward: Written in 1939 (!), Country Bunny tells the story of Cottontail. She's always dreamed of becoming the Easter Bunny but shelved her aspirations in order take care of her 21 children. She eventually realizes her goal, winning the job with wisdom, kindness, determination... and speed, a skill perfected by chasing her multitude of children. A refreshing take on mothers and their many talents.Not all books have an explicitly feminist message, but strong females characters can model one of the most important feminist principles of all- be yourself. Some examples: Harriet The Spy by Louise Fitzhugh, Sabriel by Garth Nix, Pippi Longstocking by Astrid Lindgren, the Ramona Quimby books by Beverly Cleary, Matilda by Roald Dahl, The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle by Avi.
Is your favorite feminist book for young readers missing? Please suggest more in the comments section.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Feminism and Literature: Tales of Passion
Isabel Allende is an author known for her strong female characters. Since her first novel, The House of the Spirits, Allende's tales of passion have focused on feminism and empowering women. Here she tells tales of tough, brave, inspirational women, but not from her books- these women are real.
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