So I was reading a book the other day, and in it was a heroine who described herself as plain and unappealing and unlovable. Fine by me, I thought, and waited for her to change her mind. She did seem to feel better about her looks because a boy liked them. I waited for something else: she ended the book convinced she was nothing much.
I closed the book with a slam and thought 'What--what--what is this?'
But I knew what it was.
A while ago, Karen Healey wrote a post asking women to say positive things about themselves - it was shockingly hard to write positive stuff about myself without adding qualifiers: saying 'I'm quite' or 'I'm a bit' or 'But of course not as good as...' Because if I did, people wouldn't like me. I wouldn't like me. I wouldn't be likable, if I said I was good at something.
People write these heroines because they think the heroines won't be likable, if they like themselves.
This is the stuff people have in their heads. And by people, I do mean mainly women. (Which is not to say guys can't be insecure--many are--and guys can't have their heads messed with by the world--all do.) But arrogant guys are often seen as attractive and lovable, described as cocky: them being confident about themselves isn't seen as an awful thing across the board. I don't see guys saying 'I can't relate to Spiderman/Miles Vorkosigan/Iron Man/Sherlock Holmes, no sir, not for me, too awesome!'
Women can't think they're pretty--because then they'll be awful. But they can't not be pretty, because then they'll be awful. In the series of books by L.J. Smith, The Vampire Diaries, Elena Gilbert is a happy, popular, beautiful, totally confident girl who is stunned when a boy doesn't like her. In the TV show, they changed Elena to a girl who's sad and recently bereaved, no longer terribly interested in popularity, who's quit cheerleading--specifically because they thought people wouldn't like the Elena from the books. I really like the show, but that bothers me a lot. I remember when my second book came out, some people said they were glad the heroine was less confident than she seemed in the first book. Some people thought she was still too confident: when the third book came out, it was the other heroine who thought she was too pretty.
There are all sorts of reasons people use to talk about how people shouldn't like girls.
There's ladies being annoying.
There's ladies being 'Mary Sues.' Zoe Marriott recently wrote a post on Mary Sues - which is an excellent post I agree with completely. Also, if you want to check the comments, there is a, uh, frank appraisal of my own appearance, which is an example of the way people discuss real-life ladies, let alone fictional one. It's fairly mild, too, which is why I'm linking it--I don't think I could have linked or laughed about it if it was vile, and I have seen people say absolutely vile things about the appearance of female writers. (I've heard people say absolutely vile things about the appearance of females, full stop, of course.)
The whole business of self-insertion in a narrative worries me a bit. I don't have to relate to a character to like her, or him. I also don't want to put myself in books. I don't want Mr Darcy to kiss me: I don't want to be in Pride and Prejudice. I want Elizabeth Bennet there. I love her, I love reading about her, I love the particular relationship between those specific characters. And yet if people do want to imagine themselves in narratives, it makes me sad that 'thinks she's awesome' is a barrier to them.
Ursula LeGuin said "We read books to find out who we are. What other people, real or imaginary, do and think and feel...is an essential guide to our understanding of what we ourselves are and may become." But what do people find out from books with girls who don't think much of themselves? What do they think they find out about themselves, or the women they know, from those books?
I hesitate to say any of this because I don't want to see any specific fictional lady lambasted for being insecure: loads of people are insecure. And readers naturally criticise girls for anything: that's my whole point.
I am not saying that all girls in books or real life should never be insecure. I know I'm insecure about a bunch of things! And I have loved an insecure fictional lady many times. Sophie in Diana Wynne Jones's Howl's Moving Castle doesn't think she is anything special. Then she gets turned into an old lady, storms a wizard's castle, and realises the things she assumed were true aren't true. And she loves and is loved by a great guy, but that's not the only thing going on with her, or the only thing that helps her to the realisation. Then there's Elizabeth Bennet, who knows she's smart and pretty. Bianca of The Duff doesn't think she's as pretty as her friends, but she knows she's smart and she is never afraid to show it or to stand up for herself. There's a spectrum, and that's how it should be: girls who start out thinking they're not awesome, girls who think they're awesome at certain things, girls who aren't sure what they are, girls who think they're generally awesome.
I just don't want to read about fictional girls who can't think they're awesome. I don't like reading about those characters and I don't like the mindset that produces them. The fictional girls I'm talking about aren't meant to be depressed (I'd like to see more actually-depressed characters in literature: they can be heroes too)--they're meant to seem normal, and likable.
I do not want to read about girls who think they're worthless. I do not want to write about girls who think they're worthless. I do not think I'm worthless.
Nobody has to like a girl, fictional or otherwise. But words like 'annoying' or 'Mary Sue' are both used as shorthand for 'girl I want to dismiss.' We've all read about characters who seemed overly perfect, or who had flaws the narrative wouldn't admit were flaws, and those characters are irritating. But I've seen just as many fictional boys like that as fictional girls (with the caveat that boys tend to get more pagetime, so they get more explored) and those boys don't get seen in the same way. As I was saying on twitter a couple days ago, I want characters to be flawed and awesome: I want them to be flawesome.
Talking about girls in this way is not useful. It just helps along the mindset that girls can't be awesome, the lie all girls get told, whispered in their ears over and over again, all through their lives.
It is not true. It never was. No person, or book, should ever have told them otherwise.
To borrow a phrase from Jeanette Winterson: 'Trust me. I'm telling you stories.' They're full of lies, but not about the important stuff.
I closed the book with a slam and thought 'What--what--what is this?'
But I knew what it was.
A while ago, Karen Healey wrote a post asking women to say positive things about themselves - it was shockingly hard to write positive stuff about myself without adding qualifiers: saying 'I'm quite' or 'I'm a bit' or 'But of course not as good as...' Because if I did, people wouldn't like me. I wouldn't like me. I wouldn't be likable, if I said I was good at something.
People write these heroines because they think the heroines won't be likable, if they like themselves.
This is the stuff people have in their heads. And by people, I do mean mainly women. (Which is not to say guys can't be insecure--many are--and guys can't have their heads messed with by the world--all do.) But arrogant guys are often seen as attractive and lovable, described as cocky: them being confident about themselves isn't seen as an awful thing across the board. I don't see guys saying 'I can't relate to Spiderman/Miles Vorkosigan/Iron Man/Sherlock Holmes, no sir, not for me, too awesome!'
Women can't think they're pretty--because then they'll be awful. But they can't not be pretty, because then they'll be awful. In the series of books by L.J. Smith, The Vampire Diaries, Elena Gilbert is a happy, popular, beautiful, totally confident girl who is stunned when a boy doesn't like her. In the TV show, they changed Elena to a girl who's sad and recently bereaved, no longer terribly interested in popularity, who's quit cheerleading--specifically because they thought people wouldn't like the Elena from the books. I really like the show, but that bothers me a lot. I remember when my second book came out, some people said they were glad the heroine was less confident than she seemed in the first book. Some people thought she was still too confident: when the third book came out, it was the other heroine who thought she was too pretty.
There are all sorts of reasons people use to talk about how people shouldn't like girls.
There's ladies being annoying.
There's ladies being 'Mary Sues.' Zoe Marriott recently wrote a post on Mary Sues - which is an excellent post I agree with completely. Also, if you want to check the comments, there is a, uh, frank appraisal of my own appearance, which is an example of the way people discuss real-life ladies, let alone fictional one. It's fairly mild, too, which is why I'm linking it--I don't think I could have linked or laughed about it if it was vile, and I have seen people say absolutely vile things about the appearance of female writers. (I've heard people say absolutely vile things about the appearance of females, full stop, of course.)
The whole business of self-insertion in a narrative worries me a bit. I don't have to relate to a character to like her, or him. I also don't want to put myself in books. I don't want Mr Darcy to kiss me: I don't want to be in Pride and Prejudice. I want Elizabeth Bennet there. I love her, I love reading about her, I love the particular relationship between those specific characters. And yet if people do want to imagine themselves in narratives, it makes me sad that 'thinks she's awesome' is a barrier to them.
Ursula LeGuin said "We read books to find out who we are. What other people, real or imaginary, do and think and feel...is an essential guide to our understanding of what we ourselves are and may become." But what do people find out from books with girls who don't think much of themselves? What do they think they find out about themselves, or the women they know, from those books?
I hesitate to say any of this because I don't want to see any specific fictional lady lambasted for being insecure: loads of people are insecure. And readers naturally criticise girls for anything: that's my whole point.
I am not saying that all girls in books or real life should never be insecure. I know I'm insecure about a bunch of things! And I have loved an insecure fictional lady many times. Sophie in Diana Wynne Jones's Howl's Moving Castle doesn't think she is anything special. Then she gets turned into an old lady, storms a wizard's castle, and realises the things she assumed were true aren't true. And she loves and is loved by a great guy, but that's not the only thing going on with her, or the only thing that helps her to the realisation. Then there's Elizabeth Bennet, who knows she's smart and pretty. Bianca of The Duff doesn't think she's as pretty as her friends, but she knows she's smart and she is never afraid to show it or to stand up for herself. There's a spectrum, and that's how it should be: girls who start out thinking they're not awesome, girls who think they're awesome at certain things, girls who aren't sure what they are, girls who think they're generally awesome.
I just don't want to read about fictional girls who can't think they're awesome. I don't like reading about those characters and I don't like the mindset that produces them. The fictional girls I'm talking about aren't meant to be depressed (I'd like to see more actually-depressed characters in literature: they can be heroes too)--they're meant to seem normal, and likable.
I do not want to read about girls who think they're worthless. I do not want to write about girls who think they're worthless. I do not think I'm worthless.
Nobody has to like a girl, fictional or otherwise. But words like 'annoying' or 'Mary Sue' are both used as shorthand for 'girl I want to dismiss.' We've all read about characters who seemed overly perfect, or who had flaws the narrative wouldn't admit were flaws, and those characters are irritating. But I've seen just as many fictional boys like that as fictional girls (with the caveat that boys tend to get more pagetime, so they get more explored) and those boys don't get seen in the same way. As I was saying on twitter a couple days ago, I want characters to be flawed and awesome: I want them to be flawesome.
Talking about girls in this way is not useful. It just helps along the mindset that girls can't be awesome, the lie all girls get told, whispered in their ears over and over again, all through their lives.
It is not true. It never was. No person, or book, should ever have told them otherwise.
To borrow a phrase from Jeanette Winterson: 'Trust me. I'm telling you stories.' They're full of lies, but not about the important stuff.
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Comments
Screw that, sez I.
My real qualm with the Twilight books was how self-hating the character of Bella Swan was. Realism is when characters are both flawed and awesome, just like girls (and boys) in real life. If YA is for teaching readers about the world, it should teach girls they can be great. Because they are. *firm face*
You are always so excellent at taking things which I think but can never accurately express so as to convince others of their truthfulness and conveying them so spectacularly that there's nothing to be said apart from 'Why yes, this is the truth. Now can we all realise it world/the internet specifically?' And I love it, and I love you and I love this post and I sort of want to give it to everyone I meet ever who thinks they have a right to hate on any female character (or real life female!) for any reason so ridiculous as 'she's too awesome/pretty/ugly/boring/interesting/p
I actually read that Zoe-Trope post an hour ago, and may or may not have exclaimed aloud over the inclusion of Mae. Yes, I can see you in Mae. However, I can also see you in, well, Nick, Jamie, Alan, Seb, random other bit characters and every single bit of prose whether it relates to a character or not. Which leads me to suspect that whoever labelled Mae a MS did so because, well, she was the only female character in the central four, and happened to be a strong one. This doesn't mean everything about your writing is Mary-Sue. It means that I recognise your ability to have interesting, involved thoughts that are not necessarily Mary-Sueish.
And yes, I have seen that expression used far too often over the last year in relation to characters for whom it simply doesn't make sense, and this post (having a larger sample group than I ever had) helpfully explicates the trend. Even some - honestly, I can see the argument with Harriet Vane, as there are pretty enormous points of similarity between her and Dorothy Sayers, but Sayers thinks about it and uses Harriet to explore in fictional prose (fictional prose which remains effective, be it noted) concepts and arguments which are fascinatingly relevant to her era, especially re. educated women with their own opinions. And every time I re-read Gaudy Night (in particular), every two-three years, I see very different things about Sayers' relationship to the culture in which she lived. That is not cheap character/author wish fulfilment.
And yes, I know what you mean about 'no one will like me if I like this, this and this about myself'. We are bombarded nowadays with simultaneous 'Make your own lifestyle! Believe in yourself' and 'Improve yourself! You will never be perfect unless you buy this product and adhere to this objective!' and, well, against that, the ideals of common courtesy which state that one doesn't just force oneself on everyone even if (one aspect of) common commercialism says one should...
But yesterday? I realised just how many different academic disciplines my thesis covers (english lit, philosophy, mediaeval history generally, archival close analysis, manuscript studies, latin, old french, middle english, cultural studies, religious studies) and in how many contemporary critical arguments it engages (self-identity re. time, chronicles as literary texts rather than just sources of information, interaction between aristocratic classes and local religious institutions re. composition of history, use and shaping of saints' stories, etc, etc) and actually managed, for a moment, to step back and think - wow. Pretty awesome, really. For a masters thesis.
Then, of course, I was back to 'but this paragraph could be BETTER'. For that is the way this works.
Pardon the rambling. Ignore the bits that don't make sense. This is what happens when my brain has been fed solid thesis-crack for two weeks straight with no reprieve from the computer screen. Filter at leisure.
I was very happy to have Mae included in that post.
I have actual issues with Stephanie Meyer & really just want to send her a big plaque that says, "Like a fish needs a bicycle, b*tches." because omg, HAVE SOME SELF-IDENTITY OUTSIDE OF YOUR BOYFRIEND.
However, it's possible I overreact. A little.
;)
~ Claris
www.heroineaddict.me
I'm glad you point out that you're not talking about people who are actually depressed. I've had serious self-esteem/depression issues most of my life, so this kind of negative self-talk is VERY familiar and realistic-sounding and definitely relatable to me. But yes, I expect a heroine who feels that way at the beginning of a book to discover otherwise by the end. You bring up Sophie, for example, who I adore SOOOOO passionately that she's my #3 Top Literary Girl-Crush (I touch on some of these topics there actually), and that's really WHY I love her so much: because she starts OUT all mousy and then rather believably (if you discount the whole curse thing) grows into this person whom it is absolutely impossible to mess with. And then, less dramatically a change, the book that means the most to me in the course of my life is A Wrinkle in Time, which has Meg convinced, at first, that she is a "monster," the completely worthless one, the freak; and the fact that EVEN SHE has a part to play in the Cosmic Battles of Good and Evil, that there are some things only she can do-- that has meant ever so much to me growing up (and as a grownup, too). Who are these characters who don't discover that they're awesome? It seems to be that they're missing an important character arc. That was the arc I wanted the most in my stories. I really DIDN'T want to read SO much about a character who already thought she was awesome (though I was a big Nancy Drew fan), but she'd better LEARN she was by the end. That was the point of a story.
Pardon my buttinski, but the whole point of any decently written book is that the character has to change in some material way by the end. The reason that I prefer to read YA is that the change is usually for the better!
Well, you've gotten your own back on me - if the mention of Mae in my post made you blink, your link to my post nearly made me swallow my own tongue. Thank you kindly. And once again - so sorry about the comment trail nonsense (I know it's not *technically* my fault but, well, you know. Eugh).
Zx
A male friend of mine, who is both a writer and film maker, was expressing his displeasure with the term "strong woman." He was saying that the use of the term, in and of itself, suggests the underlying thought that women are typically weak. I realized that this is true, and have caught myself saying "strong woman," when if a man acted the same way I'd probably have said, "He's a real man."
So, I'm trying to redirect myself to say "She's a real woman" when I see positive traits, and save the term "strong woman" for women who are literally, physically, strong.
Of course, we sometimes get both. Unfortunately, that is rare. I'm sick of seeing movies with women who are supposed to kick ass, but the woman weighs 100 pounds.
My favorite female character in a movie to date is Angela Bassett's character in Strange Days. She is a both a strong woman, and a real woman.
Thanks for writing.
Best to you, and thanks.
I have to say that in books, as in life, it is often the flaws in characters and in people that make them unique and interesting. I teach teenaged girls (and guys, but this post was mostly about girls, so...), and let me tell you something: Each and every one is AMAZING. Each and every one is growing. Each and every one is flawed. Each and every one is special. That's why I love working with them.
I think it's horrible that we adults want to assume that teenagers (or maybe just women/society in general?) don't also recognize this--that it is our differences that make us cool just as much as our sameness does. Because you kind of need both things, right? You need individuality and relatability. This blend of same and different is how I think most of us choose friends, and I know that this is how I choose the heroines I love (they're like friends, right... these people in books? ;-)). When I think about the characters I love the most-- Katniss Everdeen, Kinsey Millhone, Bridget Jones, Elizabeth Bennet, Hermione Granger, *cough*Mae Crawford*cough* (and really this list could Just. Keep. Going.), they all show a lot of everything--being comfortable with themselves, being uncomfortable with themselves (because it's not just one or the other, right.), being awesome/smart/badass, and being wrong/petty/neurotic. That's what makes me love them... how human they are.
To think that we, as a society, need girls to be dumb and unconfident in order to relate to them is ridiculous, and it makes me sad that this is what we see reflected in literature and in media. But, for every Katniss there is a Bella.
I love that you are writing heroines that are full and round and complex. I love that they are showing their awesome and their flaws. Keep doing that, mkay? <3
Anyway, /outrage.
Keep writing your awesome female badass characters and I will keep reading them. We need them in our YA and Adult fiction. Looking forward to Demon's Surrender!
I agree, the same flaws in men would be found to be appealing. It's a warped and twisted world we live in and I just pray I can teach my daughters differently.
ION Demon's Surrender kept me up til 4am last weekend because I HAD TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS. So, go you! You are very awesome :)
I did a webcomic called "Digger" for many years, the heroine of which was a wombat. Five feet tall, built like a tank, claws, etc.
People kept asking me if Digger was based on me, as if it was somehow astonishing that anyone would write a character that was not. At one point, for some reason related to...I dunno, doses of medicine or something...it came out that she weighed 220 lbs, since that seemed about the right ballpark for a wombat that walked upright.
The comments promptly exploded with people claiming that I had of course picked this number because this was MY weight. And one person who clearly lacked the tact t'good lord gave an eggplant pulled up a photo of me--a horrible, third-day-of-a-convention, slumped-behind-the-table badly-fitted-bra-and-terrible-hair photo--and pasted it into the forum to justify his position.
To this day, I cannot imagine that happening to a male comic artist. (Well....maybe Scott Kurtz...)
Aiii. I am horrified by this story, how hideous! I was actually pretty grateful about this comment, because (weirdness of being evaluated aside) it wasn't upsetting to me, so I could use it to talk about the issue.
I'd been wanting to, as I've seen muuuuch worse, but nothing I could point to because TOO AWFUL. And now you have told me of more awfulness: aiii, a picture. I likewise cannot imagine anyone saying that about a dude.
And I was with the annoying essay on most points, save that I firmly believe Sarah Palin is annoying, but that is because she is a numpty, not because she is a woman. Glann Beck is even more annoying. I think it's a trend in American political commentators at the moment.