Recently,
I’ve been fairly put off by women in literature, though it isn’t their fault. Descriptions
typically tell you little of what the character looks like and a lot about what
turns the author on. Breasts will be mentioned first or second on the list of
her features, and they will grab many more adjectives than any other feature. Repeat
observations on her status, condition, or for use in the particular scene
always seems to head back to the breasts. I’m not upset with fetishizing women,
I am that this sleazy thought process is so ingrained that authors do it
without thinking. As though every reader really only cares about the level of
perky to her tits. I’m not a scumbag and I’d like be recognized as such.
Where I
think women are really getting beat on is with male fantasies running rampant
in the guise of cultural taboo inspection. Recently I’ve read a novel where the
twenty-eight year old male accepted, without complaint, his destiny to get with
a fourteen year old girl. Another where an eleven year old (female) wanted to
marry the early twenty-something (male). I’ve read about a society where women
don’t know where babies come from and sex is just something you do with every
guy you know. Another that laughed at the concept of breasts being an area of
the body to be covered (feh, ankles are scandalous). Men’s role remain
unchanged in each of these new incarnations of society. So are we really
exploring cultural taboos through literature or are we creating realms of easy
women? One could look at the book in question as a social artifact, make some
observations on the current status of women as seen by men in whatever time
period the book found publication. But I was reading a story and I’d much
rather stay there. Does the male reader more easily lose himself in these
fantasy worlds by adopting the author’s sexual proclivities? Certainly there
are moments within the narrative designed to be a respite, giving the hero
satisfaction which extends to the reader. What I feel when I have a woman served
on a platter to me is revulsion. The illusion of the author’s GodHand, that
feeling when reading that the story is from a genderless being of pure
authority, is whisked away so quickly, with so little fan-fair, that I am
double shocked by that and also the pervy old man now sitting with me,
whispering tales of young women whose body and mind have been scripted to serve
a hapless man hero.
Please
stop. You are ruining your own story. You are doing so with a smile that is sly
to you and creepy to me.
The
female partner to the male protagonist is designed to be perfect for him. Saint
like. The guy’s a bumbling mess with a mean streak of luck, but she loves him
unconditionally from the moment she sees him even though he rarely, if even,
says or does anything right by her. Funny that. I wonder if the condition many
female characters find themselves in is due to an author’s inability to create
a believable coming-together. Which isn’t a slam. Finding a person in this real
world can often seem a lucky series of events in which nobody does anything
particular to form the union, but it happens anyway, so perhaps personal
experience isn’t the deepest well to draw from. What I’m saying is, if she’s
only there to have magnificent breasts and provide personal closure for the
hero, I’d prefer her left out.
There
is no reason to treat gender as any different than any of the other
constructions of story. It should serve the story in some way. Strip away the
great tits and what does a weak tag-along do for the hero? I vote nothing. Any
calamity that befalls her is a frustration to the story proper. I have rarely,
if ever, felt anything but happiness at the prospect of some little tart getting
killed. Usually she does something dumb to get into the situation. I think it
would be good for the hero. Toughen him up while providing more focus. If there
must be a love interest, can they be an honest character?
The
lack of female characters in stories is distressing (also: curious) because
there is no reason for it. Often times the male lead isn’t all that manly. Though
I’m loathe to start drawing lines to decide where and what manliness is. I like
that male characters don’t all need to be Conan or worry for half the story if
they’re living up to their father’s ideals. The point is, characters themselves,
as is, could be shifted to a different body with no difference in overall
narrative. I wonder if this area just gets glossed over in an author’s creative
process. Perhaps they only think of Who and How someone beats the ArchFiend,
and plug in a male just to get the gears moving forward. Perhaps it’s just for
comfort. To know the emotions, social markers, ect, and thus be able to handle
any contingency the story might present(as stories don’t seem to be all planned
from the start). Though the character is
then taken to such ends that personal experience means little to nothing. Is
there a different gender reaction to being named the Chosen Hero? Only if the
story is located in actual Human time, with the full history guiding
perception. I like to think that if creating another world, alien races, and
uncontrollable powers, why not make the sexes equal? I read mostly Fantasy and
Science-Fiction, but the imbalance is in more stories and in more ways within
Fantasy. Makes me think there’s something in the Fantasy story construction
process that tilts the mind to naming males in leading roles. Because even
though it’s an alternate world, Fantasy is perceived as somewhere in some
history, not a future or present. Then are prejudices leaking in by
association?