Trope Tuesday: Rebellious Princess

Marle2You know that innocent and beautiful fairy tale princess, with the tricked out dress and the power to summon woodland creatures?  The one with a tendency to get kidnapped, but who always ends up happily ever after with her prince charming?

Yeah, that’s not this princess.

A rebellious princess would just as soon puke if she were any of those things.  She hates being royalty–she’d rather be one of the common folk, or at least be out doing something (which is why she’s often involved in politics).  She hates all those frilly dresses and tends to wear her hair in a tomboyish ponytail.  Rather than wait for her white knight to save her, she’s much more likely to be an action girl in disguise, or at least something of a badass.  When she grows up, she may become a lady of war.  Invariably, she hates whatever marriage has been arranged for her and often scandalizes those of her class to marry for love (if she even marries at all).

As you might have already guessed, this trope is extremely common, not the least because the princess classic has largely been discredited (at least, outside of Disney).  There’s a lot of variation on it too, with some stories featuring the rebellious princess as the love interest, and others showcasing her as the hero.

George R.R. Martin (Song of Ice and Fire) deconstructs the trope with Arya, who eventually becomes something of a sociopath, and Brandon Sanderson (Elantris) subverts it with Sarene, who very much has the personality but uses her royal position to her advantage.  Frank Herbert (Dune) zigzags with Lady Jessica, who is undylingly loyal to the Atreides family but rebels against the Bene Gesserit.  As you might expect, J.R.R. Tolkien plays it straight, not once but twice: Éowyn in Lord of the Rings, and Lúthien in The Silmarillion.

It transcends cultures, too.  In Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, Jen might not technically be royalty, but she is the governor’s daughter and she does reject an arranged marriage to run away and become a wandering warrior.  And in classic RPGs, especially the old Japanese ones from Square, this trope is everywhere.  The princess in the picture above is Marle from Chrono Trigger, who fits this trope to a T.

So why is this trope so prevalent nowadays?  Probably because the modern feminist movement led us to discard most of our old-fashioned feminine ideals, as well as the characters who were held up as shining examples of them.  That, and rule of drama.  Everything ultimately comes down to rule of drama.

In my own work, Hikaru from Stars of Blood and Glory is an example of this trope, though she’s more of a president’s daughter than a hero or a love interest.  She does have her own story arc, though, and I’ve got a sequel in the works with her as the main character.  Scientists aren’t exactly royalty, but they do consider themselves elites in Genesis Earth, which means that Terra has echoes of this trope.  And in Heart of the Nebula (as-yet unpublished), I’ve got a character who isn’t exactly rebellious, but she does qualify as a badass princess (though the society in question is a perfect techno-democracy and not a monarchy).

Trope Tuesday: The Bechdel Test

The Bechdel Test is a way to measure how prominently women figure in a story.  It mostly comes up in discussions of TV and film, but can also be applied to works of literature.  To pass the test, the story must have

  1. at least two named female characters
  2. who talk to each other
  3. about something other than men.

The surprising thing, as you can see in this discussion of the trope, is that so few stories actually pass this test. Even in literature, works like The Odyssey, Romeo & Juliet, and even War & Peace fail to pass or only barely pass this test.

Closely related to the Bechdel Test is the Smurfette Principle, where only one of the major characters is female–the token chick.  Stories that fail to pass the first part of the test fall into this category.

So why does this happen?  It may be because most writers are male, but that isn’t necessarily true of books and literature.  Novel writing, after all, was originally considered a womanly pursuit, and the English major was created in the so that women could have something to study while they were in college.  Not surprisingly, 19th century works by female writers like the Bronte sisters tend to pass…

…or do they?  It’s been a while since I read Jane Eyre or Pride and Prejudice, but the impression I got was that the women in those books spend only really talk with each other about men.  And when you look to contemporary writers like Dickens and Tolstoy, the trend holds.  After all, how many female characters are there in A Christmas Carol?  Do any of them ever even talk to each other?

This isn’t necessarily a measure of how good or bad a story is, or even of how feminist it is (Aliens, after all, technically passes), but it is a measure of how independent and well rounded the female characters really are.  If the story doesn’t pass, it’s a sign that the women only play a role in relation to the men, or that the male characters are the ones who advance the plot.

I don’t usually like to bring up my own stories in relation to these tropes, but I thought it would be useful to apply this test to my own books and see how they shape up.  As a writer, I think it’s a good idea to do this periodically, to make sure my work isn’t slipping into a rut.  So here we go:

Genesis Earth

Point 1: Yes, there are two named female characters: Terra and Stella.

Points 2 & 3: No, they never talk.  However, when you apply the reverse Bechdel test (two men who talk to each other about something other than women), Genesis Earth only barely passes.  Michael talks with Tom in the first chapter, mostly about Terra, and for the rest of the book he and Terra are alone.

Bringing Stella Home

Point 1: Yes, it passes.  Named female characters include: Stella McCoy, Danica Nova, Anya Sikorsky, Tamu, Lady Borta, Lady Zeline, Sergeant Maria.

Point 2: Yes; in most of Stella’s scenes, she’s talking with Tamu or Borta or one of the other Hameji women.  Also, since Danica is the captain of the Tajji Flame and Anya is the chief pilot, they interact quite a bit.

Point 3: Yes, but just barely.  In most of their scenes together, Stella and Tamu are talking about Qasar or the harem or sex.  There are a couple where they talk about each other and their past, but it all relates back to their captivity under the Hameji.  At one point later in the book, Anya goes AWOL and Danica has to talk her down, which is probably the scene that makes the book pass, but a hardcore feminist might argue that that conversation is indirectly about a man.  Still, I’m counting it.

Desert Stars

Point 1: Yes, there are plenty of women.  In fact, as you can see from this list of non-minor characters, there are almost as many women as there are men:

Female Male
Mira Jalil
Shira Sathi
Zayne Hamza
Tiera Rumiya
Lena Gregor
Surayya Kariym
Amina Ashraf
Rina Ibrahim
Sarah Lars
Michelle Nash
Mark
Will

Point 2: Yes, plenty of these women talk to each other.  Surayya and Amina are practically joined at the hip, Tiera, Shira, and Lena all have private conversations with Mira, and the only time Rina even talks is when she and Mira are alone.

Point 3: While most of the conversations between the female characters revolve around men and marriage, Tiera talks with Mira about honor, and Rina talks with Mira about leaving home.  Without spoiling too much, there are other conversations that have nothing to do with men, though they happen off-stage and only get reported second-hand.  Either way, I’d say this book passes.

None of this is to say that a good story must pass the Bechdel test.  Lawrence of Arabia, for example, doesn’t have a single female actress–not one single actress!–and it’s an amazing film.  As a counterpoint, I’m sure there are plenty of good stories out there (most of them probably anime or manga) that do not pass the reverse Bechdel test.

However, it is a good measure of female presence and how much the story is driven by men.  And as a lens through which to view the wider culture, it offers a surprising and somewhat disturbing perspective on male-domination in fiction.

Momentum slowly building

I wrote about 2.2k words today in ITND–not a bad amount, but I feel as if it could have been much more.  I think I spent more time thinking about the novel than I did actually writing it, which is either 1) a sign that I’m procrastinating too much, or 2) a sign that I’m slowly building momentum.

Trouble is, it’s hard to tell the difference between the two.  When I haven’t worked on a project for a while, I’m often restless for a couple of days before I settle back into the zone.  The weird thing, though, is that while I’m pacing restlessly around, I’ll be writing out lines of dialog or paragraphs of description in my head.  Weird.

I think I’ve got a good idea where I’m going with this project, though.  The thing that hung me up on the first attempt was that I did a poor job introducing one of the viewpoint characters (Kyla Jeppson), even though I did a good job outlining her.  I’ve given that scene to my online writing group, so hopefully they’ll give me some good feedback tomorrow.  However, I still have to read the other submissions, and it’s getting late, so I’ll probably just cut this short and go to bed.

But first…what the heck, provo craigslist?

I swear, one hundred years from now, our contemporary attitudes towards women will seem as wrong-headed and despicable as the last century’s attitudes seems to us.  Honestly, which is worse: turning women into domestic house slaves, or turning them into mindless sex objects?  And we consider ourselves feminists…

…but that’s a post for another time.  G’night!

Sexism in reverse

One of the blogs I like to follow is postsecret.  It’s basically this project where people anonymously send in their secrets on postcards, and this guy posts them online.  At times, it can be raunchy and gross, but it’s always very honest and I like that.  Plus, it’s a great place to go for story ideas.

This week, there was a particularly disturbing one–and the most disturbing thing wasn’t necessarily the secret on the card, but my reaction (or lack thereof) to it.  Here’s what it said:

I wish there was a place for me to go on a regular basis to find great looking men to pick up and safely bring home and have sex with me.  I am in my 40s and have needs.

I am a professional woman working for a well known company.

The image on the postcard was of a bunch of ten to fourteen year old boys on a beach smiling for the camera and flexing their scrawny muscles.

Initially, I didn’t have too much of a reaction to this.  As I glanced over it, my first thought was: “oh dear, another raunchy secret.” My second thought was: “Huh, I guess women have needs too.”

My third thought didn’t come until ten hours later, when I was driving home from my brother in laws.  For some reason, the postcard came into my mind, and I started to wonder: what kind of a person would write such a thing?

The comment about being a professional made me think that the woman might be some kind of CEO.  If she’s a CEO, she’s probably used to being in charge and controlling people.

Instantly, the secret began to feel a little bit sinister.

I then started wondering about the kind of “young men” she wants to pick up.  Does she want someone she can dominate?  Someone young, like in the picture?  That’s when I started to feel disturbed.

But then, as I reflected a bit more on it, I started to wonder why it didn’t disturb me as much at first.  Does it have something to do with the way our society sees men and women?  That women and girls are sexually vulnerable, but men and boys aren’t?

Here’s a question–what if the postcard had said this:

I wish there was a place for me to go on a regular basis to find great looking girls to pick up and safely bring home and have sex with me.  I am in my 40s and have needs.

I am a professional man working for a well known company.

Superimposed, of course, on an image of fourteen year old girls in bikinis.

It’s a lot more disturbing than the first one, isn’t it?  But why should that be so? Is there really any difference between a middle aged man seeking young girls and a middle aged woman seeking young boys?  How screwed up is it that we think there is?

That’s when I started to get really disturbed–when I realized how much I’d unconsciously bought into the screwed  up worldview of our modern society.

Anyhow, I just thought I’d point it out, because sexism is not a one way thing.  Sometimes, it can be really frustrating when people forget that.

Jemma 7729 by Phoebe Wray

The following is a book review I wrote for The Leading Edge. It will be coming out in the November issue, along with my short story Decision LZ150207.  The editors gave me permission to post the review here.  Be sure to pick up a copy of the magazine when it comes out!

Jemma is a rebel, fighting against a system that teaches women to be obedient and submissive and “alters” those who refuse to assimilate.  After escaping the giant dome cities of a post-apocalyptic California, Jemma joins with a band of rebels known as the Movers in the free, uncultivated country.  But as her reputation grows and the people in the domes begin to take up arms, the government stops at nothing to hunt Jemma down and silence her for good.

With images reminiscent of Brave New World, 1984, and A Handmaid’s Tale, Jemma7729 is a dystopian, post-apocalyptic novel with a YA feel.  The first half of the book details Jemma’s childhood and her transformation from daughter of two mid-level government workers to a rebel fighting to overthrow the system.  I enjoyed the first part of this novel, with its intimate human drama and its resourceful, sympathetic viewpoint character.  The story was paced well and kept my interest.

The second half of the book, however, was somewhat disappointing.  Once Jemma escapes the domes and begins her campaign as a rebel terrorist, the story loses a lot of tension.  Even though she is barely a twelve year old girl, she still, without any outside assistance, manages to blow up almost a dozen government facilities without getting caught or killed.  The villains’ reasons for creating such an oppressive, anti-feminist regime are never adequately explained, and when Jemma starts to fight back, the government is too weak to put up a believable resistance.  The middle of the novel lags considerably, with very little real action or suspense.

When the pace finally does pick up again, about forty pages from the end, the action is so confusing and happens so quickly that I felt completely lost.  The main character’s voice gets lost in a blow-by-blow account of impossibly rapid events, as if the author was trying to compress two hundred pages of story into less than a quarter of that space.  I fount it disappointing and inconsistent with the tone of the rest of the book.  However, the twist at the end caught me by surprise and gave me some degree of satisfaction as I finished the book, though I would have been more satisfied if the last half of the book had been as good as the first half.

Review of JEMMA7729
Joe Vasicek
Jemma is a rebel, fighting against a system that teaches women to be obedient and submissive and “alters” those who refuse to assimilate.  After escaping the giant dome cities of a post-apocalyptic California, Jemma joins with a band of rebels known as the Movers in the free, uncultivated country.  But as her reputation grows and the people in the domes begin to take up arms, the government stops at nothing to hunt Jemma down and silence her for good.
With images reminiscent of Brave New World, 1984, and A Handmaid’s Tale, Jemma7729 is a dystopian, post-apocalyptic novel with a YA feel.  The first half of the book details Jemma’s childhood and her transformation from daughter of two mid-level government workers to a rebel fighting to overthrow the system.  I enjoyed the first part of this novel, with its intimate human drama and its resourceful, sympathetic viewpoint character.  The story was paced well and kept my interest.
The second half of the book, however, was somewhat disappointing.  Once Jemma escapes the domes and begins her campaign as a rebel terrorist, the story loses a lot of tension.  Even though she is barely a twelve year old girl, she still, without any outside assistance, manages to blow up almost a dozen government facilities without getting caught or killed.  The villains’ reasons for creating such an oppressive, anti-feminist regime are never adequately explained, and when Jemma starts to fight back, the government is too weak to put up a believable resistance.  The middle of the novel lags considerably, with very little real action or suspense.
When the pace finally does pick up again, about forty pages from the end, the action is so confusing and happens so quickly that I felt completely lost.  The main character’s voice gets lost in a blow-by-blow account of impossibly rapid events, as if the author was trying to compress two hundred pages of story into less than a quarter of that space.  I fount it disappointing and inconsistent with the tone of the rest of the book.  However, the twist at the end caught me by surprise and gave me some degree of satisfaction as I finished the book, though I would have been more satisfied if the last half of the book had been as good as the first half.