Thursday, October 2, 2014

The Feminist Reimaginings of Once Upon a Time, Season One

I know I’m late to this party, but I just started watching Once Upon a Time and I’m pretty over the moon about it. I’ve been warned it takes a huge dive in quality around season 3, but season 1 blew me away for a number of reasons.

I’m a sucker for reimaged fairy tales – I still get a thrill every time I read/see/listen to Wicked. For starters, contemporary adaptations of classic tales are often infused with a healthy dose of feminism inevitably lacking in the original. And, given that audiences typically know the original inside and out, whatever alterations are made to it that allow female characters a wider range of personalities and powers, well, those alterations pop. The changes are so jarring that they make audiences consciously aware of the way women historically have been treated in literature, and how amazing and wonderful it is when they’re given more options.

OUaT grabbed me from the pilot and never let go, in large part because the women in it are such powerhouses. When the Queen disrupts her wedding, Snow White doesn’t cry or hide behind her prince – she grabs his sword. And while Charming might have awakened her with a kiss, she rescued him a dozen other ways before then. Mary Margaret can be a tad saccharine, but Snow rides, fights, schemes, and lives fully in a way that the original character was never allowed to do.

And dear lord, how clever and feminist to reinvent Red Riding Hood and Granny as werewolves. Neither woman is the victim of a male predator – they’re fierce and dangerous beasts who can annihilate Snow’s enemies, right along with all the fairies. Plus, how progressive for the show to avoid devoting scene upon scene – or even a single minute of screen time – to Red wallowing self-pity or self-flagellation after she learns what she is and who she’s killed.

And let’s talk about the queer family that Regina, Emma, and Henry form. I’m not a fan-girl who reads sexual tension between Regina and Emma (although it’s fine with me if you are and do), but it’s undeniable that the Henry has two moms. They might despise each other, but Regina and Emma unite in moments of desperation when Henry’s wellbeing is at stake. There is no traditional nuclear family in OUaT – the closest thing we have to one is these three, with Regina and Emma coming across like divorced parents negotiating custody.



Here we are, in a small town in Maine, with a female sheriff, and a female mayor who wears epic pantsuits. And let’s not for a moment forget one of the best, most feminist lines I’ve ever heard on cable television, said by Regina to Belle about the narrative arc of Beauty and the Beast: “Oh, child, no. I would never suggest a young woman kiss a man who held her captive. What kind of message is that?” It might be exactly what Belle does, but at least now we feel that she is aware of the troubling undertones of her choice and she has more agency when she makes it.

So carry on, Once Upon a Time. I can’t wait to see what these women do in Season Two.



Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Why I love Pretty Little Liars (even when it's terrible).

*spoiler alert – this post references events in Season Five!*

My wife keeps asking me why I watch PLL, and telling me I have no leg to stand on when I mock her TV preferences (which include a lot of reality television).

It's true that there’s a lot to critique in the writing and acting of PLL, but no where else on television is there a show dedicated to so many women (let’s face it, these aren’t exactly high school girls), in which their relationships to men are so secondary. The main obstacle in these ladies’ lives is not snagging a man, or keeping him, or reading his mind, or any of the other inane topics Sex in the City or even Scandal tackled week after week. Despite its predominately female cast, I’m pretty sure SITC doesn’t pass the Bechdel test. (And I've already blogged about the feminist problems with Scandal.)

The ladies of PLL are primarily concerned with blackmail, surveillance, and stalking. And when the conflict is girl-on-girl, it’s nothing like the cat-fights most female conflicts are reduced to. And it’s not over a man. It’s about agency and control.



In a culture that denies girls the opportunity for physical violence, female conflict plays out in social ways – some call it social aggression. But in PLL, the social aggressor – Alison – is the one everyone gangs up on, the one no one likes, the ostracized one. And what starts as social aggression is allowed to grow into full on physical aggression. Week after week the Liars confront (and enact) forms of aggression traditionally reserved for men. By the beginning of season five, two of them have killed someone. They are allowed a wide range of expression including not just feminized emotions but raw anger, calculated strategy, and defiance.

Their moms are professionals. There’s an inordinate number of lesbians in this small town in Pennsylvania. When the show is far-fetched, it’s not because a woman has thrown herself behind a potted plant to spy on the guy she likes; it’s because the writers seem not to understand how time works.

These ladies have each other’s backs. They don’t turn on each other or compete with one another in manufactured ways. It’s them against the police, school administrators, and other systems of authority that deny young women agency. And they’re going to come out on top.


Thursday, June 26, 2014

The changing gender landscape of Orphan Black, season 2 and beyond


*Note* Spoilers ahead! This post assumes you’ve watched the end of season 2

I’m a huge fan of Orphan Black, and I want to state up front that this blog praises the show on many levels.

But first, I have to confess I was really sad at the second season ending. For a show that has been so refreshingly and unapologetically feminist to introduce a line of male clones felt to me like an abandonment of its core principles. I turned off the TV disappointed that next season will be filled with men going through many of the same issues our favorite clones have been facing. I felt like Helena’s raping Henrik was the perfect antidote to all the conversations exploding about the many rape scenes in Game of Thrones, and the way women are still objectified in si-fi/fantasy genres. So I wasn’t ready for my favorite female characters on TV to secede precious screen time to men.


As I’ve mulled over this new development, however, I grew increasingly excited to see what this progressive show does with masculinity. The writers have a strong track record of exploring masculinity just as thoroughly as they do femininity. From the emasculated Donny to the effeminate Felix to the hyper-masculine Paul, the show challenges conventional notions of what it means be a man.

One of the most underutilized aspects of feminism is the study of how our culture relegates men to boxes much like it does women, to the detriment of all. We allow men only a narrow emotional range and encourage them to channel anxiety, fear, and insecurity into aggression. The phrases “be a man” and “man up” represent an insidious rejection of multifaceted and complex masculinity. And this in turn violently summons men into a system that valorizes misogyny as a performative means to enact an ideal that damages both genders.

A line of male clones in Orphan Black promises to spark conversations about male physicality (which we almost never talk about); the interrelations among strength, sensitivity, and creativity; and the way men, too, are victimized by the patriarchy. Season two showed us with shockingly clarity that men can be raped too. I’m looking forward to what Season three shows us about who owns men’s bodies, military culture’s relationship to gender, and which bastards Helena can destroy with her bare hands.

I think the show will always be about seestras. It's okay if it's about brother-seestras too. 



Friday, June 6, 2014

My Writing Process – a blog tour

I was invited to participate in this blog tour by fellow writer Jae (http://jae-fiction.com/my-writing-process/). The idea is that every author answers the same four questions about her or his writing process and then tags someone else who continues the blog tour.
Here goes!

1. What am I working on?

At present I’m working on two projects. The first is editing my novel Barring Complications (http://www.ylva-publishing.com/books/barring-complications/) with the incomparable Fletcher DeLancey (tagged below!). We are going comma by comma to make sure you all have a pleasant reading experience uninterrupted by typos.

In between rounds of edits, I’m returning to the first novel I ever wrote, Stowe Away. I still very much believe in this storyline, but the writing needs a complete overhaul. I know a lot more about the fundamentals of writing fiction now, and I’m enjoying retooling scenes, restructuring events, and rethinking character development.

2. How does my work differ from others in the same genre?

This seems a very loaded question! I suppose my writing is “lesbian romance,” but I do set out to write pieces that don’t conform to the standard romance plot. Barring Complications is about a lot more than the relationship between two women – it’s about US politics and government, surveillance, family, and briefly, badminton.

Stowe Away specifically undoes the structure of a romance novel. This is not a girl-meets-girl, something keeps them apart, girl-gets-girl novel. But more than that, I can’t say just yet. ;)

#3 Why do I write what I do?

I love this question. When I first discovered the Bechdel test (if you don’t know about this, please look it up – it’s amazing), I expanded it in my head. It wasn’t enough for two named female characters to have a scene together where they talk about something other than a man – they had to talk about something other than romance. Clearly this caveat concerns lesbian characters. Alison Bechdel had seen enough of women fawning over men, but I had seen enough of women fawning, period. So, in my version of it, there couldn’t be romantic subtext either: the women in the scene had to think about something other than romance. So, it’s fair to say that many lesbian romance novels wouldn’t pass this more stringent test. And that’s totally fine – it’s not the real test and I’m not judging. But the women I know don’t spend all their time talking or even fantasizing about love and romance. They have careers and hobbies. And I want to read and write about them.

In Barring Complications, Victoria Willoughby’s family isn’t there for her to talk about her love life – they’re in the novel to help her navigate her career and the press, and also because she is a well-rounded character who loves her relationships with her brother and sister-in-law. In Stowe Away, the main character’s mother does more than help her daughter suss out romantic relationships. She has her own story line and character arc.

So, I write the way I write because I am interested in strong, multifaceted lesbian characters who are interested in romance, sure, but whose lives aren’t singularly focused on it.

#4 How does my writing process work?

Call me a traditionalist, but I read my Aristotle and I believe everything starts with plot. I know a lot of writers who start with characters and that works for them, but starting with plot is the only way I can make sense of my ideas. I begin with the conflict. Once I’ve figured out what drives the friction of the story, I come up with a few mile-markers to help me shape its trajectory. Barring Complications is in five parts, and I knew before I started writing how each part would start and end. Once I have the main events in place, I draw up character lists and start writing. Certainly within this basic plot outline my characters lead me to unexpected places. But I know if I don’t give them some rules, they’ll run away from me!


Well, there you go – a bit of insight into my writing process. Without further ado, I hereby tag Fletcher DeLancey and Ingrid Diaz!

Friday, May 9, 2014

Just For Funsies! Five Desert Island Characters

Five Desert Island Characters
Sometimes when we can’t sleep, my wife and I lie in bed and play Five Desert Island. Sometimes it’s movies or albums. The other night it was five TV characters you’d take with you to a desert island. We issued an immediate disclaimer that this hypothetical question is not about survival – no picking Macgyver because you think he’ll actually get you off the island. The goal is to select five TV characters you’d be willing to spend the rest of your life with.
Note: I originally posted this blog over a year ago, before there even was such a thing as Orange is the New Black, and my answers have changed. Here’s my (updated) list, in no particular order:

1 ) President Laura Roslin, BSG (I could spend eternity with a beautiful prophet, discussing the ethical implications of government authority, what constitutes survival, and if/when circumstances dictate we abandon the rule of law)
2)  Spike “William the Bloody,” Buffy (SOO much better than Angel, plus sexy and hilarious)
3) Suzanne “Crazy Eyes,” OITNB (because sometimes her feelings get messy like dirt, and she appreciates dandelions, and if we all get up each other’s business too much on this island, she knows how to mark her territory)


4) Felix, Orphan Black (every desert island needs a gay bartender/artist in chaps and nothing else)
5) Claire Underwood, House of Cards (this pick is part eye-candy, part intellectual stimulation, and part psychology experiment – I wonder what she’d be like if she could only scheme with/against four other people)



So now I'm curious -- who are your five desert island characters?