Dance in the Full Moon

O, the Frailty of Memory

Friday, April 13, 2012

4.13

Kari looked up from her soup. "I think it's stupid! Everything I watch is filled with it!"
"Well, it's because most writers are male, so--" but I'm interrupted.
"And that's only because most studio execs are male."
"Ok, I guess I fail to see your problem."
"Women need to be main characters too. I want to see a woman who thinks and acts on something. I want a woman who doesn't act based solely on her maternal instincts or out of love to a man. I want to see a woman who's greedy, or noble, or tragic, or lost, or wise."
"What, like Sarah Connor?"
"Sure, but I want to see women like that everywhere. And no more effeminate women--it's too easy for them to fall to the dominant male characters."
I give up and lift my cup as if to drink.
"I see you, you know. You're actively avoiding the conversation."
I splutter in defense. She's unconvinced. I guess I'll try to ward her off some other way.
"Well, I write convincing female characters. Don't I?" My self-doubt is obvious.
She sighs. "Your female characters always kowtow to the needs and wants of men. I'm sick and tired of it."
I smile sickly at her.
She whispers to herself "I'm getting tired of you."
"Oh," is all I can say. I hope she knows I heard her. It will make my next sentence so much better, but I guess it has to be said. "Are you tired of living under my shadow?"
Kari sighs. "Why would you ask me that?" She plays with her fork for a bit, but I don't answer. She eventually clears her throat. "Well, you know." I really don't. "I'm a woman, not a wife."
"Are the two mutually exclusive?"
"You treat me like a wife, and I'm not ready for it. I'm not sure I'll ever be ready." She sinks a little deeper into the cushion of the seat. I tear my napkin into smaller and smaller chunks as the silence subdivides into periods of awkwardnesses. I look up at her again, but she's looking away.
"Kari, I . . ." don't know what to say. But I do. I don't want to ask that question. Anyhow, I guess here it is. "Does this mean we're done?"
"Done?"
"Finished. Over. Kaput. Finito. Ended. Done?"
"Sven," she choked. She choked, and she's the one who told me she can't anymore. She's the one who's tired. She's the one who complains. She choked like she was sad. Well, guess what, girlie, I'm done if you're not. I'm tired of bending to your demands and asking politely for your time and being happy when you grace me with your presence. I'm sick of your attitude and your quarrels. I'm fed up with your willful hurtfulness. I'm crushed by your anger, ripped by your words, and lanced by your attitude. I'm done.
The emotions well up in me and I slide myself out of the booth.
"Kari?"
She looks up at me with watery eyes.
I start again. "Kari, I know I'm not a woman, but I'm being a strong female character, starting now." I turn to leave. She doesn't even call out after me.

I wish so badly that she would.
And that, my friends, is why there are no strong female characters: even the men who try to write them aren't them.

11 comments:

  1. Goodness. This hurts and frustrates and such.
    It works on many levels.

    I have stuff to say about feminism, and most of it is just sorting because I have no idea what to think about it.

    This part hurt my heart:

    "She whispers to herself, 'I'm getting tired of you.'
    "'Oh,' is all I can say. I hope she knows I heard her. It will make my next sentence so much better, but I guess it has to be said. 'Are you tired of living under my shadow?'"

    I wish many things for you, Robby, and none of them are like this experience.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Ooh, I figured there would be a post on this topic when you pointed the fact out last night.

    Maybe it's harder to write strong females without them coming off as...well, bitchy, to use the vulgar phrase. Maybe that's due to the writing, but more so to the perception in society, I think.

    Women are still expected to get married, have children, stay at home, etc., And I'm not saying that that's not what I want, you know? I do want to get married, have children, etc., But I really wish there wasn't this pressure to be so, wasn't this underlying idea that pervades society that women should be sexy before they're smart. But that's sort of off-topic.

    And maybe I've got it all wrong. But I think there can be strong female and male characters. Most definitely I think that.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I think the problem is that "strong female characters" are set up to be strong so that they don't need anybody else. Then they reject all help. I mean, look at strong male characters. They don't reject people. Often, they're polite. They care about others and look out for people. GANDALF. That might help, if people remembered it.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Hmm, that's very likely. The thing is, people (including women) need other people. So, maybe the key is striking a balance between being ancillary and being so 'strong' that you think you don't need anyone. Very interesting.

    ReplyDelete
  5. I don't think the problem is just self-reliance. (I do, however, think it doesn't help.)

    Take Strider. He spends years by himself, being all mysterious, rejecting people, and several people I know find him likeable precisely BECAUSE he can take care of himself.

    In society, women who are self-reliant may be kind, but people tend to violently dislike them. So of course that gets put into the literature, and people who write female characters tend to be "oh, well, I'm not sexist. Let me write an extreme."

    But we're programmed to dislike them, regardless. How much of that is the way men and women were created to be and how much of that is the way society has skewed gender roles, I do not know.

    What I DO know is that men who "don't need no woman" are charming, and women who "don't need no man" are mean or deluded (or both). What I DO know is that men can get away with rudeness women cannot.

    What I DO know is that I know two teachers who are both smart and good at their jobs and are tough on their students, and I dislike the woman and love the man, and I am not the only one.

    Perhaps you are right, though. In considering the women who fit the profile created here of "strong female characters," I cannot think of any who did not make an incredibly stupid decision that was directly tied to her refusing to accept help from a man.

    Like, of course women are stupid and need men to think for them, and women who think they don't need men are moronic.

    But then we've got Hermione (whose biggest fight with the man she loved occurred because he felt she didn't need him).

    ReplyDelete
  6. Mostly, I think it's because a woman isn't seen as strong if she accepts help, but a man is.
    Possibly to do with the stridency of female voices?

    ReplyDelete
  7. Well, if the two teachers you're talking about are the same ones I'm thinking about, I love both of them, both for pretty much the same reasons.

    I read something about the fact that women will remember something better if a man with a good man's voice says it. I think it was a Cracked article. Anyway...

    ReplyDelete
  8. Ashlee, I don't think you know the teachers I meant.

    Robby, I think people tend to translate everything a man does to strength.

    Cracked would say something like that . . . :-P
    The reason the emergency system voice is a woman's is that a study showed people generally follow directions best if they are given by a woman with a (posh) British accent. The closest Southern could get was South African, but whatever. It works.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Ah, well, then, I also know two teachers who are tough on their students and all those things you mentioned. One is female, the other male, and I love them both.

    The woman's voice in Southern's system doesn't wake me up because it's automated. It's still recorded, it doesn't sound natural. I wake up because of the alarm and because of a roommate or housemate yelling at me.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Oh, that's true. Huh.

    So unnatural things are hard for you to notice when you're asleep?

    ReplyDelete
  11. I guess so. I mean, I'm not usually awake to notice that I don't notice it. The last fire alarm we had, I jumped out of bed in such a leap that I left the blanket in a trail after me, but I don't remember if it was the voice or the lights or the alarm that woke me. I just know that when I was in the dorm, the voice didn't work on me.

    ReplyDelete