In the last few months, I was able to finally finish the Harry Potter series, then the Hunger Games series, and last night, finally, Kristen Cashore’s excellent trilogy: Graceling, Fire, and Bitterblue.
I love this series. Every book stars a brave and complex female protagonist. Every book also features a panoply of strong and fascinating female characters. Females are spies, fighters, queens, healers, on and on. There are also great male characters. The books also have heroic gay characters and disabled characters.
These books are disturbing. They deal with rape and incest, not directly, but implied and discussed in the book. If the reader doesn’t get the horror of those acts, she misses a lot of the story. Also, each book features a passionate love affair. My oldest kid is 10, and I would not let her read these because of the rape/ incest parts of the story. I don’t yet know what age would be appropriate because I’ve learned not to trust the recommendations I see around. In fact, that’s why I started Reel Girl. IMO, Cinderella gets a triple S for major gender stereotyping/ not appropriate for kids. I’m thinking 15 for Bitterblue because the sexual violence is central to the plot, but Graceling and Fire, age 12? But then again, rape and incest happen in the real world, so if this is going on or has happened in kids’ lives, reading about it would be a good thing. It’s such an individual choice. Let me know if you or your kids have any experience with these books.
Reel Girl rates Graceling, Fire, and Bitterblue ***HHH****
My seven year old daughter reported to me this morning that lost baby Mac of Wildwood was discovered by Curtis, not Prue. Oh, this made me mad!
Over the weekend, I blogged aboutWildwood. I love the elaborate world-building in the book, the complex characters, and the writing, but both my daughter and I were disappointed that a book we thought was about a heroic girl, Prue, turns out to be about a heroic boy, Curtis. It’s Prue’s brother who is lost. Prue ventures into the wild to save him. It’s interesting because Curtis tags along after her, and at first, Prue tries to shake him off, but he won’t go away. Now I feel like Prue’s desire to get rid of Curtis is the manifestation (man-infestation, ha!) of the struggle of so many female characters who are forced to capitulate to the male characters, again and again.
If the gender roles of Wildwood weren’t part of a larger pattern, I’d have no problem with them. But as it stands, in kids media, strong female protagonists go missing. Curtis being the one to find missing baby Mac is such a dis and so intertwined into the story, I feel as pissed off about it as I was when Percy Jackson took over Clarisse’s quest in Sea of Monsters. I hate that my kids have to see this happen again and again.
I’m not done with the book yet and am holding out hope Prue will reclaim her role as the hero of this narrative, but its not looking good.
My seven year old daughter and I are reading Wildwood. I was psyched by the description on the back of the book, which is all about a girl, Prue, rescuing her kidnapped brother. Unfortunately, early on, Prue partners up on her mission with a boy, Curtis. The story then alternates between Prue’s POV and Curtis’s, and, as my daughter pointed out, the Curtis parts are much better. While Prue is stuck in a town of boring politicians who speak about issues that Prue (and my daughter) don’t understand, Curtis gallops on a horse through the wilderness with a mysterious woman who lives with coyotes, the Governess.
If you read Reel Girl, you know that I track images in children’s media of females shown riding creatures, many of which are magical. While males are seen in this situation all the time, and the magical creature itself is often male, females, if they are get to do this at all, are relegated to a secondary position, aptly termed “riding bitch.”
Here is a beautiful illustration of the Governess and Curtis.
So far, she kind of reminds me of the latest incarnation of Women Who Run With Wolves.
We are only about one third through the book, so I am hoping that
(1) Prue’s role gets more exciting
(2) The Governess continues to play an important role
This is Raven, The Frozen God, a book which migrated to our house from my husband’s childhood bookshelf.
My husband assures me that in this series (there are 5) the females are main characters. All the men, he says, are sidekicks. I’d like to know how she scales icebergs in high-heeled boots. No hints on the back of the book:
From out of the bond of slavery, there arose a warrior…a warrior feared across all lands, a warrior whose blade was stained with the blood of thousands– man and beast– who smiled as she killed, with hair as gold as summer sun, eyes as blue as the heavens, and a body which invited only love yet dealt bloody, merciless death to her enemies.
He gave me a tour of the bookshelf, all kinds of fantasy books from the 70s and 80s, mostly small and paperback, stacked alongside novels by Cormac McCarthy, Herman Hesse, and Flannery O’Connor.
As a kid, my husband collected the brothers Hildenbrant who are famous for illustrating Tolkein. The legend is that one brother started from one side of the page, the other from the opposite side, and they met in the middle. Finally, they wrote their own book, Urshurak, which features my husband’s favorite warrior princess. Here she is, standing over her kill.
A sentence in my daughter’s book for 8-12 year olds (“Creep Over: Read it and Weep” by P.J. Night):
“Her mom was really smart, just not at math–even third grade math.”
ARGH!
One of these quotes would not be a problem, but there’s a pattern of it in kids’ media. It’s what Melissa Wardy of Pigtail Pals calls the “drip, drip, drip.” No one even notices the repetition of sexism, it’s become so normal. And by the way, this sentence could describe me. I’ve posted about how much I hate helping my daughters with math. I hated math. They can tell. They read or write, I’m totally into it. They do math, my husband helps them. Thus, I pass the gender stereotype on to a new generation. There are a multitude of reasons why girls are supposed to be good at art and words, not math and sciences, many of which I’ve blogged about. But it’s not “natural” for all girls anymore than it is for girls to wear pink.
So, I’d like to ask you, as you’re reading books with your kids, please post sexist, stereotyped quotes in this comments section or on Reel Girl’s Facebook page. I’m really curious about them. I can think of one that has always bugged me from Ramona about how she has boring brown hair and brown eyes. I can’t stand reading that to my brown-eyed, brown haired daughter. Again, if this were one book, but when so many book have blonde, blue-eyed heroines, when we just saw this dichotomy again in “Smurfs 2.” Enough already.
Besides finishing the Harry Potter series this summer, I got to read Catching Fire and Mockingjay, finally completing TheHunger Games trilogy.
I am a huge fan of this series. Panem remains the only magical world I have read about or seen on TV or in the movies where gender equality exists. If you know of another one, please tell me. I am not referring to a world where a female protagonist fights against or overcomes sexism. I am referring to a world where there is no sexism.
In Panem, females and males are in power positions. Both genders are, consistently, commanders of armies, directors of films, murderers, heroes, doctors, victims, and presidents. Males and females can be weak or strong, compassionate or cruel, leaders or followers. Characters in Panem are portrayed as complex individuals with conflict and contradiction just like real humans.
So here’s the only passage, the only passage, in the whole trilogy where I found stereotypical sexism from the year 2013 infecting Panem. Both women and men in Panem wear make-up. Vanity depends on profession and geography, not gender, so it’s not the make-up that bugged me here.
But its Posy, Gale’s five-year-old sister who helps the most. She scoots along the bench to Octavia and touches her skin with a tentative finger. “You’re green. Are you sick?”
“It’s a fashion thing, Posy, like wearing lipstick,” I say.
“It’s meant to be pretty,” whispers Octavia, and I can see the tears threatening to spill over her lashes.
Posy considers this and says matter-of-factly, “I think you’d be pretty in any color.”
The tiniest of smiles forms on Octavia’s lips. “Thank you.”
“If you really want to impress Posy, you’ll have to dye yourself bright pink,” says Gale, thumping his tray down beside me. “That’s her favorite color.”
When I read that section, I groaned. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with one little girl among many declaring pink is her favorite color. But, in 2013, pink has become such a symbol of the way marketers limit diversity, limit girls, and gender segregate toys and products for kids. How many colors are there in the world? How many “choices” do little girls get? it bummed me out to see a four year old girl, the only one in the series I remember, get her love for pink affirmed.
I have many complaints about gender stereotyping in Harry Potter, but one of the scenes that really got under my skin is about pink. The Weasley twins’s magical store, Weasley ‘s Wizard Wheezes, is so cool and creative, but it turns out to be as sexist and gender segregated as as any Target. Here’s Fred Weasley doing some marketing:
“Haven’t you girls found our special WonderWitch products yet,” asked Fred. “Follow me, ladies….”
Near the window was an array of violently pink products around which a cluster of excited girls was giggling enthusiastically.
What’s the problem with this? Just a couple days ago, when I posted about sexism and gender stereotypes at the shoe store, Stride Rite, I received hundreds of comments like this one:
I remind you once again, that it’s not. Pink was first a “boy” color, a version of red which symbolized strength. Blue was a “girl” color, associated with the Virgin Mary. That’s why in the early Disney movies, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, and Alice in Wonderland all wore blue.
How many times, when challenging gender stereotypes, do we hear the argument that these limits placed on girls are just natural?
In 2013, when children and adults see, again and again, that girls in fantasy world, whether its books, TV, movies, or toys, consistently “choose” pink, it appears to validate misconceptions like the commenter’s above. And if girls “naturally” prefer pink, it follows that they are naturally drawn to all those pink things, whether its princesses, toys about make-up, shopping, or fashion.
Of course, what the persistence of pink in the fantasy world really shows, is that writers, directors, and producers all live in and are influenced by the sexist real world. That is why, obviously, that the fantasy world, a world that should have limitless possibilities, where anything is possible, often turns out to be as sexist as the real one. We ought to be showing kids something more imaginative.
Besides going to a lot of shitty kids’ movies this summer, I finished the Harry Potter series. That actually happened at the beginning of the summer, but I’ve avoided blogging about it. Part of the reason is I needed to work on my own book instead of blogging. But, also, I pretty much feel like I’ve said everything about Harry Potter that I have to say. Still, I promised to check in once I was finished, so I’m doing that now.
My favorite book in the series is Book 6, probably because Dumbledore is my favorite character, and Half-Blood Prince is all Harry and Dumbledore. Also, I really liked hearing about Voldemort’s childhood and witnessing how he became so evil. And I mean witnessing. J.K. Rowling doesn’t just do a flashback. She has you go into a magical pensieve where memories are stored, and then she leads you through the actual events. She’s a truly masterful story teller.
I initially thought that the most feminist of the books was 5, because Hermione has a big part, and there is, finally, a female teacher of the Dark Arts, Dolores Umbridge, who’s a great villain. But, unfortunately, after posting my views, I received quite a few comments about the alleged rape of Umbridge. You can look those posts up, if you want. The links to most everything I’ve written on Reel Girl about the Harry Potter series is cut and pasted below, most recent first. This sentence from one of my posts pretty much sums up my views:
If Harry Potter, a series with a male protagonist, titled for that male, where the author was told by her publisher to use initials to hide her gender, is considered feminist because a third of the characters in power positions are female, we have a long way to go before achieving gender equality in the fantasy world.
When I was with my six year old daughter at the book store, and she chose Land of Stories by “Glee” actor Chris Colfer, I was skeptical. Colfer is an actor. And twenty-three years old. And male. Not only that, from the back book cover, it was obvious Land of Stories is reimagined fairy tales. Been there, done that. Nonetheless, my daughter insisted, and as a rule, I generally buy my kids a book if they really want it, because from my experience, resistance only makes it more desirable.
My daughter plowed through the book, requested its sequel, and then finished over 500 pages in about a week. My daughter, now just turned 7, read most of the book herself, so I only got snips here and there, when I read it to her. From the scenes I read, I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. The protagonists are twins, Alexandra and Conner. I get annoyed by how books with a female protagonist seem to need to balance her with a co-starring male. Can’t we just see the female protag? Or what about sisters? Or female buddies? Why is that pairing so rare?
But in most parts of Land of Stories that I read, Alex is a strong and brave character. Here are a couple passages that won me over as we neared the finish of the second book, The Enchantress Returns.
“You have to save the fairy-tale world, Alex!” Conner said. “You have to save the Otherworld and Mom, too!”
Alex’s grip around her brother’s feet tightened. “I can’t save anything without you,” she said.
“Yes, you can,” he said. “It was always meant to be you! You’re the one who got us here and you’re the one who is going to get us out! You heard the ghosts– you’re the heir of magic! You’ve got to defeat the Enchantress so this world can go on!”
“I can’t do it alone,” she said, terrified to lose him.
“Yes, you can,” Conner said. “I’m really sorry about this.”
Conner kicked Alex off of him, and the vines consumed him entirely. They dragged him and Trollbella down into the ground and disappeared.
“Conner!” Alex yelled after him, but it was no use. He was gone.
Alex looked across the camp just in time to see the vines pull Red, Froggy, Jack, and Goldilocks into the ground with one, final heave. As soon as Trollbella, Red, and the others clinging on to them had been taken, all the vines in the campsite disappeared into the ground. They had com efor the queens.
Alex got to her feet and looked around in shock. In a matter of minutes, all of her friends and her brother had been taken from her. She had no choice but to finish the quest alone– it was all up to her now.
Love it! Of course, as I reading this to my daughter, I was thinking: “Right on, Conner, get out of there. Alex needs to do this.”
Unlike Harry Potter’s magical world, this Fairy world has an almost equal number of females and males in power in the government, with a the Fairy Godmother at the head, and the evil enchantress as the villain. Here’s a passage that describes the governing group.
Hung across the wall from top to bottom were Queen Snow White and King Chandler, Queen Cinderella and King Chance, Queen Sleeping Beauty and King Chase, Queen Rapunzel. and members of the Fairy Council. And now, withe the inclusion of Red and Trollbella, the entire Happily Ever After Assembly was at the Enchantress’s mercy.
I appreciate all the subtle ways Colfer recognizes female power. The female characters are not princesses but queens and they are listed before their male partners. Red is Little Red Riding Hood and Trollbella is the leader of the Trolls. It’s great to read a story about what happens to these princesses after they marry and their adventures are supposedly over. Its also nice that Rapunzel remains unmarried. It is interesting that Colfer makes an effort to pair of the others and gives the kings big roles. It’s sort of like giving a female protags a male twin, and other passages I read, the deference of the Queens annoyed me.
Here’s the passage that made me a true fan. How does Alex find the strength to save Fairy-tale world all alone? She has a dream where goes into a cave and meets four little girls: Lucy of Narnia, Alice of Wonderland, Dorothy of Oz, and Wendy of Neverland. They five girls talk together about the various ways Alex could try to destroy the Enchantress.
She looked up at the girls and around the cave. “Now I understand the meaning of my dream,” she said. “Deep down, I knew I could never kill the Enchantress, so I was searching for another way. The cave represents my questioning and you represent the answer— because ever since I was a little girl, I’ve always thought of you when I had a problem.”
“Why is that?” said Alice.
“I suppose I’ve learned so much from you,” Alex said. “I always wanted to be as loving as Wendy, or as curious as Alex, or as brave as Lucy, or as adventurous as Dorothy– I always saw a little bit of myself when I read about each of you.”
I’m not a fan of Wendy, but I named my oldest daughter Lucy and my second Alice after those incredible characters. I really enjoyed the pages where they come together and mentor Alex, giving her sage advice from their own experience.
The writing in these books is not the greatest. There is a lot of word repetition in sentences like: “It happened so fast Alex wasn’t sure what happened.” Also, too many adverbs: “Her hair anxiously swayed above her.” But Colfer is twenty-three, for goodness sake. I’ll be following his writing career. I’m looking forward to seeing what he does next.
If you have read these two books, please let me know what you think. With the caveat that I have only read passages of them, Reel Girl rates Land of Stories ***HH***
Check out what book I found my 4 year old cuddled up with this morning: R. Crumb’s Genesis! No idea how she go her hands on this, but talk about sex and violence, the Bible is at the top of the list.
In Half-Blood Prince, the sixth book in the Harry Potter series, Ron’s twin brothers, Fred and George Weasley, open a magic store.
I’ve been waiting to get in this store for five books. Its creation is the life dream of the Weasley twins, and Harry even gave them his galleon winnings from the TriWizard Tournament so Fred and George would have the funds to open it. I was so excited to finally enter Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes at the beginning of Book #6 along with Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron. What a major disappointment. I was so bummed. Let’s just say this is not the store Margot Weasley would’ve come up with. Here’s the passage.
“Haven’t you girls found our special WonderWitch products yet,” asked Fred. “Follow me, ladies….”
Near the window was an array of violently pink products around which a cluster of excited girls was giggling enthusiastically. Hermione and Ginny both hung back, looking wary.
“There you go, said Fred proudly, “Best range of love potions you’ll find anywhere.
Ginny raised an eyebrow skeptically: “Do they work?” she asked.
“Certainly they work, for up to twenty-four hours at a time depending on the weight of the boy in question–”
“–and the attractiveness of the girl,” said George, reappearing suddenly at their side. “But we’re not selling them to our sister,” he added, becoming suddenly stern, “not when she’s already got about five boys on the go from what we’ve–”
“Whatever you heard from Ron is a big, fat lie,” said Ginny calmly, leaning forward to take a small pink pot of the shelf. “What’s this?”
“Guaranteed ten second pimple vanisher,” said Fred….
“What are those?”
She was pointing at a number of round balls of fluff in shades of pink and purple, all rolling around at the bottom of the cage and emitting high pitched squeaks…
“They’re really cute!”
“They’re fairly cuddly, yes.”
Pink, love potions, pimple cream, cute, and cuddly stuff for girls? Why is the girl section segregated out at all? Pink wasn’t even a “girl” color a hundred years ago, so why does it dominate marketing strategy in Diagon Alley? Why, in the magical world, for goodness sake, is a store selling products to kids as gender segregated as a Target in California? Don’t wizards get pimples? Is the point that guys just won’t care if they have a break out? They don’t need to be “attractive,” the efficacy of their love potion doesn’t depend on that?
At least Hermione and Ginny seem skeptical, right? They hang back, the products are “violently” pink. But why do the cool girls have to be the exception, different from the rest of their pathetic gender? The other females are shown in “excited” cluster, “giggling enthusiastically.” Ginny ends up joining the crowd, anyway, seduced by a cute, fluffy thing.
Why do my kids have to read gender cliches in a series as imaginative as Harry Potter? In the imaginary world, anything is possible: animals talk, kids fly, unicorns prance around. Can’t we show children a magical land where girls and boys are treated equally? Is that so hard? Why do we have to bring stereotypes to fantasy land?
I’m on Book 7 now, and I’ve got to write: If Harry Potter, a series with a male protagonist, titled for that male, where the author was told by her publisher to use initials to hide her gender, is considered feminist because a third of the characters in power positions are female, we have a long way to go before achieving gender equality in the fantasy world.
