Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Whose Role (Model) is it Anyway?

Warning: This post contains spoilers about The Hunger Games series and the Twilight series. And I should also add that it's based on very dim memories of the Twilight books and movies.


Since childhood, all women are constantly bombarded by two role model types to aspire to. There's the docile home-maker who always made me cringe a little when I read her, i.e. Anne from The Famous Five, Meg from Little Women, or even Miss Honey from Matilda. The one who acted as the conscience of the group, set up house when they were lost in the wilderness (complete with an improvised larder in a cave), and almost always had to have someone else fight her battles for her. Mind you, there were points when these characters did stand up for themselves - Anne defends George from her parents' criticism, Meg defends her husband (Tutor what's-his-name) from the attack by her crochety materialistic great-aunt and Miss Honey finally stands up to Miss Trunchbull after years of being cowed down by her. But all in all, these characters remain true to the patriarchal norms set up for the ideal woman, roused to gentle indignation in defense of her man or children.

The other role model set up through books/movies is what I like to refer to as the superheroine, usually a tomboy who speaks her mind and stands up to the various forces that attempt to subjugate her, like George of The Famous Five, Jo from Little Women and Miss Trunchbull from Matilda. (Why include the last one, you ask? And how is she a superheroine? While the heroic aspects of Miss Trunchbull might be questionable at best, the superhuman quality is not - she throws a kid over a fence by her pigtails for crying out loud! And while she is one of the oppressive forces of the story against which Matilda and Miss Honey have to triumph, she could definitely qualify as questioning the expectations and ideals imposed on women, in her opposition to all things feminine - maternal instincts and, as a former female weightlifter, femininity. But I'll save this for another post.)

The same opposition is playing out in two contemporary young adult series: The Hunger Games trilogy by Suzanne Collins and the Twilight series by Stephanie Meyer. On the one hand, you have Katniss Everdeen, tough, ruthless, pragmatic, fiercely protective, a survivor intent on making sure the odds end up in her favor. (It also helps that she's portrayed brilliantly in the films by the lovely Miss Lawrence.) And on the other hand there's Bella Swan, whose primary purpose throughout the Twilight series is ensuring that she can stay with Edward forever (never mind that this entails her being turned into a vampire with a crazed thirst for human blood). I recently came across a poorly argued article which raised the question: which of these female protagonists should young girls be looking up to? On a more superficial level, the obvious answer (and the one given by the article) is Katniss. After all, we do want our young girls to grow up into independent, strong women with their own opinions.

Another equally annoying article attacked Bella in a poorly written and biased letter, attacking her for (of all reasons) failing to acknowledge and match the nobility of Edward's actions in giving her up for the greater good and for making him weak. It then goes on to discuss how she makes a poor role model for young women, encouraging them to fall apart when they are abandoned by their lovers and accusing her of 'willfully playing the damsel in distress'.

Personally, given a choice between the two, I would go for Katniss, but my choice wouldn't be based on her value as a role model. Rather, I see her as a more dynamic and flawed character confronted with a horrific situation. But as a role model?

Looking back on my somewhat (okay, very!) gawky and awkward teenage days, it would have been somewhat daunting to be told to look up to someone that strong. It allows a lot less room for error and adds much more pressure on us as young women to be strong and practical individuals, who make decisions that are, well, strong and practical. I'm not saying that this is not something that we should aspire to - it definitely is. I'm just saying that it does sort of strip us of the freedom to make stupid and impetuous decisions, fall for the wrong guy/girl, in short, be kids and grow up through our decisions.

Bella, as a character, appeals to the adolescent in us, whether it's through her klutziness or her tendency to be guided primarily by her emotions. As a human, she is physically weaker than Edward (kind of hard not to be when he's a super-powered vampire who, incidentally, can't be killed by sunlight - he only sparkles in it. Yes, I just had to say it, though I know that the jibes at Edward's likeness to a glitter bomb have been done and overdone). This has been used as a point illustrating that they have an unequal relationship in which Edward has to constantly look out for her and save her. Does that make her a wuss? Well, yes it does. Does it also make her human? Hell yes! How many of us could claim to be able to stop an out-of-control truck from hitting us? Or take on a group of would-be rapists in a dark alley? Or overpower a group of super-powered vampires (if we weren't Buffy or Faith)? These would be points where mere mortals like yours truly and the hapless Bella Swann would freeze deer-in-headlights style and would probably need to be helped out by a super-powered someone. Does this make us unfeminist (is that a word?)? Not really - it just means that we're in situations that are beyond our control.

Plus, we also have to point out that Bella does also go out of her way to save the people she cares about, often in the only real way she can, by offering herself up as a shield - Jacob from what she perceives as a forced entry into a tribe cult, her father from the threat of the vengeful vampire Victoria, Edward from the Volturi and her unborn child from the people around her. One could argue that this reflects a lack of self-worth and promotes the ideal of a woman putting the safety of her family and loved ones ahead of her own, casting herself solely through the role of mother, daughter, wife/lover. But is this necessarily a bad thing? To say so would be to negate the sacrifice made by Lily Potter when she tries to shield her son from Voldemort.

Katniss also constantly saves the people around her - her little sister, Prim, from participating in the Hunger Games, Rue, Peeta and Gale. Like Bella, she offers herself up as a shield to prevent harm from falling on those she cares about. However, unlike Bella, her methods primarily involve offensive action - in all these cases, she takes up arms to protect them. This is in keeping with the role traditionally assigned for men - fighting in defense of home, hearth and kin. The militant aspects of Katniss' character has been praised as showing her as a strong female role model. But does the lack of weapons on Bella's part make her a weaker woman? By defining the strength of an individual based on their ability to wield weapons, aren't we falling into the trap of assuming that the only kind of strength that should be aspired to is through brute force - which is, in itself, one of the pillars of patriarchy? To define Katniss as a strong female role model based on her ability to defend herself and others with a bow and arrow and Bella as a weak one for her inability to use weapons, would be adhering to the ideas of strength drilled into our heads by centuries of patriarchal values, ignoring the kind of courage that it takes to stand up for someone when you possess neither superhuman qualities or weapons skills. (This does not, of course, imply that Katniss' strength is only in her action-hero abilities.)

Bella has also been repeatedly criticized for her obsessive relationship with Edward. As someone who was once a teenage girl, I can relate. Whether we were scribbling 'Mrs. [insert name of crush]' on the back of our notebooks inside pink hearts or memorizing their schedules so that we can catch glimpses of them every day, teenage crushes are obsessive. At sixteen, any guy that I had a crush on was perfect, someone that I could watch for hours, impossibly witty, incredibly smart (never mind if they just made fart noises on their hands to disrupt class), handsome (that acne just gives his face more personality), and altogether amazing creatures. (Sadly or happily, I've never been able to achieve this state of adoration post-21.) So Bella's admiring (albeit slightly annoying) attitude towards Edward is understandable to an extent. Not to mention reciprocated - Edward's intense and looooong gazes (which took up most of the screen time in the first movie), and the fact that he watches her while she sleeps (which, yes, I agree is more than vaguely stalker-like. And it probably led to a lot of young girls thinking that it's ok to fall for older guys who watch you while you sleep. Yup, super disturbing. But, to continue playing the devil's (or vampire's) advocate, love can often be intrinsically stalker-like, whether we're checking out our crush's Facebook page or watching them play tennis/drink coffee/whatever they happen to be doing. Still, I'm all for attaching a Statutory Warning to this particular scene. Something along the line of 'Falling for Guys Who Watch You While You Sleep Can Be Hazardous to Your Love Life. Or Your Life. Period.'.)

The relationship portrayed in the Twilight series has often been described as 'unhealthy'. Which I agree with, a hundred percent. The point often cited here is Bella's spiral into depression when Edward leaves her to keep her safe. The complete dependence that she has on her boyfriend is definitely not healthy, leading to a suicide attempt (yeah, Bella, we all believe you were just looking for a thrill). The same can be said of Edward's love for Bella - he is constantly keeping a check on his vampire self so that he doesn't kill her (not that this is a bad thing, it just means he's a lot more repressed. Which plays out in the movies in the form of constipated looks on Robert Pattinson's face.) Another point that has often been made is that it is an abusive relationship, in which Edward constantly attempts to control Bella by issuing orders and generally acting like your typical alpha-male. There's no denying that his controlling nature reeks of another era - which incidentally it does, since we mustn't forget that this is a hundred year old vampire we're talking about. The thing we should look at is whether Bella is completely subservient to Edward. There are several points that she ignores his demands and makes her own decision - by continuing to see Jacob Black despite Edward's objections and by insisting on being made a vampire, despite his protests. (This last point also highlights an unhealthy desire to modify herself in order to be with Edward - an extreme form of plastic surgery, one could say.)

But then (and in saying this, I am in no way defending unequal or abusive relationships), is it more important to write role-models or to write characters? If the dynamics of a relationship between two characters work in a certain way, is it not more important for a writer to stay true to that rather than twist characters around in order to convey a positive message about healthy relationships? For that matter, when we think of epic love stories, the first word that we use to describe them is not 'healthy'. No one could say that Romeo and Juliet's love was 'healthy', or Heathcliff and Catherine or even Scarlett O'Hara and Rhett Butler.

Katniss, on the other hand, is raised in completely different circumstances. Unlike Bella, she grows up in a community marked by hardship, hunger and poverty, with the constant shadow of the Hunger Games looming over her childhood. She is forced into the role of provider when her father's death sends her mother into a deep depression, and consequently has to grow up before her time. Her take on love is also marked by insecurity - she is initially afraid of looking weak because of it and is afraid of having children because of the possibility of them having to be in the Hunger Games. Therefore, it is natural that Katniss' approach to love would be a more wary and, in a lot of ways, more adult one than Bella's. With Gale, she has a sense of secure affection, the promise of friendship that can grow into something more. In Peeta, however, she has her soulmate, the yang to her yin so to speak. Her love for Peeta initially springs from a strong sense of survival - it is necessary to help her win the Games, whereas his love for her is a more selfless one that allows him to work to ensure her survival over his own. Catching Fire sees her love for Peeta develop into a deeper, more mature one, that allows her to look past her own survival and attempt to secure his. In some ways, it takes her longer to reach the kind of love that Edward and Bella seem to have almost immediately.

Another point on which Katniss and Bella are often contrasted is their approach to life. Whereas Katniss is constantly associated with the drive for life (Eros) in her struggle to survive, Bella is constantly drawn towards the drive for death (Thanatos), with her obsession with becoming a vampire. I would argue that this is completely untrue. I don't believe that Bella has a death wish (other than her cliff dive and motorcycle antics). In fact, her dream to become a vampire (seen as a death wish) is in fact the opposite - a need to overcome mortality and frailty. So one could argue that her need to discard her humanity in favor of becoming a vampire is a form of empowerment, a desire to throw off her helplessness and empower herself in a world peopled by supernatural creatures. Which is what happens in the series (and here, I cite the example of the final film, where we saw glimmerings of an actual personality in the otherwise mute and passive Bella). It should also be noted that Katniss, at several points in the trilogy, expresses an explicit death wish: the second book is replete with instances of her placing herself in danger to ensure Peeta's survival.

Both series are portrayals of young women grappling with different ways of empowering themselves. Contrary to popular arguments, Katniss' empowerment does not come from her ability to shoot an apple out of a suckling pig's mouth. Rather, her position as a fighter entangles her in more insidious forms of oppression as the Mockingjay, symbol of the Resistance. The main problem of debating which of the two characters is a better role model arises perhaps from the fact that they are not intended as individuals to be aspired to, but flawed characters in their own rights.

So, the moral of this extremely long-winded post is? Well, I'd probably sum it up as 'Let's stop with the role model debate already. And concentrate on encouraging characters that are nuanced, flawed and well-rounded.'

Saturday, March 30, 2013

The Best Medicine


'Now you could study Shakespeare and be quite elite
And you can charm the critics and have nothin' to eat
Just slip on a banana peel 
The world's at your feet 
Make 'em laugh 
Make 'em laugh 
Make 'em laugh'
                      - Cosmo Brown, Singing in the Rain

I might not agree completely with the philosophy of Cosmo Brown, but you can't help getting impressed by the fact that he's spouting this while performing gravity-defying runs up walls (all the more impressive, considering this was decades before The Matrix, Inception and Rajanikanth had ensured that such antics were greeted with yawns). That being said, as someone who actually enjoyed her Shakespeare course and who does (occasionally) enjoy critically acclaimed movies, I am a total sucker for good LOL moments, regardless of how cliched or mindless they might be. 

Here's the list (in no particular order) of my favorites, moments that no matter how many times I see them, always make me laugh.

1. The Emperor's New Groove 
Now while this one has many hilarious scenes ('Bewaaaaare the groove,' says the old man after being tossed out of a window by guards as a punishment for wrecking Emperor Cuzco's groove), the ones that stick out the most for me are the ones with the character Kronk, the right-hand not so bright muscle of the villain, Yzma, with a penchant for cooking spinach puffs, playing skipping rope games and an uncanny knack for different languages (including Squirrel - Squeak squeakity squeakins!). He's got many good moments, but definitely at the top of the list: his shoulder angel and devil.

The context: Kronk is having a moment of crisis and trying to determine whether he should save Kuzco when his friendly neighbourhood shoulder angel and devil appear.

Shoulder Devil (SD): Listen up, big guy. I got three good reasons why you should just walk away. Number one. Look at that guy! He's got that sissy stringy music thing.
Shoulder Angel (SA): We've been through this. It's a harp, and you know it.
SD: Oh, right. That's a harp. And that's a dress.
SA (gesturing down at the 'robe'): Robe!
SD: Reason number two. Look what I can do. Ha-ha, ha! (He does a one-armed handstand.)
Kronk: But what does that have to do with anything.
SA (grudgingly): No, no. He's got a point

The SA and SD make another appearance later, when Kronk is confronting Yzma.

Yzma: Kronk! Why did I think you could do this? This one simple thing! It's like I'm talking to a monkey.
SA: Whoa now!
Yzma: A really, really big stupid monkey named Kronk!
SD: Ouch.
Yzma: And do you want to know something else? I've never liked your spinach puffs! (Kronk, SA and SD gasp together) Never! (Kronk starts to cry)
SD: That's it. 
SA: She's going down.
  
Definite honorable mention: While setting up the dinner to poison Emperor Cuzco, Kronk's response to Yzma's subtle allusion to the poison is 'Riiiight. The poison for Cuzco, the poison chosen specially to kill Cuzco, Cuzco's poison ... that poison?'


2. The Sound of Music
Granted, this movie stopped holding any charm for me (aside from nostalgia) a while ago. The somewhat contrived saccharine-sweet cuteness of the children was all good when I was ten, but now could be ranked on par with bad Disney movies (High School Musical, all 3 parts, that means you!). It does, however, have a gem of a moment between Captain Von Trapp and Maria. The context: Maria, after displaying intelligence worthy of a tourist on Kodai lake, has managed to overturn the boat bearing her and the seven Von Trapp children by standing up and yelling 'Oh Captain! You're home!' What follows is a furious argument between the two, wherein Maria hurls a few home truths at the Captain about his treatment of his children. At a particularly tense moment, the Captain tries to cut her off and she responds with a loud 'I'm not finished, Captain,' to which he quells her with an emphatic 'Oh yes you are, Captain.' Followed by a sheepish expression. And on Christopher Plummer's face ... priceless!

3. Blackbeard's Ghost
This is another one of my childhood favorites, one of many tapes brought back by my parents from Kuwait. But unlike The Sound of Music, this one never gets old. The story revolves around a young coach who moves to a small seaside town. Once he arrives, he is befriended by the old lady who owns the inn he is housed in, and claims to be a descendant of the infamous pirate, Blackbeard. He then accidentally rouses the ghost of Blackbeard, who has been trapped in limbo by a curse from his wife. The two proceed to become an unlikely duo, albeit a squabbling at-each-other's-throats one. Not an amazing plot, but the main reason this works can be summed up in two words: Peter Ustinov, who plays the drunken, brutish yet strangely likeable pirate. Most memorable here is the furious fight between the coach and Blackbeard, punctuated by frequent booming yells of 'MYYY BED!' by Blackbeard. They ultimately decide to share the bed, but the somewhat small-framed coach is finally driven out by Blackbeard occupying more than three-fourths of the bed and his loud snores and sleep talking.

4. Stardust
It was watching this movie that actually inspired this post. After watching it for perhaps the thirtieth time, I realized that I still laughed at all the same points as I had when I first watched it. These were mainly the scenes with the seven sons of the king, all of whom are either alive and fighting for the throne or dead and stuck in limbo. The ghosts of the brothers and their sarcastic asides and constant bickering add a lot to the movie. One of my favorite scenes with them, however, is at the start of the film. The scene opens with the ailing king, surrounded by his three sons, Primus, Tertius and Septimus. Then the door bursts open and, accompanied by a loud triumphant overture, Prince Secundus enters. 

The King: Secundus, look out the window and tell me what you see. (Secundus strides over to the window, standing with his back straight and chest puffed out.)
Secundus: I see the kingdom, Father.
The King: And?
Secundus (hopefully): My kingdom?
The King (chuckles): Maybe. Look up. (Secundus looks up and the King looks meaningfully at Septimus who smiles, strides over and promptly pushes his brother out of the window. A few seconds later, Secundus appears alongside his dead brothers, to be met with hostile looks.
Secundus (trying to laugh off his brothers' frosty stares): Oh, please, you're not still annoyed at that whole murder thing, are you? I mean, that was ten years ago.
Quartus (who has an axe embedded in his head): Great deal of good it did you, killing me, Secundus. Because now, of course, you're King of all Stormhold. Oh sorry, wait, no you're not - you're dead!

Another scene I just had to include: 
Bishop (toasting the princes): To the new King of Stormhold. Whichever of you fine fellows it might be. (They acknowledge him and sip. The Bishop chokes and collapses, dead.) 
Tertius: Hmmm. (He chortles nervously as he and his brother eye each other suspiciously. His eyes suddenly open wide, he chokes and falls forward, dead.)
 Septimus (to Primus): You! (He clutches his throat and chokes, falling backwards onto the floor. Primus smiles, incredulous, picks up the crown as if to put it on his head. Just as he is about to do so, Septimus bursts out laughing and rises to his feet.)
 Septimus: You really thought you were king!
 Primus (accusingly): You killed the Bishop!
 Septimus: No, Primus, I think you'll find that you killed the Bishop by drinking out of the wrong cup.

This one cracks me up every time!

5. George of the Jungle
This is another movie that doesn't get old. There's the ape named Ape, who acts as a tutor of sorts to George, explaining complex problems such as the evolution theory and mating rituals (for animals). The movie also spoofs the whole white-man-worship idea, particularly brilliantly when the villain, Lyle, tries to impress his African guides with his camera, who pretend to be awed by it, only to whip out a more advanced one.

Then you also have the omniscient narrator, who interacts with and (on one particular occasion) punishes the characters. And with that, we come to my all-time favorite moment of the movie, as the group approaches Ape Mountain.

Narrator: When they approached it, they gazed in awe.
Group: Awwwww
Narrator: I said 'awe' - A.. W.. E!
Group: Ooooooh!
Narrator: That's better.

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Spectacles

I was flipping through my old poetry book the other day and came across this...

They belong to my face as much as jutting
factory chimneys do to a Wordsworthian landscape.
Silver wire trying so hard to meld into
the curving idiosyncrasies of my nose and cheekbones.
Has it really helped my vision? Or has the world
been robbed of its smudged
watercolour curves, to be cast
into gaudy colours and poky angles, subtle greys overcome
                                                                       by white
Or black.
Both? No!
It was sharp vision that sent mixed messages to
green, panting brains, painting the world in uncompromising
                                                                             red.
It was sharp vision that ripped black veils
and forced weeping widows into drooping white.
It was sharp vision that pushed a thin, myopic old man
onto a pedestal of wet cement, trapping him as a
shiny slick statue
to be looked at, to be left behind
in clouds of dust, straining to see
his beaten, battered vision.
Pierce through the eye-baiting bronze to
the slick damp flesh slithering underneath. See his blood
flow, pumped into motion by a grey heart. Watch the watercolour man take
                                                             raspy breaths and smudge into a
kaleidoscope
- blue-red-black-white-orange-green
Take off your glasses. See the watercolour world
Where orange flows into green and
white embraces black.

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

I Wanna Be A Part of It - New Year, New Books!

'The books transported her into new worlds and introduced her to amazing people who lived exciting lives. She went on olden-day sailing ships with Joseph Conrad. She went to Africa with Ernest Hemingway and to India with Rudyard Kipling. She traveled all over the world while sitting in her little room in an English village.' - Roald Dahl, Matilda

'She read all sorts of things: travels, and sermons, and old magazines. Nothing was so dull that she couldn't get through with it. Anything really interesting absorbed her so that she never knew what was going on about her. The little girls to whose houses she went visiting had found this out, and always hid away their story-books when she was expected to tea. If they didn't do this, she was sure to pick one up and plunge in, and then it was no use to call her, or tug at her dress, for she neither saw nor heard anything more, till it was time to go home.' - Susan Coolidge, What Katy Did


This year, I tried something different. Instead of my usual list of resolutions (which I already knew were going to be broken before the sun set on the first day of the year), I resolved to save a tree and just not make any New Year's resolutions.

Which lasted all of one day. By the end of January 1st, 2013, I had already come up with several. These ranged from the doable (I will fit into my super-tight pair of jeans by March) to the remotely possible idea of trekking in the Himalayas (yes, I know that's more than remotely possible, but very doubtful if, like yours truly, your world starts spinning and the not-so-distant ground seems to rush up to meet you when you stand on a table and look down) and finally to the completely unrealistic (taking Broadway by storm as Judas in Jesus Christ Superstar).

One of these was also the somewhat vague 'Read more' which immediately begs the question: Read more what? Or, to avoid being vague: What kind of books should I be reading more often? With age, I've become more selective about what I read, broadly categorizing them into four categories. The first would be Comfort or Brain-snooze reads - books that I've read and re-read and can now comfortably skim through on the metro or in the bathroom. Next would be the Books that I Diss in Public But Secretly Enjoy - this would include the Twilight series and Fifty Shades of Grey (excellent reading when I'm on the pot). The third category could be described as 'Literary' Books that Everyone's Reading and that I Read At Least Partially So That I Can Bring Them Up in Conversation to Avoid Looking Like a Total Moron - can't think of any examples offhand probably because they're just that forgettable. Or maybe because I read them for the wrong reasons.

And finally, there are the ones I like to describe as 'Word Orgasms', the books that I read just for the little shiver that runs down my back, for epiphany, for passion, for beauty and most of all, for truth. To steal a line from Samwise Gamgee, these are the stories that really stick with us, that really mean something - Rilke, Dostoevsky, Joyce, Shelley, Donne, Shakespeare, Kerouac, Ginsberg ... They're the ones that, even once you've outgrown them, are still accorded a visible place on your bookshelf in memory of that moment of communion.

These, however, are the rare few (or maybe I'm just not casting my net wide enough), and also require a sustained level of brain activity that does become a bit of a strain after too long. So, after picking a friend's brain, I'm putting forward a personal reading edict for the year 2013. That is to read books that I've never tried before. Read books that I've tossed aside without giving them time to come into their own (Anna Karenina that I tried reading at the green age of ten), genres that I've never been interested in (non-fiction!!). In other words, toss the categories mentioned above out the window and just read with an open mind, without calculating prematurely whether the book can be useful to me.

In other words, reading the way I read when I was a kid - adventurously, without any consideration whatsoever on whether the book I pick up is worth my time.

First things first, though - finishing the books I've already started, stopped and restarted.

This year I am Matilda.