ass-kicking women

I never really got into the TV show “Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” but this mash-up, kindly sent to me by my co-worker, Jamie, who shares my unadulterated hatred of Twilight, kind of makes me wish I had watched “Buffy.”  Whether you’re a Twilight hater, a Buffy fan, or just need something to distract you on a Friday afternoon, you’ll enjoy this.  (I LOL’ed at about 3:59.)

As the creator’s description on YouTube states, this video is “a pro-feminist visual critique of Edward’s character and generally creepy behavior.  Seen through Buffy’s eyes, some of the more sexist gender roles and patriarchal Hollywood themes embedded in the Twilight saga are exposed…”  In other words, while Bella may be an awful human being, Edward Cullen’s no prize either.  He’s equally as co-dependent as Bella, unfailingly self-flagellating, protective to the point of possessiveness, a tad creepy, and, on top of it all…he’s boring. All of which Bella would probably realize if she had a bit more cajones, like, say, Buffy.

All of which made me think about strong female literary characters who could kick Bella Swan’s ass (figuratively and literally.)  I know a few weeks ago I gave you my list of male literary characters who are much more desirable than Edward Cullen, so I thought this would be a nice complement.

10. Elphaba (Wicked) – Sure, she’s awkward and prickly, not to mention a witch, but the heroine of Gregory Maguire’s re-telling of The Wizard of Oz is a perfect example of how a reader can empathize with a character they don’t necessarily like. Elphaba is still less of a wet noodle than Bella, even though she has more reason to be – she’s green, for Christ’s sake.
9. Jody (Bloodsucking Fiends, You Suck: A Love Story, A Dirty Job) – If you really want quality vampire shenanigans, look no further than Christopher Moore’s absurd take on the undead. Yes, Jody’s a vampire, and yes, she’s in love with mortal, but that doesn’t mean her and boyfriend Tommy spend all their time knitting scarves about their predicament. Added bonus: None of that Twilight Mormon-influenced abstinence shit. Moore gets right to the freaky vampire sex.
8. Jessica Darling (The Sloppy Firsts series) – The star of Megan McCafferty’s wonderful Sloppy Firsts series, Jessica is the Queen of Teen Angst Bella wishes she could be. Witty, cynical, sarcastic and neurotic, Jessica is just as insecure and hopelessly romantic as Bella, but survives high school, college and post-collegiate life with intelligence and humor, not by being turned into the undead.
7. Lauria Notaro (The Idiot Girl’s Action-Adventure Club, I Love Everybody and Other Atrocious Lies, etc.) – Ok, so Notaro is not quite a literary character, as she is an actual human being who honestly (and hilariously) reveals her wackiest, most embarrassing moments, much to the delight of all the “idiot girls” out there who ignore their cars’ funny noises, enjoy getting Stinkin’ Drunk, and can’t do the simplest thing without causing a scene.
6. Melanie Wilkes (Gone With the Wind) – Of the two leading ladies in Margaret Mitchell’s Civil War epic, Scarlett is the lightening bolt, burning hot and quick, while Melanie simmers slowly, continuing to grow on you long after the book is over. Sure, she may be a bit of a bleeding heart, and has a blind spot when it comes to her beloved husband Ashley, but it’s her quiet strength, infinite patience, and backbone of steel that make her, as Rhett Butler says, “a truly great lady.”
5. Vivi Walker and the Ya-Yas (Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood) – These are women who know a thing or two about not letting a man keep them down. Far from being as one-dimensional as Bella, these lifelong friends – Vivi, Caro, Necie and Teensy – are as layered as a good pecan pie and as spicy as Tabasco sauce.
4. The Harry Potter girls (The Harry Potter series) – If Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley knew Bella, they might not kick her ass, but they almost certainly would not be fans. These ladies, along with Tonks, Luna Lovegood and Prof. McGonagall, could teach Bella a thing or two about being independent, self-sufficient and tough, even while under love’s intense spell. Also, a special shout-out to Molly Weasley, who’s deft handling of Bellatrix Lestrange at the end of Book Seven earns her a special “Kick-Mom of the Year Award.”
3. Elizabeth Bennett (Pride and Prejudice) – No list of strong female literary characters would be complete without the original sassy sister herself. Sure, Elizabeth ends up falling in love with Mr. Darcy, but she does so while maintaining her characteristic wit and spark.
2. Bridget Jones (Bridget Jones’s Diary) – Bridget Jones is perhaps the best example of how to write an insecure, neurotic, boy-crazy female character without having her come off as whiny, annoying and co-dependent. Bridget Jones measures her thighs, sleeps with her boss, and chronicles every humiliating, cringe-inducing experience over the course of a year, but  instead of wanting to strangle her, we cheer for her. Stephanie Meyers can expect a copy in her mailbox for Christmas.
1. Scarlett O’Hara (Gone With the Wind)- Really, who else did you think would be number one on this list?

lights out

Ahead of tomorrow’s release of New Moon, (which in case you’ve been living under a rock, is a movie based on a book about vampires and werewolves and such), I figured I’d jump on the Twilight bandwagon (sort of) and give you this article, which my heterosexual lifemate Carly forwarded to me.

I know I’ve ranted about my intense love-hate relationship with Twilight before within the pages of this blog, but I was inspired to bring it up again today because of Baker’s article, which I just think is the bee’s knees (also, the promotional tie-ins with New Moon will be HUGE.)

Anyway, in all seriousness, I think Baker’s article cuts right to the core of the problem that I, and so many other people, have with Twilight – Bella is terrible role model for a book aimed at young women and adolescent girls.

Like Baker, I grew up with fictional idols like Jo March and the Baby-Sitters Club, and Felicity, Kirsten, Addy, Samantha and Molly in the American Girls series – girls who were independent, adventurous, intelligent, hard-working, bright, and curious about the world around them.  Sure, they thought about boys, but these boys were never the focus of their world.  And of course they were flawed – what good literary character isn’t? – but they also learned and evolved and strove to outgrow or at least improve on those flaws.  They were dynamic, believable, likable characters whom the reader cared about because they cared about people, and their world and how they affected it.  And for a pre-adolescent girl, like I was at the time, they were wonderful role models.  They taught me about the kind of girl, and subsequently, woman, I wanted to be.

But Bella.  Bella, Bella, Bella.  Disregarding the fact that, on a strictly literary basis, she is an awful protagonist – a whiny, self-absorbed, static character who, over the course of the series does not change or grow much, and who is mainly reactive, rather than proactive, in her world – Bella, as well as author Stephanie Meyers’ treatment of her, sets a horrible example for the books’ young female readers.

Like Carly said as we discussed this article on Facebook, we both remember what it was like to be in high school and be in “love” with and obssessed with boys whom we thought were the end-all, be-all of our existence.  Every girl knows what that’s like, and that’s why women my age read the Twilight books and relate to them.  But where we lose patience with Bella is in the way she, at age 18, is so eager and willing to sacrifice everything for Edward.  No matter how crazy-obssessed with a boy my friends and I were – and there were quite a few we were crazy-obssessed with – we never, ever in a million years would have considered sacrificing our friends, our interests and hobbies, our college educations and careers, and certainly our mortal souls for them.  Maybe it was because there were no unfailingly romantic vampires who looked like Robert Pattinson at our high school.  Or maybe it was because we had strong female role models like Jo March and the American Girls to teach us about ambition and backbone and independence.

But what is Bella Swann teaching a generation of impressionable young girls?  That every man out there is a perfect moral gentleman who will take care of your every want and need?  That once you find said gentleman, it’s ok to cede your individual identity and become dependent on him for company, protection, happiness?  That because you feel an intense, passionate love for someone the first few months you’re dating him, it means you will feel that way forever, and should plan out the rest of your life accordingly?  That even if you are angsty, whiny, selfish and never lift a finger to help yourself, it’s ok, you’ll still always get your way and people will love you anyway?   That a woman doesn’t need anything else in this world but a man, and once she has that, she can sacrifice and forsake everything else?

What’s worse is that, despite myriad opportunities to show Bella – and subsequently, the young female readers – the error of her ways, Meyers instead consistently rewards Bella for her bad behavior.  Despite being basically an awful human being with no redeeming qualities (let’s call a spade a spade here), Bella is the object of affection for not one, but two men, Edward and Jacob, who apparently don’t realize they could do so much better.  It’s an especially dangerous line to walk because it validates this sort of behavior, sending the message to readers that, “Sure, it’s fine if you have nothing else in your life besides your boyfriend, that means you’re a really good girlfriend.  He’ll love you more if your world revolves around him.”

It’s not as if the Twilight series invented co-dependent relationships and weak-willed women.  What is disheartening and frankly, frightening about it is the way  the series glamorizes them to such a wide, impressionable audience.  Twilight readers like myself, and my other twenty-something friends, have the cynicism, strength and experience to take Twilight and its characters and themes with a grain of salt;  the books’ target audience of pre-teens, tweens and teens do not, and they’re the ones being taken advantage of by Stephanie Meyers and her delusional fever dreams about what relationships and love are all about.

Shame, shame.  One only wonders what Jo March would have to say about that.