This
post started as a rant against the use of the phrase “strong female
character”, that meaningless buzz phrase trotted out when comic
companies deign to advertise one of their female properties. It can
mean anything: that the character is physically strong, that she's
emotionally resilient or that the writing is going to be of
consistent quality. You just don't know and some clarity would be
nice. That's bad enough but it occurred to me there's a second
problem with the phrase:
Strength
ain't that interesting.
What's
more we know this: the standard template criticism of Superman is
that as a physically invulnerable, emotionally perfect individual
there's not really anywhere to go with the character. Superior
interpretations of the character (at least the ones I've connected
with) introduce a flaw of some kind: All-Star Superman confronted him
with his own mortality; New Krypton turned him into an unwanted lone
peacemaker between humans and Kryptonians; and For Tomorrow presented
him with a genuine crisis of faith.
To
break this down to pure theory: a character's flaws, whether they get
over them or fall prey to them, generate more plots than their
strengths. If Hamlet weren't a ditherer his uncle would have been
dead by Act 2 and we'd be missing some of the best speeches in the
whole Shakespeare canon.
As
to female characters probably one of the comic writers most praised
for their female characters is Greg Rucka who, you may have guessed,
is a man. I'm choosing to highlight him over, say, Gail Simone or
Kelly Sue deConnick because when a man writes a woman its put under a
huge microscope by female fandom and often (unsurprisingly) found
wanting. Rucka, though, has not one but two female characters who are
regularly held up as a sort of gold standard for writing women in
comics: Renee Montoya and Tara Chase.
In
Gotham Central and later as The Question, Rucka put Renee Montoya
through the emotional wringer: combating alcoholism; the death of her
partner; the ethical dilemma of avenging his death when the law
proved insufficient; and, not least, being forced out of the closet
and having to confront the reaction of her staunchly traditional
Catholic parents. There was also her use in setting up Batwoman's
past in which she was both the love of Kate Kane's life but by being
closeted also represented an act of deception Kate had made the
active moral decision not to engage in despite it robbing her of her
lifelong dream. These issues drove the personal evolution of the
character for close to a decade between Gotham Central #1 and the
character's disappearance following Flashpoint and the New 52 reboot.
With
Tara Chase in Queen & Country, Rucka went further, and we have a
character who is almost entirely made of flaws. Tara is a genuinely
competent, even gifted, MI-6 agent but as the series progresses we
learn that not only does she have significant emotional flaws but
that she was selected as an elite “Minder” agent because of them:
they make her a more effective weapon in her handler's arsenal but
cause her enormous pain as a human being.
Both
of these characters are praised, not universally of course, and under
certain interpretations of the phrase they could certainly be called
“strong female characters” but that's not what makes them most
interesting. I'd rather have meaningfully “complex” over
meaninglessly “strong” any day.
2 comments:
As good as ever. It's always a pleasure to read your posts James.
Thanks, Saranga, always nice to hear.
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