A note on gender swapping (in threatre/literature)

I am frequently interested in gender swapping in the arts, especially in story telling.  I can't understate the number of hours I have spent imagining the gender-swapped production of Les Miserables that I will someday produce when I am rich and famous.  And I'm really excited to be going to see an all-female cast of Julius Caesar next month, and I'm exited to hear about a Manchester theatre company's reimagining of Hamlet where Hamlet is a woman.

I think reversing genders, especially in well-known stories, when done seriously, is a great way to open minds to new perspective and maybe expose just how ridiculous our assumptions about people/characters can be just because of the gender stereotypes we believe in.  For example this.

I've been thinking about this lately because I was randomly reading this blog post (pretty photos!) and thinking about the book Stargirl.  I read it a long time ago when my little sister was in middle school I think, because she had to read it for school, and I think the idea was that is was supposed to be inspirational to young girls and get them to talk about bullying or something.

I really really unimpressed with the book.  It's been a while since I've thought about it, and I definitely wasn't the target audience, so maybe I'm being unfair to it, but as far as I can remember I found the themes borderline vapid, and frankly Stargirl was ridiculous.

Maybe that is the point of the book, and I just didn't get it, but I guess what annoyed me the most about Stargirl's 'non-conformity' was that she was just doing extreme gender performance---- EXTREME niceness, singing to people on their birthdays, decorating her desk with a table cloth, integrating sunflowers into everything, donning different (female) costumes.  Through all of this, the male protagonist learn a lot about himself and becomes a better person.  I know it's blasé to cry manic pixie girl, but it's pretty hard not to in this case.

The above mentioned blog post quotes Stargirl.  The book's male protagonist (classmate and briefly boyfriend of Stargirl) describes Stargirl.  But when you take that description and flip the gender, the description becomes pretty silly and really begins to showcase this very thing that bugs me about Stargirl/Stargirl.

"A strange, otherworldly, yet beautiful creature of a boy who doesn’t quite belong in the world, yet here he is on earth. No one knows quite what to think of him because he’s different. He doesn’t walk, he floats, he doesn’t shine, he glows. He possesses a childlike innocence and naivety like no other; perhaps that’s what makes him different." (emphasis mine)

What ridiculous things to say!  If someone described me like that I would be so offended at the shallow, romanticized, infantilized representation.  It really just sounds like the narrator is describing a Disney princess.  How non-conformist is that in the end?

Ok, so maybe JK Rowling is a little bit of a genius.

Although I readily admit to getting a kick out the ole Harry Potter books, (not the least because they spawned a movie franchise that continuously parades the pantheon of British acting elites) but I've never really believed that they really qualify as "great work of literature."

Sure, the Harry Potter global phenomena (even pre-movies) needs to be acknowledged. And, to be fair, she's cooked up some pretty stupendous characters, dreamed up some great settings, has a pretty good sense of wholesome humor, and suspense, and can clearly write an engaging adventure. She definitely has a more than healthy dose of creativity and narrative-construction skills.

But still, in my book, she still wanders into some pretty cliched or let's say heavy borrowing of ideas not really worthy of her---why oh why the "chosen-one" prophesy thing? we were so fine without it!--- and her writing is not what I would consider "great prose."

HOWEVER, perhaps I've been overlooking a few other things that deserve mentioning.

I came across this blog post entitled "The Women of The Harry Potter Universe," and by golly, now that you point it out to me, JK has serious done something pretty incredible: She's constructed a world and a narrative that takes women's equality as a given.

As the article explains, the women in the Harry Potter books are not only well-constructed, dynamic characters who avoid stereotypes (not a treatment the gals regularly get) but they are just as awesome, active, and crucial to the stopping the baddies as the gents. Sure Harry is the protagonist, so we spend a bit more time fussing over his feelings and his mentors/nemesises (Dumbledore, Black, Malfoy, Snape) but he is only ever as good as his supporting cast--- male and female. And as Feurbach says:

"These women fill all sorts of roles: mothers (Molly Weasley, Narcissa Malfoy, Lily Potter), professors (McGonagall, Pomona Sprout, Sybill Trelawney), highly trained aurors (Tonks, Alice Longbottom), Dumbledore's Army members (Luna Lovegood, Ginny Weasley, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, the Patil twins, Lavender Brown), nurses (Madam Pomfrey), Triwizard champion (Fleur Delacour), and Quidditch players (Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, Cho Chang)."

The women are just as strong, diverse, competent, inspiring, and talented as the men who run about doing awesome things alongside them--- just like in real life.

But hold the applause. There is more.

What is even more incredible is that Rowling has also managed to give us a cast of male characters who see this whole thing as a non-issue. Harry, Ron, Neville, Dumbledore, Fred & George, Hagrid, Lupin, Dean, Seamus, Flitwick, and the rest of the lads are not wimping around worrying about the state of their masculinity and plotting petty ruses to undermine the ladies. Because you know what? It doesn't bother them.

Just because Hermione is brilliant, doesn't mean Harry can't be brilliant. McGonagall being great doesn't make Dumbledore somehow less great. Angelina Johnson and Oliver Wood can both be phenomenal athletes. You'd want Ginny and Mrs. Weasley on your side, just as much as you'd want Ron and Mr. Weasley. Lupin is not crippled with an inferiority complex because his wife is also a super-cool auror. Even Bellatrix is just as horrible as the other death eaters.

Somehow, these men are able coexist with these spectacular women without feeling threatened and inadequate. It goes without saying, that they can admire them, appreciate them, and, you know, respect them as equals. Again, just like thousands men in the real world! For some reason these men don't usually make it into our mainstream narratives, but thanks to Rowling, we've now got a few (quite a few) more!

In short, JK Rowling gives us a story in which men and women being equally extraordinary can work together to achieve victory over evil. And what a great story! Both genders bring tons of talent, courage, and charisma to the table--- regardless of their genders. She doesn't make a huge song and dance about how women and men are equal, she just shows us that they are.

The beauty is in the simplicity. And that, friends, is a pretty great achievement.

L'amour sans retour

Once upon a time there was a princess, and she had everything she could wish for, and a great deal more. Now, near the palace there was a cottage in which lived a poor, little, tiny woman, all alone. She was not old, but quite young. And one day, the princess stopped at the cottage and said to the tiny woman, "Let me see what you keep there."

So the tiny woman opened a very secret place and showed the princess a shadow. It was the shadow of someone who had passed by many years before.

"And you keep watch over this every day?" said the princess.

"Yes," said the tiny woman, because no one so good or kind had passed that way ever since.

And the princess realized that of all of gold and silver, her diamonds and rubies, she had nothing so precious to her as that shadow was to that tiny woman.

--- an abridged version of a story told by Amy from Little Dorrit (Dickens)