Amy Reads the Week (of April 27th, 2007)

Today, Gentle Reader, found me Quite Aware of several of my popular cultures. I went to The Coffee Conglomerate Giant to get some work done, and I carried said work in my Buffy the Vampire Slayer tote bag. Then I wandered over to The Corporate Toy Store to search for the new series 2 of the Marvel Legends figures for Mr. Reads. While searching through various Wasps and Emma Frosts and Planet Hulks (oh my!), a Nice Young Gentleman asked me if I needed some help.

“No, thanks,” I said. “Just looking.” I wasn’t intentionally terse, but I was on my cell phone with Mr. Reads at the time, trying to determine which figures, specifically, he was searching for.

“By the way, your shirt rocks,” Nice Young Gentleman said, and gestured at my “Justice League of America” t-shirt. “They won’t let me wear my fun shirts to work.”

“I can’t wear mine to work, either,” I said. “So I wear them when I can.”

Mr. Reads, still on the line, was laughing, as we have often commented on How Incredibly Cool and Friendly the Nice Young Gentlemen and Ladies who work at Said Toy Store are. “Cool” for Mr. Reads and This Humble Author means, of course, that Said Cool Person is Pop-Culturally Aware of the things that We, Ourselves, are aware of. That is to say, Mr. Reads and I often define “Coolness” by one’s competence and knowledge in Those Areas of Fandom That We Love.

This Fandom Moment was rather welcome today, as I spent the majority of my morning seething over something I read on The Internet. In fact, I seethed so much, Gentle Reader, that I delayed, yes, *delayed* writing this column because I knew, ultimately, that it would disintegrate into a rant. And while I appreciate The Occasional Rant on The Internet (and have Indulged Myself a time or two), I remember, above all else, the lesson I learned upon first experiencing The Internet At Large, some ten, twelve years back:

Do Not Feed The Trolls.

So instead of responding, or writing this column, I seethed quietly. I mentally composed tomes of replies, and I persisted in these useless responses until I remembered to marvel at my Buffy bag, I had the opportunity to share in the delight of the JLA with a Fellow Fan, I popped in a CD and continued to (talent) crush on Nathan Willett of Cold War Kids Fame. Until I remembered that Pop Culture is about Us, All of Us, We Few, We Happy Few, We Band of Fandoms.

These things, these fandom objects, seemingly, then, carry a mystical, portentous weight. My Buffy tote bag, my JLA t-shirt, my Wonder Woman day planner, the Reads Family Spider-Man travel mug, even, define me (and in the latter’s case, Mr. Reads) because they were objects chosen, specifically, by me, for me. They were objects purchased with the intent for public display. Unlike some other items in our fandom—my signed copy of Connie Willis’s Bellwether, say, or my Boba Fett pez dispenser—that stay within the home, these other objects are almost talismanic. They are proclamations of the things we adore. The things that make us happy.

But further, they are, above all else, invitations for communication.

I invite you, Gentle Reader, to communicate with me. What are some of your talismanic fandom objects? Tell us about your Batman messenger bags, your Superman ties, your X-Men t-shirts. What’s your favorite item?

Amy Reads the Week (of April 20th, 2007)

This week has been Quite Musical, Gentle Reader, and for Some Strange Reason, I feel the need to discuss the musical side of my popular culture today.

Wait, let me explain.

There was a time in my life, perhaps as long as ten (!!!) years ago, that I truly had my finger on the pulse of the American and British musical scenes. Indie, of course, although I think we called it Alternative in those days. It Could Even Be Said that I was, yes, it’s true, Friends, a Musical Snob. I sneered down my nose at those In The Popular Know, and I took Great Pleasure in knowing the most obscure bands producing the most obscure tapes in the world.

Flash forward ten years, and I’ve settled, somewhat uncomfortably, in the first inklings of middle age. And now, the hipster students on campus sport band t-shirts with names with which I’m completely unfamiliar. How did this *happen*? I ask myself. When did I become so very divorced from the musical genre?

And it’s not completely true, I realize. But there was a time in my life when I actively would seek out new bands, and now, I’m lucky if a few fall in my lap. But this week, for many, various reasons, found me listening, Quite Intently, to new finds and old favorites. My playlist has been, I must admit, strange and varied this week, and I’ve even had the odd compulsion to burn a CD or make a mixed tape or two.

Yes, it’s true, Friends. It really has been That Kind of Week. Here’s a tiny sampling of my playlists over the past several days.

The Cold War Kids have topped my charts this week, and as I confessed to Mr. Reads yesterday, I find myself with Quite The Talent Crush on Nathan Willett. This kind of Talent Crush, I assured My Dear Husband, hasn’t happened for me since David Bowie reinvented himself in the mid-nineties. But the Cold War Kids, with their Billie Holiday and Tom Waits influence, with their Hedwig-and-Jeff-Buckley croons, have really sparked my admiration in a big way.

Midlake is another new favorite, and Roscoe is truly one of my favorite songs of the year (do understand, Gentle Reader, that I am An Academic; my years begin and end in August). Bonus, they’re from Denton, and I’ve always had a Soft Spot for bands from small university towns.

Amy Winehouse is a powerhouse of a singer, and she’s everything I love about Billie Holiday, Nina Simone, and Beth Gibbons in one voice. Her song “Rehab” has helped me bounce a bit in a week that has been, I’m sorry to say, decidedly lacking in bounce.

Death Cab for Cutie is a band that I just adore, and have for several years now. Plans may be their best album yet, and I can’t stop listening to “Soul Meets Body.” No, really, I can’t.

Zero 7 is another recent find, and it’s really as if Beth Gibbons found her protégé and gave her a microphone. But they’re not completely Portishead-like, and that small difference makes me enjoy them all that much more.

Jeremy Enigk (and the Fire Theft) is just about my favorite singer producing today. I was (and still am) a huge Sunny Day Real Estate fan, but for me, SDRE was less about the music and more about Enigk’s voice. I absolutely adore his voice, and I find that the music in his solo work and his work with The Fire Theft is far more interesting than his work with Sunny Day.

A few other honorable mentions this week: Martina Topley-Bird, Portishead, Jose Gonzales, Sun Kil Moon, Lily Allen (I can’t help it, really; I adore her), Tom McRae, Catherine Wheel (a true blast from the past for This Humble Author), and Beirut.

As always, Gentle Reader, please share your recommendations with me!

Make Mine Amazonian: A Brief Review of Wonder Woman #7

The Suffragettes understood the difficulty of discussing pressing concerns during larger, national and international crises, Gentle Reader. When The Great War broke out, they were expected to forgo their fight for The Larger Fight. Put down your placard and hammer, Sister Suffragette; the riveters need a Rosie, the boys need your support. When they continued to demand the Vote, on both sides of the Pond, they were chastised, condemned, and even physically hurt because of it.

But they kept on keeping on, fought the good fight, brought the government to reconciliation with its female population. The Suffragettes won the vote, a legal voice, decades, a century after the fight began In Earnest. They were called harridans, unsexed females (a term This Humble Author truly despises, the use of “females” rather than “women”), The Shrieking Sisterhood, the Damned Mob. They protested, hunger striked, broke windows and set fires, wrote letters upon letters upon letters, demanded justice and a voice and they got it, finally, after so much suffering, violence, pain, and even, in Emily Davison’s case, martyred death.

Women fought, bled, and died for This Humble Author to have The Right To Vote. They fought, bled, starved, and bruised for me to minor in Women’s Studies, for me to be a Feminist Scholar, for me to write a dissertation that in no small part is about them. Centuries upon centuries of suffering, Gentle Reader. Centuries. And it still hasn’t helped completely.

It. By It, I of course mean The Struggle for Women’s Rights. I mean Feminism. I mean that sometimes we tear ourselves down from the inside out.

So many of my Brother and Sister Bloggers have reviewed Wonder Woman #7, and all of them reviewed it well. As it was with #6, so it is with #7. There isn’t much I can add to the conversation. Wonder Woman is behaving in a strange, horrifying manner. She’s expressing concern over the broken body of a colleague, then dropping him because he, in a delusional pained state, makes an off-color joke. And she smiles, yes, *smiles*, Friends, while she does it.

Why does so much of popular culture insist that Feminism is about misandry? Why does so much of popular culture insist that Feminists hate men? Hate women? And, in all truth, hate themselves?

This Is Not My Wonder Woman.

I have been a Wonder Woman fan for over 25 years. I have read countless incarnations of her. I supported Diana Prince, lover of Steve Trevor. I supported Princess Diana, ambassador of peace. I even supported Wonder Woman, killer of Maxwell Lord, savior of humanity. And throughout this, I have always known that *Wonder Woman Is Not Human*.

Why, why, Friends, do so many try to insist she become so?

Wonder Woman is a fascinating character because she *isn’t* us. She has a different set of morals, skills, and requirements. She has a different sense of Justice. She is a Zealot, you might even say, for Justice. Blinded by it, literally, in the case of Rucka’s run, because she refuses, that’s right, *refuses* to stop her quest for justice.

She killed Maxwell Lord because that was the only way to protect those she was sworn to protect. She may experience regret, she may believe that she needs to understand humanity in order to return as its savior, but in the end, She Is Not Human.

And therein lies the rub, Gentle Reader. I don’t want a human Wonder Woman. Make mine Amazonian. Make mine Other. Make mine Princess Diana.

Why do we, as a society, try so hard to make the Other One Of Us? Why do we try to normalize, insist, yes, insist that there is a “Normal” in the first place? Why do we pretend that Wonder Woman is less alien than Superman, when in fact, she’s not? Or even that just because Batman happens to be Bruce Wayne, that he is human, and therefore “Normal”?

Why do we need our heroes to be Just Like Everyone Else?

I don’t know if I’ve said this before, Friends, but I adore Martian Manhunter. I adore him, specifically, because he is so alien. When he finds something human that he likes, he expresses nothing but Pure Joy (Oreos! Yes, Oreos!). I adore Hellboy for the same reason. Because both characters insist on being What They Want to Be, rather than What Others Expect Them To Be. Martian Manhunter is never as interesting as when he rejects his human form; Hellboy is never as interesting as when he rejects his demonic expectations.

Wonder Woman is never less interesting as when she caricaturizes Feminism.

She is a Symbol for Women’s Rights, has been for a few decades now, and despite her strange origins, she stands for Feminism, now. The problem is that so many producers of popular culture don’t really, truly understand what Feminism is. The reason is almost frighteningly simple, really, because *there is no one Feminism*.

That is to say, Feminism is not misandry. It’s not a She-Woman Man-Hating Club. It’s not a self-loathing cycle of despair, either. I am not a Feminist because I hate men. I am not a Feminist because I hate myself. Nor am I a Feminist because I hate other women, and want to fight them for any scrap of power I can grab.

I am a Feminist because I believe in equal rights. I am a Feminist because I believe that we live in a society that forces women into maternity, heterosexual imperatives, low-paying jobs, domesticity, self-hatred, particularly of their own bodies, proms, believing Math is Hard! and that Sci-Fi and Comics are for Boys! I am a Feminist because women *fought* and *died* for me, yes, *me*, to have more rights, various opportunities, and a better life than they themselves had. I am a Feminist because I believe Woman’s Story is mostly untold. I am a Feminist because I am physically stronger and intellectually smarter than some men, and not so much than others, and I’m completely okay with both. I am a Feminist because I believe Women should be whatever they want to be, whether that’s a CEO or a Stay-At-Home-Mom. Feminism gives us the Choice.

I am a Feminist because I believe in Choice.

I am a Feminist because I have the power to speak for those who can’t speak for themselves, and I therefore have the imperative to do so.

Wonder Woman became a Hero because she had the power to do so. She fought for the right to come and help “Man’s World,” or maybe she just had “Mother Issues,” but in the end, she has come to help. Yes, Friends, To Help. And if she’s soul-searching, or trying to find herself, or just taking a vacation, I support her. But if Becoming Human, or Finding Herself means that she no longer cares about people in pain, just because those people happen to be men? I can’t, in all good consciousness, believe that this is the same character that blinded herself to fight Medusa. Or that this is the same character that began said soul-searching in the first place because *she hurt and killed a human*.

Let’s bring back what’s truly interesting about Wonder Woman: her Otherness. The navigation of this world through *her* eyes. Her Amazonian Ideals. Her frightening sense of Pure Justice.

Make Mine Amazonian again, please.

Amy Reads the Week (of April 13th, 2007)

Honestly, Gentle Reader, this week’s been a bit of a Nightmare, and next week’s not looking all that much better. There was some good, certainly, as Mr. Reads celebrated his 32^nd birthday on Wednesday, and received many happy gifts, most of which were Comic Book Related. Action figures and graphic novels and pre-ordering, Oh My! But the Reads Household has been In A Bit Of A Tizzy over recent busy-ness, crazy-ness, and just insanity, in general.

That is to say that I’ve done no reading outside of academia, and my viewing pleasures have been few and far between. I’ve heard some downright Scary Things about Wonder Woman #7, and therefore haven’t even picked up our weeklies yet. But, yes, there’s a but, Friends, I’ve just heard some Marvelous, *Wonderful* news from Our Dear Friend, Mr. Fanboy.

It’s true, Gentle Reader. Gail Simone is the new writer on Wonder Woman.

I think, therefore, it’s quite fair to say that my week, thus far Quite Terrible And Awful, just got a lot better.

DC, you have done a very, *very* smart thing, and you have made This Humble Author the happiest of happy campers. Further, you’ve done more than just hire a female author to pen The Premiere Superheroine Title. You’ve hired one of the best writers in comics today, and, truth be told, This Humble Author’s Personal Favorite.

When the Giants Sleep

So it goes, Gentle Reader.

We have lost an icon. We have lost Kurt Vonnegut.

When Batman’s Got Your Back(story)...: A (Very!) Brief Review of Wonder Woman #6

Gentle Reader, there is really nothing I can add to the ongoing debate surrounding Wonder Woman #6. My Brother and Sister Bloggers have said it all for me, and said it Quite Well. Don't believe me? When Fangirls Attack! has collected several recent reviews for us. However, I will say, with some conviction, that I was, to put it mildly, a bit disappointed with this latest issue. The credit cards, the subway turnstiles, the pumping of the gas, all of it seemed a bit Out Of Character with a superhero defined as “Wise As Athena.”

But there is one point that haunts me, again and again, and I’d like to present it for your input.

If Batman—yes, that’s right, Friends, *The* Batman—creates an identity for you, wouldn’t that include basic understanding of said new identity?

That is to say, if Bruce were trying to help out his Dear Friend Diana, wouldn’t he, I don’t know, teach her to use credit cards and pump gas if he suspected she were unaware of such things?

I’m still reading Wonder Woman, Friends; I’m still buying the title, and I’m willing to give any writer a chance. But I was as unimpressed with #6 as I was impressed with #5. #7 is out Very Soon Indeed, as is Amazons Attack. I’m curious, very curious, to see how all of this falls together.

For the Birds!

Gail Simone's leaving The Birds, Gentle Reader.

I would be absolutely devastated about this, Friends, except for the following two Reveals in her interview:

1) Sean McKeever's taking over, and I trust him to maintain the high quality of writing we see with Ms. Simone's run on BOP. As I'm sure many of you know, Spider-Man Loves Mary Jane is one of This Humble Author's favorite comic series. His writing is fun, poignant, witty, charming, and intelligent, all at the same time.

Yes, of course, Ms. Reads, you're saying. That's well and good. The Birds will be written by an author of similar quality. But why does her departure from the Birds not make you devastated?

Well, Friends, that's quite simple, really.

2) Ms. Simone says she's leaving the Birds for a Dream Gig on a Dream Book.

Say it's Wonder Woman, Ms. Simone. Please. Please, say it's Wonder Woman, or a Big Barda title. Or a Batgirl title. Or Supergirl. Or...

That is to say, if Ms. Simone's happy with the choice, I *know* I will be happy.

Thanks to Shelly for the news and interview link!

Amy Reads the Week (of April 6th, 2007)

Happy April, Gentle Reader! Mr. Reads and I have Quite the Burgeoning Garden going; our tomato, garden salsa pepper, and sweet pepper plants are growing, the basil, oregano, and chives are all happy and healthy, and just yesterday, there was the tiniest hint of green in our freshly planted strawberry pot. There is a cold front sweeping through the South this weekend, however, so we need to Keep An Eye on possible frost!

I must admit something, though: I’m not a huge fan of Spring. Fall and Winter are definitely My Seasons Of Choice, and I can pretty much do without Spring, and I *certainly* can do without Summer. I despite the heat, I despise the Lack Of Programming, and the only thing exciting that Spring and Summer bring, other than the new happiness of our new garden, is the occasional New Book. And this week, yes, Friends, this week brought the new Harry Dresden Novel.

I was a reluctant Harry fan in the beginning. The first few books make it difficult to distinguish between Harry’s innate chauvinism and the attitude of the book. But as I kept reading, I realized that Harry’s chauvinism, his continuous desire to Save Women From Themselves, was in fact a *huge* character flaw, and therefore Quite The Interesting Character Flaw Indeed! I’ve met other readers who had similar reactions, both male and female alike, and even Mr. Reads, upon handing me the first Dresden novel, told me to give it a book or two before I made judgment.

Some book series suffer from extension. Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum books, for example, and undeniably Laurell K. Hamilton’s Anita Blake series (which This Humble Author stopped reading at least six or seven books back). But the Dresden Files, on the other hand, get more interesting, more in depth, and *better written* every book. You can’t say that often, and when you can, you revel in it, just a bit.

As Mr. Reads and I are sharing the reading of one book, and as Mr. Reads’ birthday is next Wednesday and therefore I’m giving him First Dibs on Mr. Dresden’s adventures, I’m reading a bit slower than I’d like. But low and behold, a recent trip to the library uncovered a few more gems that have slipped through my mental cracks. Yesterday, I came home with the new Nancy Martin book in her Blackbird Sisters Mystery series, which is a delightful cozy mystery series with a heavy emphasis on vintage haute couture—some of This Humble Author’s Favorite Kind of Fashion! I also came home with the new short story collection by Kage Baker, which details more adventures in the Company series. Arriving soon in stores is, of course, the Last Harry Potter novel, and a bit farther down the line, the next of Greg Rucka’s Atticus Kodiak series. Two, yes, Gentle Reader, two new Connie Willis books grace us with Their Presence this summer and fall, and the seventh book in Charlaine Harris’s Southern Vampire Series arrives the beginning of May.

Enjoy that Other Written Word, Gentle Reader, as I plan to, as well. We’ve today off from university, and Sunday, I can finally (finally!) eat chocolate again without guilt. This weekend, and Sunday, in particular, I plan to read As Much As I Can, before work, work, work begins again.

Amy Reads the Week (of March 30th, 2007)

Super Spectacular Women’s History Month Edition #5!

Often in our pop cultures, Gentle Reader, there is a dichotomous presentation of Woman offered; Madonna or Magdalene, Pure or Sexy, Good Girl or Bad Girl, Woman is often one or the other, but rarely, if ever, both. The Good Girl is so very, very good, and the Bad Girl? Well, she’s usually better. Both have sex appeal in their own right, both are desirous to those-who-like-women, and both can tread, just a toe or two, on The Other Side.

Because we so very love when our Good Girls go A Little Bad, or our Bad Girls have that ever-flaunted Heart o’Gold, or when we see a Bad Girl vulnerable and a Good Girl sexy. It seems—just seems, Gentle Reader!—that we like our dichotomies because they offer the chance to be something other than a stereotype.

This is, of course, the moment when the non-stereotype *becomes* the stereotype. That is to say, when Sandy in Grease puts on the leather pants, she’s not *really* a Good Girl Gone Bad, but rather, the Good Girl proving that she can, if Danny so desires, be A Little Bad. Or when Faith cries in Angel’s arms, telling him that she is Nothing At All, it’s not *really* a Bad Girl Gone Good, but rather, the Bad Girl proving that she does, deep down inside, want to be loved. The Good Girl’s Sexiness, and the Bad Girl’s Vulnerability, then, become part of the very definitions of these two types, and therefore are wrapped up in the very stereotype laid out for them in the first place.

Part of our desire for these stereotypes is, of course, our desire to fix things or sully them, our desire to Reform the Rake or Uncross Crossed Legs, our desire to be The One who will change things, for a little Good, or a little Bad. But most importantly, these two stereotypes of female characters, more often than not, demonstrate a complete lack of understanding of women’s power over their own bodies. That is to say, part of the Madonna/Magdalene stereotype is the firm desire to see women either as virginal or fallen, but rarely in charge of their own sexuality.

Our popular culture representations of women’s sexuality are troubling, at least, and Quite Frightening, at worst. Gallons of ink, both literal and cyber, have been spilled over the (Sexy) Woman Question in various media, and We, None of Us, can come to a consensus. Sexy, demeaning, outlandish, uncomfortable, ridiculous, beautiful, all of these words and more have been used to describe the costumes of various comic book characters, of television stars, of video game characters.

Wonder Woman, for example, wears spankies and a bustier, but I certainly would never call her outfit outlandish. She is, of course, very firmly in the Good Girl Camp, as she does, after all, come from an Entire Island Of Women (and no men). Catwoman, on the other hand, covers her entire body, from neck to toes, and still, there is no denying the skintight fantasy of her (literal) Catsuit. Then, of course, Catwoman is very firmly in the Bad Girl Camp, an ex-prostitute, no less, who has no qualms about her own sexuality. At all. Buffy often Slayed Vampires in heels, leather pants, and tank tops, but since she was a Good Girl, those outfits seemed fine, while Faith, the Bad Girl of All Bad Girl Slayers, Slayed in the same, and made it seem overtly sexual.

I work on fashion, Gentle Reader, in my Academic Life, and while the fashion I study is of the decidedly Bustled and Crinolined variety, I do occasionally foray into twentieth-century discussions. I pay particular attention to discussions of clothing—or lack thereof—in the Comic Book Universe, because more often than not, the discussion boils down to a Dichotomy of Its Own: “it’s just a comic book” versus “it’s never ‘just a comic book.’”

As a concluding thought in my month-long Women’s History Month Edition of this column, I’d like to point out this very thought that has haunted me for Some Time Now and is, in fact, the very reason I began this blog in the first place: the idea that Things Don’t Matter if those Things occur in popular culture. It just isn’t so, Friends, and here’s why.

Popular Culture reflects the desires, and fears, of the society in which it exists.

It’s why Wonder Woman and Superman fight off Nazis in the 1940s, why we saw so many movies about the dangers of genetic testing a few years back, why since 9/11 America has had a wealth of film and television about superheroes. It’s why teenagers are punished in horror movies for having sex, why spy movies became so popular during the height of the Cold War, why the Geek gets the Girl, always. Even farther and even faster, it’s why Stepmothers are the Bad Guys in fairy tales, why Cinderella becomes a Princess, why Children should never wander into Dark Woods alone.

It’s why the Good Girl, if she Stays Good, will get the Guy, why the Bad Girl can be reformed, and usually through Death.

All of these desires and fears are represented through familiar storylines, yes, and also, through familiar images, and symbols, and tropes. White for purity, water for birth and rebirth, fire for cleansing, yellow for disease. If there is a killer on the loose, and you say “I’m going to go check the basement,” you know, With Great Certainty, that you will not come back alive. If there are zombies, gardening tools are Your Best Friends, and if there are vampires, images and ideas of Catholicism will save you, whether you’re Catholic or not. It’s why curly hair represents both ethnicity and danger in women, and why certain white shirts on men signal violence against women.

It’s why Wonder Woman’s lasso is golden, Catwoman’s whip is black, and Willow’s hair turns white at the end of Buffy. It’s why Faith of “Young Goodman Brown” fame wears pink ribbons. It’s why Queen Victoria only appeared in public in black, after Albert’s death. Symbols, representations, cultural tropes and motifs that are understood, digested, and *read* by All of Us.

150 years ago, Gentle Reader, Charles Dickens was just about the most popular author In The World. His books were read (and sometimes written) in installments, and he sold thousands upon thousands of copies. Everyone knew the characters, the stories, and the ideas, whether they read the books or not. That is what it means to be an author of popular culture. Today, his books are considered High Literature, and are studied in schools and universities worldwide. This Humble Author herself studies Mr. Dickens, and has yet to hear anyone tell her to stop reading, writing, and teaching his work because “it’s just a popular book.”

Let us enjoy our popular cultures, and let us take them seriously. Let us not dismiss other’s concerns over sexism, or exclusion, because we don’t care about those specific concerns. Let us remember that we, All Of Us, have concerns and joys and fears and hopes in our Popular Cultures, and desiring change for the skimpy fashions of our superheroines, or development of female characters beyond the Good Girl/Bad Girl dichotomy are concerns that are just as important as those over the revival of a character long since dead, or an unpopular retcon.

Because we love them enough to care, to discuss, to blog, to buy, to read, to rejoice, to rebuke, they’re never, ever, *ever* Just Comic Books.

I considered writing a list as a celebration of Complexity, and of Popular Culture, and as a Last Hurrah of Women’s History Month. One consideration was for a Good Girl/Bad Girl list, and another was for 31, yes, 31 Complex Female Characters of Popular Culture. But instead, I want to hear from you, Gentle Reader. Give me your lists, or your recommendations, of women in popular culture. Who am I not following, but should be? What writer am I not reading, To My Detriment? As always, I am on the lookout for A Few (More) Good Books/Films/Shows!

Above all else, enjoy the rest of Women’s History Month, this celebration of Women Remembered and Forgotten, of Heroes who Fought the Good Fight. Let's remember those who fought for our voice, even though they themselves were allowed No Voice Of Their Own. Let us remember those women, Fictional and Historical, who Defied Stereotypes, both Good and Bad, to make the world A Better Place.

For the Good Girls, and the Bad Ones, for the Good Girls Gone Bad, and Bad Girls Gone Good, and those who are Just Okay and Somewhat Middling and Quite In Charge of Their Bodies and Selves and Lives, and Those We Love To Hate and Those We Hate To Love, and just Those That We Can't Help But Love because they Defy Stereotypes and Refuse to be Pigeonholed into One-Dimensionality.

For those women, and the thousands more, We Salute You.

Catch a Falling Star(dust)

Gentle Reader, it's finally online! Go watch the Stardust trailer, won't you?
Michelle Pfeiffer has been one of This Humble Author's favorite actresses since I was a small, small girl. She is nothing but perfect here. Sincerely.
Enjoy!

Amy Reads the Week (of March 23rd, 2007)

Super Spectacular Women’s History Month Edition #4!

Gentle Reader, if you look at the sidebar to the right, you’ll see that Manhunter is on my pull list. Well, I need to confess something: Manhunter only made my list because of the Wonder Woman crossover. I read the first issue of that crossover, realized that I would never understand half of what was going on unless I read the whole series, and then months and months went by, without doing that very thing.

Mr. Reads has sworn, for months and maybe years now, that I would Absolutely Adore Manhunter. He believed this fact so much so that he gave me all 29 issues and said READ. As last week was, so very wonderfully, Spring Break Week for the Family Reads, I actually had Some Time To Myself one evening while Mr. Reads D&Ded with his friends. There were jellybeans, a snuggly Pup Reads to warm my toes, and 29 issues of Manhunter just waiting to be read.

And Friends, I have to say that Shelly is 100% correct: Manhunter *is* the best comic book I probably wasn’t reading. But I’ve rectified that. Scout’s Honor.

How to express the Total Joy over seeing a comic book that understands that a Heroine doesn’t have to be perfect? Or even suffer from One Fatal Flaw? No Hubris for Kate Spencer. No Hubris at all. Just a nicotine habit (which This Humble Author certainly can understand, even after 6 months cigarette-free!), anxiety over career and parenting and marriage, and not one, no, not *one* gratuitous romantic interest. Kate’s anxieties, it seems, are better served by her heroing, or her lawyering, or, God forbid, the Ever-Present Editorial Axe looming over her Precious DC Head.

When comic book readers ask for characters they can relate to—whether those readers are of the Double-X Chromosome Persuasion or otherwise—said readers are not asking for carbon copies. That is, when I ask, “Please, let me see a character I can relate to!” that wish can be fulfilled by a Kate Spencer (workaholic, anxious, ex-smoker), a Hellboy (looks different than others, tries to do the right thing, often confused by conflicting expectations on him), a Batman (slightly OC with a dash of martyr complex thrown in to seal the deal), or an Oracle (workaholic, trying to help and protect friends and family). That wish can be fulfilled a number of different ways, all of them good, all of them relatable by thousands of other readers, as well.

But most importantly—and indeed, perhaps, the Most Important Of All—I ask for characters that don’t suffer under stereotypes, whether those stereotypes are gender-specific, or race-specific, or sexual-preference-specific, or otherwise. Kate Spencer is a straight woman that isn’t running herself ragged looking for That Special Man To Complete Her Life. She belies the stereotype that all single women in their 30s must have a man to complete her. Rather, Kate gets divorced, co-exists rather well with her ex-husband, his new wife, their new child, and Kate’s son, of whom majority custody goes to the father. Nor is Kate The Perfect Mother, or The Failed Mother, two major motifs involving women and popular social conceptions of maternity. She makes parenting mistakes, she recognizes those mistakes, and she does what, truly, is best for her son: she shares custody with his father.

In fiction, we so often see the trope of the Monstrous Mother, that woman, almost fairy-tale in origin and evil, who is selfish, greedy, non-nurturing, sexual, everything that almost every society says a mother decidedly should *not* be. We have the Victorians to thank for our current conceptions of Maternity (the Domestic Goddess in her robes and crown of white), but this Perfect Mother Expectation we have goes back centuries. Mothers are not selfish, or sexual, or greedy, or anything but nurturing. So says society, therefore so say we all (gratitude, BSG).

“Mother is the name for God in the lips and hearts of all children,” says the Crow in O’Barr’s comic book. “Do you understand? Do you understand?” Not Father, but Mother. Mother is the name for God, the name for perfection, for perfect expectation.

Mother.

We have, as a society, somewhat romanticized the bond between Mother and Child. We expect it as a biological imperative, and when we see refusals of those expectations—the mother who abandons her children, or chooses leave-the-home-career over stay-at-home-career—we see them as aberrations, not only of our expectations, but of the very fabric of our society. The very things that hold us together. But by placing biological imperatives on parenting, and, in particular, maternity, we discount those parents who adopt, or raise another’s child, or the countless sisters and brothers and aunts and uncles and grandparents and friends and teachers who all take an active part in raising a child. It doesn’t only take a mother or a village; it takes a world.

Kate Spencer offers a progressive approach to motherhood that belies the somewhat traditional expectations comic books place on that role. One Year Later, she shares her mothering duties with her husband’s new wife, and even before then, she comes to the conclusion that her husband is a better parent than she is, a conclusion not often reached, even today. But even further, she is a Mother, in a comic book. There aren’t many of them, Friends, and perhaps we should wonder why.

Or perhaps we don’t even have to wonder why. Parenting is hard, the gig that never ends, even after the children become upstanding citizens. One rightfully can’t put one’s life in danger every night of the week and not expect some of that to spill over. Some get a little help from their friends (Catwoman), while some relinquish custody to the better-fit parent (Manhunter), while some enlist the adopted or biological child into the fight against evil (Hippolyta, Black Canary I). Some children’s lives are threatened because of their parents’ crimefighting (Helena, Catwoman’s daughter), and some are downright wiped from existence (Scarlet Witch’s children).

I’ve discussed maternity in comics before, particularly in regards to Catwoman and Black Canary, but I think this is a larger social concern that is being replicated in our pop culture media. We expect our mothers to be perfect, selfless beings, and perhaps—just perhaps, Gentle Reader!—we expect our maternal heroines to be even more perfect, even more selfless. Kate Spencer is a mother *and* a superhero; she sacrifices not only for her child, but for *the entire world*. Selina Kyle does the same, and the reason for both seems to be making the world safe, for the children. For *their* children.

Gail Simone’s theory regarding Women in Refrigerators demonstrates how girlfriends and wives often are used/hurt/killed to get at male heroes, and I’d like to point out the heroine version of this theory. We see an overwhelming amount of Children In Dark Woods stories involving children and their heroinic mothers (gratitude to Ragtime for the invention of the word “heroinic”!). Children in Dark Woods is, of course, the fairy tale motif of Children In Danger precisely because their mother was 1) not their mother (i.e. stepmother), 2) not paying attention (i.e. selfish), or 3) threatening (i.e. a woman of power). Women are put in Refrigerators to hurt male heroes, and children are stolen, threatened, or lost to hurt the female ones. WiR suggests that the worst possible pain for a man is not only to lose the person he loves, but also to be *unable to save her*. Children in Dark Woods suggests the same for women, but make it a child, and make it the suggestion of Bad Motherhood.

And that is the clencher, no? If a male hero’s girlfriend/wife is hurt or killed to get at him, he isn’t considered a bad boyfriend or husband. But if a heroine’s child is hurt or killed to get at her, she most likely is considered to be a Bad Mother. And there are few labels worse in our society than Bad Mother. When Kate Spencer’s son is hurt because he was playing with her Manhunter weapons, she is not the only one who thinks that she’s been a Bad Mother; everyone does. Even This Humble Author has suffered under this assumption (yes, even me, Gentle Reader!) in that I took Selina to task for being so carefree with her own life when Helena needs her, oh so much.

I have No Definitive Answers, Friends, because this isn’t a problem easily solved. Rather, let us think on those stereotypes as they exist not only in comic books, but in the world. And perhaps let us Call Attention to Things Such As This the next time someone says, “it’s just a comic book! What does it matter that Powergirl’s breasts are so large?” or, “it’s just a comic book! Why do the liberals always have to have a gay/black/female/cheesecake-loving hero to read it?” It’s never *just a comic book* because—I’ve said it before and I will say it a thousand times more—our pop culture reflects our innermost desires.

Our popular culture reflects Us.

So in honor of those who fight for our rights, change our diapers, balance our checkbooks, bring home the bacon *and* cook it, I offer you a list of my Seven Favorite Fictional Heroinic Mothers—one for every day I read the week, of course!

1) Joyce Summers – Buffy’s mother, after initial disbelief, took her daughter’s Slaying in stride, and even came to be a formidable Force Against Darkness, in that she kept her daughter, and the Scooby Gang, loved. Her death was one of the more painful and heartbreaking moments in television history.

2) Lorelai Gilmore – she raised her daughter on her terms, in her own way, and what a daughter Rory is! There’s no hero like the everyday mom, the one who creates a great life for herself and her child.

3) Linda Park-West – she lost her unborn children because of a fight between Flash and Zoom, and a later fight restored them again. During Infinite Crisis, when Wally’s about to disappear, Linda grabs the twins, and her husband, and disappears into the Speed Force with him. She is a rock, and without her, Wally wouldn’t be nearly as interesting.

4) Cordelia Chase – before a deity hijacks her body, of course! She serves as a surrogate mother to baby Connor and helps Angel raise his child. When Connor comes back, before Cordy disappears, she helps heal him, as well.

5) Fallen Angel (Lee) – She hides her child so that he won’t be swallowed by Bete Noire, only to find him come back after years in hiding. So she spends her time trying to protect him from the city, and to undo the pain and hurt done in his absence and his presence.

6) Claire Fraser – Diana Gabaldon’s character who leaves her True Love to give birth safely, and does her best to keep her daughter healthy and happy. Sometimes, this means saying goodbye.

7) Catwoman (Selina Kyle) – and finally, Selina! I considered putting Manhunter on the list, but realized I already Waxed Poetic Enough on her, and decided on Selina Kyle instead. Despite the initial problems I had with the OYL jump, I have adored everything involving Selina’s interactions with Helena.

The “Girl-Standards”: Thoughts on Those Titles We Womenfolk Might Like; or, how I recently read (and watched) a lot of Hellboy

Have I ever told you how much I adore Dark Horse Comics, Gentle Reader? I know I often point to the Two Houses, both alike in Dignity in Fair New York where we Lay Our Scene, but I feel the need to look at the Alternatives, as well. And, yes, I’ve recently read most of the Hellboy trade paperbacks, and purchased issue #1 of Buffy Season 8, and watched Hellboy: Blood and Iron, so Dark Horse has been on my mind, just a bit. But Dark Horse, overall, provides a nice alternative to The Big Two, particularly in that they seem dedicated to fostering new, creator-owned talent.

Mike Mignola’s Hellboy is nothing short of genius, it’s true, but what I find Very Interesting is that it is often touted as one of the Girl-Friendly Comics About In The World. I find these lists, these “How to Get Your Girlfriend/Girl Best Friend/Wife to Read Comic Books” lists to be A Bit Odd. Mr. Reads often crows over his triumphant role in my re-indoctrination into the world of superhero comics, but it must be said, Friends, that I’ve read comics, off and on, for 20+ years. I had Lost Sight of Superhero comics sometime around the time my Wonder Woman underoos started to get a bit snug, but I had my college-years graphic novel reading to fill in the meantime: Sandman, Ghost World, Squee, The Dreaming, The Crow.

You know.

Girl-Standards.

What is it about the Comic Book Audience that, while sometimes Quite Proud of its predominantly-male community, is seemingly so determined to establish a so-called "Girl-Friendly" Canon? And what is it about titles like Sandman, Fables, Y the Last Man, and yes, Hellboy, that some readers are so convinced will help introduce womenfolk to these books-with-pictures? And, the really big question here, why do some readers/writers/etc. not understand why some women feel excluded from the comic book community, but yet remain committed to sharing their comic book love with their sisters/girlfriends/girl-friends/wives?

I find myself working this backwards, in some way, in that I am the only one of my Girl-friends who reads comic books. In fact, at a recent evening at a Dear Friend’s House, I spent most of the night chatting Captain America’s untimely demise, and Marvel’s Civil War Crisis, with said Dear Friend’s Husband. Said Dear Friend (who is, undeniably, Quite Dear Indeed!) appreciates our, well, appreciation for comics, but doesn’t, personally, like the medium.

Some of my Girl-friends have ventured Graphic Novel Way—Persepolis, Veils, Box Office Poison—but few, if any, have ever read Superhero Titles. No Tights and Flights, no Capes, no Sonic Cries, no Amazons Attacking, or Villains Uniting, or Secret Wars, well, Secreting. Yet my Girl-friends tell me, again and again, that they find the Blogosphere’s Feminist Discussions of Comic Books Intriguing and, it seems, Enticing.

So believe me when I say that I understand this need to share a love, a fandom, a (Mary) Marvel. I know how it feels to want my friends and family to like and enjoy the very things I enjoy, to want to be able to discuss these things that are, in truth, Very Important to me. But when I attempt to entice my Girl-friends over Comic Book Way, I turn to titles like Fallen Angel, or Birds of Prey, or Wonder Woman, and rarely, very rarely, Sandman, or JtHM, or The Crow.

So I began to wonder: why, then, are these titles considered to be Girl-Standards? What is it about Sandman, or Fables, that seems more “female-friendly,” than, say, the Birds of Prey, or Catwoman? Specifically, I began to wonder why a title like Hellboy, almost overwhelmingly male in its choice of characters, and almost always female in its choice of villains, is considered so very “girl-friendly.” I don’t have A Definitive Answer, Friends, but I have some thoughts, Hellboy-specific.

1) Hellboy Tells Stories.
It’s a title almost solely dedicated to the spinning of yarns, the telling of tales. When you read Hellboy, you not only get action, particularly of the beat-em-up shoot-em-up variety, you get a great story, as well. These stories are also heavily influenced by somewhat familiar histories and mythologies, so there is never the feeling that one needs to catch-up if one hasn’t been reading since The Dawn Of Time. Even in The Big Two’s stand-alone titles are references to other heroes, or stories, or crises, and if one hasn’t been reading *this* title since the mid-80s, or *that* title since 1947, one probably will have no idea who X character is, or why he or she should even care.

2) Hellboy Doesn’t Believe In Essentialism.
Hellboy, the character, is a demon. From Hell. But because of love and nurturing and free will and, in no small part, pancakes, he denies what so many assume to be his Natural Self, his Destiny, his Born Purpose to do and be what *he* wants. Women so often suffer under Essentialist Expectations. That is to say, so many in our society, and in societies long past, believe that because a woman has a uterus, or 2 x-chromosomes, or breasts, or 2 eyes and a mouth, then she must be weak/maternal/sneaky/sexy/super-skinny/catty/etc. Hellboy belies that very idea of essentialism—that we Are What We Are and That’s That—and the entire series is based on this very thing.

3) The Evil In Hellboy Is Often Old-School.
So very often in this title, Those That Commit Evil are often Those From An Older Time. Nazis, Old World Vampires or Witches, people, monsters, or things that try to bring the world back to The Way It Was Before (whatever time that was, Gentle Reader!) are The Bad Guys. Hellboy and the Bureau are about promoting change in the world. They look forwards, not backwards, and are not frightened by new ideas but by old ones. In This Humble Author’s Very Humble Opinion, old ideas are often the scariest because old ideas are often the ones rooted in oppression.

4) Hellboy Is About Equal-Opportunity Chivalry And Challenge.
Hellboy, the character, doesn’t try to save women, specifically, nor does he coddle evil just because that particular evil in that particular story happens to be female. Instead, lines are drawn between Good and Evil, not Men and Women.

5) Hellboy Is Just Good. Period.
This is a point I Can’t Stress Enough, Gentle Reader! The Comic Book Industry shouldn’t have to ask for a female audience, nor should it mollycoddle its female audience. It needs to offer great stories, with interesting and complex characters that women can relate to. Yes, sometimes that character is a woman, but sometimes that character is a man.

Or a boy.

A Hell-Boy, even.