Her Breasts Were Too Small: Why A Dose of Feminism is Good for Writers
What is a female character?
Serious question — and too easily misunderstood. Let's be naive for a minute: if my protagonist is meant to represent a male human being, and he meets another character meant to represent a female human being, what does it mean to "sexualize" these characters, and how do I show that they are masculine or feminine in their behaviors? Do I even need to? Have I thought this through?
I tried to impress a friend once by saying that every good male writer of psychologically interesting fiction must be a feminist today. My argument was that even if you can't stand actual women, even if your last girlfriend was a cheat and a bore and everything else, you can't possibly create interesting "women" characters unless you understand why so many women call themselves feminists.
My friend was politely impressed, but pointed out that I hadn't bothered to explain what I meant by "feminism" and so I could really be talking about some very different things. Then we ordered pizza and moved on.
So this is a reprise. I want to continue that conversation. I've been accused of typically laddish sexism by some, of aggressive feminism by others, of pointless intellectual games by a couple of those who know me well, and, most interestingly, of only being a feminist when there are no other feminists around. All of this makes me think that I need to think through my relationship with that difficult word: Woman. As someone who was put here by a woman, and who has a sister, and who dates women, and who could one day have a little girl — and, especially, as a writer who doesn't want his fiction to speak to just one side of the gym.
Leave the stereotypes at the doors, pretty-please.
It's not about hairy lesbians wanting to scream at men and burn some bras. It's not about high-power business bitches who want to prove they're just as good as their male colleagues. Those stereotypes are particularly boring to writers, I would hope, since they come readymade and have little to say about actual human beings.
What does it mean for a male writer to "create" a female character, a patchwork of concepts and behaviors quilted together by the word "woman"? To be crude: characters don't have "real" vaginas or penises. You can't scientifically distinguish between men and women in fiction by asking the characters to show you their genitals. And that's a problem, intellectually, in the craft of writing. Every time you create a male character, you are, however subtly and however consciously, telling us that he is not a female character. And in all likelihood, since you can't just give him a penis, you're going to have to try to show his masculinity, his "typically male" behavior, through his actions. You may end up following the commonsense advice that everyone loves to give: show, don't tell. Show us your character, John, being a man among all the other things he is meant to be. At this point, you've already made a commitment.
You often hear about men who "just can't do female characters" — for whatever reason, the argument often goes, these female characters don't ring true. They rely too much on stereotypes, on the bitterness or the idealism of their creators, on how horny the author happened to be while writing the book.
At the other extreme, "chick lit" is meant to speak to women directly. Usually written by women for women, it's supposedly a way for female authors to write about their experiences without having to put on their writer's makeup, without having to clean up the image of women in general. From what little I've read in this genre (the Bridget Jones books and a couple of Shopaholic titles), I get the impression that there's still something weirdly shameful about being a woman in these books — always worrying about your weight, always trying to find Mr Right (or Mr Right Now! Tee-hee!) and so on.
The underlying assumption is pretty easy to detect. There's this particularity to the feminine, this uniqueness of experience, whether fundamental or just… because, man, that makes it incredibly difficult to capture the feminine in the kind of fiction being written today.
I will avoid going into the highly critical-theoretical controversies that academics love to get into. Not because the debates aren't interesting, but because they require an enormous familiarity with the jargon of critical theory, and because I don't think a writer should have to keep all these debates in mind at every step. That often leads to weak and overly brainy fiction, or at least to a kind of dryness that probably won't sell your first novel. If you do want to read some interesting texts on how language and storytelling can influence how gender roles function, I'll list some good books at the end.
What can we make of the underlying assumption I mentioned above — that there is something particular about the feminine experience (and presumably about the masculine experience as well)? It's important just to think about this assumption — because according to some people, scattered across different social classes and groups, we're born into a body (a physical body) and we experience the world through the eyes we're given, and that's that. If we are able to bear children through our anatomy, then it is considered normal that we have a duty we don't share with men, who can't get pregnant. And so on. Others will tell you that we're born into a very different kind of body: a social body, a community — and our sense of who we are is determined in large part by how we are taught to see ourselves by our community. In this view, if a girl behaves femininely, it isn't only because she has "innately feminine" qualities. It's because she has, over the years, learned how to behave according to the expectations of others.
Are we born sexed or are we given a forced choice of sexual "nature"?
I'm arguing for neither position here. In fact I've simplified things to a point where you could just say I'm talking about the nature-nurture problem in psychology. But remember that we're talking about writing — if I'm a man, and I want to write fiction of a certain quality involving female characters, shouldn't I keep these questions in mind at least some of the time? Take the suspense genre. Shouldn't I ask myself, when I introduce my third femme fatale into a hardboiled novel, why I still need to make her both dangerous and gorgeous? Is there a reason I need a femme fatale at all? Does the fact that James Bond gets all the hot babes reflect something more than his effortless charm? If I created a female James Bond-type character and she slept with a couple of hot dangerous guys in every story — would I think less of her? Would I want to tell the story from the perspective of one of the hot dangerous guys instead? Why?
I once created tension (without wanting to) among a group of otherwise quite progressive people by asserting, very seriously, that I would love to see a black James Bond. The responses you get from declaring something like that are telling. Someone will make a face and say, "That's… interesting." Someone else will say, "I just can't imagine a black Bond." Why not? What makes Bond a great character are his qualities as a human being, right? He's brave, he's smooth, he's attractive to all the ladies, he's funny, he's strong, he's so dizzyingly "masculine" in general that young men look up to him as a role model. Where does his race come into it? It doesn't, in the qualities I've described. Race, here, is merely incidental. But the image people have of James Bond is a white image as well as a masculine one.
To go back to the question of writing —
... and remember that it's often at the level of composition that we can really change things, culturally — what would it mean for you to create a female Bond, or a black Bond? You might have no problem with it; but most likely you, like anyone else, have some kind of assumptions running at the back of your mind when you think of James Bond, or of any famous character, or even any archetype at all.
The transformative power of fiction is real, but it's often expressed in sentimental language. When I read a book that transforms me, I am transformed because I am jolted out of the comfortable little bed of prejudices I was given and I realize that it's not so bad sleeping on the floor for a while. And nowadays, when the question of the gap between genders is pressing and exceptionally fraught, I not-so-humbly urge writers to think through the basics that are not taught by how-to columns on writing. You can write a good thriller by following the advice of the pros, of course, but you can write an even better book if you break out of the givens of life: whichever side of the debate you end up on, whether you think we're biologically programmed to behave like men and women, or you think we're all just following codes and behaving as we were taught to behave from a young age, your fiction will surely gain psychological depth if you can think through some of these issues. Otherwise, you could end up being that guy who always writes women characters as if he hasn't had sex in five years, or you could end up that woman who is quite honestly convinced that all men are bastards and whose male characters are all greedy disappointing bastards. See how I stereotype? Nobody wants to be that guy, that gal. Stereotypes have the power to forge allegiances to characters before we've even had a chance to see them doing anything of importance.
When I half-unthinkingly said that you can't be a serious male writer without being a feminist today, I wasn't joking but I wasn't completely serious at a literal level. What's important in that little bit of provocation is the emphasis on the writer taking the idea of otherness more seriously. While some will argue we're too obsessed with otherness at the moment, in the academies and in political discourse, I still maintain the best psychological portraits in literature are those that manage to get you thinking about the person being described in their individuality above anything else. If I start writing a story about a woman, and constantly draw attention to how well I know women by talking about specifically "feminine" problems, I'm probably not going to do very well. Probably — there will be exceptions. But the likelihood is that I'm going to end up nauseating my readers, whose responses will vary from the impatient (why the fuck does this guy want to impress me with his knowledge of women so badly?) to the amused (does he really think all a woman thinks about is X or Y?) to the outraged (how dare he imply that she did this morally questionable thing because of her specifically feminine insecurity?).
What can breasts tell us about an author?
Haruki Murakami's 1Q84 made me laugh in despair whenever it was clear that Murakami was converting his sexual frustration into "feminine understanding" — look at this example. Women usually have breasts, so Murakami does this kind of thing all the time — get ready for an onslaught:
Tamaki was small and a bit plump with large breasts. Aomame was taller, lean and muscular, with smaller breasts.
and
She was a pro, virtually perfect. If only her breasts were a little bigger, she thought with a twinge, she might have been truly perfect. A partial frown. But hell, you've gotta work with what you've got.
and
She had a slender build, in proportion to which her full breasts could not help but attract attention. They were beautifully shaped.
and
"I know you're thinking my breasts are small," she said coldly as she looked down at him in her underwear. "You came through with a good-sized cock and all you get in return is these puny things. I bet you feel cheated."
and
She looked around, stared at her palms, inspected the shape of her fingernails, and grabbed her breasts through her shirt to check the shape. No change. Same size and shape. I'm still the same me.
and
By no means fat, the woman was round everywhere, including her face, which radiated a truly friendly warmth, and she had big breasts.
and
Her body shape had not disintegrated, and even her breasts had a degree of firmness.
and
Not that she was thrilled at the sight of her own body. Quite the opposite. Her breasts were not big enough, and they were asymmetrical.
and
"Don't you think my breasts are too big?" she asked Aomame. "Not at all. They're beautiful."
and
"I'm sure he hadn't seen very many. Yours are ordinary. Mine are too small."
"No, I like your breasts. They're very elegantly shaped, and they give this intellectual impression."
and
… wearing the familiar tight-fitting summer sweater that showed off her breasts so beautifully (taken, no doubt, at the time of the press conference.)
and
… tight-fitting sweater that showed off the lovely shape of her breasts.
and
In his memory, Aomame remained a skinny little girl without breasts, but he was able to to bring himself to ejaculation with the thought of her in gym clothes.
and
… a natural curiosity, a positive attitude, a talent for interesting conversation, large breasts that attracted attention.
and
Strangely enough, the one thing that Aomame felt she did not want to lose was her rather sad little breasts. From the age of twelve, she had lived with an unwavering dissatisfaction with regard to the shape and size of her breasts. It often occurred to her that she might have been able to live a far more serene life if only her breasts had been a little larger…
and
She touched her breasts through her tank top. They were the same breasts as always, shaped like two lumps of dough that had failed to rise…
and
Aside from size of her breasts, she was, if anything, proud of her body.
and
Her breasts were startlingly large and firm for a girl with such a slim body.
and
Her breasts were perfect hemispheres. Her nipples were not overly large, and they were soft…
and
Her perfect breasts were there in front of him, moved with calm, regular breath.
I'm cherry-picking. But notice that whenever the "she" in the subject is looking at breasts or thinking about them, they're her own, and she's judging herself — too big, too small? When there's a "he", however, it's immediately sexualized. Is Murakami drawing attention to the difference in the role that the female breast plays in men's and women's inner lives? That's not the impression I get. From what I can see, Murakami thinks that because he's writing from a woman's perspective half the time, he's being "delicate" and "understanding" by showing us that he gets it! Women are insecure sometimes! Women have problems with body image!
By the 600th page of noticing this shit, you end up wondering what the hell he's thinking. As a human being reading this, I'm not impressed by the attention to the female character's body — I am bored by it. I'm even kind of weirded out by it.
I have no idea about Murakami as a regular dude, but from reading 1Q84 I get the impression he's more interested in the fetishistic practice of writing about a woman than in just getting over the exotic gap between men and women to write something of psychological substance. Any made-for-TV movie about a young insecure woman can generate sympathy from sections of its audience by appealing to the knowledge we all have of the pressures that come with adolescence, the countless demands made of the female body in society, and so on. Why not try to think further — to wonder about where it is that men and women are irreconcilable at the level of experience, to ask questions about what is most important and what is most ridiculous in modern conceptions of gender politics, and so on? You don't need to read Lacan and his feminist critics to see how interesting and crucial these debates are.
You don't even need to like anyone.
You can be the most miserable curmudgeon in the universe and think nobody could live up to the ideals you hold of people. That doesn't have to mean your own writing should reflect the banality of common sense and popular stereotypes. Not just because it's harmful to some people — but also because, often, fiction written by people who don't give a damn about these issues (even on a purely instinctual and unarticulated level) is really, really boring.
Column by Phil Jourdan
Phil Jourdan is the author of Praise of Motherhood (Zero Books), and John Gardner: A Tiny Eulogy (Punctum Books). He is working on a PhD in Comparative Literature, and fronts the lit-rock band, Paris and the Hiltons. His website is SLOTHROP.
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I've been waiting for this - and I am not disappointed! Excellent column, although I was somewhat creeped out by the twenty some odd breast quotes. I like your thinking here.
This was excellent. The heart of a character lies not in their genitalia. Breasts don’t make a woman any more than they would make a man.
Though I agree that feminism and the role of women in the culture and in media (fiction especially) is a serious and important one, I think this aarticle may be overthinking things a bit.
Before I go on, I'd like to make something clear: I do consider myself to be a feminist and as a result, usually find myself appalled by the treatment of women in fiction (like the shameful DC Comics relaunch debacle), and even more so by men who burn through a hell of a lot of calories trying to defend the sexist status quo.
(discussions like this always remind me of this joke: "How can you tell if a feminist finds something to be offensive?"
"Ask her.")
That said, any decent writer avoids stereotypes of all kinds, unless they're consciously trying to dissect and examine them. Stereotypes, be they sex, gender, race, age, or sexual orientation are lazy writing.
A good author understands their characters, feels like their characters, and pains for the fates of even their most dispicable creations. That's the only way anyone can write a believable character. Understanding them includes things like race, gender, socio-economics, personal experiences, etc, but the second an author starts out saying "I'm going to write a female/black/gay/white/straight/male character", they've already lost the game. Creation should be about who the character is, and not what the character is.
There are a lot of well-known authors that are terrible at writing female characters. In my experience, though, their male characters aren't prizes either. A writer who is lazy in one area is probably lazy in many other areas as well.
"A good author understands their characters, feels like their characters, and pains for the fates of even their most dispicable creations. That's the only way anyone can write a believable character. Understanding them includes things like race, gender, socio-economics, personal experiences, etc, but the second an author starts out saying "I'm going to write a female/black/gay/white/straight/male character", they've already lost the game. Creation should be about who the character is, and not what the character is."
Well put. If you are defining your character based on external characteristics, then you aren't creating a character, you're creating a caricature. Good characters are written from the inside out, not the outside in.
Wow. That is a lot of quotes about boobs.
I just read an article in Entertainment Weekly by this woman who said she would rather her sixteen year old daughter think of Lisbeth Salander from The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo as a role model than the hipster chick Zooey Deschannel from New Girl because she acts so stupid in that show. It's interesting the diversity among young women and the role models they have today.
Think of young girls who look to the Kardashian women as role models versus a girl who maybe reads comic books or likes women who are action hero types and take no prisoners. I have to agree with the mother, even though the Lisbeth character is fairly goth and seems a little manic depressive. If I had a daughter, I would want her to be more thoughtful and explore her dark side instead of being a vapid party girl. The Britney Spears, Lady Gagas, Kardashian women use their sexuality as their role means of purpose and existence. What is Britney Spears but a walking commercial for "being a blonde is just so neato!" The Kardashians tell women, "Hey, I'm an independant woman, which means I'm wealthy, I can marry a guy and divorce him 72 hours later because nothing means anything to me except boob jobs and fashion". Lady Gaga says be yourself, be different but she tries SO HARD. She is like the female Marilyn Manson but her lyrics have no depth, at least Manson was trying to make a statement about religion and politics in his music. Gaga wants to ride a disco stick.
We had a debate in the forums about this awhile ago about if men could write women realistically. A lot of men can't. I have even been guilty of writing exaggerated female stereotypes because I grew up watching "divas" and my mother was a strong willed woman with a hot temper. I enjoy the Heather Locklear, Erica Kane sort of aggressive, borderline sociopathic women but that is not to confuse it with narcisstic women who follow the Scarlett O'Hara mode of entitlement. Think of women in soap operas for example, they are usually either a. the diva-bitch b. the stalker sociopath c. the needy vulnerable love interest or d. the motherly kind one who is all flowers and light. Men need to understand that women can be all these things. A woman can be a bitch but it doesn't make her a bitch, she can be promiscous without being a slut and a woman can have dark moments of depression without being a psychopath. I think the core failure of men understanding women is that they fixate on the physical for one, second they lock them into a personality based on moods. The fallacy of this is men hide their emotions while women are more open with them so it isn't fair to judge someone by their honesty when you can't even be completely open about who you are. Also, Murakami is a chode.
I think all men should try writing as women at one point in their writing career and not just so they can live out vicarious lesbian fantasies through them. Just as all women should try writing about men realistically. I know some writers on these forums who do a great job at that. Sex just isn't about penetration. It's about politics and emotions and gender. Men need to allow themselves to be more vulnerable in their writing and not always put up a bravado of tough guy noir. Otherwise we are all just writing fiction that doesn't reflect the human condition but perpetuates the same tired old stereotypes.
I love the quote that compares breast size and cock-size as a measure of what the characters are worth in that setting.
When a girl says it's a good size, it's a nice way of saying it's small.
-mallrats
Mallrats quote makes me happy.
Not sure how I feel about all the Murakami bashing, here. Sure, he seems a bit breast obsessed when you lump all those examples together, but those are 20 sentences out of a 950 page novel. It wasn't something that bothered me as I was reading.
I've also read a bunch of complaints about the "creepy" nature of 1Q84's sex scenes in general, specifically one involving 17 year old Fuka-Eri. Again, this wasn't an issue for me. I found the sex in 1Q84 to be matter-of-fact and clinical. Personally, I feel most sex scenes written by male authors contain an element of sexual fantasy, unless that is just me projecting my fantasies onto the writing. Either way, I find it to be unavoidable, but I feel Murakami did a decent job keeping it to a minimum.
Phil, you say that you "have no idea about Murakami as a regular dude," yet you still assert that "it was clear that Murakami was converting his sexual frustration into 'feminine understanding.'" First of all, what does that sentence even mean? He's sexually frustrated because he writes about breasts? That statement is assumptive at best, and borders on pseudo psychology. 1Q84 is the only Murakami novel I have read. Is there a similar breast obsession in all of his work? If not, I find that accusation baseless. Because aside from having a preoccupation with her own breasts, which may in fact just be Murakami's preoccupation, the character of Aomame is a complex one, and most definitely not a female stereotype, or a stereotype of male fantasy.
Aliensoul, I agree with you that Lisbeth Salander is probably a better role model for young women than Snooki or The Kardashians, but guess what? Stieg Larsson, who has been positioned by some as a feminist, and whose novels contain statistics on violence against women, did the same exact thing as Murakami. In The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, Salander expresses dissatisfaction with her breast size numerous times, and even goes as far as getting a breast augmentation. It is something that she justifies to herself and the reader more than once. Why did Larsson feel the need to include this? Is it part of the complexity of her character? Or can we infer that Larsson was a horny old man who was obsessed with big tits?
So I feel it is unfair to single out Murakami on this. It's no secret men like breasts. It's a fucking scientific fact. Yes, it sometimes affects a man's ability to successfully write a believable female character, but that doesn't mean we have to go looking sexism that isn't there.
I wouldn't call this "Murakami-bashing" — I don't have any particular gripes with Murakami's writing. And I don't think Murakami is being sexist, either. If you want to accuse me of making unfounded accusations, then, yeah, let's make that a universal criterion.
If you didn't find the constant drawing of attention to Aomame's breasts disconcerting, then you probably had a better reading experience than I did. That's great, but it doesn't change the creep-factor for me. It's not about Murakami's sexism; I simply don't think the sexism is there. It's about the "pseudo psychology", as you call it, involved in making Aomame into a falsely complex character.
And for the record, the word "sexism" doesn't appear in my article except for when I mention that I myself am sometimes accused of it. I have no interest in talking about sexism. Surprising though it may be, not all articles about feminism need to be reduced to an argument on sexism.
Well, maybe sexism wasn't the best choice of words in that last sentence, even though it can be defined as "attitudes or behavior based on traditional stereotypes of sexual roles," which you talk about quite a bit in the article. Sexism isn't just woman bashing, it's also a misunderstanding and misrepresentation of the feminine, which you do accuse Murakami of. So in that respect, this article is kind of an argument on sexism, at least in part.
I have in no way accused anyone of misrepresenting the feminine, either. If anything, I have questioned the very idea of "representing the feminine" in the first place. Defining sexism in a particular way to support a minor point isn't going to change the point of the article — which isn't about Murakami, but more broadly about this idea of sexual roles in general.
Fair enough. I think you're splitting hairs for the sake of your argument, and I don't want to get into an endless back and forth about the intention of the piece, so one last thing: I understand the article isn't about Murakami. But he is your only example of a feminine character being poorly handled by a male author, or whatever you want to summarize said point as. So why spend such a large portion of the article on him and his "sexual frustration?" Making assumptions about his psychology based on his description of the female body borders on ad hominem. Your point would have been better served if you had used more than one author as example.
Also, you can't invalidate my whole point because you objected to my use of the term sexism and turned that into an accusation of me accusing you of making accusations. I'm puzzled that you are taking the position that this article has absolutely nothing to do with gender politics, because it kind does.
So what, exactly, is your issue with anything at all again? That I happen not to be impressed with Murakami's writing, and I'm not being representative enough, I'm not using other authors as examples? Is that it? What am I missing? It just feels to me like you're taking what I say about Murakami on a personal level. If you aren't, then what's the problem?
Rhetorical questions are not an argument. I feel like I've made my point(s) and if I continued I'd only be reiterating what I've already said. Also, I feel like this discussion wouldn't have veered off so sharply if I had just lopped off the last paragraph of my initial comment. Anyone else want to chime in?
I thought the article was well written and clinical. I'm going to sit on the fence and say that I don't believe Phil made any accusations Murakami however more examples from different writers would have strengthened the piece. Personally, It has given me a few things to watch out for in my own work.
Phil, I thought your article was pretty good up to the point where you unloaded on Murakami. How do we portray "the other"? How do we show the "irreconcilalbles" between men and women without resorting to cliches? Right on! Good questions.
But I read 1Q84 and those breast quotes you lined up are a red herring. Actually he did create a sort of female James Bond in Aomame. She's taking down big time villainous types by way of spycraft and she's got a connoisseur's appetite for what floats her boat which includes not only guys with receding hairlines but female cops with big breasts. And what's the big deal if he mentions characters' breasts numerous times? Far from being offended, I was amused by it: So this is the great Murakami, I thought to myself, a breast man if ever there was one.
Lighten up!
Going back to what Alien said, I think one of the issues I have in general is the idea that girls will naturally look up to a certain 'type' of female and will be boxed in by that. They will be Kardashian girls, or Salander girls, or what have you. And by saying that alone, you are putting us in boxes and asking us to categorize ourselves. I hear about this type of thing a lot. Young female role models. I hear of less boxes for men.
I have never had a conversation about whether or not I want my son to be a Justin Timberlake or a James Bond, or a ... I can't even think of a third one...because this is so out there. If you think about all the boxes we try to fit women in, it is astounding. Are we, the girl next door? Betty, or Veronica? Ginger or Mary Ann? Or is she just a bitch? Which could lead me on to the topic of why so many curse words are gender specific, and to which gender they point to, but I won't go there. Today.
I think the essence of writing a realistic woman (characters in general?) is in your ability to not fence them in with stereotypes.
I'd rather be a Jughead than an Archie or Reggie. 2nd choice would be Moose. Him and Midge got a real good thing going.
(This is somewhat related to what averydoll said, and I think it reiterates one of Phil's points:)
Isn't anyone who debates whether girls or women of such-and-such type can or should be portrayed such-and-such a way already displaying a biased view (not necessarily unreasonable) by knowing the type, by already having an image to be either challenged or reinforced?
And couldn't a more generalized version of that same question be applied more broadly to the sexes themselves?
There are differences between men and women, but people may disagree about some of the specifics, just as there are differences between this emo kid and that emo kid, but people may disagree about some of the specifics.
But the main point is about writing, right? Yes, cliches usually suck, even when they bear no resemblance to reality in all its complexity. But sometimes simple is good.
Great article on some things taken without enough thought. I have to admit, I love Richard Laymon's writing. When I first discovered Laymon (years after he passed away) I read a short story and thought, "That was a sexier story," for the horror genre. Then I read another Laymon story with another detailed description of the female protagonist as she undressed. I recalled this tactic from the other story. I read my first Laymon novel (The Midnight Tour) and every third chapter - no kidding, no exaggeration - had a description of one of the female characters' bodies as she dressed, undressed, or had her clothes pressed to her body by sweat or water. I read my second Laymon novel (Blood Games), which features five strong female characters...each of which Laymon had to describe as she dressed, or undressed, or how her swimsuit pressed to her body. And I've continued to read Laymon for his great building of suspense and unusual sideways approaches to familiar plots - and I've continued to encounter this pattern of detailed descriptions of the various states of dress and/or undress FOR THE FEMALE CHARACTERS ONLY. I cynically think to myself that maybe Laymon was using a tactic to keep his reader's attention. But in every single short story and novel? I continue to read through Laymon's incredible body of 30+ novels and dozens of short stories, but each time I come to this dependable-as-the-clock characteristic of Laymon's encyclopedic description of his female character's dressing/undressing it intrudes on the spell Laymon was creating in his writing. It begins to feel like self-parody. It begins to feel like we the audience have to attend some group therapy session with Laymon each time we sit to read his work. And, as much as I love Laymon's body of work I think of what a great thing it would be if some editor created an abridged version of Laymon's writing with all the sexual hang-ups expurgiated....
I'll be returning to reread this article and recommending it to friends...
Phil,
You did an amazing job writing this and it really made me think of how I portray my characters in my writing. There are some characters that I describe with a quick stereotype because they have a very small role in the work and there are others that I spend the entire novel working with. I do gender cast my characters though. I write fanstasy/military/horror/dark humor and women never really come out on top unless they are A) protected by a man or B) cunning enough to double cross the man who is protecting them. Perhaps it is time to give women more strength and see how it plays out. Once again, very intriguing article.
*So it's early where I am, and I've just realized after writing this that this is a 'cold column'. I still find these thoughts valid, so here you go.*
I'm currently writing one of the first pieces I've ever done focusing on a male protagonist-- and find myself asking a lot of these gender questions. I've had to ask myself several times, Is this a stereotype? Am I trying too hard to think like a man? How can I portray this guy fairly without seeming like I'm just "covering the basics"? I hadn't even realized that I write primairly from the female perspective until trying to tackle this story. At one point, I wrote this lovely bit:
"She’d said, “Rob kept everything in the garage, go ahead and look back there for the wrench or whatever it is you need”
Dean found a tackle box, a CB radio, and a stack of Playboys.
Now when he opened the garage door he revealed a sturdy workbench crowned with a pegboard storage fixture, two large tool boxes, sawhorses, and a circular saw. It looked like a man lived in the house."
-and I felt like I realy missed something (okay, fine, a lot of things). The laundry list of items didn't seem to say much at all. A few of them were necessary for exposition's sake, but for the most part I just groped for stuff that seemed masculine in nature and threw everything in there. I wish I could say my character was intended to have some insecurities with his manliness, but not so much.
So basically, my opinion is this: Writing is hard, but worth it. Writing from another gender's POV is even harder. We should try to represent people as people first, then as their sex. However, I will maintain that some people do fit some stereotypes (although not completely), and some dudes I know really do store their porn in their garages.
One more thing: What do you think it says about someone who repeatedly portrays their own gender in an overtly masculine or feminine fashion?