Problematic Badass Female Tropes
An overview of my PBFTs, which will be your new Wednesday series.
Introduction
The queen was dying. There was no way around it; both the skilled doctors and the quacks across the kingdom failed in their attempts at healing her illness, till at last she lay on her deathbed, breathing her last breaths. To the king, she said these last words:
“Promise you shall not remarry unless it be to a woman more beautiful and more intelligent than me.”
The king knew very well it would be impossible to find such a woman, but he promised her. And thus, she died.
Years passed, and though the king’s subjects were worried that there was still no new queen, yet they knew their king’s promise, and so remained queenless. Until, the king’s daughter came of age. Being the daughter of the king and the dead queen, she was possessed of an intelligence and curiosity more than the queen’s alone. And now that she was becoming a young woman, she was indeed more beautiful. And so the king’s promise became a curse.
The king, to the horror of his courtiers, set the date for his wedding to his daughter. She knew she couldn't openly defy her father, and yet was determined to escape the terror of such a union. So she requested that her father get her a dress golden as the very sun. She would not marry unless wearing this dress. She thought such a task would be impossible, and therefore she'd stay safe. But he was determined, and resourceful, and she got the golden dress soon after. She then requested a dress the color of the very moon, hoping this task would be more difficult than the first. But, lo, a mere day later, was delivered to her the moon-silver dress. And so she requested a dress that looked like the very stars in the sky, with the same result. Finally, the wedding date was nigh, and so she demanded a cloak made from the skin of every furred animal in existence. Surely this cloak would be impossible to make.
But the princess’ godmother, the dead queen’s sister, was a magical woman, and, so commanded, she got the cloak made. But, she knew what fate was in store for the poor princess after this success, so that night, late, the godmother snuck into the princess’ room. She gave her a magical nutshell, into which all three of the magic dresses fit. Then she threw the many-furred cloak over the princess, and urged: “Run. Run far away, escape this cursed place and cursed bed.” And so the princess did.
She ran long and far, surviving as best she could, until she came upon the castle of a kingdom far from her home. She was so skinny, dirty, and hunched over in her cloak of patched furs, that everyone wrinkled their noses in disgust at such a creature. She was taken in by the castle kitchen, however, where she scrubbed pots and hauled out ashes from the kitchen fires. She didn't talk hardly at all, and wouldn't give a name, and so they called her Patches, and that was how she lived for some time.
It came to pass that the monarchs of this kingdom held a grand dance, a ball that would take place across three nights, and the kitchen was whipped into a frenzy getting all the preparations ready. The first night, late, when the kitchen paused, Patches snuck away. She washed up, put on her dress gold as the sun, and entered the dance. The young Prince was enchanted by her beauty, and dazzled by the magical dress, and he asked her to dance. Once they did, and he talked to her, he realized that not only was she beautiful, but witty and wise as well. He didn't leave her side the rest of the dance. Very late, Patches snuck away from the party, took off her sun dress, put on her patched furs, and rags, and retreated back to her grungy kitchen corner.
The next night, the second night of the ball, she put on her moon-silver dress, and again attended, the Prince never leaving her side. He kept trying to get her to tell him who she was, what was her name, but she'd only laugh and deflect his questions. And again, she snuck off without a trace, to become Patches again. The third night, she put on the dress of stars, and danced all night with the Prince. He gave her a gold ring, and begged her to tell him who she was, for he would marry her. She was afraid, however, that her father would find her if she gave the Prince her name, and so she remained mute on the subject. She was barely able to sneak away that night, and she still had the prince’s ring.
After the appearance and disappearance of the mysterious witty beauty, the Prince fell deathly ill of love. Nothing would make him well again, and after a mere two weeks, his life was despaired of. News of this was brought back to the kitchen, where Patches asked the cook if she could make the Prince a special soup she knew of, to make him well again. The cook wrinkled his nose and shrugged. They'd try anything to save the Prince’s life, even letting dirty little Patches handle his food.
So Patches made the soup, and dropped the ring into the bowl. The Prince feebly ate the soup (which was delicious), and found the ring in the bottom of the bowl. He perked up immediately. “Who made this soup?!” he demanded of the servant. And the cook was brought before the Prince.
“I made the soup, Your Highness,” the cook said, because he wanted to claim its healing powers as his own.
“No, you didn't,” the Prince said. “Tell me who.”
And so Patches was sent for. She put on the dress of stars before she came, and covered it and her soot-smudged face with the fur cloak. “Did you make this soup?” the Prince asked the shuffling, patchy creature before him. Patches nodded.
“Where did you get this ring?” he asked.
“From him that gave it me,” she whispered.
“Ah!” he said, “If that's so, then I will marry you!”
The servants in attendance laughed—marry shabby Patches? But then the princess straightened, and threw aside the cloak of many furs, and stood there in the dress of stars. The Prince embraced her, even though her face still had a little soot, and her fingernails had dirt under them.
And they lived happily ever after.
This old tale has been told in various ways by various storytellers since before written history. Sometimes she's called Donkeyskin, as in Perrault, sometimes Cap o’Rushes, sometimes she’s a Goose Girl instead of a scullery maid. Sometimes the threat of incest is eradicated, or lightened to mere neglectful abuse, as in the many Cinderella variants. Sometimes the ogre father is invited to the wedding, sometimes to find a tearful, forgiving reunion, sometimes to be punished for his wickedness. But there's always a dead mother, magic, and three dresses that are enchanted. And a fourth, “ugly,” cloak that covers all, to safely disguise her beauty, saving her from harm. And the resilience of a young woman that escapes a horrible situation to make her own way. And, yes, marrying a Prince and happy ever after and all that jazz.
The thing to notice, as indeed one can when one digs back into ancient stories as they were told before Disney got its big grubby hands on them, is that the female hero in this tale takes control of her situation.* She has magical help, sure, but Someday My Prince Will Come ain't in this girl’s vocabulary. And when we look at some variants of this story, like “East of the Sun, West of the Moon,” or a lovely Spanish version called “Florecita and the Iron Shoes,” what we see is a young woman on a long, difficult journey, to save a young man in distress, instead of the other way around. Often the dude in distress is being held captive by the Troll Princess, who is forcing him to marry her. Distressing indeed.
*I tend to not use the word “heroine,” as a rule (with a couple exceptions, as you’ll see next week). It’s what’s called the diminutive form of the word hero. A hero is a hero, and the fact that a hero happens to be a woman should not automatically diminish her. I don’t use the word “actress” for the same reason. She’s an actor, just like her fellow male actors.
This story echoes the story of women in Hollywood, the echoes reverberating especially strong in the wake of the #metoo movement. The dead queen: the glamorous It Girl—gone, but set in permanence in our collective imagery. The lecherous king: the Harvey Weinsteins of the Hollywood system. The young starlet, with her magical equipment, bravery, and hardihood, must leave this traumatic establishment and join another one; but is the new castle, and her new Prince, any better than the castle and father-king from which she fled?
Are we telling contemporary stories of strong women like Patches anymore, or is it all the Disney version of Cinderella, or Snow White’s squeaky childish soprano wishing “Someday My Prince Will Come?”
What are the badass female characters like in today's modern world? I mean, we've come a long way, baby. Haven't we? In today’s stories, we’re much more advanced as a culture than to assume the only option for a woman’s happy ending is marriage. Our current contemporary badass female characters are much more progressive, unburdened by sexist tropes, objectification, sexualization, and systemic misogyny.
Right?
Overview
The story of Hollywood hasn’t changed: Donkeyskin still runs away from the threat of sexual assault; Catherine, Sly Country Lass still must put herself through humiliation just for the privilege of marrying a rich and powerful man, though he does deign to acknowledge her cleverness. Does the badass (read: courageous, intelligent, strong, warriorlike) woman of today ever fully escape the lecherous king?
No, she doesn’t, especially today, and I have laid out seven tropes that illustrate this problem of the current female badass character, in today’s told and retold stories. The problem that becomes apparent here (as I’m sure you’ve noticed even in only this first folktale example), is that in today’s literature and entertainment, these strong, independent women characters we read about in old stories like Donkeyskin and clever Catherine are all too often subverted, altered, and weakened; either in subtle ways or obvious ways, especially by current pop culture and Hollywood.
So? you might be thinking. Why is this important, and why the heck should I care? Can’t I just enjoy my badass female characters without you ruining it for me with your spoilsport feminism?
Well, no.
Look, I get it. I love James Bond movies as much as the next guy—really, I do. I’ve been known, in my long-gone teenhood, to get a kick out of Disney movies even (you should hear my Ariel karaoke. No lie). But.
As a real-life badass woman being subverted daily by the culture which surrounds me, I want to bring to light the insidious changes being made to older stronger characters by these current tropes, and question what we as entertainment consumers have been taught to think of as badassery. After all, the depictions of women in our arts and culture have everything to do with how we view real women in our real lives. Our entertainment builds our social mores, enriches our lives, and even dictates the choices we make, and tastes we have.
It’s not that I’m saying none of us should be allowed to enjoy the heroics of Imperator Furiosa, Trinity, or Beatrix Kiddo. But as we enjoy them, we should make sure we have a clear view of what these Problematic Badass Female Tropes mean, what they’re doing, and how our absorption and acceptance of them affects the real life badass women all around us.
Some common sexist tropes you’ll already know well; they have been discussed in depth by feminist scholars before and in tandem with me. I have created or chosen the following seven Problematic Badass Female Tropes based on what I see as alterations or problems specifically with badasses, not female characters in general. Tropes such as the Damsel in Distress (covered thoroughly by Anita Sarkeesian in her YouTube series on Tropes vs. Women in Video Games, which then ignited into what pop culture gurus called Gamergate), the Manic Pixie Dream Girl, and etc. have lots of compelling scholarship and commentary already under robust discussion, and I recommend going further into any of them you like. You’ll also see them popping up in my series once in a while as effects of a trope or even as a sub-trope.
But these specific seven are the ones I have observed as the most insidious, as they are expressed by characters that we collectively call strong. For example: everyone touts the badassery that was the Wonder Woman character of the 2017 movie of that title. By unequivocally labeling her a badass, what nobody then notices is where the problematic aspects of her characterization come in (which I will talk about in detail in PBFT #2). And so we consume, and admire, and in some instances attempt to emulate, a character that has systemic misogyny subtly in her very structure. Her potential strength, because of this underlying skeletal problem, has been fundamentally compromised.
I have written an in-depth article detailing each of these seven tropes, all of which were first published at Writers’ HQ in the Before Times, and which I will be revising for my Wednesday paid subscribers.
But this week, for all of you, here’s the basic rundown:
The Marion Effect
I named this trope off two Marions from cinema: Maid Marion in the delightfully awful film Robin Hood, Prince Of Thieves; and Indy’s gal-pal in Raiders Of the Lost Ark. Both Marions begin as total unquestionable badasses (the former kicking Robin Hood’s ass, the latter drinking a dude under a table, fighting Nazis alongside Indy and still saving the artifact), but both switch to simpering weaklings as soon as it’s a plot point to have them become Damsels in Distress. In other words, they’re completely awesome until the male hero shows up and needs a love interest to rescue.
Wonder Woman
This trope is summed up with one question: does the sexiness of the ass preclude the badness of the ass? Director James Cameron has averred that a female character can’t (or shouldn’t) be both tough and sexy, but regular people of all genders seem to disagree with him. So then the problematic bits come twofold with this trope: either the strong, tough woman is depicted as manly and/or not hot, or sexiness is shoehorned onto a tough character, because she’s a woman.
Down the Rabbit Hole
It's fun to watch women be tortured! It’s kinda hot, amirite?
The Meaning of (His) Life
The only function of this intelligent, quirky, and otherwise interesting character is to change the male hero’s perspective, life, etc. The Manic Pixie Dream Girl is a problematic trope that has been discussed at length by feminist scholars already—she’s a version of this trope, though the MPDG isn’t always necessarily a badass.
Mother Knows Best
I’m not sure I can think of a more badass act than giving birth. Oh wait, yes I can: it’s the act of parenting itself. Toughest thing anyone can do. But even the strongest and most badass of mothers are always second-string when it comes to the male hero. Also: All Women Are Maternal. This is the stereotype that any woman, no matter how tough or strong she is, no matter what she accomplishes or survives through, is simply not a real woman unless she’s a mother. The end of Kill Bill and much of Aliens are examples of this.
One of the Guys
This is the woman character that isn’t a “real woman” because she’s pals, not lovers, with the male hero. Or she’s a part of the mostly male gang (think Anybodys in West Side Story). Or she joins the military and subsequently either is treated or in disguise as, one of the guys (Eowyn and Mulan are this, as are legendary real life pirates Anne Bonny and Mary Reade). If she becomes lovers with the male hero, that’s when she becomes a woman. And also becomes completely boring. Remember Moonlighting?
I’m Only Here For My Vagina
The only reason this character exists, and the only thing she’s good at or for, is sex. She can be a bad guy (Onatopp from Goldeneye), good guy love interest (insert your favorite here, pun intended), or a variety of disposable Bond Girl, but she’s only about the sex. Her magic superpower is her vagina, and once sex with the male hero is accomplished, she goes away, or is diminished beyond recognition (certainly beyond badassery).
There’s the common (let’s call it a sub-trope) problem, too, of a lesbian character completely changing her mind about her sexuality once she’s dominated by the male hero: I call it “Oops I’m Not Gay After All.” This is the classic trope of the powerful, independent woman who is subsumed by her inexplicable falling in love with the male hero. Pussy Galore just needed to find the right man, who then kissed her until she liked it, and the 2014 version of Irene Adler got Sher-Locked.
Now, I had a lot of fun with these tropes: it's fun to break these characters down and shine the light on the problematic parts within. But beyond the critical fun of the dissections and the storytelling, it's important to be aware of them, to be able to pinpoint them and see them clearly, because they're ingrained in us, from the systemic misogyny of our culture. They affect not only the real life badass women all around us, but all of us of any gender.
I will begin with PBFT #1 next Wednesday, for paid peeps particularly, so if you haven’t upgraded to paid, you’ll definitely want to do so for these. Doesn’t this overview make you wanna?
Here's an oldie but a goodie: Dana Scully. She's not just an FBI agent, but she's a medical doctor, too. She's a crack shot with her sidearm just like any good ol' boy. Yet, Chris Carter, in his infinite, sorry, demonic "wisdom" repeatedly has Scully raped (or otherwise personally invaded) over ten seasons, yet still presented as that "plucky girl" who stands up to the big boys.
I haven’t actually seen it, but several of my stage combat students did report that it was pretty gross, and actually recommended it as an example of the Down the Rabbit Hole trope. Sexy torture, infantilization, that whole yucky mix.