The 'Strong' Female Lead

I read this post a few days ago, and I'm just very happy about it :) Why? It's kind of like a 'my-thoughts-exactly' situation, only Derek Landy (and I guess, his 'Twitter-wife'...?) just added to it, you know, developed the idea to more sophisticated proportions that my brain couldn't do, on its own.

[INTERMISSION: Have you people read the Skulduggery Pleasant books? If you haven't, DO READ THEM. They are hilarious. So completely laugh-out-loudable. And yeah, the storylines are exciting, captivating (though admittedly, when he gets to specific fighting scenes, he loses me), and the characters, whether they're evil or not, you love 'em all. But for me, personally, they're just so funny and that's the main reason why you should read them :) ]

So anyhow.

Over the last year or so, I've noticed this certain pattern in some kinds of YA novels, the dystopian or fantasy or adventure-y type. Mind you, not all of them are like I'm going to describe, but still enough for me to make out this pattern.

Basically, there will be a leading female character. She will be a kick-butt, in-yo-face ninja type. Or she will try to be this type, for the purpose of her story. Completely tomboy. And then, added to that, she has this certain kind of 'angry' attitude - you know, she repels people, she finds it difficult to accept love, maybe she's socially awkward, she's just better at hitting people, blah blah blah. And sometimes, if you get really lucky, she's also contemptuous of all things girly, or the homebody type of female.

And I'd read this books, write up a review or whatever, and check out other people's opinions (other reviews, or just you know, ask friends who've read them), and the general view is kind of like "gutsy female lead, strong, resilient"... that kind of thing, you know?

And it really irked me. Firstly, it just annoyed me that this was the type that got all the praise. What, so now girls have to be angry and masculine in order to be deemed 'respectable' female characters? I mean, to me, those characters were highly unlikeable personally, but now they were the role models for what the perfect female character was supposed to be.

Let me just say, I am not a 'girly girl'. I think I'm developing some 'girly girl' tendencies, 'cause, well, I'm a little more conscious about what I wear, and yesh, I do like pretty clothes, though perhaps not to the extreme of my sister, or feeling that desire to fit into the trends, or.... you know, I sound really defensive. And I'm digressing. 

But what I'm trying to say is, while I'm not into makeup and shoes and giggly-gossiping and shopping and checking out guys all the time, I don't begrudge that for other girls. Well, maybe the gossiping - sometimes I try to divert the topic and if it gets serious, I do start telling them off. BUT, generally speaking, if that's what they like, why should I be holding them in contempt? They're not hurting anyone. Except with the gossiping, maybe...

ANYWAY. The point is, the point is, when these female leads that I'm talking about start dissing the 'airheads' that are fashionable or lovestruck, I just get really annoyed. No, I mean, I wouldn't, if not for the fact that I've noticed it in multiple books this year and the last. If it was just one here or there, whatever, you know? But this is a pattern. A trend. An unhealthy one. That's mostly being applauded.

So yeah, I started getting really annoyed at this developing stereotype. And then I read that post by Derek Landy, and his Twitter-wife's article (although, admittedly, some of it was lost on me, because I'm not really familiar with all the superhero movie references she makes o.o), and I was just so pleased because they highlighted this issue, in their wise way, and did it without the raging and ranting that I would have done it with, and yeah. 

One of the messages is basically:

REMOVE THE LABELS. Let female characters be female characters. 

I mean, take Bella Swan. I remember, when I was in 'Camp Anti-Twilight', this girl on SW was doing a series of rants about different aspects of Twilight. And she was doing character focused ones, and when she got to Bella... well, you can imagine how much she had to say. Everyone has a lot to say. The common criticism is that she's weak (and angsty and annoying and co-dependant and pathetic and blahdiblahblah). This girl, doing her rants, was all like 'Bella is such a disgrace, while she so readily helps around the house and blah blah, you will never find her doing something that's not all wifey/motherly, you know, like painting a fence or something....".

And, even being in Camp Anti-Twilight, I still didn't really like that argument. Yes, Bella was angsty and all that jazz, but why the need to mention she doesn't do what she calls 'guy work'? So what? My older sister doesn't do guy work. She hates working outside the house. She hates getting her hands dirty. Big deal. I don't think that makes her a disgrace to womankind. And I don't think it's a crime to be weak, either. Boys and girls both can be weak, and in the name of making 'realistic' characters, why would it be such a bad thing to have a protagonist that was 'weak' in that way? 

""Strength" is one dimensional. It's saying "women can be strong like men", NOT "women are flawed, complex, brilliant, weak LIKE MEN."

(That being said, I'm still not a fan of Twilight, but to each his/her own *shrug*)

Also, that 'stereotype' that I mentioned was developing? I'm not really against it, in the sense that like Bella-Swan types of girls, there are obviously the angry-antisocial-tomboy types of girls too. I just want to remove this notion that they are the epitome of what the perfect female character - or female - should be. 

Really, read the blog post + the article. Much more worth reading than this post, for that matter x) 

Thoughts?

Okay, just some other things...

THE BOOK THIEF TRAILER CAME OUT!!! ZOMG. ZOMG. Okay. It's awesome. 

And you know, if you were thinking of Death, according to the amazing Markus Zusak: 

"…and I will just say to all the loyal readers out there who might be wondering if Death narrates the actual film, as he does in the book:

The answer is an emphatic

YES.

...

Just as he does in the book, Death will help look after us.

And he’ll do his very best."

 

Ummm... yeah. I have my first exam (French oral) on the 23rd of October o_o Scared. I donno. Everything's so close. Talking about the Valedictory dinner and the Farewell Assembly, getting the dates for final SACs, applying for universities, getting 'life talks'... it's just overwhelming. Trying not to think about it, but it just keeps coming back :/

Peace in,

Laila

The Fall of an Empress // Gender Bender

These last few days have been ... tumultuous.

On Thursday the 15th of August, my grandmother passed away. 

It wasn't a surprise. She'd been on her last days for a while now. And truthfully, I hadn't been worried about her, but my father. My father... is really attached to his mother. I mean, really, more than any of his siblings. And I was afraid of how he'd take it.

On that night, I had just turned off my laptop, when I heard the most frightening sound ever. Of my 18 years, I had not heard my father cry once. But on that night, he wailed, and I don't think I'll ever forget it. Fathers are supposed to be the 'rocks', yeah? The foundations? Well, mine were shuddering and crumbling. When I cried, I cried for him, I think, more than anything.

My grandmother had 87 years. She had 7 kids - 13, actually, but five of them were caught between miscarriage and still birth. Her 7 kids, they made 24 kids - and there's a chance there may be more. She lived to see some of her grandkids make up to 19 great-grandchildren. She lived to see her legacy spread across the world; we have been/are in England, in Dubai, in Japan, in the US, in Australia, in Bangladesh, in France. 

At first I thought we didn't really have a connection, my grandmother and I. There was a language barrier. I mean, understood Tamil, but the words were awkward on my mouth, and every time I tried to put in effort to speak, my cousins would started their hyped up teasing: "Oh, oh, guys, come on - look, Laila's going to start speaking. This is going to be great."

So obviously, I'd instantly shut down. But I had tried to speak to my grandmother, the only other problem was, she could never hear me. I donno. Some say I have a quiet voice, but I don't think it's that quiet - in fact, my friends would tell you the contrary. But my grandmother, no matter how loud I talked, she couldn't hear.

So I thought, you know, we're not close. Everything I know about her, my cousins told me, and I envied them for the connection they had, but I was also glad to be hearing the stories she told them. Because she was a spunky woman.

I've always known her as teeny tiny and all wrinkly. I used to think her blue eyes were a thing of old age - you know, sometimes eyes go all... rheumy? I think that's the word. But anyway, her eyes weren't rheumy, they were naturally blue, and sharp. A startling feature for the average Lankan. 

But it was her height that was funny, because she was so tiny, and yet so commanding. My cousin told me this one story, back in the very very very old days, when my grandmother was a young mother, pregnant, and alone in an incomplete-house on a hill. My grandfather had gone out. A bunch of 'rowdies' came along, and they started banging on the front door, trying to freak her out and get her to open the door. What's more, there was a back door that wasn't actually fitted and lock-able, and they could've easily gotten in.

But my grandmother, she didn't panic. She didn't try to fix up the back, thereby alerting them to its weakness. She just yelled at them, through the door, while they taunted and teased. And while they stood at the front door, banging away, she poured chilli powder through the grate at the top of the door. They ran away in tears, apparently, and rightly so.

That story never ceased to make me laugh, but I was never surprised. This is a woman, who, in her weak 80s, never allowed any of my gentlemanly boy cousins, who hovered about, to help her down the stairs. This is a woman who hated slow drivers, who had a serious need for speed.

And I did have a connection with her. Just because she was my blood, just because she was the mother of my father. Just because even though we'd never been able to converse normally, she always had this special nickname for me, just me, and as small and trivial as it may seem, it was still there.

I heard that leading up to the days of her death, people flocked from all over the country to her house - her house. It didn't have a street number, it was literally named after her: Aneesa Villa. Practically her palace. These were the people who'd she helped, advised, encouraged, and befriended.

And they came to our house, too. In the last two days, visitors have been dropping by non-stop, people I didn't even know. I don't think it's just because of my dad - I think it's just her.

So I don't really pity her, nor do I mourn her too much. I know she's in the best hands, God's hands. I pray for my dad to have strength, but my grandmother - masha'allah, she had a good run, and insha'allah, she's heading to a better place.

There was another shocker, though. This one not tragic, but more... o.o I donno. Bizarre?

Yesterday, around midnight, when the last visitors were leaving, Kiko was finally freed from the room we'd had him locked in (for his own protection, mind you). After eating and drinking, he started making this really weird sound. I've heard it before - it's that other worldly sound that I hear cats making sometimes, outside, like, a mix between a baby and a meow. I wasn't worried, because, having heard other cats do it, I figured it was something natural. But I needed to quell it, or my parents would get mad.

So, as we all do, I Googled it.

The sound was to do with them being in 'heat'. Oh, cool, I thought. Cat just needs to get laid. Well, I ain't stopping him.

Then I was reading through other details of being in 'heat', and I noticed there were these 'symptoms' that in fact, Kiko had had in a supposed illness that we presumed, a few weeks ago. I was like... whoa o.o Poor dude. 

Then I realised that in fact, when speaking of cats in heat, they always referred to the cats as... she.

...

So, ladies and gentlemen, Kiko is now, in fact... Kiki. I keep thinking of all the times we teased 'him' about being such a pansy, such a girl. I think about all the times we assumed 'he' was having an identity crisis, when 'he' constantly preened 'himself', allowed 'himself' to be dressed in pink. I think of all the conversations I had with 'him', after 'he'd' come back from some proving-my-manhood escapade, and I'd assure 'him' that lots of girls dig a sensitive guy.

...

Also, in the morning, when I looked outside, I saw her snoozing with some other neighbourhood heartbreaker. My first thought was: DAMN, she works first.

Then when Prince Charming hung around all freaking day, just sitting and sleeping around where precious Kiki was sleeping, I, um, got a very bad/awkward/kindofexcited feeling. 

I think the cat is pregnant o.O

Do I know what to do? No. Did I Google it? Yes. Did it have an answer? Duh.

The big one was always 'have her desexed'. I can't do that. The very notion makes me sick. I mean, I know it's normal around here and everything, but to me it feels all wrong, like, who are we take that natural part of an animal away from them, just because we can't handle it?

So it's going to be stressful, and it's going to be insane, but I think I'm just going to let nature take its course. I hope it works out...

Peace in,
Laila