In honor of international women’s day (not really it was just a coincidence) I thought about shutting down these ongoing stories that I have ongoing.
See what happened is that I started watching the old Netflix Daredevil show a few weeks ago. I like it so far, probably because it’s basically Batman Year One, but I got a bee in my bonnet about the female characters on the show. I could be wrong, maybe they bring her back, but seems like they’ve already given Night Nurse the boot. Which leaves us with Karan Page. She’s so, so pretty, but I thought that she falls into a very tired tropey category for me – her call to action was being victimized and her role is to blunder around while more capable male characters tell her what to do and/or rescue her from thugs. Blech I said.
But then I realized that I’m probably oversensitive about female character stuff. And then I realized I’m probably doing it all wrong anyway. Such as, my take was “they have the female character be the healer? That’s passive and lame.” But then my epiphany was that I only think that because I’m a gross hairy gassy guy. Maybe not the whole reason but at least in part.
It’s almost like, and stay with me here people, that I can’t not see things from a male perspective because I’m a huge burly smelly man.
This made me think once again about my maybe obsession maybe something else with writing female characters. Going all the way back to HS any time I sit down to write my first second and third instinct is to make my main character a lady. Even when it makes no sense and I “have” to justify in some weird way.
I don’t mind reading about dudes as main characters, I wouldn’t read many books of I did, I don’t mind watching shows with dudes as main characters. I mean Unforgiven is one of my favorite movies and it fails the Bechdel Test and the Sexy Lamp test and any other test you want to give it. I don’t have any issues with enjoying dudes (if you know what I mean) in theory. But for reasons I can’t pinpoint I don’t have the instinct to write about them.
I’ve thought about it a lot and I’ve written about it (sorry) and I don’t know why. I worry that the reason is something gross.
Anyway, I didn’t want to get all in my head about that again so I thought “Well, even though not many people read my blog so it really doesn’t matter I should just shut down Ela and Grace and if I still want to write just write something else with a dude character”.
So I brainstormed about a new story for 2 seconds and then I was all like “gah, why would I want to write about a guy? Gross.”
Long story boring I’m not going to change anything but I do “know” that I’m probably doing something bad somehow without being aware of it. Which makes me the worst monster of all I guess since I’m not stopping.
As long as I’m navel gazing about trivialities I’m starting to worry that I don’t understand satire.
I’ve documented to the enjoyment of no one my long personal battle with the movie Jennifer’s Body. It has been confirmed for me by multiple reputable sources that Jennifer’s Body is a brutal send-up of the sexy vamp devil woman killer thing. But I watch it and to me it just is a sexy vamp devil woman killer thing.
I just finished reading the book Escape from Oblivia (I’ll admit that I just bought it because I liked the cover) and it definitely is supposed to be a wicked satirical attack on male privilege and toxic masculinity and pulp adventure stuff from men’s magazines back in olden times and things of that nature. But I read it and I kept waiting for the satire and it never came. To me it just was those things.
SPOILERS
The dude is a huge asshole to his wife and daughter and whenever she calls him on it he’s even more of an asshole. And then he goes insane and retreats to a fantasy world where he murders younger versions of himself and humps naked ladies that can’t talk and never want to do anything but have sex.
Satire?
I guess he goes insane. Is that the part where they really stick it to the patriarchy?