Happy International Women’s Day! On this day that celebrates women of all shapes, sizes, jobs, sexualities, colours and creed, I found myself thinking, as I often do, of fictional worlds and the women that inhabit them.
In particular, I was reminded of the initial idea I had for my university dissertation. I ultimately didn’t end up doing it, having got to third year and realising that there were other topics I was more passionate about. The idea was an exploration of female heroines in Young Adult fiction, and their symbiotic relationship with how feminism is enacted in my generation. I even had a title for it: “A Generation of Hermione Grangers or Bella Swans?”
With a few years behind me, and (I hope) more perspective and wisdom, I find myself wanting to apologise to Bella Swan. Not that her and Hermione are any more alike, but rather because I implied, and genuinely believed, that one type of female character was more valuable than the other. In my mid-to-late teens, having left my Twilight phase far behind me, I hated Bella. I hated that her story was defined by other people rather than her being a self-sufficient or self-fulfilled heroine. I hated how much of a wreck she was after Edward leaves in New Moon. I thought she was plain and uninteresting and a bad role model for the girls reading these books or watching these films. Having revisited the Twilight films in 2019, and finding myself reading essay upon essay exploring discourse around the saga, I saw her differently.
Yes, she is defined by her relationships to other people, but aren’t we all? Don’t the people around us ultimately shape who we are? And in reality, it isn’t just the central romantic relationships – her relationship with her dad and her friendships with characters like Alice and Jacob are also a key part of understanding Bella. Also, re-watching New Moon and having got over myself, I reminded myself that Bella is 18, this is her very first heartbreak, and her getting depressed and isolating herself from her friends is not an uncommon response. Online, I saw someone note that Bella’s compassion and love is so strong, that when she eventually gains vampire powers, they are a manifestation of that: she has the ability to shield her family/loved ones and protect them. As an adult, I see that, and I think how could I consider being a protective and compassionate mother, wife and friend, a symbol of weakness? As the Priest from Fleabag states so accurately, “Love is not something that weak people do.” This is not to absolve Stephenie Meyer, as there are plenty of other issues with Twilight, but it’s a re-evaluation of a long-hated character.
Another character who often faces a similar criticism, is Cinderella. In fact, Emma Watson is even said to have turned down the role in the live-action remake because she didn’t consider the part a good role model for young girls. And yet, I’ve come to see that Cinderella demonstrates an incredible strength, simply by nature of the fact that she remains kind and optimistic in the face of an abusive upbringing. And then she demonstrates her courage in pursuing her dream and getting out of that situation. The 2015 Cinderella’s motto of ‘Have courage and be kind,’ seems like an exemplary one to follow.
I think that both of these women are demonstrative of our society’s understanding of what is a strong female character, and what isn’t. And yet, the line is never as clear as that. I mean, yes, it’s great that Disney Princesses have become less defined by their romantic relationships, and are being given more extensive quests that are adventurous and contribute to their character growth more so than the love story does. However, that doesn’t mean that having a love story or being more feminine, inherently makes you a weak woman.
The current iteration of Wonder Woman is a great example of this. She is, of course, a classic superhero and has the typical physical strength and characteristics that come with the genre. And yet, she never sacrifices her femininity – in her fashion, in her getting exciting about babies, in her primary motivation in WW84 being her love for Steve. She feels like a real woman (though definitely more glamorous and impressive), in ways that previous versions of the characters just haven’t. This may in part, be down to the fact that the new films are actually written and directed by a woman, and that makes a difference to the way female characters are written.
In women being written by other women, there is a more personal connection to the work, obviously, but I also think that there is more of a willingness to show women as flawed and messy and vulnerable, whilst never seeing that as compromising their status as strong female characters. The 2020 Harlequin movie Birds of Prey, was one example of this, with a female anti-hero at the front, supported by a band of different, complex, nuanced, messy women making up her team.
Another great example of this is the aforementioned Fleabag, which became iconic all around the world, and won a plethora of awards. Fleabag is revered as a show for many reasons, but the element that made it so poignant for me, is its refusal to shy away from human brokenness, epitomised through these (mostly female) characters and their mistakes.
There is of course, still many instances of performative female strength in cinema, such as the moment in Avengers Endgame in which every single woman in the MCU suddenly appears together to save Peter Parker. This moment felt forced, especially as a similar moment happened on a smaller scale in the movie preceding it. In contrast, many fans commented on how well female characters were integrated in Disney+ series The Mandalorian. In the season finale, it wasn’t one forced moment, but rather a natural progression of the storyline to see these women working together on screen.
All in all, there seems to have been a shift in recent years, where fiction has finally realised that there isn’t just one way to be a strong woman. The Black Widows and the Lara Crofts will continue to exist, but let’s not mistake nuanced female characters who don’t embody that image of strength, for weak women.
A woman who chooses to be a housewife is no less strong a woman than one who works her way to the top of her company. A woman who loves love and is a hopeless romantic, is no less strong than a woman who feels she doesn’t need a partner to be fulfilled in her life.
The experience of being a woman is a varied one, and we should want our women in fiction to portray that complexity of feeling and that duality of woman. I’m sorry to all the real and fictional women that I have looked down on over the years, because the media told me that strong women had to be strong in one specific way. I now see your strength and your beauty and it deserves to be valued.