all these cunning men
May. 23rd, 2006 11:24 amBut the whole childhood of that narrator is about driving around all summer with parents and brother in a station wagon, and camping, and because her dad is a science professor, they always have jars of bugs and stuff, and she arrives into adolescence feeling more like a boy than girl, and doesn' t know how to manage the subterfuge and hierarchy of girls.
It was no doubt the slimy things in jars that made me make the connection I'm about to go into -- both because of my HP fannishness and because I was crazy for science (although not biology, but rather chem) when I was a kid.
Perhaps women love villains in stories, not because of Jungian this or that, not because of some dark, removing responsibility for sexual desire fantasy, but because we relate to them and so can wish to be them -- they are in range of our experience as heroes rarely are. The villain (or at least the anti-hero), like girls and women, must navigate subterfuge and heirarchy. We see their male privilege as attainable to us, because their burdens are similar to our own unprivileged ones. That the long tradition of the feminization of villains (and JKR actually does this on such a consistent and massive scale it's a little weird), strikes me as possibly being an outgrowth of this, and not merely, as I think is often assumed, an attempt to insult the sexuality/power/honorableness of the villain or anti-hero.
I think it's why we like the Slytherins, ladies. We imagine the prices they pay are measured in units we can understand. And so we play at wickedness being clever and sexy and all that, because it's simply a way to show gratitude to certain tales while not being questioned too closely.
When I mentioned this to
So much of the two-gender world seems to be a lot of people unwilling to say aloud, "I want all my wounds and all your power" and then being pissy about it.
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Date: 2006-05-23 04:21 pm (UTC)I can't speak to Slytherin lovers, not being a fan of the HP books, but I think this statement has a lot of merit. You know how cunning, stealth, and treachery have long been considered the woman's weapon as opposed to brute strength, strategists over tacticians... it seems the cleverest villains, the silkily subtle ones, draw female admiration, whereas the strongmen, the blunt tyrants, are derided [or have a silkily subtle advisor, didja ever notice?].
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Date: 2006-05-23 04:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-23 04:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-23 05:01 pm (UTC)There's the Devil Himself in The Passion of the Christ, completely androgynous. Insidious.
Iago...
I hated the book Outlander, but the villain is a handsome, somewhat feminine army officer.
Feyd and Baron Harkonnen in Dune - not *typically* feminine, but both possessing feminine qualities.
Jame Gumb from Silence of the Lambs - hell, Hannibal Lecter, too, with his attention to sensual detail.
The king's son in Braveheart - a villain and weak, too. And queer...
Alex in A Clockwork Orange
Richelieu in a couple of Dumas novels
I feel like I'm missing a ton of really obvious ones, but those are a few, at least. Most literature villains seem to be escaping me at the moment.
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Date: 2006-05-23 05:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-23 05:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-23 05:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-23 04:33 pm (UTC)Yes! Like Smithers to Mr. Burns!
Or at least some weaselly guy with designs on something else...
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Date: 2006-05-23 05:04 pm (UTC)Ha - precisely. Too bad we can't identify them all by their Malibu Stacy collections. ;D
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Date: 2006-05-23 06:57 pm (UTC)For school I've been writing a series of papers which, as an aside, discuss the evolution of Athena as a goddess of domestic protection, learned skills, and feminine mysteries into the Romanized "goddess o' wisdom" that kids are taught about today. (The Romans were very afraid of powerful, magical women... hence their dislike of the cults of Dionysus and Ceres... but that's another story.)