intelligent woman, inferior chick

Awhile back I posted about damselfied action girls, and several comments protested my exclusion of non-fighting female characters in the cited animanga. The counter-argument was that although the female characters were not as strong as the male characters (physically, martially), the female characters contributed in other ways. Then, and now, I don't disagree, but I still think such an argument borders on disingenuous if taken in light of a story's embedded standards.

The majority of stories -- in any format, from nearly every culture, at least from what I've seen, read, and researched -- revolve around male characters. It takes a pickax and night goggles to find the exceptions that pass the Bechdel Test, and that's not exactly a really high standard. It's just taken as a given that the center of a story will be the male protagonist. Either he's the hero, right-up, to get the focus, or he's the woman's objective (and therefore becomes the focus) -- even if, in the latter case, the story is predominantly through the woman's point of view. Her perspective is, more likely than not, going to be fixed on the male character/love interest, and that means the male character remains effectively in the center of the viewing screen. Hell, he'll probably be her main topic of conversation even when he's not on-screen.

That's a duh to most women viewers, I think (and if it's not a duh, or comes as a surprise, you may be reading the wrong journal) but it means that the default is to judge secondary/female characters within a framework, or against a standard, of that main male protagonist. Thus while it may be true that women in Naruto or Bleach do contribute in some way to plot, development, or general support, they're still inferior when measured against what makes the hero so great.

If the hero's main qualification (to be declared/considered the hero) is that he's a strong fighter, the women around him may be savvy, sharp, and wildly successful at whatever they do... but they're inferior when measured against the story's criteria for "what makes the main character be the main character". For a story that posits the hero (or love interest) is worthy of this singular attention -- from the narrative or from the main female protagonist -- by virtue of some quality, more likely than not, the female character will have less of that quality in comparison, and in some cases, may even lack it altogether.

I only just realized this as I've begun watching more East Asian dramas, where there is a greater likelihood (especially in Taiwanese, Thai, and Chinese dramas, at least what I've seen so far) that the female lead will have some ass-kicking skills. In some cases, she's actually a better fighter than the male lead. It's when I analyze what's supposed to set the hero apart that I realize: the more a story emphasizes the woman's fighting skills, the more likely it is that what sets the hero apart isn't his fighting prowess but his mental prowess.

Thus, it's the flip side of Naruto and its "smart girls, bad fighters". Where the hero/male prowess is predominantly defined by intelligence, knowledge, or worldly experience, either the narrative or the other characters (possibly including the male lead) considers the female characters as less-intelligent, even outright stupid. The story sets its value-priority on the hero's brain, not his brawn... which means there's plenty of room to be brawny, for the female, but little room to be brainy. The hero's already gotten first and second shares of that quality.

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cheese-eating sugar monkey & home-again redball

1. Balto went in for neck injury just before Yule, and during the checkup, the vet noticed Balto's got two broken molars. One is snapped, the other is cracked (vertically, at that). Today Balto went in to have his teeth pulled, and let's just say when the vet called to give me an estimate of what it'd cost... well, that's about four mechanics' visits for my car. That's a serious amount of four digits to drop on us without warning. But since one of the molars can be saved (via root canal) and that's a dental-specialist vet, we ended up spending only three-quarters of that estimated cost. Yeah, like this is a big improvement. Bleah.

After a day spent under and then recuperating, Balto's home again, wiggly as ever, and spent the first hour wandering around the living room crying. Not because he hurts, from what I've figured out, but because he greeted Sachiko, and then greeted Kiku... and Baccano was still outside. Oh noes! His kitty isn't home! ...finally, after doing enough tapping-on-sliding-door (to mimic sound of can being tapped), Baka came running in, and now Balto's calmed down. Then CP finally got home from his evening's meeting, and Balto went from fifty-whiney to zero-sleepy just like that.

Ah, now all is well with the world, mostly, in the mind of a groggy red nutball.

Although he did do one thing that has me baffled, when it comes to boy-dogs: he refused to do anything before we left the vet's. He gave that excited crying all the way home, was out of the car instantly, dashed into the house, barely pausing long enough for me to get the leash off. Then he was out the dog-door and into the yard, where he peed for like ten minutes with a blissful (and post-surgery slightly stoned) expression. I have no idea what was up with that.

2. Baccano is a plate-licker. It was bad enough that CP discovered Baka will beg (and pretty obnoxiously) for swiss cheese, which CP will dole out, only every now and then, in teeny pieces about the size of an eraser... but such a teeny piece was enough to hook Baka instantly. (It's like the stupid movies from junior high: one drag, and you're ADDICTED!!11!! FOR LIFE!!)

Over the holidays, our neighbor made her annual Very Awesome Orange Pound Cake (to which, I admit, CP and I are addicted). I had a slice one evening and set the plate on my desk after finishing; ten minutes later I looked up from my book to see Baka on my desk, meticulously licking every inch of the plate. I yanked it away from him, then warned CP that when the sugar rush hit, the littlest demon might end up rocketing around the place for an hour. No noticeable effects, however, so I relaxed.

Until the next day, when I had a slice (sans plate) and went to get up from my desk -- when Baka leapt up on the desk, did a hand-check, hooked a claw in my palm and started licking my fingers. WTF, cat. Seriously. No sugar for you! I consoled him with some jerky.

A few nights ago, I had peanut-butter cookies for a snack, and set one on the mat by my keyboard while I typed. I look over a minute later and Baka's on my desk WITH HIS FACE PRESSED AGAINST THE COOKIE. Mouth open! Tongue descending! The little demon was freaking licking the cookie.

I have no idea what's going on with this cat, but I can say that I think sugar gives him nightmares, seeing how later that night he woke up from a sound sleep, with a bone-chilling holler. Scared himself right awake, and then carried on at me for a good few minutes, telling me all about it before he finally calmed down. I'm not certain there's a connection (he's had nightmares before, though they're pretty rare), but still. Not like I want a plate-licking cheese-eating hallway-roadblock monkey demon suffering nightmare-DTs post-sugar-rush.

Fortunately, jerky remains the great consolation prize.