manifesta

A new SF anthology is coming out titled "Before They Were Giants." Of the 15 contributing authors, only 1 is a woman.

cassiphone's periodic table of SF women:

"One of the most frustrating responses I heard to the ‘Before they were Giants’ discussion, itself the latest in a long line of TOC rows, was the kneejerk “but there just aren’t as many women who are giants in the field.”

"[...] Because of course there were women. And it’s time to stop and think about the fact that the majority of authors considered “giants” in the history of field are male. Is it really because their books were better? Because what they were saying was more important? Because more people were talking about them, critiquing them, being influenced by them? Are we absolutely certain that none of those things could have been affected by societal pressures other than the pure “quality” of the text?"

The editor of the anthology responded here. (Also indicates that nonwhite and LGBTQ authors were not considered.)

strangedave on the lack of female representation in SF anthologies. Apparently and a few others have been criticized for criticizing the lack of diversity.

"And we are still having this conversation in the SF field after at least 35 years. If just politely helping people become aware of the issue worked, we wouldn't still be talking about it. And yet, it keeps happening, again and again. People are still putting together anthologies without even thinking about gender as an issue — and the only way to make them think about the issue is to make sure it isn't thought of as just a nicety, just another thing to try and improve that fellow editors will give you hints about (like font choice, or cover layout), but rather as something that is a major mistake if you get it wrong, something that will attract not mild criticism but anger. Anger is entirely appropriate. No one should expect not to get publicly called on their big mistakes, rather we should all endeavour not to make them, and learn to handle them gracefully when we do (as, to his credit, Sutter largely has)."

When fail is put on the interwebs, I consider it free game. If it's relatively isolated incident that doesn't impact a ton of people, I might contact the author(s) privately or on their own site and address the issue there. But this is an anthology that we're talking about; it's going to be on physical bookshelves and it's going to impact people who will never run across the discussions that are happening right now on the internet. That anthology is not going to come with a disclaimer that apologizes for its silencing of nonwhite, LGBTQ, and female SF writers. And so if the only option availiable is to discuss its inherent privilege all over the internet, then that's what I intend to do.

For additional reading: A partial podcast transcript about the debacle.

theinkymuse posted a discussion of how whitewashing covers impacts people of color.
 
I've already covered the Bloomsbury debacle(s), so I won't again, but definitely read the rest of his post. What I wanted to point out was how he used social cognitive theory to frame his analysis.

"The portrayal, and even preeminence, of white people that whitewashing engenders does have an affect. If we are not white, and we are not equal enough to even be put on book covers...what are we? Secondary? Inferior?

"There is a theory in psychology known as the social cognitive theory, stating that we, as individuals, form out concepts and schemata for the world from our interactions, experiences, and observations of society.

"That's what people of color are seeing and learning, and, eventually, it may even be what comes to pass. Self-fulfilling prophecies, and all that business. Because it's an identity issue, and it's an equality issue, and it's a damn important issue."

I may have said this before and in various ways, but his post solidified for me the connection between social cognitive theory and my feminist analysis of genre books and the publishing industry, and I thought I might elaborate.

By way of introduction, I am a psychology major, and within the realm of psychology I happen to specialize in social cognitive theory. "Social" psychology is the study of the interactions between individuals while "cognitive" psychology is the study of the mind. Combine the two and the result is the study of how individuals' interactions influence the mind (and vice versa).

Social cognitive theory, in the context of genre books and in my mind, means taking an interaction and the characters involved in that interaction and looking at their myriad of motivations, emotions, and investments, all of which are built upon the layers that have been laid down from the very beginning of the story and have resulted in a complex psychology of human behavior--and then working even farther backwards and looking at why the author wrote it they way they did and how, in their writing it in that specific way, their real-world biases and the limitations of their experiences are reflected.* In regards to the industry itself, it means examining what choices are made (such as the skin color of the cover models, but can also extend to include content, such as what is and is not allowed in YA books), the biases surrounding those choices, and their impact on the people who see and read those books.

What we see, if we see it often enough, we frequently internalize. Even if we consciously don't agree with something, our subconscious absorbs the stereotypes that the images that surround us present, and with enough exposure these stereotypes may develop into beliefs and attitudes that we may not explicitly show but still confirm through our subtle behaviors. Books are one medium that expose these attitudes. Hidden biases that the author may not have even known they had are no longer hidden as the veil falls away and the words on the pages of a book become an entrance to not just what the author thinks about, but what they don't think about. A privileged individual that thinks about their own privilege can at least attempt to reduce their bias on the page. A privileged individual that does not becomes glaringly obvious.

Close examination reveals our society's preference for white, cissexual, heterosexual, thin, able-bodied, male characters through the absence of non-white, LGBTQ, non-thin, disabled, transgendered, and female characters. The divisive, often exlusive, and increasingly contradictory roles and characteristics of male and female characters can be labelled with new language that pinpoints the divisive and patriarchal notions underlining them.

It's a cycle.** We not only absorb messages that reinforce societal norms (regardless of whether we actively strive not to) but we also reproduce them, often times in quiet, unnoticed ways. The latter is the only part over which we have some control; by continuing to analyze, to question, to pick apart these tropes that objectify women or justify the rape culture that is increasingly perpetuated through YA romantic fiction (next post!), we can begin to raise our level of consciousness and challenge the system in place that allows for these messages to continue to be sent.


*As a sort of disclaimer, I am often the first to defend the sanctity of the author--that the experiences and beliefs of the characters do not necessarily reflect the author's experiences or beliefs. Because x character is depressed does not necessarily mean that the author has ever, in their lifetime, experienced depression. However, I do believe that consistency and repetition across books and genre reveal not only the subtle but telling aspects of the author's schemas but also the systemic and institutional prejudices society holds against cognizant groups.

**If you want a diagram of how social cognitive theory works in this context, a rough draft version might be:

repetitive biased message in real world -->
--> author bias (conscious or unconscious)
--> repetitive biased message in a book (as seen by character actions/beliefs/choices, lack of representation, what the characters mean to each other, etc.)
--> internalization by reader
--> conscious or unconscious behavioral replication of biased message by reader

From the Yale Herald, In Defense of Romance: Proving the Stereotypes Wrong:

Others rebut feminist critiques of romance novels by saying that such criticism is, at best, beside the point. Even if you believe that the books perpetuate harmful stereotypes, romance is hardly be the only genre to systematically denigrate women. “In many genres—horror or spy fiction, for example,” said Willig, “Women are treated horribly by men, whereas in romance novels at least the women are the heroines.” The pervasive nature of sexism in media means that to expect romance novels to be paragons of gender equality is to hold them to a much higher standard than any other form of popular entertainment.

Furthermore, despite the fact that this sort of indictment of the genre was first raised by feminist critics, there are ways in which the critique itself can be seen as sexist. After all, doesn’t the argument that romances inculcate women with “patriarchal propaganda” deny women the ability to judge the books for themselves?

Bold emphsis mine.

It is a symptom of the perversion of our society that we often justify sexism and gender inequality, regardless of the severity or context, by saying hey, it could be worse. If women are treated horribly by men in other genres, then not only is that not a cause for alarm, the stereotypical portrayal of women in romances--stereotypes with roots in sexism--is considered okay as long as they're the heroines. I can certainly appreciate the significance of romance novels, given that they're written by women for women and feature women leads, but that doesn't negate the the fact that they can still do so much better. There are more ways to end a HEA (Happily Ever After) than the heteronormative tropes of marriage and a baby. There are better ways to portray women's strength than to give them a gun or a paranormal boyfriend. Which isn't to say these things are inherently bad, but the consistency of how women are portrayed is the issue, and when these images repeatedly adhere to traditional heterosexual (not to mention able-bodied, white, thin) norms, the level of equality that romance novels possess becomes limited, and real people are impacted. Pretending that this isn't a problem is what is sexist.

I don't hold romance novels to a higher standard. I hold them to the same standard that I do for every other form of entertainment, precisely because my standards for every form of entertainment requires that they treat women with respect and include diversity. I don't see the media as demanding that romance novels stand on a stool of equality; when romance novels dominate the best seller list but don't appear even once in the reviews of the New York Times, I see the media as ignorant and dismissive. The issue of whether or not romance novels are decent examples of gender equality doesn't even enter their radar. 

 Lastly, because women are clever creatures, it is entirely possible for a woman to read a critique of a book and then judge the book herself. Criticizing a book, especially when that critique focuses on how the book perpetuates systemic male power through its portrayal of women, is not sexist. Denying others the ability to criticize books that contain sexist elements on the basis of women being unable to make objective decisions is sexist.  

It is an unfortunate truth that I live in a wind tunnel. For some reason, Bellingham likes to show its worst side in the morning hours when I need to walk to class. The wind tunnel is a direct line from my apartment to campus. With little to no cover. My jeans are still hanging out to dry from the crazy wind and rain.

However, an hour after my last class, it became perfectly sunny out. I live in a city with a cheeky sense of humor.

*****

Dry, warm, and armed with a caramel macchiato, I offer forth my analysis of The Raven Prince (with an introductory divergence into my reading habits).

I feel like I frequently purchase or choose to read books from specific subgenres (urban fantasy, paranormal romance, and historical romance in particular) in hopes of finding one that redeems the rest of the genre. Being a fantasy reader first and a romance reader second, urban fantasy and paranormal romance should be right up my alley. And in many ways, they are. Setting aside my dislike of repetitive tropes, I enjoy the fantasy aspects of most UF and PR. My main complaint tends to be the author's portrayal of women, using multiple boytoys or leather or guns to create the illusion of strength while still keeping them firmly tied down in the realm of acceptable femininity.  The most disturbing aspect of this is that the majority of these books are written by women for women.*

Historical romance is not only rife with strict gender roles and reduce women's worth to their sexuality, often times domestic violence is disguised as ecstacy, the laws of consent are bent until they're broken, and sexual assault is sugar-coated and justified. Given the fact that historically women are and have been oppressed by men and a system of male domination, I argue that it is inherent within any historical romance set prior to the 1970s that there will be rampant sexism.**

Which brings me back to every once in a while picking up another one of these types of books in hopes of finding something that isn't utterly appalling. I love history. To my chagrin, this is the first quarter that I've been able to take a history course since high school. And so it is a particularly awful quandry I've found myself in, wanting to immerse myself in a romance that takes place in a non-contemporary setting while also wanting the female characters to be written with respect.

There have been many women from history who we now describe as strong and empowered despite the times they lived in. These women persevered despite the oppression that surrounded them. Most didn't outright ignore their society's social norms but instead learned to adapt them. If they couldn't vote, they influenced their husbands'. If they could only wear skirts, they would wear trousers when in secret.  If they weren't allowed to fight in a war, hell, they disguised themselves as men and fought anyway.

It is because of this that I am convinced that historical romances can do better. I understand and respect the need for accuracy in historical romances, but accuracy is more than just correct fashions or dialogue--it is the little things, the details that differentiate a novel that depicts women in history as unknowing victims from a novel that illustrates women's strengths in the face of adversity.

Now. The Raven Prince. 

I picked it up on a whim over Christmas break and recently sat down to read it. It's a compelling, spicy tale of an impoverished widow who actively seeks a job (!!!) and becomes the resident Earl's secretary. Anna is snarky, inquisitive, and uncowed, even when dealing with Edward's temper. At one point, she questions the social construction of propriety:

"Had she ever met a prostitute? She thought not. such persons lived in a different world from poor country widows. A world that her community explicitly forbade from ever intersecting hers. She should do as John suggested and leave the poor woman. It was, after all, what everyone expected of her.

"John Coachman was offering his hand to help her up. Anna stared at the appendage. Had her life always been this constrained, her boundaries so narrow that at times it was like walking a tightrope? Was she nothing more than her position in society?

"No, she was not." (page 69)

Hoyt takes risks in writing The Raven Prince; Anna pushes more boundaries than I've ever seen in a historical. She toes the line between what is acceptable and what is not while still remaining, if somewhat precariously, on the side of societal respectability. She does not break so many rules that she becomes discredited as fringe or Other, but instead bends enough of them that she shines as a strong individual capable of asserting her opinion and taking care of herself.

This is what I mean when I say women in historical settings can and did adapt to their circumstances instead of merely conforming. This is what I mean when I say historical romances can do better.

There are flaws, of course. The constant reminder of how Anna is "feminine" and Edward "masculine" was overkill and unnecessary, explicit gender stereotyping. Edward himself was as decent a hero as I've seen, which the exception of an episode later in the book where he pinned her against a wall with his weight in a fit of rage. Believe it or not, this falls under the banner of domestic violence, and it is a prime example of how violence against women is frequently glorified as acceptable "because she deserved it" or passed off as sexual aggression in romance novels and our society at large. He didn't hurt her, but he damn well made sure she knew he could if he wanted to.

Additionally ( minor spoiler warning )

I also have a niggling feeling that Anna is only allowed to bend so many rules because she is a widow. I'd like to see a romance of a single, nonvirginal  single woman in a historical period that questions the structure of her society and then defies it. In many ways a single woman would have more to lose, and so I believe the risks taken would be greater and thus more compelling.

Overall The Raven Prince is my favorite historical romance that I've read by far, and I'm looking forward to the second book, The Leopard Prince.*** Hoyt did justice to Anna and wrote her as a strong, salient female character despite and within the confines of the era's social norms. 



*If history is any indication, romance novels tend to quite accurately reflect the reality of middle-class, heterosexual White women. Romances of the 50s-70s featured rape as the main form of initial intercourse between the hero and heroine; rape was used as a justification for the female character's sexual pleasure in a social climate where women were not supposed to want to have sex, let alone enjoy it. I would theorize that the sexualization of women in modern UF & PR is a reflection of an evolved but decidely insidious form of the same gender stereotypes from the 50s. Women are allowed to have sex and be sexual, but only if it takes place in the form of what men want; women are allowed to be strong, but only in ways men find acceptable. A woman is not allowed to stand strong on her own merit. This isn't to say, of course, that women shouldn't wear leather or pursue multiple sexual liasions--certainly. I am more concerned about the overall trend, and, no, I'm not convinced that the what-sells-is-replicated model is a good enough answer. I question why it sells.

**Not that there isn't sexism in contemporary romance, or any other genre for that matter. Our society was built on and perpetuates sexism, and until that system is revolutionized, even the most egalitarian novel will reflect that.

***The interspersion of the fairytale "The Raven Prince" was a charming detail, one I hope is repeated.