Loving the Problematic

I am, as you probably know by now, a consumer of media. I devour books, I mass watch TV shows, I obsess about things that “aren’t real”. This means I’ve read and watched a lot of good things in my time, but it also means I’ve encountered a lot of shit things too. Especially because, no matter how crappy something is, I will usually finish it. I persevered, for example, with four whole seasons of Smallville before final giving it up in frustration. I read the entire Twilight series in the vain hope that the writing might get better, or perhaps that the damage it was causing to my brain might lower my expectations.

As you also know from my ranting, and my overanalysis of such media, I am a feminist, and I believe in equality of all people regardless of race, culture, gender identity or sexuality. Unfortunately, most of the media I consume does not think like this. Most of the media I consume believes that “sex sells”, that putting women in revealing outfits means they are just “giving the people what they want”, that gay guys are funny, that Asian people all sound the same, that white, middle class, athletic American dudes are the “everyman” that we can all identify with. In short, media is a bit shit. Books are a bit shit. Stuff I enjoy is a bit shit.

So how can I justify this to myself? Well… by writing a blog about it and trying to make it ok, I guess is one way to look at it. The answer is, I can’t really. It’s important to me that I recognise that the last scene in the most recent Game of Thrones season has a problematic depiction of people of colour, that Sherlock doesn’t pass the Bechdel Test, that Cho Chang from Harry Potter has a name that is actually two last names from the wrong culture. It’s important for me to register those things in my brain. And it’s important for me to discuss these things with other people, to talk about why they are problematic, to write blogs about them, because I think those are discussions worth having.

And yet… I still enjoy the books and TV that contain these problematic elements. How can that be? How can I reconcile myself with these things? Sometimes I worry it makes me a bad feminist or even just a bad person to consume some of the media I consume. Doctor Who for example, is pretty much all out hated by feminists these days. And I can, for the most part, understand why. But I don’t hate it. Yes I groan at certain parts, yes it shits me at times, but I still watch and enjoy it. It’s still a really good show. I like it for all the things that don’t shit me, for the amazing stories, for the silliness, for the drama, the music and the sets. I like it for Clara and for River and for Rory and for history and aliens.

Probably my worst crime of the problematic at the moment is Supernatural. I just marathoned all eight seasons of that thing. And holy freaking shit it’s the most misogynistic piece of crap I’ve watched in a long time. Women are killed every few minutes, one of the main characters uses the words, “bitch”, “whore”, “slut” etc. to describe pretty much every woman they come into contact with, and the series of sexual encounters of both Dean and Sam are described like conquests all the time. But I still liked the show. HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE? I’m not even sure. Yes, I would definitely enjoy it more if I didn’t spend large portions of the viewing experience with my fists on my forehead in what I like to call the “god damn it misogyny!” pose, but I didn’t hate the show. It has action and fighting and comedy and good characters and ghosts and vampires and angels and increasingly, Felicia Day. I am in fact looking forward to the 9^th season.

So what am I saying? I guess… that we live in a problematic world, and our media reflects this? It’s nigh on impossible to find a book, TV show, movie, comic etc. that doesn’t have problematic elements. It doesn’t mean we should accept it as “normal”, it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be angry, or frustrated, it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t have discussions about how the things we love could be better but it doesn’t mean we can’t love those problematic things. In fact, I would argue that loving these things means there’s a better chance of them getting better.

I think there’s something to be said for being a discerning audience member, an involved reader. Watch and read what you like, but do so cleverly, do so with nous. Because it’s intelligent discussion and discerning analysis that bring about change, just as much as revolution and boycott. If something offends you, switch it off, if you want, but if something is problematic but still enjoyable, keep watching. Register the problematic elements, talk about them, blog about them, write to the writers, make a video. Say “I love ______, but it worries me that the following things keep happening”. The show runners and writers aren’t going to change their product for the people who turn it off; they are going to change it for the people who keep watching, for the people who keep reading…. For us. 

The "Goddamn it Misogyny!" face, copyright L. King 2013

I'll Make a Man Out of You - Overanalysing Disney's Mulan

So it begins, after having a small crisis about what I’m doing with this blog, I’ve decided to overanalyse stuff on a regular-ish basis. After a vote on the facebook page, the people have spoken, and today’s film for brutal decimation rigorous discussion is Disney’s Mulan. If you haven’t seen it, or if it’s been a while, the basic plot is this: 

Ancient China. Mulan steals her dad’s armour and pretends to be a dude called Ping in order to join the army in her father’s place. She trains with men, “assisted” by a small dragon, Mushu and a cricket (because Disney) and goes to war. She saves the day, but is revealed as a woman, so she is scorned and kicked out of the army. But she is the only one who knows the Hun are still coming! So she saves the friggin day AGAIN and then goes home to her family. It is implied that the handsome commander man who has thus far been a dick to her marries her. The end.

I liked Mulan as a kid. I really did. I was a tomboy, and I liked the idea of a Disney Princess who did her own dirty work. No one saves Mulan, she does it all herself. She wields a sword, rides a horse, sings good songs and is quite funny. The film came out when I was 10, and I can say with absolute certainty that I admired her. In many ways I still do, but having watched the film twice this year, one of those times being this morning, I have a few bones to pick with Disney.

First of all, who approved the racism? A number of the artists working on the animation are Asian or of Asian decent, a number of the voice actors are Asian Americans. George Fucking Takei is in this film. I cannot believe that not a single one of them was like “uhhh… guys?” at some point. But nope, Disney you just went right ahead with cringe worthy racial stereotypes and shitting all over Chinese religious practises.

"A single grain of rice can tip the scale" - geez thanks Confucius, I mean Emperor

This is nothing to the fact that the basic premise of this film is “even Asians think all Asians look alike to the point where they don’t notice a girl dressed in her dad’s armour.” Raaaaaacism.

Ok, so I think we can all accept that Mulan isn’t exactly racially sensitive. In fact, it’s pretty well known that Disney regularly shits all over “other” cultures. May we never forget Pocahontas. But at least Mulan is a better role model for girls than the other princesses, right? Finally we have a female protagonist who looks after herself, who beats people up, who isn’t a damsel? Lizzy, I can practically hear you thinking, please don’t ruin this film by going on a feminist rant. Well, first of all, you’re in the wrong place my friend, and second of all, I am a big advocate for enjoying things in spite of the fact that they may be ‘problematic’. Given that I feel more knowledgeable and more comfortable talking about sexism rather than racism... 

Yeah. I’m about to tear Mulan to shreds.

In the matchmaker scene, Mulan is meant to be all demure and a “good woman” in order to impress the match maker (Miriam Margoyles by the way! Omg!). If impressed, the matchmaker will set Mulan up with a nice husband and she’ll “bring honour to us all”.  But it goes horribly wrong. In a rather hilarious, Disney style way. Stuff breaks, things spill, there’s a fire… it's fun for the whole family. But it doesn’t go wrong because Mulan isn’t a good woman, it goes wrong because the cricket Mulan’s grandma shoved up her dress gets out and causes a fire on the matchmaker’s butt. I’m not really sure what you’re trying to say here Disney. In my memory, I always thought Mulan was too tomboyish and adventurous to be a good, little demure woman. But in reality the problem is that she has a crazy grandma who shoves insects in people’s clothes? WHAT IS YOUR MESSAGE? I’M SO CONFUSED.

In fact most of the things that go wrong in this movie aren’t Mulan’s fault.  When she first arrives at training camp she gets blamed for a brawl that her dragon friend, Mushu, started, she is then singled out for the rest of the training montage.  The other soldiers sabotage her at every turn, putting scorpions down her shirt, tripping her, throwing rocks at her… you know generally being jerks. Once she’s left alone, she works hard and is the only one to climb to the top of the pole and retrieve the arrow. And then she suddenly gets good at all the other stuff. Except that’s not it, is it? She always had the potential but she was just being held back by jerks who didn’t think she could do it. I know they don’t know she’s a girl but um this looks EXACTLY LIKE INSTITUTIONALISED MYSOGINY.

So anyway, she goes on to be the best at army and they set off to defeat the Hun. Mulan uses her cleverness to save them all during a battle and in particular, saves Shang, the guy in charge who she has a slight crush on, from certain falling-off-a-giant-cliff-death. Unfortunately, she gets injured, and when they are patching her up, they discover boobs!

I am not kidding, the music literally goes "Dun Dun Dunnnn" at this moment.

So even though she’s awesome (and also quite injured by the way), she gets thrown to the ground and Cunning, Sneaky Administrator says, “I knew there was something wrong with you! A woman!! Treacherous snake! High treason! Ultimate dishonour!” Are we talking about impersonating a man here dude, or just being a lady in general, I’m not 100% sure. Sexy Shang doesn’t kill her (so generous!) because he owes her his life, but they leave her in the snow. While watching this I made the following note: 

Hello you just saved all our lives and were gravely injured in the attempt. But unfortunately, you have boobs, so we’re going to leave you to freeze to death, bye!

Of course that’s when Mulan realises that the Hun are, somehow, impervious to snow? I don’t know, she destroyed them all with a giant avalanche but even though some of them are shirtless, this seems to have no effect, and they go off on their quest to destroy the Emperor some more. Being the only person who knows this, Mulan heads off to tell everyone. Of course, Sexy Shang doesn’t care that she has vitally important information, only that she insists on still being a girl. “You said you’d trust Ping, why is Mulan any different?” God Mulan, haven’t you got it yet, it’s because of your treacherous anatomy!

It’s all ok though, because Mulan saves the day yet again. And this time, she does it wearing a dress. She’s not the only one either. Three of the men dress as concubines for no real reason to distract the guards. Of course, only the comedic male characters dress as women, not the heroic love interest, because dressing as a woman is both shameful and comedic. Yay. The Emperor is super duper grateful and offers Mulan a place on his council. She turns it down though, because she misses home. Sexy Shang follows her because all of a sudden he’s decided he’s in love with the woman he has been cruel to since the moment he discovered she wasn’t a dude named Ping.

I think what’s most upsetting about Mulan is that it presents as a feminist Disney film. Or at least, it promises a strong female lead, a complex interesting person who is looking for more than just Prince Charming. But it ultimately disappoints, because there’s no real challenge of any status quo. She could only do all those amazing things by being a man, and the second she was found out, she was despised. Mulan marries the handsome man even though he was a dick to her because… why? Because Disney films don’t seem to be able to conceive of a woman who doesn’t want to get married. She can’t just be happy because you know… she saved China, she also has to get a husband, otherwise she’ll be unfulfilled.

Which is exactly how I feel after saving large Asian countries too.

If you liked this, please tell me about it! You can click the reaction buttons below, or write a comment, or like and comment on Facebook. Also available below are sharing buttons: if you liked this, your friends might too. Or they might not. Maybe you are really different to your friends, maybe you struggle to relate to anyone. Maybe you don't have any friends. Oh god I'm sorry... I'm not very good at this. 

Shirley Temple is a Star!

Shirley Temple is a star!

S! T! A! R!

She can do the rumble,

She can do the twist,

She can do anything just like this!

Girls do a curtsey,

Boys take a bow.

Boys go *kiss* *kiss*,

Girls go WOO!

Girl readers in particular possibly remember chanting this in primary school. There were moves too. Do you remember them? I have a vivid image in my mind of three girls standing on one of the metal benches near the oval (you had to do it out of sight of the teachers, see). I’ve forgotten how the moves at the start go, but in my memory, the girls do a curtsey, just like the song says, and then bow low. They come up to blow two quick kisses, and the jump off the bench whilst simultaneously throwing their skirts up high and flashing their knickers.

Within the rhyme scheme, I think that “woo” should probably be a “wow”, but we always said “woo!” when we jumped. I also remember performing this for our male classmates. It was a big deal, it was hilarious, it was risqué. We were literally working up to flashing our undies at unsuspecting boys. And when we did they usually ran away. This counted as playground entertainment in the early to mid 90’s you see; we didn’t have the internet or phones. Hell, tazos and tamagotchis were still years off.

It’s kind of fucked up, though and I can’t stop thinking about it at the moment. Those last two lines in particular. Boys go *kiss* *kiss*, girls go woo. Boys throw some kisses around and girls lift their skirts. Boys press the right button and girls will let them in. Is it an equation, boy kisses go in, exposed undies come out? Or just a statement of fact re gender roles? Boys make the first move, girls then put out? I know it’s a stupid kids’ song, but doesn’t that make it worse? If it’s not to be taken too seriously, why do the lyrics have such serious connotations?

I can’t pinpoint for you the moment I became a feminist, it’s been a gradual process, and I’ve only been properly aware of it for the last 18 months or so. When I was 6, I thought that song was silly, and a bit scary, and it made me slightly uneasy, I think. But I didn’t for a second think about what it meant, I just accepted it as normal, just a song we sang. I don’t know that I even knew who Shirley Temple was, I just knew it was the name of a delicious mocktail my mum bought me once.

Another thing I readily accepted as a child, but find bizarre now; almost all my teddies were male. I had one female teddy that my aunty made from a floral patterned material. Flowers obviously equalled girl, so I named her after my aunty. The other teddy she made used a red fabric, and I named him Red Bear (I’ve always been very creative). I can’t think of another soft toy that wasn’t a boy in my imagining.

I actively sort out male things; I liked them, which is fine. I liked Tonka trucks and digging in my sandpit, I liked Lego and building things with my wooden blocks. Even when I went through a Barbie phase, my favourite thing was my Barbie car. Oh yes, there was a Barbie phase, but it lasted a very short time and then… here’s the kicker, I was ashamed of it. I am *all* for kids playing with non-stereotypical toys, but why was I ashamed of my stereotypical phase? I got rid of those Barbies faster than you could rip off one of the Barbie dresses, but not before mutilating a few of those plastic beauties. If you want to look at this metaphorically, I literally pulled the head off stereotypical femininity before going back to trucks and pretending my lapse into girl-ness never happened.

I thought girl stuff was stupid, I identified as a tomboy, I didn’t want girl toys because I thought girls were crap. I had a lot of female friends but right through primary and high school I would often say things like “I much prefer the company of the boys”, “I don’t fit in with the girls”, “girls are so screechy and stupid”. Why did I hate women? How did I reconcile this within my own identity as a woman? I’m still working some of that out, and I do wonder if my own self-worth was damaged by these beliefs (it must have been, surely?). What I do know is that I don’t regret any of this. I am not ashamed. I’m not sure I could be the feminist I am today if I hadn’t had to teach myself how to not hate women first.

The other night I had a lovely conversation with two female friends about how we are all only just now discovering make up. All three of us identified as being not particularly “girly” during the phase of our lives where many girls learn how to apply make up, do their hair and dress themselves well. And now all three of us are discovering things like how to make our eyelashes curly, what lipstick colour suits us, or what kind of clothes look nicest on us. While it would have been nice to learn this sort of stuff years ago, maybe, there is a certain empowering feeling, actively seeking out this kind of lady knowledge now, as an adult. It feels like something I am doing, not something that is being forced upon me. I’m not, by any means saying that women who have had their face and hair shit together since they were teenagers are not empowered, or not feminists, just that it’s working for me. I am working it. It is a part of my feminism, and I love it.

And if I could go back in time and stop my younger self from performing the Shirley Temple song, I wouldn’t. Because my younger self enjoyed it, she got a thrill out of it, but most importantly it made her feel a bit weird. And that little niggling feeling has been burrowing inside me since the very first time I watched three girls jumping off a bench with their skirts in the air. That little feeling stayed with me through all these years, it has manifested in strange and interesting and complicated ways, and though I didn’t know it then, thinking that song was a bit weird was the first feminist feeling this lady brain ever had.