Writing good literature as a good feminist

I want to bring my feminism into my writing. With this residency, as it was in the last, occasionally something comes up in texts that strikes me as unfeminist. In one fellow student's script, the main female character was leered at by literally every male character in the story. I found this to be an unfair portrayal of men and gratuitously sexualizing to the woman. I could say "I think you overdid it with the leering, it feels unrealistic," because that's a critique of the writing. But because we're not here to judge the social responsibility of the script, it would not have been appropriate for me to say, "I think this is an unfeminist portrayal."

Still, I do actually feel that stronger, more fully realized characterization will necessarily be feminist. So I have a responsibility to myself to monitor my writing for it. Now, I would not say that just because a piece is not Specifically Feminist that makes it Unfeminist. Sometimes the story you need to tell is not going to have those markers we are encouraged to look for As Proof of Feminist Sensibility-- an easy example would be passing the Bechdel Test --just as a matter of course. Doesn't mean it takes place in an unegalitarian world, or is evidence of unegalitarian thought. In an ideal world, we'd all be so feminist that you could just choose in a vacuum what to include and it would always come purely from the demands of the story; respect for people of all genders would be taken for granted. But sometimes this comes about because we are conditioned to not think to include those things, so at times we need to make efforts to be mindful.

So I should make efforts. In Just So, for example, the two fussy, pretentious main characters were modeled off Frasier and Niles Crane, so my first instinct was to make them men. But it occurred to me almost immediately that there was literally zero reason why they had to be. And I've resolved to myself to not just go with male characters by default (as many of us are often inclined), so in a case where it mattered so little I decided to take the opportunity to switch. Now I personally think they're much funnier as middle-aged, out-of-touch society woman than they would be as anything else. Now I have an interesting, unusual piece to my credit-- something funny, with women, where the characters' genders mattered so little that, hey, if you wanted to have them played as men, you totally could. Bechdel would be proud. ;-)

As a side note, during the in-class workshop on a whim I chose two male classmates as my readers. They "played" them as women but didn't affect themselves in any way. It pleased me how smoothly it worked. It also struck me that they would probably be hilarious as drag roles. I love the notion that you could play my little show so many different ways-- straight up, as two middle-aged ladies, gendered-swapped as equally stuffy, pretentious middle-aged men, or dragged with two male actors dressed up as women. Maybe I should add an author's note to that effect. :-)

Of course, sometimes I screw up. Fallen, a piece that has a lot of personal significance to me and one I hope I get to work on in my scifi/fantasy independent study this semester, has a pretty blatant example of what some refer to as "manpain," when a female character suffers and the truly important emotional response for the story's trajectory is not from her but from a male character who cares about her. Perhaps what falls under "Women in Refrigerators" Syndrome in it, when a female character undergoes trauma specifically in order to facilitate the emotional journey of the male character.

But being aware of it, I can work to subvert it. I can acknowledge the unfairness of such a situation. Now, Gabriel is my main character, his reaction IS most important to the story I want to tell, but that doesn't mean I should make Rachel into a less complete being by denying her a reaction to her own suffering. I can make her feelings, her journey because of this terrible thing happening TO HER, important as well. It can be about her too, not just what it does and leads to for my male protagonist. In being mindful about what our storytelling choices can mean, we can tell the stories we want to tell in a way that allows feminism to keep our characters fully realized.