Clumsy Heroines

A few months ago, I picked up Mindy Kaling's Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (and Other Concerns).  Although I didn't find it quite as funny as Bossypants, I thought Kaling was spot-on with her description of stereotypes in rom-coms: 

"When a beautiful actress is cast in a movie, executives rack their brains to find some kind of flaw in the character she plays that will still allow her to be palatable. She can’t be overweight or not perfect-looking, because who would pay to see that? A female who is not one hundred per cent perfect-looking in every way? You might as well film a dead squid decaying on a beach somewhere for two hours.  

So they make her a Klutz. 

The hundred-per-cent-perfect-looking female is perfect in every way except that she constantly bonks her head on things. She trips and falls and spills soup on her affable date (Josh Lucas. Is that his name? I know it’s two first names. Josh George? Brad Mike? Fred Tom? Yes, it’s Fred Tom). The Klutz clangs into stop signs while riding her bike and knocks over giant displays of fine china in department stores. Despite being five feet nine and weighing a hundred and ten pounds, she is basically like a drunk buffalo who has never been a part of human society. But Fred Tom loves her anyway."

I don't think this is limited to rom-coms, though:  I've seen the same trope in chick lit novels.  It's a much longer story as to why I'm reading it, but every time the heroine of Fifty Shades of Grey falls, trips, or somehow injures herself, I can't help but rolling my eyes.  (I also felt this way about Bella in the Twilight series).  Granted, Fifty Shades is making me want to roll my eyes for a whole long list of other reasons.


(You can find the full Kaling piece here.)  

An Ode to Hermoine

Oh man. I saw Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows last night, which means I'm still a little hyped up from the sweet deliciousness of dropping into J.K. Rowling's alternate universe for an evening. (Even better, I came home and discovered the Harry Potter wiki, leading to an embarrassing amount of time spent reading about the various character's connections. Draco marries Daphne Greengrass's sister? Who knew?)

But the highlight of the movie for me was watching Hermoine Granger's evolution. Smart, resourceful, courageous -- she's clearly the star of this film. And, in particular, it's hard not to contrast her with another popular teenager character: Bella in Twilight.

Earlier this week, I posted this article on my Facebook, which discusses some of the differences between the women in Harry Potter and Twilight. The author's pre-teen daughter offers the following explanation of the differences between Potter and Twilight fans:

There are 'Potter' people, and there are people who like Stephenie Meyer's 'Twilight' series -- and very little overlap exists between the two groups. 'Twilight' fans imagine their teenage selves being fought over by men, she says; 'Potter' fans want to fight for good alongside the men. My daughter knows which type of young woman she wants to be.

Now, don't get me wrong: I enjoyed the Twilight series. But I thought that passage captured the key distinction between the female protagonists in the series and explains why Harry Potter captured my attention in a way that Twilight never will.

Both are teenagers transplanted into new worlds (Hogwarts, Washington). Both face issues of complicated teenage emotions: navigating feeling like ''the other'' in new environments, raging hormones, parents who just don't understand. Both face imminent dangers to their lives.

But I think the notable difference is how they react to these challenges. When Ron chooses Lavender Brown for the object of his affection, Hermoine is upset -- but she moves on with her life (even while studiously ignoring him). When Edward leaves Bella, she falls apart, sinking into depression and self-destructive behavior.

And when faced with threats to their lives, they each take different paths: Bella spends a large part of the series allowing Edward and Jacob to handle the evil vampires (until, of course, Edward can impart his own superhuman powers to Bella). Hermoine? She's not waiting around for the boys to fix things; years of diligent academic pursuits have made her a force to be reckoned with, one who can decipher ancient runes, tell off the Minister of Magic for his violation of Magical Laws, and conjure potions beyond most wizards' ordinary capabilities. Clearly, she's no wallflower waiting to be rescued.

Stephanie Meyer has defended her portrayal of Bella after critics lambasted the series for being anti-feminist, explaining that feminism is about choice and Bella needs to make the choices that are right for her. While I'm not going to argue about whether Twilight is anti-feminist or not, I do think that there's an important distinction in how each character approaches presented hardships.

And, for that, give me plucky, feisty Hermoine over sullen, woe-is-me Bella any day.

For the Twi-hards...

Despite the fact that I'm sure I'm opening myself up to mockery with this one, this is for my friends obsessed with Twilight.*

"It continued like that for the rest of the day. While he walked me to English, when he met me after Spanish, all through the lunch hour, he questioned me relentlessly about every insignificant detail of my existence. Movies I'd liked and hated, the few places I'd been and the many places I wanted to go, and books -- endlessly books.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd talked so much. More often than not, I felt self-conscious, certain I must be boring him. But the absolute absorption of his face, and his never-endeing stream of questions, compelled me to continue. Mostly his questions were easy, only a very few triggering my easy blushes. But when I did flush, it brought on a whole new round of questions."

* I will not name names, but you know who you are. (*ahem* Bubbles, Linda *ahem*)