Pretty soon, Aprilynne's official website will need to be updated. Never one to take the easy road, I've been contemplating a site overhaul. So yesterday evening I was browsing the websites of various young adult authors, with an eye toward any conventions in content or layout that I should keep in mind. I happened across the site of Justine Larbalestier, who had recently penned this fascinating entry on double standards in the perception of male versus female protagonists. It sucked me right in!

Chapter One: Unwitting Fool That I Am

What happened next surprised me, though it shouldn't have because apparently I have this effect on people. *sighs*

I posted my concurrence, as I was particularly impressed with Justine's observation that "readers put [stereotypes] back into the text" even when authors are working to subvert them. And (probably because I reduce everything to Pirsigian terms) I added that I think Neal Stephenson's Diamond Age is both topical and helpful, as it is a novel focused primarily on a female protagonist who discovers that overcoming the status quo is not an unqualified good.

This was apparently the wrong move. Holly Black, a middle-grade author, took a pretty dim view of my comment. In particular, she said:

"While I love me some Neal Stephenson, I think that it might be more useful–although possibly less comfortable–to first look at some of the explorations of this particular subject written by women."

Feel free to ignore her baseless implication that I must be "uncomfortable" with books written by women. Most of her comment verged ever-so-slightly on uncharitable and condescending, but I didn't see any reason to stoop to her level. Well, you know. At the time. d^_~b

Because, to this point, I figured we were focused on overcoming stereotypes with protagonists, since that's what Justine's entry was about. I pointed out that Holly had stumbled over her own position; this is a common problem when working from the perspective of the ostensibly oppressed. Making an argument for "equality" by suggesting that the oppressed group is somehow superior rarely gets you far. (cf. Justice Sotomayor's badly-worded speech)

Justine responded to the conversation, praising Holly's obtuse remarks to the sky and pointedly ignoring my carefully-crafted rebuttal. Apparently she had decided that I was no fun. She did note that:

"...a couple of the commenters I know to be male were more interested in talking about male characters & writers than the topic under discussion..."

Never mind that the blog entry--ostensibly, the topic--said precious little about writers of any gender, and actually makes explicit reference to unpacking "assumptions about what girls and boys can and can’t do" (emphasis mine). Well, not one to assume that I have been blackballed without verification, I posted one last comment, which she deleted--blackballing confirmed:

I assume you are including me in that. I apologize if you felt I was off-topic in mentioning Neal Stephenson. My impression was that your post was about female protagonists, not writers, and Diamond Age fits the first description. It is even subtitled, A Young Lady’s Illustrated Primer.

Is it possible that this is another manifestation of ministering to the converted? Will we ever successfully overcome gender stereotypes if we alienate men from the cause by casually suggesting that their contributions are unwelcome or unnecessary? In short, do we want to overcome stereotypes, or do we just want to complain endlessly that they are bad, and receive affirmation and accolade from our like-minded peers?

Well. Answer received, loud and clear.

Chapter Two: Zealous Much?

I love demotivators. One of the older ones that I still think about from time to time is Consulting, which reads, "If you're not a part of the solution, there's good money to be made in prolonging the problem." Ideologues are good at this, often driving a wedge between the two parties they propose to reconcile, thereby inflating their own relevance.

There is a very real sense in which Justine Larbalestier, who says she has "tried to work against stereotypes at all times," makes her living on the existence of stereotypes. Without stereotypes, she would have none to break; if her characters didn't fight and reject and transcend stereotypes, her books would be (by definition) banal. Her continued livelihood rather depends on her never achieving her stated aims. Deleting my comment appears to confirm that she is more interested in receiving affirmation than having a discussion.

Which should not be taken as a stab at her ultimate motivation; she seems both intelligent and sincere. But she is also apparently reluctant to have a meaningful conversation about the issues she posed, particularly if that conversation might reveal that her plain-stated, gender-neutral egalitarianism is really just a masquerade for extreme feminism--or perhaps even conceptual misandry.

This is the great mistake of, uhm, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say "almost every major cause, ever." One of my professors pointed this out in a different context, but the point is easily universalized: those who are most passionate in a cause often alienate their greatest supporters by suggesting that those supporters are insufficiently committed to the cause. Religious fundamentalists are really good at this. So are political demagogues. In fiction, I think Robert Jordan does this very well with "the Prophet." Basically, the people most likely to side with you are driven away by your psychotic, unreasoning zeal.

What this environment creates is a boutique industry in commiseration, and it is an industry that cannot allow itself to evolve, lest it become mainstream, clichéd, and ultimately irrelevant. The ministers of commiseration are not (usually) corrupt or disingenuous, so much as clinging uncritically to dogmas that maintain a fixed congregation at the cost of holding back the growth and triumph of their stated cause. And they can brook no dissent... nor loyal opposition... nor even an advocate who goes ever-so-slightly off-message. In Pirsigian terms: they are static social patterns that ultimately suffer stagnation.

In the instant case, that cause is the freeing of young adults from gender stereotypes (or the indoctrination of young adults with radical feminist ideals). The dogmatic ideal into which I stumbled is that, apparently, only women can talk meaningfully about sexism. By mentioning Neal Stephenson's contribution to conquering double standards, I was diverting the revelries! This was, it would seem, a grievous faux pas.

I agreed in principle with the idea that perceiving characters differently because of their gender rather than their thoughts, actions, et cetera, presents a particular literary challenge. That I think the challenge is open to women and men alike rendered my viewpoint invalid in their eyes. Should I call that "reverse sexism," or does that automatically and inappropriately imply something about conceptual primacy of patriarchal sexism? Maybe I should just say that the ladies were excluding me from their clubhouse because my forebears excluded their forebears from a different clubhouse? It's all so confusing!

I guess, in short, I had crashed the feminist's tea-party. Amicably and enthusiastically! But I was wrecking the place up. :-/

(Aside: is this me being guilty of stereotypical male behavior, suggesting various ways to fix a problem when all the females want to do is talk about their feelings and receive affirmation? Or of women being passive-aggressive while I'm confrontational? What a conundrum! Still, that would be a delightfully recursive coup, don't you think?)

Chapter Three: Busted?

So, I shrug and move on. I'm not really anybody worth mentioning; I'd be a little surprised if any of the involved parties ever deigned to read this. I'm just another homemaker-slash-blogger with too many opinions and not enough sense, right? Big, dumb, insensitive me. No wonder I was exiled from the conversation. I cannot possibly know how women feel, and I'm so stupid that I even ask the taboo question how they can know that I don't know how they feel, if they cannot by their own assertions (not mine) possibly know how I feel. See? I'm like a child, asking "why" until they garrote me.

And then I am forced to wonder whether to post this at all, because I'm sure someone will take it all out of context and give my wife grief about it, never mind how grossly out-of-line with feminism that behavior would be. And never mind that she's out of town and has no idea that I'm carping about some of her "co-workers," so to speak. I'm probably in trouble when she gets home. But to crib yet again from Stephenson... the Imp of the Perverse is whispering in my ear. d^_^b

So here I am... pressing the "post" button... in aspect, an Athenian gadfly. Break out your pitchforks and your hemlock, folks. I've got dialectic in one hand and melodramatic philosophy allusions in the other, and I'm not afraid to use them.

I bet there's a cottage industry in commiseration there, too.