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“Has or Is a Mystical Artifact”
A month or so ago overthinkingit.com (a site whose project I greatly admire) posted a “Strong Female character” detour chart that documented many of the tropes in cinema (video games, animation, and movies) that female characters participate in which deter them from being realized powerful feminist symbols. (the chart can be seen here: http://www.overthinkingit.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/Overthinking-It-Female-Character-Flowchart.png) For the most part I am sympathetic to such an infographic, although on further consideration a few things have bothered me about it. I have been wont to use the “Strong Female Character” classification in certain essays on this site (the Bayonetta essay, for example) but I’m thinking of retiring the phrase because, as a friend from the New School points out, there is something inherently anti-feminist and a little nauseating about a classification like “strong female character.” A deconstruction of such a phrase would show that it implies an inherent weakness in women that needs to be defied; we never classify men as “strong male characters” because, culturally, it just seems redundant: male characters are assumed to be strong and females are assumed to be weak. By participating in the methodology of classification which utilizes “strong female characters” we reinforce these cultural assumptions: we shouldn’t be worried about whether a character is male or female, or strong or weak despite or because of their gender: only whether or not they are pernicious or praiseworthy.
That being said, I am about to engage in a (somewhat cursory) analysis of a few examples of one of the tropes listed on the “Female Character Flowchart,” specifically the “Has or Is a Mystical Artifiact trope. I will be examining, specifically, the use of the trope in the anime series Witch Blade (not the comic books, of which I have only read a few). Through a close (albeit quick) reading of Witch Blade (with tangential references to a few other examples of the “Has or Is a Mystical Artifact” trope I would like to prove that the “mystical artificat” acts as a supplement to female power and more often than not undermines a feminist project instead of reinforces one. This may seem counter-intuitive to critics who would like to praise characters like LeeLoo (sp?) (from the Fifth Element) and Buffy, but I think a closer examination might be warranted.
My use of the word supplement is intentionally obfuscating. I use supplement knowing the Derridian criticisms and problematics of the word: supplement, contradictorily, means an addition to something and a replacement for a lack of something. I take a vitamin supplement to add to the vitamins I already have in my body but also because I lack the proper amount of vitamins needed for health. In fantasy literature, the mystical artifact, especially when possessed or represented by a woman, is a supplement to the characters power. It adds to the power of the character, but also replaces a lack of power. A lack of power (in females) which (culturally, obviously, supposedly, implicitly) is derived from a lack of a penis.
So characters that this would include are: Buffy (and, of course, Faith and Kendra), LeeLoo, Masane (of Witchblade), and any of the Sailor Scouts. We might want to see these characters as celebrations of the feminist project: they are women who are physically strong and independent, doing good, and protecting the world. In a less feminist minded world these characters couldn’t even exist. And yet, they too are problematic. These characters posses magical powers that they inherited, the power was not developed in them by working towards it, nor did they have it naturally. Of course, once they posses the power, they work towards mastering it; “mastering” often in the psychoanalytic sense, mastering so as not to be bothered/hurt by the power. Buffy and Masane are probably the two more interesting examples in the above list because one would be quick to assume that these characters are pretty positive symbols of feminism in a blatantly phallocentric world: they are girls who kick ass. And that assumption is pretty fair: but the idea that these character need mystical powers in order to kick ass undermines the immediate assumption that the characters are strong by themselves. Buffy and Masane are also interesting because they have inherited powers that only women can inherit: males cannot become Slayers, only women can posses the Witchblade. Our immediate reaction might be that because women are more powerful they can receive such powerful gifts, thus delivering a feminist message, but a closer analysis might prove otherwise.
(I understand it is a bit contentious to claim that Buffy Summers is not exactly a feminist character; for the most part she is. What I am saying is that her status as a kind of mystical artifact, when considered closely, sort of undermines a lot of what might be construed as a feminist message: Buffy’s power is often not her own power, it comes from somewhere else, it was given to her by men. It was given, specifically, to women by men, possibly because the men saw the women as in need of power, they needed power because they had no power of their own.)
(Now, the question of why I sat through Witchblade is starting to make its appearance. For some reason, perhaps because I found the series so incredibly problematic to a feminist project, I sat through the whole 26 episode mediocre series. It became a nightly ritual and every night I found myself increasingly frustrated, hence this essay A quick summary of the series might be in order: Witchblade takes place in post-apocalyptic Japan. A woman wakes up after a devastating earthquake to find herself randomly bequeathed with the powers of the Witchblade, an ancient weapon that possess women with great magics and eventually destroys them. An evil weapons manfacturer is trying to get their hands on the Witchblade for nefarious profit. Blah blah blah, pretty generic stuff.)
Within the anime, there is even a sub-plot about the Douji Group (said weapons manufacturer) attempting to create an Ultimate Blade, a weapon even more powerful than the Witchblade because it can be wielded by a man. This seems to suggest that the Witchblade (and the clone blades, copies of the Witchblade, which only women can wear) make up for a lack in the woman: they are designed to help the helpless gender. (There is a counterargument to be made here: the one male equipped with the Ultimate Blade is driven insane from the power: he cannot handle the power, only women can. This would be a fine objection except that the women who possess clone blades become equally psychotic or just shatter. Power, in Witch Blade, destroys, period.) Like the Slayers before her, Masane finds herself given a gender-specific power that makes up for an assumed absence: these women are not powerful before, they can not be powerful before, but are once they are given greater magics. And like the Slayers, this power will eventually destroy her, because women, clearly, just can’t handle such power.
Witchblade is problematic because the nature of the weapon is also overtly sexual (unlike the powers given to the Slayer). Masane already is a particularly fetishized anime character: her breasts are comically large and she is often portrayed as adorably klutzy a la Usagi of Sailor Moon. The Witchblade, when it activates, strips the wearer of her clothing and forms a scanty amount of organic armor over her naked body, revealing her breasts and booty. (Yeah, booty, I said it.) In Witchblade form, the wearer is overcome with violent urges which are overtly sexualized: Masane licks her lips while fighting her enemies, and moans orgasmically while delivering her finishing blow. (ha-Ha! Finishing blow!) There is always a problem when depicting an ass-kicking female: is this character only and always already a fulfillment of some heterosexual male dominatrix fantasy? Can a woman only posses massive power if that power is of a sexual nature? Can we only conceive of female power (or any power at all?) as sexual power? Are we (the assumed heterosexual male audience) only capable of understanding female power as sexual power, because any other kind of power just seems so ridiculous?
(As a sidenote, there is one particularly great detail in the Witchblade costume: Masane’s legs are covered in the Witchblade armor, as are her feet, but the high heels are blades. I know it’s super fetishy, and I could probably write a whole essay about that detail alone [the fetishizing of feet, the fetishizing of blades/violence, the necessity of attractive women to be in footwear that would practically incapacitate the wearer] but, anyway, pretty cool!)
Importantly, Masane is a mother and, unlike Buffy, has responsibility for a child. (Although, Buffy does get Dawn to protect, which is sort of like having a daughter?) The plot largely revolves around Masane juggling her duties as a freelance mercenary (in Witchblade form) and taking care of her child. Is this some kind of metaphor for a working woman? Masane isn’t a particularly good parent, she is an alcoholic and gives her child to greater authorities at least 2 times in the series because she feels unfit, and yet we are supposed to see her as a feminist symbol, just because she can kick ass? And, what of the ending? (SPOILER ALERT AHEAD!) The last scene of the series literally depicts Masane sacrificing her life in order to save her daughter, and all of Tokyo. But what is the gendered message we are supposed to get from this? That mothers literally need to sacrifice their life, independence, and personality in order to be seen as responsible? That is hardly a feminist message.
If we want to find a better feminist character in these series, we must often look askance from the main characters. Anyone who is a devout Buffy addict knows that Buffy isn’t the real power in Sunnydale, Willow is. Willow is the one who can save or destroy the world on a whim, and Willow did not randomly inherit her power, she worked towards it through the seven seasons. (There is an argument to be made that power came more easily to Willow than to other witches, but I still think this is besides the point.) Willow’s power is not supplemental in the way that the Slayer’s power is: Willow’s power is her power, plain and simple. Masane, too, is not the most interesting character from a feminist perspective: Mariko, Masane’s landlord, is. Mariko is an overweight bartender who reluctantly rents a room to Masane and her daughter. While Masane is off on missions, Mariko is the one that takes care of Masane’s daughter, and after the credits roll on episode 26, Mariko is probably the one who will take care of Masane’s daughter. Mariko is not particularly attractive, no one lusts after her, and yet she is the only character who seems to have a real grip on life: she is running a successful restaurant and bar, managing property, taking care of a child that isn’t hers, and is the “mother” figure to all of her tenants. Mariko is the one who encourages Masane to save the day. Mariko has no mystical power, but is the only character with any fortitude, possibly in the whole damn series.
Leeloo, despite or because of her status as a mystical artifact, is sort of guilty for playing this role. Leeloo’s Jean Paul Gaulthier designed outfits are often revealing and hyper-sexualized, rendering her as a fairly titillating object for the male gaze. The costuming alone leads some more feminist minded critics to dismiss her outright. But Leeloo might be more praiseworthy than Buffy and Masane: Leeloo may be a magical being, her power is inherited, but she is a “perfect” being, perfection is female in this world. The final scenes of the movie, in which Leeloo must act as the fifth element to save the world from destruction, lend some people to conclude that the movie is anti-feminist: Leeloo can’t save the world by herself, she needs a man (Bruce Willis) to be complete. And yet, if we are more faithful to the text, is this reading fair? Does Leeloo need a man to be complete, or does she need love? Would it have mattered if Leeloo fell in love with another woman? Is the fifth element gender specific? Does her love just happen to be male this time around? We might want to dismiss the movie for giving her a hetero-normative love object and thus satisfying the hetero-normative gaze, and yet, there is room for feminism here.
(The questions from my Bayonetta essay remain at play: Can mediums made predominantly by heterosexual males for predominantly heterosexual male audiences ever actually create realistic female characters? Should heterosexual males even bother trying to do so? Who is more guilty of fetishizing these characters, the creators or the audience? How do we go about fixing it?)
Ultimately, I do end up agreeing with the creators of the chart: the “Has or is a mystical artifact” trope is an easy way to portray a female character without really having to think about writing them well, giving them multiple dimensions, and making sure they are realistic. But, before we go about praising or dismissing characters, we should look closer into the machinations of the trope.
P.S. - Would any readers out there be interested in me developing these ideas further? I have more to say but it is 3am and I still have a 20 page psychoanalysis paper due. I would be happy to keep going if a request is issued!
P.P.S- The walls in my apartment are paper thin and I can hear my neighbor snoring. That is why I am up writing this. I can not sleep. I want to die.
-eric
