Women in SF&F Month at Fantasy Cafe
/Check out what Jacqueline Carey, author of the Kushiel's Legacy series, has to say about women in epic fantasy on today's Women in SF&F post.
Read MoreCheck out what Jacqueline Carey, author of the Kushiel's Legacy series, has to say about women in epic fantasy on today's Women in SF&F post.
Read MoreLast week, I was reading a YA novel that was a little dark, but had interesting characters and twists, and seemed to promise some redemption for the troubled MC as his character developed throughout the story. Then a violent sexual assault occurred out of nowhere, in fairly graphic detail, and I felt as if I'd been assaulted myself.
It's been troubling me ever since. I write some particularly graphic scenes in my own books, and I got to worrying that I might be needlessly traumatizing my readers. I'd hate to think that anyone reading my books would end up feeling the way I did last week (and still feel; those kinds of images stay with me for a long time).
While I was ruminating over this, I came across a blog post by a former Harry Potter fan who felt J.K. Rowling had betrayed the reader by killing off characters she liked. The blog author seemed to feel that writers do terrible things to their characters merely out of sadism, and that they enjoy traumatizing their readers for an emotional reaction. For that reader, Harry didn't need to experience the losses he did to become who he was.
That conclusion struck me as rather odd. What would the Harry Potter books be like if Harry never experienced trauma or loss? In my opinion, they'd be pointless.
But how much trauma and loss is enough? What does an author owe her readers in this writer-reader contract? When is trauma too much or unnecessary?
Thinking back over the graphic scenes in my books, I'm still not sure of the answer. But the scene I read last week that blindsided me seemed unmotivated and unrealistic, and I hope that mine are not. If a sudden, violent sexual assault occurred in the middle of the Harry Potter series, for instance, that would be a violation of the contract. It would serve no purpose. Was the scene I read the same? Not entirely; it wasn't completely out of the bounds of what might occur in these characters' lives, but there was no motivation for it, and no reason to go into such detail for a secondary character's point of view.
One of my favorite authors, Jacqueline Carey, does some pretty brutal things to her characters, but those events are what makes those characters who they are. You can't fall hopelessly in love with Imriel de la Courcel in Kushiel's Scion without the unspeakably awful things that shaped his life. (And, boy, did I fall hopelessly in love with him!)
I'm not sure where the balance lies between needless violence and trauma that's true to the story. Maybe it's only in the eye of the beholder. Plenty of people love the Harry Potter series, despite the loss of beloved characters. But at least one reader felt those losses were cruel and unacceptable. There are many positive reviews on Goodreads of the YA novel I was reading (and will not be finishing), but there were a significant number who hated it as well.
Whether people love my books or hate them, I just hope no one ever feels that I'm manipulating them as a reader. Whatever trauma I throw my characters' way, I hope I'm fulfilling my end of the contract.
Lately I've been wondering how much boffing is too much boffing for traditional fantasy. Because right now my WIP seems to need a cold shower.
I've always had a bit here and a bit there in everything I write, but really, I'm not writing erotic fantasy. I may even have erred on the side of caution in some of my books for fear of bringing too much sparkly-girldom into my fantasy, because heaven forfend my future fans upset the status quo at sf/f cons by having, you know, vaginas.
And yet even as romantic vampires are supposedly ruining conventions all across America, we have columnists like Ginia Bellafante in her recent review of HBO's Game of Thrones telling us no self-respecting woman could possibly enjoy traditional fantasy, and that if we like it it's because it's been "sexed up" and we ren-faire losers are too stupid to notice we're being fed pablum to keep the boys happy.
Meanwhile, self-hating-woman columnist Liz-something of the Daily Mail tells all of us stupid boorish sex-positive feminists that women pretty much hate sex and only do it to get a man to take care of us. So really, HBO can't possibly be engaged in imaginary sexing-up of George R.R. Martin's writing to get women to watch, cuz we're all frigid. (Welcome to somewhere in an orange and avocado polyester jumpsuit in 1972, and grab yourself a valium and a vodka tonic because the last 40 years were all in your head.)
It all has me a little confused. Do I dance around the sex to avoid being accused of (gasp!) writing for women readers or do I sex it up for the hordes of Lifetime watchers I might be able to lure into the genre?
The problem is, I keep doing this silly little thing where I write what I enjoy reading. And right now in The Palace of Wisdom, all of my characters are going at it like they're at a South of Market sex club in San Francisco on a Saturday night.
But maybe it's okay, because Jacqueline Carey has a fabulous anal scene in Kushiel's Justice. Whether it's because women writers and readers are tarnishing fantasy's good name or not, it looks like the sex kitten is out of the bag.
And now as bonus post-script eye candy, and apropos of nothing, Maroon 5's Adam Levine seems to have a little something Belphagorian going on:
Thanks to the lovely ladies at Cup o' Porn for turning me on to this yumminess. ;)
Jane Kindred is the author of the Harlequin Nocturne series Sisters in Sin and of epic fantasy series The House of Arkhangel’sk, Demons of Elysium, and Looking Glass Gods. She spent her formative years ruining her eyes reading romance novels in the Tucson sun and watching Star Trek marathons in the dark. She now writes to the sound of San Francisco foghorns while her cat slowly but surely edges her off the side of the bed.