My Hero - On "White Knighting" and Shame

I need to say something about the obnoxious and immature insistence some folks have that men who are feminist allies, discuss the toxicity of misogyny in geek/nerd spaces, or have the sheer temerity to remind other men that it is totally within their own control to not be sexist asshats, are being “white knights”: Knock that shit off, it’s embarrassing.

It’s not that “white knights” don’t exist. It’s not that there aren’t some dudes who fancy themselves heroes, striding in to rescue the ladeez from every instance of shittiness like we can’t do that ourselves. Like we haven't been doing that since the dawn of time. Yeah, that's annoying and especially if you're in feminist spaces that kind of thing is generally considering patronizing and deeply sexist in that crappy backhanded way that’s not helpful. We got it, is what I'm saying.

Also, some of these are actually “Nice Guys” masquerading as "white knights", who think being not a creep = automatically getting laid or a cookie or something.  They, like some individual feminists who go too far and “hate” men, exist. However, like the hairy-legged feminazi of myth and legend, the term is flung around regardless of accuracy or relevance, and at any dude who dares defy ingrained and institutionalized sexism publically by pointing out it’s, you know, wrong. The implication is that they’re insincere, being “whipped” in some way, or that silence is somehow MORE supportive because women should just fight this fight on our own.

To me, this argument is exactly like people who claim straight folks shouldn’t speak up about LGBTQ issues, or white people should never unpack racism. You can be part of a privileged group, aware of that privilege, and speak up about its grossness without further marginalizing those who are being directly oppressed. In fact, it’s essential that those with privilege do so because it’s a lot more likely that other people with privilege will listen to them and maybe even change their views. If only those directly impacted by oppression say something it remains “other” and not a real problem the status quo needs to address.

The other thing is, inequality should kind of upset you even if you aren’t part of the group being marginalized. Giving a shit about other people and issues that don’t directly effect you makes you a more decent, compassionate, and empathetic human being. I know some people don’t value those qualities, which is just sad, but if you do then it should make no sense to say silent when you can actively participate in making things better. And, I mean, it kind of feels awesome to be a part of making the world a better place, if you needed some incentive. It’s really warm and fuzzy, like good beer or a fluffy blanket.

Which brings us to the overuse of “white knight” again. While part of the initial concept was about some men assuming women can’t defend themselves without a dude stepping in to hero us away from harm, it’s becoming a kind of catch all for any time a dude says something as simple as “sexism is pretty messed up, let’s not do that, Other Dudes.” Wow! How terrible! I know I suddenly feel all victimized and silenced.

Going a step further, there’s also some sexism inherent in the knee-jerk use of “white knight” to insult men who stand up WITH women. The implication here is that these men are “weaker” than other men. “Real” men, “manly” men, don’t care about stupid things like treating women like fellow human beings. They don’t tell other men to knock that immature, playground bullying behavior off. They don’t admit to finding rape jokes aimed at victims and sexual harassment grotesque, inexcusable and want no part of it. The implication is that men should not stand against misogyny, but be complicit in it through passive silence or direct participation. Otherwise they will be shamed and turned on for having the audacity to break what I can only assume is some unwritten bro-code about never pointing out when another man is being a complete fuckwit.

According to these folks, the only reasons a man might give a shit about misogyny is because he wants to get laid or thinks women can’t handle it themselves. Not because, you know, it’s poisonous as hell and tends to make any community it festers in rank and odious and vile to deal with or be in. It’s not because many men actually find that stuff disturbing and upsetting and wrong. Because it is. And 9 times out of 10 (anecdotally, of course) it’s a dude calling another dude a “white knight”, not a woman. Generally speaking we appreciate it when men stand with us against this crap because we know not all men are gross and awful.  We know they don’t see us as not-really people. It’s usually these other dudes who are fighting tooth and nail against any suggestion that men are capable of more and better. That’s just how they are, man. Misogyny is like, part of every man’s basic makeup. They can’t help it. It’s biology or DNA or something else science-y sounding and not at all complete bullshit.

But, you know, please tell me again how it’s feminists who think men are so terrible.

The truth is that a lot of men are just really tired of other men making their communities cesspits of hate. They don’t appreciate their pastimes, hobbies, fandoms, geekdoms, or work environments being dominated by people who make everyone look stupid and infantile and gross. They’d like you to stop it and are saying so. They’re doing it as much for women as they are for themselves.

That’s not white knighting, that’s being a decent human being. If you can’t see that, it’s you who needs to do some serious thinking and reevaluating of what exactly it is you’d like your life to be about. I don’t think anyone, on their death bed, ever says “Man, I am SO proud of what a horrible, obnoxious, hate-y, jackass I was for the very limited amount of time I had on Earth. Worth it!” Except for maybe Nazis*. And no one wants to be like those guys, right?

The point is that life is limited, it’s finite, it’s not forever. You can choose how you want to participate in it and what you want your life to be about when you do. Those guys you’re so busy calling “white knights” and putting down? They’re having a much better time than you, I can pretty much guarantee it. Not being a hate monger has that side-effect.

*That’s right, I Godwin’d the shit out of this argument. Sue me.

Ramblin'

Rambly updates are rambly. But that's all I've got right now. Too much going on in my head, too much to get done, too much to be excited about, too much to be sad/upset/frustrated with.

The big YAY thing: we're going to London at the end of May! I wanted to do this trip for my 34th birthday which passed a little over a week ago. I didn't really update about it because it's one of those "eh" birthdays. I'm getting older, but I'm not old, and it's not a terribly significant age. 35? Maybe. 40? Probably. But not 34. Granted, there have been HUGE changes in my life in the last year. Living in Germany, what? So, a London trip where I get to actually wander around and see stuff has been on my "things to do before I croak" list since...I was old enough to know I wanted to go places. Probably at like, 4 or 5. Then, a few months back, I was able to be in London for just a day and I completely fell in love.

I'm, without a doubt, an Anglophile. Some of it is hereditary. My entire family, both sides, is British/Irish/Scots. On at least one side only 3rd gen in the U.S., too. So I grew up with a lot of Irish American pride/history/culture. I'm sure it made some friends of mine annoyed, everything was always "Irish, Irish, Irish". My paternal grandmother was also a big British history buff, I think Queen Victoria in particular. She had many friends in London, they lived there for awhile when my father was young post WWII, and they visited quite often when I knew them. They were always bringing back strange things like violet candy, pearled hair nets, and books. They also observed afternoon tea most every day.

British TV also factored hugely in my childhood as we were only allowed to watch PBS for awhile. At the time that meant Sesame Street, Mr. Rogers, a lot of nature shows and Masterpiece Theater. The latter was unquestionably my favorite. The Edward Gorey animation enchanted me, influencing my budding art. I consumed Jeremy Brett's Sherlock Holmes obsessively, fell in love with Miss Marple, and even developed a fondness for Poirot and Inspector Morse. To this day when I think of murder mysteries I think of little old ladies gossiping and knitting. I also died of laughter watching Monty Python (even though a lot of it went over my head), Fawlty Towers, and Black Adder. Looking back on it, a great deal of it was far too sophisticated for little me to properly process, but it solidified a deep sense memory of all things British, including a tendency to lapse into its slang.

So, to say I grew up with a kind fascination with London would be an understatement. Coming out of the tube into Trafalgar Square was...I can't quite describe it, and I should be able to because I'm a writer. Using words to evoke feeling is my job. It was like awe wrapped in joy, holding hands with my wondering childhood self finally realizing a dream I never quite believed I'd manage. It filled my heart up and made it feel warm and light. Like walking into your imagined version of a place and finding the reality more than you thought.

Now, I know London is just a place and it has funky parts and problems and less than savory aspects. But it's still this place that holds magic for me, because I fell in love with it as a child and that kind of magic never really dies. Thank goodness.

So,I can't wait to go. We're staying in the midst of Trafalgar square, minutes from Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, the Thames, and just about everything else you can think of. I plan on having so much tea it'll be like it's blood. That and Guinness.

My Face Hurts

As per usual I am having massive self-doubt issues, which means POETRY.  So, here you go. Welcome to my Brain Goblin Falls.

My Face Hurts

1

We fake and eat the crust of
bright nothings
filled high with sickness so
sweet and red
so delicate and fed
fat with juices of
the monstrous and the dead

who do we plum
cherry, spit?
does heartache fry
leaking, split?
we rotted, shameless, lick
the edge of sanity
infinitely sick



2
ash over and under tongue
thick coat the meat
the pink
the done
i have no spirit
flame or breath
untainted by the
angry memory of flesh



3
plump fast the empty whole of skin
we break the slipping
wishful thin
cut deep the slice and
ache the limb
gnaw on gently
consuming in

if we eat
down straight to bone
we hold to nothing
shaped and stoned
yet still, i eat, becoming red
i will be fatted
i will be fed

Amalthea & Daenerys Targaryen

Pencils of Dany and Amalthea.

Inks of Dany and Amalthea.

 Thought folks might like to see my process when making pieces. Here you can see the progression from pencils to fully painted character portraits. I chose Amalthea from The Last Unicorn and Dany from Game of Thrones because I wanted to work with contrasting palette's, and both characters are particularly marked with white hair. So I wanted to try two different ways of depicting that.

Amalthea color progress, watercolor.

Final Amalthea & Dany, watercolor.

Close on final painted Dany. 

Unexceptional

I am not now, nor have I ever been, "exceptional". There are things I'm good at, I think, and some things I even do quite well...but no one has ever described me as "exceptional" in any meaningful way. I am liked by my friends, respected by colleagues, and I have built a career and reputation that I believe is (hopefully) largely positive, practical, and professional. It's not, however, some kind of wunderkind, published at 20, franchise at 25, meltdown at 30, type of career. It's been pretty steady, really, with ups and downs.

None of this is meant asa negative, exactly, and definitely not in a "Oh, woe unto me, I am not a unique and amazing snowflake!" way. It's more that, this is a truth universally acknowledged, and although my mom frequently likes to call me "brilliant", the grain of salt that goes with that is epic.

I have never excelled at things without working at them, and even then, I don't know that "excel" is a word I'd use anyway. I've done okay at them, or fine. But unless I put in effort, I don't magically do something exceedingly well. I wasn't an overachiever at school. I liked certain subjects (or loved them) and tended to do well in those because I cared and although I was often bored in some classes, I wasn't super advanced, never skipped any grades, and certainly was never even considered for any "gifted & talented" programs. I have no idea what my IQ is, but aside from being relatively sure it's above average, I'm also relatively sure it's well below whatever counts as "genius" or whatever. This has never particularly bothered me. I know people who are certified geniuses, Mensa members, and grade skippers. I've known people who graduated high school early and went to Ivy League colleges. They're all lovely, smart, awesome folks. In the end, though, I'm not sure those things have made their lives any easier or better, nor does any of it define them as people, especially now that they're grown ups who don't have to worry about grade point averages.

I'm sure it's not just my generation, but because the Dot Com Bubble rose and fell when I was in my late teens and 20's, I do think some people my age (myself included) internalized a rather unfair and exceedingly lofty idea of what we should have achieved by, at the latest, 30. You see a few people make a ton of money, or someone get published at 22, and you think: I'm still kind of figuring things out and I'm 25. What's wrong with me? Am I failing? Should I be doing more? Should I give up? What does it all mean?

Fast forward to now, and I am 33, almost 34. I've been working in my field for well over 10 years. And I've worked -hard-. And now, after all that time, I finally feel like I'm doing things I want to be doing, in the ways I want to be doing them, and feeling a certain degree of confidence in those accomplishments. But. Not every day is a success. Not every day is full of awesome offers. Lots of them are frustrating, lots of them are tiring, and lots of them are discouraging. On those days I wonder if I'm the only person who has these thoughts, these fears, these utter flailings of doubtful self-worth. I doubt it. I know a lot of other creative people and have yet to meet one who didn't sometimes think they were utter rubbish at whatever.

On those days I think I'm grateful not to be "exceptional" because that's an added pressure I don't need. I've always had to push myself, to try, to work, to get better. The kind of things that come "easily" to me are not really quantifiable. For instance: I have a knack for understanding stories. Of knowing where they're heading, what they're accomplishing, and what they should do. This is why I can edit other people's work, I can see what they're trying to do and I can help them do it, without putting myself in it or getting in the way. No one would consider that some kind of "gifted" talent or whatever, but it's certainly come in handy for me. It's also allowed me, as a storyteller, to find the voice in my own work and really get at what I'm trying to do with a given story. So that I'm a solid, if not exceptional, storyteller.

So, what's the point of all this? I guess it's to say that writing, art, editing, dancing, whatever it is that you do...it's important that you work at it and it's okay if you're not the Best Ever, or a mad genius. It's more important that you get something out of your work and that it conveys what you want it to, than to worry about whether or not you're some kind of prodigy. Most of us aren't. And we can still do what we love, and do it well.

Austen Forever

A recent post over at Jezebel.com, with the needlessly inflammatory "Is Jane Austen So Popular Because Her Books Are Just Highbrow Twilight?" title left me with a few feels.

1. Ugh, Jezebel, what a bait-y headline. The only reason to do it is to try and get Austenites cranky, and congrats, you did. Well done?

2. The article itself is just sort of...there? I generally like the writer, but this is about as "lite" a comparison as could have been made and required some really lazy generalizations, comparisons, and overall kind of blah writing. The "point" of the article was apparently that Austen's work have become a popular, oft mined "franchises" because of the romance. I strongly disagree and so did just about every other commenter, with incredibly valid, obvious reasons to back those objections up. The writer just didn't bother to consider them and, honestly, if that was the point of the article, it got pretty convoluted when she compared Darcy to Edward like they have -anything- in common other than being male leads. I don't care if Stephanie Meyers is producing a modern story about an Austen fan, that doesn't make Twilight anything like Austen's work. Jennifer Love-Hewitt being in some apparently modern adap of Pride & Prejudice for Lifetime doesn't mean they "get it" either. There's a reason the most popular Austen adaps are usually BBC mini-series, period films, or something like Clueless or Bridget Jones. Because they -don't- just concentrate on the romance. Even though Bridget Jones has some issues, it's mostly about Bridget figuring herself out and that she deserves better in a relationship. And the love story still hinges on them getting to know each other, flaws and all. Anyone who is only reading/watching for the kiss at the end is A. not really a fan of the work B. missing the entire point of it, like completely. I don't know anyone who is actually into Austen's work strictly for the romance. They're in it for the character exploration. I know everyone remembers Colin Firth wearing a wet poofy shirt in the BBC adap all those years ago, but that's not why it was popular and continues to be watched now. It's because it got the WHOLE story in there.

Austen's works are meaningful exploration of characters that also have romances. They don't work without the former. They are also incredibly acerbic, insightful commentaries on human nature, gender, class, and society, cleverly woven into a tight storytelling package. That's what people are invested in.

3. I think the author really lost me on two points:

A. She generalized Darcy as being like Edward (and Christian Grey), as "famously swoonworthy because they're arrogant, aloof babes who are secretly sensitive and end up saving the day when they're unexpectedly overcome by love." Holy shit, NO. Not only does that generalization hold up under no scrutiny whatsoever, it's absurd. Darcy isn't actually "secretly" sensitive. Elizabeth doesn't know about that side of him because she never bothers to find out and she's too busy nursing hurt pride, so she believes Wickham, who's the actual asshole in this scenario. It's not a "secret" so much as someone she would've noticed about his character sooner if she'd been paying attention. That's kind of the whole point of his letter later on when she suddenly realizes she's been unfair and blind. Because she is a flawed character, too.

Darcy is arrogant (or prideful), but then so is Elizabeth in her own way. It's also fairly clear in the book that Darcy has a general dislike of forced social situations and, due to raising his younger sister at a relatively young age, (with, again, a great deal of love and kindness that's obvious to anyone who knows him) he takes himself a little too seriously. That's the sum total of his flaws. As Lizzie later states to Wickham, his essentials do not change, it's her awareness of them that do. Also, Darcy doesn't "save the day" because he's unexpectedly overcome by love. He helps Lizzie's two sisters because he wants to, when he has no hope of her loving him back, after she's already told him where to stick it. Which is a MAJOR difference between Twilight and anything Austen ever wrote. Love is earned, it is NOT instantaneous, and it is never, ever, based on looks. She is highly critical of people who love for superficial reasons.

But perhaps the most important difference between Darcy and those other two; HE'S NOT AN EMOTIONALLY ABUSIVE/MANIPULATIVE STALKERY CREEPSTER. None of Austen's heroe's ever display these traits.  The worst they ever get is a bit prideful and distant if they've been hurt. That's as bad as they get. If you're looking for that, you need to check out Rochester and Heathcliffe (and even then the similarities are highly superficial). 

However, the worst thing the article does is this:

B. " I always found Austen's female characters one-dimensional and lacking in passion and energy;". I just. I can't even. What is this. No.

Aside from the fact that most of her novels directly deal with characters who need to balance sense and passions (Sense & Sensibility is ALL about that, yo, look at the title), describing her characters as "one-dimensional" is objectively wrong. It might be the writers subjective experience, but I seriously have to wonder what she was reading and what mood she was in when she read them. You don't have to like any of Austen's work to know that her female characters are incredibly nuanced. They're also not interchangeable from one another. Lizzie Bennett is not Marianne Dashwood is not Emma Woodhouse is not Fanny Price is not Anne Elliot. And that's just some of her main characters. Her ancillary female characters also run the gamut. Hell, Pride & Prejudice is like a crash course in how many different female characters you can have in one family, let alone in a village and beyond. Austen was, I think, interested more in how people really are than overly dramatic plots. If you want that, the Bronte's are your girls. Expecting Austen to give you that is missing the point of her work.

And I say all this as someone who loves Jane Eyre and some overwrought drama, but Rochester is a HUGE asshole. You'd be excused if you wondered just what Jane sees in him for the majority of the book, because he's kind of really manipulative and shitty a lot of the time. He does "get" her, which is his one redeeming quality. He spends a lot of the book deliberately making her think he loves someone else, just to make her upset. The dude then tricks her into nearly marrying him, and it's only because he gets caught that he comes clean. He's punished for it later, but, you know, that's a seriously dick move. Instead of rising above the hardships in his life he indulges in them and then expects Jane to "fix" them. He only becomes a better man because she leaves. And as much as I respect the ending, the fact that Jane doesn't accomplish things she wanted, like traveling, makes it a little down for me. It is her choice, though, so I can't fault that. 

But in terms of realistic portrayals of layered, multi-dimensional characters, I would hold any of Austen's up to Jane. They may have different dispositions, but they're no less nuanced.

I just can't take a writer seriously who is unable to see past their own biases enough to write that Austen's female characters are "one-dimensional". Which brings me to...

4. A major pet peeve of mine is when people use their personal preferences as an excuse to not "get" a work or a writer, or the value of said work. I'm sorry, but, no. There are plenty of things that are not to my taste that I'm able to recognize as objectively important/worthwhile. I have zero interest in Wuthering Heights and The Age of Innocence, while incredibly important and well written, just doesn't grab me. That's my subjective experience with them, which is in no way an objective "truth". I would never, ever, say either of them were boring or had one-dimensional characters, even if I don't like them, because that would be incredibly obtuse on my part. If you're going to engage in lit critique or comparison, the least you can do is not let your personal preferences completely overtake your ability to be reasonable. What I "like" or "prefer" is not really all that relevant. The work and what it accomplishes is.

5. I'm way over comparing Twilight to every other work written by women that involves romance somewhere in their plots. First of all, it usually results in uncritical link bait, and doesn't do any of the works any justice, including Twilight. Second, it's really easy to dismiss Twilight, but it's probably not a good idea to do so. Millions of girls and women have read it. I may dislike some of the messages and the writing, but it obviously speaks to a lot of people on an emotional level or it wouldn't have become so popular. If you think about it even a little, Bella as a character clearly resonates with how a lot of girls -feel-, which is ignored and boring and plain. Dismiss the relevancy of that at your own peril. Do I personally prefer more "aspirational" or inspiring characters? Yeah. But wer'e not talking about my personal preferences. I read a lot of Piers Anthony and Mercedes Lackey as a teen. I also loved Hamlet.  Teenagers are capable of nuance and variety, I promise.

Is the romance deeply problematic? Hell yes. And that should be discussed often and in depth. But I don't think it necessarily means teen girls are going to emulate it, and in any case, our culture teaches them way more problematic messages than the books, which mainly just mirrors them. You could argue it also perpetuates them, but again, you'd have to acknowledge life in general does as well.

About the only comparison worth making between Twilight and anything else is how superficial it is. It doesn't really explore any issue all that deeply, including love, and is mostly just a lot of teenage navel-gazing. And honestly, that's fine. Not everything needs to have a big deep message. But it also doesn't mean you can compare it to Austen or the Bronte's in any particularly meaningful way, other than showing how much better you can explore human nature, life, death, and love. That doesn't change that some teens may just prefer Twilight for the high drama and angst. They're allowed, being an adolescent sucks, I'm not going to judge them for reading anything. Again, I cite my reading of Piers Anthony as proof-positive that you can read that stuff and turn out just fine.

6. Finally, I'm epically over with people dismissing Austen's work because it's "light". Just because she finds humor in the utter absurdity that is humanity, and didn't write giant tomes about moors and characters who constantly lament their looks, doesn't mean she was any less of a keen observer or commenter.

One of things that I think people forget most about Austen's work: she makes it look easy. So it's also easy to take what she did for storytelling for granted. She was way ahead of her time in a lot of ways, and yet incredibly present and observant of her time. And she did so in a lively, witty, even acerbic way, without having to get overly dramatic. It's probably why I love her work so much, she did NOT rely on heavy, overdone writing to accomplish insightful social criticism and accurate character portrayals. One isn't better than the other, but what she did is deceptively simple -looking-, but actually incredibly difficult to pull off. Her writing is also still very relevant today, with themes and characters we can all recognize easily. Her stories are accessible and there's a reason we're still reading them over 200 years after they were written. Longevity like that is not an accident. 

So to sum up: boo on uncritical lit discussions, yay for Jane Austen and her work still providing insight and wit on the ridiculousness that is humanity to this day. I bet you would've been an awesome tea buddy, Jane. We miss you.

Gnaw

Lately I've been having serious trouble with my eating disorder resurfacing and my body dysmorphia being off the charts. So much so that I honestly had no idea that I hadn't eaten anything in over 12hrs last night when I finally sat down for dinner. It had not occurred to me that the reason I felt shaky and terrible and cranky and on the verge of the crying was, in no small part, due to not eating anywhere near the amount of what I need to live.

This is not uncommon for me and I really hate it. I hate the twisted mental gymnastics I'll do to justify restricting. I hate the obsessive "checking" behavior, the dark and nasty thoughts that become a relentless din. I hate the way I feel like a "better" person when I'm not eating.

But I think what I hate most of all right now is that I think/know I'm kind of fat and I don't want to be, but I can't find any healthy way of losing weight that doesn't trigger all the worst kinds of thoughts and behaviors. And I don't really know how "fat" I am because I can't weigh myself, plus my self-image is so distorted that what I think of as "fat" for me is who knows what in reality. I can't join any of those programs because they rely on calorie counting, exercise tracking, and even food journaling, all of which make me worse, not better. I walk every day now, which is good, but if I don't walk 2 to 3x I start to get angry with myself.

And then there's the binge eating. I absolutely do this. I'll go most of the week without eating very much, then the weekend hits and I can't hold out any more and I end up eating things I probably shouldn't. And it's not even binge eating the way it is for other people, I've seen the movies, I've done the research, I know what I do isn't nearly like what most binge eaters do. But I -feel- out of control and desperate and hungry and awful.

So then I eat. And then I hate.

What all of this always come down to, really, is self-loathing. I know it, deep down. There is this part of me that just desperately, angrily, stubbornly, hates who I am and how I look and it is poisonous and willful and gross.

I call that part Ed, and he's a shitty little Brain Goblin who just will. not. go. away. He's been here, fucking with my head and my body for 20 years. I hate him, but I just can't seem to let him go. Sometimes I think I've shook him loose, but his claws are spiteful hooks. He is tenacious and determined and invested in me being miserable.

Yet, Ed is still really me. A part of me, a part that hates and resents and is ugly and awful and mean to me, always. If Ed was a real person, he'd be the frenemy, the abusive partner, the street harasser, the blight, the cut, the sore that never heals.

If I could pluck him out, I would, and I would stamp his horribleness into oblivion beneath gleefully booted feet. But I can't, or won't, or can't again.

So he sticks here, maddening and capering and gnawing...always gnawing. His teeth, they are sharp and god, do they bite deep.