Sherlock Goes Sexist: Arthur Conan Doyle is Very Disappointed

This piece was originally composed for SPARK.

Sometimes when I’m watching a movie or television show, or reading a book and I really dig the narrative, I come to a moment where I can suddenly, vividly picture the story going in a direction that would ruin the whole darn thing. As someone who tends to have feminism on the brain, this imagined turn for the worse involves doing something pointless and stereotypical with a previously well done female character. Luckily, I rarely see my fear realized, not because TV, movies and books aren’t often sexist, but because I’m pretty picky about what I view/read in the first place and most well constructed narratives don’t suddenly spring sexism on you. So I found myself feeling particularly betrayed when a TV show that I trusted recently went all out ridiculously sexist on me, and that it dared to do so via an “adaptation” of one of my favorite proto-feminist narratives of all time.

The show in question is the BBC’s Sherlock, an adaptation of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes stories, re-set in 21^st-century London. It’s a miracle that I was actually a loyal viewer of the show in the first place, because I am a huge fan of the original books, and I tend to be the pickiest of super fans. I have never liked an adaptation of the Sherlock Holmes stories, and that is saying something, because they are the most frequently adapted stories in Western media.  I initially bristled at what seemed like a gimmicky re-boot, but when I actually watched the first season, I loved it. This was 90% due to the brilliant casting of Benedict Cumberbatch as the titular detective. He looked the proper age for the actually quite young detective, he had the height and the hair, and he played the role perfectly. The show also hit on the thematic/character arcs present in the books but lacking in most adaptations, and the mysteries seemed written by Doyle, with just the right balance of mood, action and intrigue. I was hooked, and when I heard that series creator Steven Moffat would be moving the show in a new direction in the second season, forgoing original mysteries for more direct, albeit expanded adaptations of actual Doyle mysteries, I was cautiously optimistic. Overall, I was looking forward to what they would do with the season two premiere, an adaptation of A Scandal in Bohemia, Doyle’s wonderfully feminist short story. After all, with the show’s solid record, I could trust them with the amazing Irene Adler, right?

Wrong. It seems that with “A Scandal in Belgravia,” Sherlock decided that it couldn’t continue that whole faithfulness and respect for the source material thing, because that would just be boring. After all, what does A Scandal in Bohemia have to offer but a brilliant, competent, and aloof heroine in Irene Adler? And we all know that women who are simply smart and powerful just don’t fit in on television. They need to be incredibly sexy too. Let’s make Irene Adler a dominatrix! What a great idea! This is of course, my imagined writing room dialogue as season two was being put together. I have a feeling it’s pretty accurate.

Okay, some background. 1891’s A Scandal in Bohemia had Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson trying to retrieve a photograph from a Miss Irene Adler. Adler, an American adventuress and acclaimed opera singer, is using the photo to blackmail the King of Bohemia, who is by all evidence a jerk, and probably deserves it. Holmes, prior to the story, harbored some pretty sexist ideas regarding the intelligence, or in his opinion, lack thereof, of women. He thinks the case is open and shut and comes up with a foolproof plan to get the photos back. Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t account for Miss Adler being brilliant; smarter than him, actually. With some clever gender bending undercover work, she beats Holmes at his own game and wins the day. Holmes is impressed, relinquishes himself of his sexist assumptions, and ends up as close to in love as his personality could ever allow. It’s pretty awesome.

Sherlock, upon being outsmarted, mentally transitioning from shock to appreciation. 

Now, let’s examine the way Moffat & Co. have adapted the story. Ms. Adler is no longer American, which I’m okay with, but she has also gone from an adventuress and the toast of La Scala to a dominatrix. Now, before anyone jumps on me for being anti-sex/sex work, let me assure you that I have no problem with a real woman choosing to be a dominatrix or anything else for that matter. But this is a work of fiction. And the person or people who decided to make Irene Adler a dominatrix may hide behind the excuse that she is an “empowered woman using her sexuality to her own advantage,” but they honestly chose to do it because it means leather and lace and the chance to sexualize Irene. Also, the chance for her to introduce herself to Sherlock in the nude. That was a nice touch.

"But, she was just trying to distract Sherlock! He reads things from people's clothes." Yes, Holmes gathers information based on a person's clothes, but he also reads the rest of them to. The show was clearly trying to go for that tired cliche of a woman gaining power by flabbergasting a man with her sexuality. The original Irene easily defeated Holmes with her clothes on.

So, once the show takes Irene Adler and has her wear nothing or next to nothing and make awkward sex noises, how much worse could things get? Much worse. Irene seems smart, but it turns out she is mostly dependent on her employer, Moriaty, for her success. (What is with this trend, also seen in the recent Sherlock Holmes film, of making Miss Adler an agent of Moriaty? Why can’t she be an independent force?) Furthermore, Irene doesn’t in fact win in the end, because all her delicate lady emotions get in the way. She’s just too in love with Sherlock! There is also a very damsel in distress rescue at the very end that is just all around terrible. Let’s not forget that while she is flirtatious in the original story, Irene never falls for Holmes. She goes off to America and gets married, and the detective is the one with the swoony disposition and her portrait on his mantelpiece.

I understand that sexualized female characters on television are a dime a dozen, and for a viewer not familiar with the original source material, the amount of character assassination at work in A Scandal in Belgravia might just go over their heads. It’s a shame, because the fact that the series chose to take its first major departure from Doyle’s characters with Irene says a lot about what our current media expects of women. Yes, women can be powerful, but that power must be expressed in an inherently sexual way. Yes, women can be smart, but they are also more emotional than men and therefore not equally brilliant. And they usually need some rescuing. It’s pretty ironic that these antiquated messages are actually a revision of a text from the 19^th century! I gather from his treatment of Irene Adler, as well as the many other smart, capable, and badass women who appear throughout the Holmes stories, that Doyle had progressive ideas regarding gender. What does it say about our current media, that our narratives are taking a step back?

If this is such a pervasive problem, why am I signaling out Sherlock? My being an SH fangirl is a contributing factor, but I find that this instance of sexualization is a particularly helpful example of where the problem lies. As an adaptation, one can compare both narratives side by side and see exactly what the writers thought needed to be changed about Irene. She had to be sexier, more emotional, and she had to lose. That’s our current culture’s expectations of women and girls in a nutshell. 

A Sexist in Belgravia

Yes, I know this is not an accurate portrayal of the smart, competent, and non-sexualized Hermione Granger. J.K. Rowling writes Hermione as a nuanced character, an equal to her male counterparts. Likewise, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle approached Irene Adler as a proto-feminist equal to his male heroes. In fact, she bested them. Her aloof victory was the whole point of A Scandal in Bohemia. 


The original Sherlock Holmes stories have had their true nature consistently overshadowed by a century or so of uneven adaptions. Therefore, to a lot of viewers relatively unfamiliar with the original, A Scandal in Belgravia may not seem an obvious travesty. By doing what was done to Irene with a better known character, artist BeFine perfectly illustrates why we should all be very upset. I really liked Steven Moffat's take on Sherlock, based on season one. As I am one picky Sherlock Holmes super fan, that's saying something. I was NOT pleased with the season two premiere. BeFine hit the nail on the head with this one. Stay tuned, as I have so much more to say on the character assassination Moffat brought upon the wonderful Miss Adler.

What the MiniFig?!

When I'm not happily offering my feminist (over)analyses of my favorite fandoms for you lovely folks, I'm busy offering my more general feminist perspectives as a blogger for the ever-awesome SPARK. My latest gender in the media rant had a bit of thematic crossover, so I thought I'd share. 


Lego Builds the Wrong Message For Girls

I speak from personal experience when I say that to be “media aware” is to open oneself up to the possibility of being infuriated every day. It’s actually a pretty invigorating experience, but I find that since I’m a pretty positive person, I cannot allow every sexist or sexualizing thing to seriously bother me. Otherwise, I would be in a constant state of mental and/or verbal ranting.

When some new piece of media does come up that royally pisses me off, it’s interesting to think about what exactly about it struck a nerve. In the case of the announcement of the new Lego Friends line, I’m pretty darn steamed. And I know exactly why. To summarize; Lego, which up until recently tended to rely on licensing from pre-existing franchises to furnish it’s more narrative oriented products, (Star Wars, Batman, and Harry Potter, to name a few), has recently embarked on a new direction for their toys. While they aren’t giving up on movie partnerships, they are looking to market more Lego exclusive characters and stories. As a part of this new direction, the brand has embarked on its greatest departure from its previous MO with Lego Friends, a product line for girls, or as Lego CEO Jorgan Vig Knudstorp puts it, “We want to reach the other 50% of the world’s population.” The new Lego figures look drastically different from the toy’s traditional “minifigs.” They are taller, skinnier and they have boobs. They will be marketed to girls five and up. Why? Because, referring to the blocky figure of old, the Lego executive VP of Marketing Mads Nipper said, “Let’s be honest; girls hate him.” Hmm…..I was unaware that the proper pronoun when referring to Princess Leia and Hermione Granger was “him.”

The whole thing really pisses me off for two pretty blatant reasons. First of all, there is the awkward Barbie-fication at work here. I was never a Legos kid, not because I wanted my figurines to have boobs, but because I didn’t like all the assembly required before I could start staging battles and cowboy adventures. Playmobile was more my speed. The only appeal I can personally see in Legos is the hilarious, boxy figures of its characters. They all look the same, with their only curves bizarrely situated below their pelvises. Sure, the minfigs are weird looking, but that’s the point. To beautify them is completely anathema to the Lego brand.

And who is to say girls hate them? I’m guessing Lego arrived at that conclusion after some focus group fun. Which brings me to my next point of anger. Marketers and ad execs and Hollywood and just about everyone else in the media are so busy insisting that women and girls, 50% as Lego puts it, are not interested in what they are selling unless it is pink or cute or a romantic comedy or on Lifetime. But they say this even as they refuse to market their products to the women and girls they are so certain will not like them! Who populates commercials for Legos? Boys! Where in the toy store can you find them? “The boy’s aisle.” So no wonder girls won’t buy your products!

Having been in the education field throughout my college and post-grad life, I can speak from personal experience and assure you, Lego, that girls do like minifigs. They also like Star Wars and Harry Potter, and they like being creative and making up stories that involve adventures and good and evil and things blowing up. But if you keep on excluding them from your marketing vision, soon they will start to believe that they would rather have hot tubs and little plastic boobs. If your research is correct, many of them already have. And if that happens, some girls might miss out on all the fantastic, adventurous imaginative play that only comes around once a childhood. The part of me that still fondly remembers epic Lego vs. Playmobile battles with my sister and cousin, is pretty royally pissed off.

Are you pissed too? Well, I have good news. First, Lego is listening. Sort of. They actually responded to my blog via twitter, which is more then can be said of most of the companies SPARK addresses. Second, you can join our "Bring Back Beautiful" campaign on the Lego Facebook page and tell them you want them to start including girls in their regular product line! Just post this fantastic retro ad and share your thoughts. And please sign the petition!

Star Wars, Gender, and the Bechdel Test

Over the past three weeks, I’ve taken a feminist look at the Star Wars trilogy, particularly at the films’ construction of Princess Leia. Now let’s take a step back and look at two questions central to gender construction in narrative.

First question, do the Star Wars films pass the Bechdel test? The test is a simple way to measure equal representation of gender in a narrative. It comprises three questions. Are there more than one female character? Are those female characters named? Do they speak to each other? If they do, do they talk about something other than a man? The test is not perfect. An otherwise sexist narrative could pass and an otherwise feminist narrative could fail. But it is a good litmus test for how well a narrative reflects the fact that women compose over half the human population, live lives, and have social relationships with other women.

So, does Star Wars pass? Short answer, no, with a but. Long answer yes, with an if.

Long answer first! Princess Leia dominates the narrative so much so that it is easy to forget that she is the films’ primary female character. Other than Leia, the films feature only two more women with speaking roles, Luke’s Aunt Beru, in Episode IV and Mon Mothma in Episode VI. Beru and Mothma are both supporting characters, and they never engage in conversation with other women. Among the protagonists, Leia is the sole woman among two men. Three if you count Lando, four if you count Chewie. And among the villains? Let’s just say there are too many dicks on the Death Star. Therefore, no,  Star Wars does not pass the Bechdel test, but….Leia is an incredibly awesome and well constructed female character with a massive role in the narrative. And the Star Wars trilogy is relatively light on main characters. The droids and aliens are mostly something for the humans, who get all the development, to play off of. And the films utilize the popular two guys and a girl dynamic seen in Harry Potter and countless fantasy/adventure narratives.[1] I keep trying to imagine ways the narrative could have featured more female characters, but I only end up turning some Imperial officers into women and it seems sort of pointless. The fact is, I love the story and characters as they are. I never want to imagine a different version, even if it does have more women. I guess that's just my fangirl weakness. [2] So I’ll accept Star Wars for the narrative and characters that I love and approach it as the best Bechdel fail ever.

Now for the short answer. Yes the Star Wars films do pass the Bechdel test, if we count the prequels. I agree with most original trilogy fans that the prequels suck, and I don’t watch them. But I do think the events they depict are canon to the narrative. The films didn’t suck because the general story arc and world building they came up with was bad,[3] but because they were essentially explanatory footnotes on screen. They wouldn’t have worked cinematically even if the dialogue sang like Pulp Fiction. But in the prequels, we get even more named female characters, and they talk to each other about things other than a man. Since I’m looking at the original trilogy only, I can’t say that the films pass the Bechdel test, but the story does.

Try to say this is not exactly what Leia's mom would look like.

Now for question two. Does Star Wars take place in a sexist world? This is a vital question to ask of fantasy narratives, but it is often overlooked. I never even considered it until my best friend and fellow feminist fangirl pointed it out to me. In reference to George R.R. Martins books, she complained, “You have dragons and snow zombies, but how unrealistic if women were to be treated as equals!”[4] Another feminist friend of mine summed it up nicely. “It’s funny, most popular fantasy novels are all set in alternate medieval societies or dystopian societies and they’re almost always patriarchal. Why is that? It’s a fantasy novel, you’re creating the world! I want to write a novel that has better messages than ‘this is inevitable.’” The fact that so many authors and creators assume that patriarchy and sexism be expected of humans in any environment is quite depressing. So I will insist on asking this question of all my favorite fantasy stories, even if the answer is usually yes.

Except, once again for Star Wars, it’s complicated. Short answer, no, with an if. Long answer, yes, with a but. Women in Star Wars don’t appear to face limitations on education, political, and military leadership. And most people in-verse don’t seem surprised to find women in power. But this happy answer only applies if we consider a world without sexism to be simply a world in which women have equal rights and access to opportunities. But we all know it’s not that simple. If a world is to be truly non-patriarchal, it has to be a world in which no one thinks to oppress women or harbors sexist thoughts.

The fact is, the Empire is all dudes, so I’m going to assume they don’t like women.[5] Jabba objectifies his female slaves (although objectification could still exist as an injustice applied to both men and women in a gender equal world). And in Episode IV, Han expresses his annoyance with Leia by saying “If we can avoid anymore female advice…”[6] So, based on the fact that some jerks[7] can do or say sexist things, we have to assume that at least some of the planets and societies in Star Wars were at one point arranged in a patriarchal gender hierarchy. These origins explain why some individuals and institutions are sexist, even as the larger society appears to have moved past it. It’s not perfect, but the latter fact alone is far better than what many fantasy narratives offer us. And considering that the original films were made in the late 70’s and early 80’s, even a mostly gender equal world is really impressive.


And so we conclude our Star Wars feminist fun! Next week, check in for a little holiday cheer.

   

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[1]More specifically, the popular three characters dynamic. The gender ratio varies.

[2] OR, Wedge Antilles, though he is awesome, could have been an equally awesome woman and it wouldn’t have affected the plot at all!

[3] They actually really deepen the events and themes of the trilogy.

[4] I love me some Martin, don’t get me wrong. And, yes, I will cover his works.

[5] That, or EVERY woman in the galaxy sympathizes with the Rebellion.

[6] Don’t worry. Leia doesn’t let that comment slide.

[7] And people with a bad past and no mother figure. Sorry, but I can’t dislike Han.

We Interrupt Your Star Wars for a Special Crappy Bulletin

Twilight: Breaking Dawn Part I

I know, I know. Why am I doing this? Why am I even implying that Twilight, those glorified dime store romance novels, are part and parcel with general fandom awesomeness? I’m not. I have heard it argued that the geek community needs to be kinder to Twilight fans, because they are geeks too. I must first say that I have never met another person with legitimately geeky interests who didn't also hate Twilight, and I don’t think any level of community should keep something so laughable, terrible, and downright misogynist safe from its due ridicule and criticisms. And yes, I am aware that, by now, all the bad writing and creepy, patriarchal, religious subtext has been thoroughly discussed. And I am also aware that the most recent film has been out for weeks now and is, thus, old hat. But I have just one last thing to share. Many women in their early twenties, like me, have been called out for criticizing Twilight because we are not part of it's audience. “Pre-teen girls love it,” we’re told, “They are merely expressing a new generations desire for angst-ridden love that glamorizes being a quiet, sad, unassuming girl.” I have heard these exact arguments before. So, here is a review of the new Twilight film. It is by a 13 year-old girl. And she doesn't  think this is a story her generation needs to hear.

Breaking Dawn: Part One Review

By Izzy Labbe

I’m not going to lie. In fact, I’m going to be 100% truthful when I say the latest movie in the crazy-popular Twilight saga, “Breaking Dawn: Part One” is pretty far up there on the list of the most disturbing movies I have ever seen.

Not only is it disgusting, graphic, scarring, and way beyond its unfitting PG-13 rating, “Breaking Dawn” is exceedingly sexist.

For all those unfamiliar with the Twilight saga, let me sum it up briefly for you: An “average” girl named Bella Swan moves from her mother’s Arizona home to live with her father in rainy, gloomy Forks, Washington. There she gets the attention of Edward Cullen, who is of course, a tall, handsome teenage boy that all the girls in school like. They fall madly and passionately in love, but it turns out that Edward is a vampire, which would probably scare the pants off any normal person. Bella, though, is so in love that she doesn’t care what Edward is, which would be quite sweet, if he weren’t a ravenous monster who wants to eat her.

The story line gets a little more complicated when Jacob Black comes in, who is also just an “average” teenage boy, who just happens to be tall, handsome, werewolf. Oh, yeah. And he’s also in love with Bella.

So after three long books and millions of dollars in grossing, we’re left with the last book/movie, “Breaking Dawn: Part One”, the beginning of the end. Bella and Edward are now engaged, and after a lavish wedding, they find themselves on their honeymoon, in a small Brazilian island that the Cullens own (did I happen to mention that they’re incredibly rich?).

So, basically, they have an average honeymoon. Here’s where it gets disturbing: Since Edward is a vampire, he’s a lot stronger than Bella, who is still just a human. So he ends up badly bruising and hurting her, which she thinks is normal. Then she becomes pregnant with a demonic vampire fetus, and it all goes downhill from there.

As the vampire baby grows inside of her, she gets weaker and skinnier, and scarier, until she looks like Zelda from “Pet Cemetery”, which is to say, a bag of bones and skin. Except, she’s pregnant.

As she grows weaker, the baby, who is literally sucking the life out of her, gets hungrier. So what does she do to nutrition her little bundle of joy? She drinks human blood out of a soda bottle.

After breaking all of the bones in her body, this baby is finally ready to come out, many months prematurely. Knowing that the baby could kill Bella if she delivered it normally, they just end up stabbing Bella’s swollen, bruised stomach with a scalpel and literally ripping the baby from inside of her. At this point, Bella is dying. And yet she still wants to see and hold her baby, which Edward allows her to do. And then her little baby girl bites her breast, and Bella dies.

Seriously.

At this point in the movie, I was close to vomiting. Not to worry, though. Hubby Edward, terrified at the thought of losing his new wife, takes a syringe filled with his venom and injects it directly into Bella’s heart. The movie ends with Jacob, (still in love with Bella), falling madly in love with Renesme, the demon spawn, and Bella becoming a vampire.

As you can probably tell by now, this movie is not for the weak-stomached. Or anyone at all, really. It could just end here, being a wildly disturbing, graphic movie. But no. That’s not really the point. I’m writing about this movie not just because it’s damaging to see, but because the whole idea of it is wrong.

Bella knows that Edward is a murderer, as he explains to her many times. Bella knows how dangerous he is. Bella knows that Edward could kill her, and WILL kill her, if she’s to become a vampire. But that’s what she wants. It seems that Bella just wants to die, or be devoured and turned into a vampire, a lifeless, terrifying monster.

It makes sense that Edward’s “adopted” sister Rosalie hates Bella so much. Vampires don’t really choose to become vampires. In fact, most of them don’t want to be vampires. But Bella does.

This is a movie targeted at teenagers, specifically teenage girls. When I went to see it, there were more than a few girls who looked under 10-years-old in the theatre. It disturbs me so much that the only reason “Breaking Dawn” is rated PG-13 is probably because they want to make money off of the age group it’s targeted at.

Would you want your daughter being submitted to the messages Twilight gives? That when your boyfriend leaves you as Edward does to Bella in “New Moon,” you should just lounge around the house for months, staring out the window and wondering if you have the will to live? Should teenagers think that it’s normal when your husband bruises you? Should it just be a sign of his love? Is it right that you should HAVE to keep a baby, even when it’s literally killing you? Would you give absolutely everything up, even your life, just to have a husband?

These are the messages Twilight is sending to young girls. Decide for yourself what you think about it, but I know how I feel: there should be less Bella Swans in the world, and there should be less books and movies like “Breaking Dawn.”

So there you have it. The last time I will ever discuss Twilight on this blog. I merely felt it was important to share the opinions of a member of its target audience.

Later this week, we will return to discussing a female character so awesome, a romantic relationship so down to earth, and a narrative so much better it might as well be from another galaxy……..