Having recently re-read through some young adult fiction and finished Marissa Meyer's latest and final installment in the Lunar Chronicles, I was struck by a troubling realization. I realized that one of the things I had disliked about Winter (a book that I liked, overall), and most of the quartet of books, was the abortive attempts of the heroine to actively engage in fighting the enemy because she is consistently burdened by feelings of guilt about the people who are sacrificing themselves for her sake.
In fact, in general, I am appalled at how often female main characters, especially "chosen ones," become crippled by their emotions in the middle of crucial situations. Most common is survivor's guilt. A close second is flat out despair. Almost always it will overwhelm her, whereas her male counterpart deals with the guilt in some active and useful way (note, I did NOT say "healthy" way).
I'm sure that this sense of survivor's guilt is entirely realistic. Having recently read back over other examples of war fiction, like Tim O'Brien's "The Things They Carried," I found the concept of survivor's guilt in a war situation a fairly straightforward and accurate psychological burden. Most "savior" or "chosen one" characters in settings that involve an ongoing war experience survivor's guilt. But what seemed a bit strange to me was how much more writers seem to emphasize survivor's guilt in stories with female protagonists and how they portray this guilt as crippling, versus how guilt is dealt with in stories with male protagonists.
For example, in the Harry Potter series, Harry is portrayed as fairly sensitive to survivor's guilt. In some ways it drives him to make the final sacrifices that he does toward the end of the series. (Sort of a "no one else must die for me.") But Harry rarely seems to be crippled by this guilt; it keeps him going forward. There is an understanding in the HP series that casualties are an inevitable and terrible cost of war. We all sobbed with Harry over the deaths of Sirius, Fred, Dobby, and even Snape (RIP Alan Rickman). But these casualties strengthened the heroes' resolve to see it through to the end. The love they felt for their friends, and the grief they endured, became a source of emotional endurance.
In the WOT series, Rand also has tremendous guilt, especially over all of the women who died for him (thanks, Rand), and obsessively remembers their names. But he channels this guilt (pun intended) into anger and revenge for them. Not healthy, for sure, but at least he's doing something.
Contrast this with what happens to Cinder in The Lunar Chronicles. Cinder discovers that she's the long lost moon princess, Selene (hello, Marissa, this is Naoko Takeuchi calling, and she wants her story back! JK). The rest of the series is about her attempt to overthrow her evil aunt, the current monarch of the moon. Along the way several sympathetic characters die or are severely wounded helping Cinder, and we spend pages on Cinder's anguish over these sacrifices for her sake. It's very understandable for her to feel this guilt, but what isn't proper is for it to disable her from positive action. Cinder berates herself at every turn; she isn't worth other people's sacrifices. In the middle of battle, when people are dying around her, she stands helpless (a cyborg with magical telepathy, mind you) because she can't deal with the guilt. And I have to ask myself: Why is Cinder crippled by survivor's guilt and feelings of extreme unworthiness, when, in a similar situation, Harry Potter, Rand, and Neo just switch into terminator mode?
Granted, it's only Cinder who thinks herself unworthy; that's not necessarily what the audience thinks. But it's still pretty damaging to be obliged to follow a protagonist who just shuts down because she can't get over the terrible guilt of others dying for her sake during a war.
I am tempted to think that this is a similar theme in The Hunger Games series, but it's been a while since I last read those books. I know that Katniss eventually becomes unable to deal with everything that has happened to her, and I think this is an attempt on Collins' part to realistically portray PTSD. That makes sense to me. But it also makes me wonder why I'm not finding such a realistic portrayal of a male in fantasy and dystopian fiction. Rand comes close sometimes, but then, he's Rand. Maybe I just haven't read enough.
Are heroines in fictional war stories more emotionally fragile than their male counterparts? Are they fundamentally unable to deal with the casualties and grief of war? Or is there an underlying cultural belief lurking in the murky corners of these stories that would embarrass us if we brought it into the light? Namely that women aren't really worthy or capable military leaders, possibly because of their emotions, but also possibly just because they're women.
Sometimes the way these characters berate themselves seems ludicrously apologetic. As if the heroines are saying: "I know that I'm not worth dying for. In fact, I and my cause are so unworthy that I will be rendered completely useless by the entirely appropriate guilt and anguish I feel at your willing sacrifices. Your deaths are my fault." Logically, we know that Cinder can't be faulted for Dr. Darnel's death or for Wolf's continued torture. These were adults who willingly and knowingly put themselves in extreme danger for a cause they believed in that happened to include her. But all we get out of Cinder is a lot of self-hate. And that's not good or helpful. In fact, it implies that women, or at least, Cinder, is more responsible or culpable for the well-being of others than any normal (male) human being could be. Again, Rand could be a male model here, but he's also crazy. And he feels guilty about women...which... I just can't.
When Harry blames himself for Sirius' death, there is at least a more specific reason for this than his simply being the chosen one. It is possible to realize that, in some ways, it is Harry's fault. This is part of Harry growing up. And he deals with this guilt actively, channeling it into anger. It's not the best response, but it is active, not passive. Harry doesn't sit in his room for months and then go cliff diving.
Perhaps the Divergent series is different? I'm not sure. I haven't read it. I will say that I think Sabriel and Lirael of the Abhorsen trilolgy seem to suffer from this problem a little less, and also older fantasy like Robin McKinley. Perhaps Robert Jordan can pass because he's purposefully setting his books in patriarchal worlds...I guess. I'm sure there must be others. Maybe some one can point me in the right direction?
In fact, in general, I am appalled at how often female main characters, especially "chosen ones," become crippled by their emotions in the middle of crucial situations. Most common is survivor's guilt. A close second is flat out despair. Almost always it will overwhelm her, whereas her male counterpart deals with the guilt in some active and useful way (note, I did NOT say "healthy" way).
I'm sure that this sense of survivor's guilt is entirely realistic. Having recently read back over other examples of war fiction, like Tim O'Brien's "The Things They Carried," I found the concept of survivor's guilt in a war situation a fairly straightforward and accurate psychological burden. Most "savior" or "chosen one" characters in settings that involve an ongoing war experience survivor's guilt. But what seemed a bit strange to me was how much more writers seem to emphasize survivor's guilt in stories with female protagonists and how they portray this guilt as crippling, versus how guilt is dealt with in stories with male protagonists.
For example, in the Harry Potter series, Harry is portrayed as fairly sensitive to survivor's guilt. In some ways it drives him to make the final sacrifices that he does toward the end of the series. (Sort of a "no one else must die for me.") But Harry rarely seems to be crippled by this guilt; it keeps him going forward. There is an understanding in the HP series that casualties are an inevitable and terrible cost of war. We all sobbed with Harry over the deaths of Sirius, Fred, Dobby, and even Snape (RIP Alan Rickman). But these casualties strengthened the heroes' resolve to see it through to the end. The love they felt for their friends, and the grief they endured, became a source of emotional endurance.
In the WOT series, Rand also has tremendous guilt, especially over all of the women who died for him (thanks, Rand), and obsessively remembers their names. But he channels this guilt (pun intended) into anger and revenge for them. Not healthy, for sure, but at least he's doing something.
Contrast this with what happens to Cinder in The Lunar Chronicles. Cinder discovers that she's the long lost moon princess, Selene (hello, Marissa, this is Naoko Takeuchi calling, and she wants her story back! JK). The rest of the series is about her attempt to overthrow her evil aunt, the current monarch of the moon. Along the way several sympathetic characters die or are severely wounded helping Cinder, and we spend pages on Cinder's anguish over these sacrifices for her sake. It's very understandable for her to feel this guilt, but what isn't proper is for it to disable her from positive action. Cinder berates herself at every turn; she isn't worth other people's sacrifices. In the middle of battle, when people are dying around her, she stands helpless (a cyborg with magical telepathy, mind you) because she can't deal with the guilt. And I have to ask myself: Why is Cinder crippled by survivor's guilt and feelings of extreme unworthiness, when, in a similar situation, Harry Potter, Rand, and Neo just switch into terminator mode?
Granted, it's only Cinder who thinks herself unworthy; that's not necessarily what the audience thinks. But it's still pretty damaging to be obliged to follow a protagonist who just shuts down because she can't get over the terrible guilt of others dying for her sake during a war.
I am tempted to think that this is a similar theme in The Hunger Games series, but it's been a while since I last read those books. I know that Katniss eventually becomes unable to deal with everything that has happened to her, and I think this is an attempt on Collins' part to realistically portray PTSD. That makes sense to me. But it also makes me wonder why I'm not finding such a realistic portrayal of a male in fantasy and dystopian fiction. Rand comes close sometimes, but then, he's Rand. Maybe I just haven't read enough.
Are heroines in fictional war stories more emotionally fragile than their male counterparts? Are they fundamentally unable to deal with the casualties and grief of war? Or is there an underlying cultural belief lurking in the murky corners of these stories that would embarrass us if we brought it into the light? Namely that women aren't really worthy or capable military leaders, possibly because of their emotions, but also possibly just because they're women.
Sometimes the way these characters berate themselves seems ludicrously apologetic. As if the heroines are saying: "I know that I'm not worth dying for. In fact, I and my cause are so unworthy that I will be rendered completely useless by the entirely appropriate guilt and anguish I feel at your willing sacrifices. Your deaths are my fault." Logically, we know that Cinder can't be faulted for Dr. Darnel's death or for Wolf's continued torture. These were adults who willingly and knowingly put themselves in extreme danger for a cause they believed in that happened to include her. But all we get out of Cinder is a lot of self-hate. And that's not good or helpful. In fact, it implies that women, or at least, Cinder, is more responsible or culpable for the well-being of others than any normal (male) human being could be. Again, Rand could be a male model here, but he's also crazy. And he feels guilty about women...which... I just can't.
When Harry blames himself for Sirius' death, there is at least a more specific reason for this than his simply being the chosen one. It is possible to realize that, in some ways, it is Harry's fault. This is part of Harry growing up. And he deals with this guilt actively, channeling it into anger. It's not the best response, but it is active, not passive. Harry doesn't sit in his room for months and then go cliff diving.
Perhaps the Divergent series is different? I'm not sure. I haven't read it. I will say that I think Sabriel and Lirael of the Abhorsen trilolgy seem to suffer from this problem a little less, and also older fantasy like Robin McKinley. Perhaps Robert Jordan can pass because he's purposefully setting his books in patriarchal worlds...I guess. I'm sure there must be others. Maybe some one can point me in the right direction?
