#and i was also mad about people saying jw is straight so. he is not <3 and you are not a girl either

[shadowthief78]

in light of Solo Leveling getting popular (cos of an animated adaptation from what i can gather) I put forward my interpretation that Jinwoo is flamingly homosexual and at any given point only 0.3% of his brain is occupied with anything remotely hunter related. The rest is dedicated to Jinah, his mom, and/or his boyfriend

(context, reader is a construction worker)

If you want to read some Jinwoo/m!reader my series Somewhere in Time is on Ao3 (here for your perusal)

[wolfstarlibrarian]

HELLO I was jw what were your favourite fics featuring POC Marauders without the shitty stereotyping 💜

Also thank you librarian for your content. Honestly this is the top tier rec blog in the fandom due to your amazing taste.

Well THIS is a great ask! It’s nice to see fans looking for authentic diversity in fics as opposed to tokenism. Just about all of these fics have been listed on various library lists, but hopefully people enjoying seeing them listed somewhere convenient. Also, this is just a VERY SMALL selection of fics featuring Remus or Sirius as POC, so if you’re looking for more of a certain representation, just send an ask!

Also, a note to authors looking to include representation (other than their own ethnicity) in their next fic: make sure that you read first hand experiences from multiple sources, research with advocacy groups, and THEN try reach out to a peer who can potentially beta/do a sensitivity read for you. It's important that we all try and learn as much as possible on our own before asking our peers to work as our educators. ❤️

POC Wolfstar

Black James & Cuban Sirius

Be My Baby by @remus-john-lupin It’s the summer of 1963, and 18 year old Remus Lupin discovers dance, love, and even himself. (A very romantic and very gay Dirty Dancing AU.)

Latino Remus

Forget-Me-Not by @halictus-writer

For someone who just woke up with amnesia and a bad concussion, Remus Lupin isn't too dispirited. He'll get through it with the help of his friends, taking it one day at a time, as Sirius says. The only (other) problem? There's something important that he's forgetting.

Retrial by phoenixgal

Remus Lupin, host of the popular podcast Retrial, decides to focus on the case of Sirius Black, a man convicted of murdering his high school best friend, for his upcoming season. Remus has gotten too close to his subjects in the past, so he promises himself that won't happen this time.

Desi Sirius

Young Hearts Intertwined by @goodboylupin

There’s a special kind of magic to a wartime wedding.

Latino Remus & Desi Sirius

A Lucky Mishap by softiejace Of course this would be just Remus’ luck - the library printer breaking when the deadline for his term paper is coming up. And to top it off, the pretty boy he’s been running into all week is there to witness his moment of misery… but maybe he can turn things around?

Sephardic Jewish Remus

Candles in the Darkness by @miraxb

In the winter of seventh year, James, Sirius, and Remus are all carrying their own burdens and fears for the growing darkness in their world. Together, they find comfort and light at the Hanukkah celebration in the Lupin household.

Half Syrian Remus

I Tried Writing Your Name In The Rain, But It Never Came, So I Used The Sun Instead by @prefectmoony

Don’t get Remus wrong. He loves his friends, he does! Loves them to the moon and back in fact. They’re his people, his favorite part of everyday, his found family. He’d do anything for them. But the thing is that doesn’t take away from the very simple fact that his friends are fucking ridiculous. Remus knows this, has known it for five years now. But it doesn’t stop him from startling awake on the morning of his sixteenth birthday surprised by the sound of fireworks exploding in their dormitory and a raucous chorus of “Happy birthday Moony!” being shouted into his ear with jaunty gusto.

Chinese Sirius

got a fascination (with your presentation) by @alifeincoffeespoons

When Remus thought of Oxford as a child, he envisioned turrets, laughter, and an unnameable, unforgettable magic. He did not envision vomiting his breakfast all over himself while standing in the halls of St. Catherine’s College.

Cut Your Bangs by @notmycatsname

"There’s something about him that catches Sirius’s eye. His voice is a little whiny, almost off-key. Sirius has heard it time and time again in the bands that Lily plays through their speakers at their apartment but it sounds more genuine, almost heart breaking, through his voice. Remus’s voice."

Black Remus, Desi Sirius & James

Palo Alto by NachoDiablo

Modern AU set in Silicon Valley. It's easy for Sirius to ignore his mixed-up feelings while he's got Remus all to himself, but when Remus starts dating again, Sirius is forced to figure things out before Remus moves on for good. Or before James and Peter strangle them both.

Japanese Remus and Taiwanese Sirius

kavaluan (means white lily here) by @claudiafekete 1926, Taiwan. Japanese empire's prized colony. Remus needed an interpreter. Sirius volunteered.

Philippino Sirius

Problems with Narrative Structure and the Rules of Manly Engagement [+Podfic] by @xinasvoice

"There were easily six hundred people living in the Paramount building in downtown San Francisco. That was a lot of neighbors to get to know, but it only took a single day of living there for Sirius to notice Remus."

Latino Remus & Japanese-American!Sirius

Discards by @picascribit​ When 21-year-old assistant librarian Sirius spots a cute hipster college student at the Seattle Public Library, he just needs to figure out a subtle way of determining whether he’s into guys. But Remus’s life is more complicated than Sirius knows.

Native American Sirius

Grimsfall by @remus-john-lupin

There is a legend in the old city of Grimsfall that a large, black creature used to emerge from the forest at night, and anyone who met its gaze would be driven to madness before the thing dragged them into the depths of hell.

Mexican Remus & Sirius

A Whole Queer County Fair by @bigblackdogfic Two queer Mexican kids talking, having sex, and feeling their feelings in Arizona.

Indigenous Australian Remus

Among The Gumtrees by WolfstarGarden Sirius inherits his uncle's farm, but finding the right farmhand isn't as simple as he'd hoped: Sirius just couldn’t help but wonder if fantasising about his straight farm assistant was maybe one boundary breach too far. On the other hand, perhaps Remus shouldn’t suck on the end of his pen while lost in thought.

South American Remus

The Delegate by @wanderingbandurria

It’s 1921, and Sirius Black is a sailor that wants to prove himself as a political agitator. He sets foot in a lost, forgotten port in South America, where he’s supposed to help with the local organization of syndicalists. He’s not expecting to meet a brown-eyed man who is there to help put his words into Spanish. A man that’s really not interested in anything but doing his job. Nothing more.

Thai Sirius

Whatever Words I Say -orphaned fic

When Remus Lupin is hired to control the antics of famous lead singer of the Marauders, Sirius Black, he knows he has his work cut out for him. Sirius is contrary and has absolutely no chill, and loves pissing off the press. Remus feels up to the challenge, but he certainly does not expect to fall head over heels in love from the moment he meets the charismatic singer.

Something Beautiful -orphaned fic When Remus Lupin’s ex talks him into a drunken tattoo mistake, he goes to his friend and co-worker Lily for help. Luckily her husand’s best mate is a tattoo artist who can help with the cover up. Unfortunately for Remus, the tattoo in in a rather compromising area, and he’ll have to get over his embarrassment. Luckily for him, Sirius Black is just the man for the job.

So many fics and yet so many more to go! As always, feel free to reblog with your own recs!

[preserving-ferretbrain]

The Victim Dilemma

by Dan H

Tuesday, 03 March 2009

Dan continues to overuse the word “paradox” and to be rude about Joss Whedon~

I’m going to start with an anecdote.

One of the only times I have ever actually had my mind changed about something by the simple act of having somebody explain their point of view to me was when I found a friend of mine wearing one of those white “make poverty history” wristbands.

I never liked the slogan. I thought it was idealistic to the point of naïveté. You might as well carry a banner saying “end injustice now” or “bad things should stop happening.” What my friend explained to me, and I think he was totally right, was that “Make Poverty History” wasn’t about a directionless call for ��something” do be done, it was a way of saying “poverty is a problem to be solved, not something to wring your hands about.”

If we high-minded wealthy liberals are honest with ourselves, we tend to think of Africa as “the country the poor people come from.” On some level we all believe that starvation and suffering are what Africa is for. It’s nobody’s fault that millions of people starve to death despite the fact that there is, in fact, enough food to go around, it’s just the way of the world and anyway, if people stopped dropping dead in Ethiopia, what would Lenny Henry do with his time. “Make Poverty History” was a way of saying that our usual way of thinking about poverty is, in fact, totally fucked up.

This brings us back, by a commodius vicus of recirculation, to Joss Whedon, Dollhouse and The Portrayal of Women (tm). Just to be clear here, my aim here isn’t to knock Whedon, it isn’t to make him out to be a misogynist, or to “prove” that he isn’t the great big feminist he says he is. It’s just that ol’ JW is the best case in point for what is a very, very difficult issue.

Taking the Country Out the Boy: The Issue with “Ex”

One of the things that people have identified as “skeevy” (to borrow a term from FB poster Viorica) about Dollhouse is that so far most of the women portrayed in it have been victims of some sort, the classic example here being the first episode, in which Eliza Dushku’s character is programmed with the personality of a hostage negotiator whose entire career was a reaction against the fact that she, as a child, was abducted and abused.

Others have pointed out that this was actually totally okay, because she responded to the abuse by becoming a strong, independent woman, and was ultimately able to take on her abuser and defeat him (although “she” was now Eliza, programmed with the other woman’s memories).

Now I can totally see the argument that says that a story about a woman who grows stronger in response to a traumatic experience is an empowering one. The idea that this woman took a horrific experience and made something positive out of it is arguably both powerful and affirming, and you could certainly make the case that by overcoming her abuser she ceases to be a victim.

The problem I have is that an ex-victim is, to my mind, still a victim.

Look at it this way. Virtually every procedural show (be it police, medical, whatever) has the Obligatory Ex Criminal (often also filling the role of Obligatory Ethnic Minority). The ex-criminal used to live on the wrong side of the law, but has since “gone straight” and become a cop/doctor/interstellar revolutionary/whatever.

But, when you get right down to it, their job in the series is to do the criminal stuff. They pick people’s pockets, break into places the plot needs them to get into, and generally act like the Thief in a traditional D&D party. The same goes for anybody who is ex-military, ex-CIA, ex-vampire or ex-priest, the thing which they are “ex” defines their character as completely as the thing they do currently, arguably more so. The woman Eliza gets patched into her brain in the first episode of Dollhouse isn’t a hostage negotiator who happens to be female and happens to be an abuse survivor, she’s a female-abuse-survivor-turned hostage negotiator. The character is still defined primarily by the abuse, if only because without it, the episode would be stripped of most of its conflict and therefore most of its point.

On Victimhood: The Heath Ledger Effect

When Heath Ledger died, the newspapers basically all said the same thing. He was a great actor, tormented by his personal demons, and his death was a tragic waste of a great talent. It’s the same when any actor dies, particularly if suicide is suspected. He was just too driven, too talented, too dedicated to his art. His genius was rooted in a very real darkness, and so on.

You might have noticed the use of the masculine pronoun above. Admittedly I do sometimes use “he” for gender-neutrality (there go my feminist credentials) but in this case I do mean it quite specifically.

When a famous woman dies, particularly if suicide is suspected, it's a whole different story. We are not told about her towering genius, and women absolutely never have personal demons. Instead we are told about how a poor, innocent girl was drawn all unknowing into the machinery of fame, and was helpless to prevent herself being chewed up and spat out like tobacco. Candle In the Wind makes references to Norma Jeane being “hounded,” “set on a treadmill,” “lonely,” and of course “never knowing who to cling to.” Not once does it point out that she was also quite a good actress.

Famous people go off the rails, but when a man goes off the rails, we focus on the loss of his potential, we say “has the man who did all these amazing things really come to this?” When a woman goes off the rails, we say “oh how sad, and to think she was once somebody's little girl.” When a man dies, or goes mad, or both we mourn the loss of his talent. When a woman dies or goes mad we mourn the loss of, for want of a better word, her femininity. We always think, just for a moment, how much happier she would have been if she'd just found a nice man and settled down.

This is one of those situations where I think there's Something Important here but I'm not entirely sure what it is. The problem is that, in general, women do have a tougher time of it than men, so chances are Marilyn Monroe really did have a tougher life than James Dean, but the fact remains that we remember one as a great actor whose life was cut short by a car accident, and the other as a tragic example of innocence crushed by the Hollywood machine.

The problem is that women, because of the nature of society, have slightly less control over their lives than men, and slightly fewer choices. This is a bad thing. The problem is, if you fixate too much on the (real, occasional) powerlessness of women you wind up presenting a situation where women, because of their gender, are incapable of controlling their lives, or making their own choices.

To put it another way, isn't Elton John singing “Hollywood made you a superstar,” just a little bit insulting to old Norma Jeane Mortenson?

The Paradox: Life Imitates Art Imitates Life

Much as I love dissing Joss Whedon for his various airs and graces, he's in a bugger of an impossible position.

If he ignores the victimization of women, he's not really doing his job as a “feminist,” but if he portrays it, he's only reinforcing the kind of stereotypes he's trying to fight against.

It all comes back to the problem with Africa or, to put it another way, Russell's “Superior Virtue of the Oppressed.” Put simply, we like to see other people suffer, not because we are cruel but because it allows us to feel secure in ourselves. We construct convenient fictions for ourselves – like the old classic about how blind people's other senses get razor-sharp to “compensate” for their lack of sight. We invest victimhood with virtue, and that is extremely dangerous.

Regular ferretbrainers will probably be familiar with our

Fantasy Rape Watch

feature. One of the fantasy rape clichés that I have a particularly hard time dealing with is the one you might call “Rape as Rite of Passage”. It's worryingly common in fantasy for female protagonists to get raped, and for this to form a crucial part of her development “as a woman” and contribute to her unlocking her true potential. It's just plain freaky, but it's really easy to see where it comes from.

When you are confronted with somebody who has suffered terribly, be they an abuse victim, a holocaust survivor, or whatever, one of the only ways we can cope with it is to convince yourselves that the sheer fact of their survival makes them admirable. Ironically it's a form of dehumanisation, we cope with the suffering of others by convincing ourselves that they are so inferior or so superior that we don't have to care what happens to them. The alternative is to accept just how awful, cruel and pointless the world can really be.

There is a very real danger in presenting “women who triumph in the wake of abuse” as role models or icons of female empowerment. In fact there are several very real dangers.

For a start, it passes an implicit judgement on people who survive abuse but are just plain broken by it: Eliza Dushku can get over it, why can't you? I would be interested in seeing the statistics, but I strongly suspect that in real life, being abducted and sexually abused makes you less likely to become a roaring success, not more likely. I also rather suspect that if you applied to train as a hostage negotiator and said that the reason you wanted to do it was because you were abducted as a child, they wouldn't even interview you (I understand that medical schools frequently reject people for citing “because I lost person X to disease Y” as their reason for applying).

And of course it also passes an implicit judgement on women who have just got on with their lives without having the good fortune to suffer horrific sexual abuse through which they can discover their inner feminine mojo. By exaggerating the triumphs of abused women, you wind up presenting a deeply disturbing view of the world where being raped is the highest thing a woman can aspire to. Not deliberately, of course, but in a work of fiction a woman who has merely succeeded is going to get less screen time and less audience sympathy than a woman who has succeeded in spite of abuse.

And finally, there's the sexual double standard. This one's a bit tricky, but I think it's telling that while abuse for a female character is a free ticket to sympathy city by way of prestige junction, for a male character it's just a little bit icky. I think, actually, I could get past the “abuse is empowerment” thing if it applied to men as well as to women, but when was the last time you saw a male character in a work of fiction who was abused as a child and responded by becoming a badass? A good badass, I mean, not a serial killer. And it's this that I think kills the whole idea for me.

The reason you never see an empowered response to abuse from a male character is because people find the idea of a man suffering abuse, particularly sexual abuse, wholly unnatural. Put simply, men are not supposed to be victims, and for a male character to be abused in that way violates some major social taboos in the way that the abuse of women doesn't.

And that right there is the big problem. The reason people are willing to accept the idea that abuse can be a natural part of the background of an empowered fictional woman is because on a basic level we accept the abuse of women in general as natural. Africans are there to starve so we can feel good when we send them food. Women are there to be abused and oppressed so we can feel good when we “empower” them.

Bit messed up really, isn't it.Themes:

TV & Movies

,

Whedonverse

,

Minority Warrior

~

bookmark this with - facebook - delicious - digg - stumbleupon - reddit

~Comments (

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http://serenoli.livejournal.com/

at 09:41 on 2009-03-03Nice article. :)

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Arthur B

at 10:11 on 2009-03-03Oh hey

Something Awful

are getting in on the

Dollhouse

dogpile. I like the article because it includes the line "Unfortunately, Joss, no prophecy, shadow space government, or super hooker company will ever make a woman completely and exactly as awesome as your mom."

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Dan H

at 14:12 on 2009-03-03The Something Awful thing is made of win. I rather liked the line: "he is beating Echo and trying to rape her all over. He is punching her and doing rape moves at her."

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Arthur B

at 15:29 on 2009-03-03"Yo! Maybe it is you that should be raped."

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http://fintinobrien.livejournal.com/

at 17:10 on 2009-03-03I just noticed the Whedonverse category. Is he the next Rowling for you, Mr Hemmens? :D

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Rami

at 18:15 on 2009-03-03I wonder if the Western

(abuse ∨ oppression) ⇒ empowerment

thought process is at all influenced by the Catholic Church's long-held creeds of

suffering ⇒ salvation

…

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Dan H

at 21:34 on 2009-03-03

I just noticed the Whedonverse category. Is he the next Rowling for you, Mr Hemmens? :D

Not exactly. I actually really like Joss Whedon. I loved Buffy to much it cost my my degree, and I thought Firefly was awesome when it wasn't trying to Empower Women (tm).

Basically I think that Joss Whedon makes excellent TV shows, which unfortunately stop every couple of episodes to make A Point About How Society Treats Women in a gratuitous and heavy-handed way.

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http://katsullivan.insanejournal.com/

at 21:13 on 2009-03-04Your point about men not being allowed to be victims takes my mind to Harry Potter. Despite his years of abuse by Muggles, Harry never "internalizes" the abuse. He hates them right back. He's never a victim to their alienation like Voldemort or Snape - who grow up to become monsters of sorts.

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Arthur B

at 21:51 on 2009-03-04Well, that's because Harry is inherently virtuous, whereas Voldemort and Snape are inherently sinful, like

those who are not of the Elect

.

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Wardog

at 11:07 on 2009-03-05Kat, that's a really interesting point. I'd never really thought about Harry's abuse from that angle before - I suppose partially because horrible things happen to children all the time in children's books and partially because, at least initially, the portrayal of the Dursley's is generally played for laughs. But it does seem to fall between two stools, being neither approached seriously enough or frivolously enough (I mean, they keep him in a cupboard!) to be anything other than shallow. I know he's not a protagonist, but it contrasts rather nicely against the treatment Snape who, of course, lives his entire life as someone who has never really got over being horribly bullied at school.

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http://sistermagpie.livejournal.com/

at 01:09 on 2009-03-06

when was the last time you saw a male character in a work of fiction who was abused as a child and responded by becoming a badass?

This of course makes me think of Batman, who did not suffer abuse but had his parents murdered in front of him as a child and went on to protect others. As opposed to many female comics characters who instead get raped and then get strong to fight back. There's definitely a difference.

I remember a show years ago, I forget what it was, but there was a main character who had near-psychic ability to understand serial killers because she'd been kidnapped and held by one for months as a kid. And what annoyed me so much was not only did the experience essentially give her a super power but it was like even as a child she was clearly so awesome that that's why she survived. So now she could always look at a killer and "see" how he saw things. I imagine she'd have a hard time relating to victims.

Also on the Elect HP question, I always thought this post was interesting on the subject. It was written post-GoF so long before DH was written.

http://skelkins.com/hp/archives/000149.html

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Arthur B

at 01:24 on 2009-03-06Hmm, there was a Spiderman comic where he helps some kid who's being molested, and reveals that he was abused himself by an older cousin before he became Spiderman...

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http://sistermagpie.livejournal.com/

at 03:01 on 2009-03-06I think I remember that. Though I don't know if he says he's been molested or maybe that he almost was but he told someone? I can't remember now.

Note, of course, that it's not part of his origin story. He's not defined by it.

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Shim

at 07:49 on 2009-03-06The Dursleys thing to me brings to mind Roald Dahl, particularly Mathilda (the book, of course): the headmistress' comment that if you behave outrageously enough, the claims just sound ridiculous, seems pretty apt. The difference being that Dahl has a real talent for producing disturbing books while keeping them light enough to actually read.

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Arthur B

at 09:41 on 2009-03-06I've been inspired to

track the spiderlestation comic down

. (The rest of the Comics With Problems site is excellent, by the way).

FWIW, 4th panel of page 6 seems to imply that he was actually molested - he's objecting, but the narration notes that he was "too frightened to leave". In classic comic book style, Spidey concludes the comic by mentioning that he's actually been

haunted for years

by what transpired there, but he's now started the healing process, so we shouldn't be surprised if we never hear anything about it ever again.

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Dan H

at 12:04 on 2009-03-06Wow, loads of comments since I last logged on:

@Shimmin: I thought of the Dahl connection myself. I think the reason it works for Dahl is because it's so over the top that you accept it as metaphor. The "abuse" that Dahl's characters suffer is basically a representation of the way regular kids *feel* like they're being treated. Harry muddies the waters because we're always told that his childhood was an important test of his character, and because we have so many "real life" issues approached in the series.

@Sister Magpie: Batman is about as close as you can get with a male character (unless you count the Spiderlestation) but as you say there's clear blue water between "my parents were killed" and "I was raped". (Although TVTropes does observe that

Rape is the New Dead Parents

). If nothing else, having your parents murdered in front of you is still in the realm of fantasy violence, whereas rape isn't (which is why so many people thought that Spike attempting to rape Buffy was unforgivable in a way that

torturing people to death for fun

was not).

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http://mary-j-59.livejournal.com/

at 03:09 on 2009-03-22I know this is a bit off point, but I really hate the way bullying and victimization is treated in "Harry Potter". Snape is not a monster; he is a normal human being who, from what we see in the text, never received unconditional love from anyone and never had a place he felt truly at home, or even safe. Harry's reaction to what ought to be severe neglect/abuse, on the same level as young Sev apparently experienced, is completely unrealistic. He should not be as intact as he seems to be - not that he's altogether intact; Harry does show signs of narcissistic personality disorder, as well as being oppositional and defiant. But, if we are to take the Dursleys seriously, he should be much more scarred than he is.

Snape is deeply scarred. A scarred human being is not a monster. BTW, whatever one thinks of this character, he does a great deal of rescuing.

But, getting back to the original essay, it is a very uncomfortable idea that people should be special *because* they have been victimized. It seems almost a justification for victimization, doesn't it?

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Arthur B

at 14:04 on 2009-03-22

But, if we are to take the Dursleys seriously, he should be much more scarred than he is.

Well, that's precisely it: in the first half of the series, at least, we are not meant to take the Dursleys at all seriously. They're comic relief, or if you want to be really generous a satirical swipe at how the mediocre and conformist hold back the talented and special. (How Objectivist!)

Rowling asks us to take the Dursleys seriously at more or less precisely the same time as the series as a whole goes to shit.

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http://mary-j-59.livejournal.com/

at 18:27 on 2009-03-22Oh, I agree, Arthur! Another commentator online called the Dursley scenes schizophrenic from the outset. They - the Dursleys - are meant to be laughable, and yet, at the same time, their ignorance and cruelty are meant to show how very special poor little Harry is. It's queasy-making, really. But the schizophrenic attitude towards victims and victimization only gets worse, imho, culminating in Harry's torture scene in DH. Torture isn't bad, you see. It's only bad if the bad guys do it. Ugh!

But I will now stop hijacking this thread. Dan makes very good points, really. And the prevalance of this sort of violence against female characters in fantasy lit is worrying. But maybe, in the case of women authors especially, it reflects what they observe in real life?

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http://arkan2.livejournal.com/

at 23:30 on 2009-03-24Another excellent essay, Dan. You have such a marvelous way with words, and a marvelous way of articulating what I stumble and struggle for months to try to spit out. I quoted part of your "Make Poverty History" section in a recent argument because it was so well said.

"Admittedly I do sometimes use “he” for gender-neutrality (there go my feminist credentials)"

I don't think so. It's so common in today's society that you have to be truly anal about politically correct language to get it right all the time. We're never going to be perfect (well, not until we've made certain disgraceful human practices such as poverty and sexism history anyway), but that doesn't automatically make us completely antifeminist, or whatever. (See what I mean about being articulate?)

That Victim Dilemma is a real problem for me. As a writer, I see it as my duty both to point out the injustices in the world, and to portray the heroism of people who struggle against that injustice. And while there is something noble about men confronting violence against women, or white people standing up for the rights of people of color, that sort of stuff can slide into colonialist propaganda (people in Africa need white people to solve their problems for them)

waaay

too easily.

On the other side of the coin, you run the risk of romanticizing the poor, putting women on a pedestal, depicting the natives as Noble Savages, and so on.

However, I don't think this is an insoluble problem, especially once an author/writer is made aware of the risks.

As a possible solution to the damaged/empowered women problem, I'm going to bring in the show which I spent my last comment bashing:

Veronica Mars

. (It's kinda like

Firefly

, actually: intolerable main character who we're supposed to adore; problematic depictions of feminism (poorly executed sincere attempts at feminism in one case, excessively skeevy portrayal of feminists in the other); occasional highly questionable morals; and a couple other problems like that--while the other 90% is good-to-brilliant.)

In

Veronica Mars

, the title character was raped a year before the first season. Several other female characters are raped or sexually abused over the course of the series.

In Veronica's case though, it's quite clear that (like in the Spider-Man example mentioned above) she's not kick-ass

because

she was raped, she's kick-ass despite it. The other female characters are all firmly established before their sexual abuse, and afterwards, they don't become stronger or more dedicated or whatever, they try to go on with their lives and try to get over the bad experience.

(mary-j-59)

“But, getting back to the original essay, it is a very uncomfortable idea that people should be special *because* they have been victimized. It seems almost a justification for victimization, doesn't it?

Ha, well put. It's closely related to the idea that child abuse builds character.

Of course, sometimes adversity

does

make people stronger and “build character” as they say. Of course, all conscious human attempts so far to replicate such “positive” adversity to date have to my knowledge been dismal failures.

Rowling asks us to take the Dursleys seriously at more or less precisely the same time as the series as a whole goes to shit.”

Yet another spot-on observation.

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Wardog

at 10:40 on 2009-03-25Hi Mary-J - you didn't hijack the thread at all, I'm glad Open-ID is allowing you to comment.

The I-would-say-probably-inadvertent portrayal of victimisation / abuse in Harry Potter is one of the *many* problematic aspects of the texts.

He should not be as intact as he seems to be - not that he's altogether intact; Harry does show signs of narcissistic personality disorder, as well as being oppositional and defiant.

I'm never to sure what extent this is intentional - I know authorial intent is shaky ground at the best of times but I don't think we're actually meant to believe Harry has been damaged by his abuse the hands of the Dursleys.

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Arthur B

at 10:56 on 2009-03-25If Harry shows signs of NPD it's probably more a consequence of everyone in the world telling him he's the messiah (oh, and the fact that he is, in fact, the messiah) than being slapped about by comedy fatties in middle-class purgatory.

I think the big problem with the Dursleys is that, when you take away their comic relief aspects, they're basically there to plaster over a gap in the timeline. Harry's character is defined entirely by the death of his parents, the death of Voldemort, and the reaction of various characters to both of those events. This leaves an 11 year gap in the timeline where nothing actually important happens to Harry. Rowling's solution is to um and ah and finally shut him in a closet for 11 years.

Someone has almost certainly done a fanfic where Hogwarts and the wizarding world in general is just a delusion Harry has constructed to get away from the grimness of his home life (or, alternately, he's just a hopeless schizophrenic and the Dursleys actually go out of their way to help him but can't stop him running away spending months homeless dreaming of being a wizard). That would miss the point, but it'd also be pretty funny.

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Dan H

at 15:02 on 2009-03-25

If Harry shows signs of NPD it's probably more a consequence of everyone in the world telling him he's the messiah (oh, and the fact that he is, in fact, the messiah) than being slapped about by comedy fatties in middle-class purgatory.

Ah the age old question: is it narcissism if the universe really does revolve around you?

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Wardog

at 15:38 on 2009-03-25Is that a piece of fairy cake?

[rosegoldjen]

You Are in Love - A Clawen Story

You Are in Love - A Clawen Story 

setting: post JW

 one look, dark room

meant just for you 

Shortly after the boat had dropped them and a few thousand others off on the mainland, Claire and Owen were summoned back to headquarters. She was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to find a hotel room, shower, and go to sleep. But, duty calls. She followed Owen and a group of men out of the marina and towards a car waiting for them. She and Owen were pushed into the backseat and whisked off to the tallest building in the middle of downtown San Diego. Simon Masrani spared no expense.  

She had let her fingers rest limply on the leather seat in between them, not caring anymore about body language. She stared out the window, watching the cars pass by. She started when she felt warm fingers tickle hers gently. She turned to Owen. He too was looking out the window, seemingly unmoving. His hand, however, was moving closer and closer to hers to grab it; and she let him. 

As soon as they pulled up to the main office, they were escorted to what looked like locker rooms. They were given fresh clothes to change into, toiletries to freshen up, and instructions to meet in the board room on the seventeenth floor when they were finished.  

As soon as Claire stepped out of the shower and put on the skirt and blouse Masrani had provided for her, she felt closer to herself again. She blow-dried her hair and styled it into the usual straight bob. She and Owen had no plans to meet before they ascended to the seventeenth floor, so she went on without him.  

The doors opened and Claire prepared to step out and face the company. She was surprised to see that the sun had almost set, yet they hadn’t turned on many lights in the room. Owen was already sitting across from her at the table, typical of large board rooms such as this one. The first thing she noticed was how goddammed good he looked, even after being chased by multiple dinosaurs only hours ago.  

“Claire, thank you for joining us,” Masrani’s CPA interrupted her private gawking. “If you would please take a seat, we can get started.”  

She nodded and walked to the table. She took a seat across from Owen, there was no way she could sit next to him so soon. 

“Let’s review the damage that you two managed to cause in the last forty-eight hours,” the CPA, who had skipped the formalities of introducing himself, brought images up onto a screen on the opposite end of the room, images that were enough to make Claire lose the crackers she had eaten on the boat ride over. 

There was a picture of her, there was a picture of her, Owen, Zach, and Gray standing amongst the damage done to Main Street, there was a video of Owen running from the I-Rex and diving under the truck. 

It was all too much for her. She looked at Owen, hoping he could see the panic in her eyes from across the dark room. With one look across the dark room, he managed to calm her, even if it was just a fraction. 

“Do we really need to be looking at these right now?” Owen objected. “We just got finished fighting the damn thing, the least you could do is let her try to find peace in her sleep before you go reminding her about the losses and the consequences and the price of damages. Jesus.”

Claire was stunned. No one had ever stood up for her as passionately as Owen had. 

“C’mon, Claire, we’re leaving,” he grabbed her arm, pulling her out of her chair and into the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, she turned to him. He was still brooding, but only slightly at the edges.

“Oh my God,” Claire breathed. “No one has ever done something like that for me before. 

“Jesus, Claire, I couldn’t believe you were actually going to keep sitting there, looking so helpless and not doing anything,” he was still facing the wall. Claire grabbed his arm and gently turned him towards her.

“Hey,” she whispered, “thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.” She wrapped her arms around his waist. It was a few moments before he finally wrapped his much larger ones around her shoulders.

time moved too fast

you played it back

A month later

She hadn’t realized how quickly she had let Owen move into her life, how fast he was becoming a second nature, or how soon they would be moving in together. But before Claire realized it, she had gradually, but willingly let Owen move into her apartment. It had started after their first date, well their first date after their horrible first date. He was just coming up to the front door to kiss her goodnight before they found themselves collapsing in between the sheets, either from exhaustion or pure lust, she couldn’t tell which. 

It’s funny how traumatizing events like almost getting eaten by a dinosaur can bring people together, instantly. She was starting to rely on him to keep her grounded and keep her safe. So what if things were moving too fast? Whenever she thought about it and played back the events of the last few months, she realized she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Inevitably, both knew in the back of their minds that they would end up together, but neither of them had anticipated how quickly time moved.

buttons on a coat

light hearted joke

no proof not much

but you saw enough 

It was the little moments like these that she loved when she would catch Owen staring at her for far too long, pretending not to. If you laid on her bed just so, you would have a direct view of her bathroom vanity, all lit up and covered in skincare products. Owen had teased her about the length of her skincare routine before, often taking her more than twenty-five minutes to complete. But, only if she decided to use a face mask.

On this night, they had just gotten home from a day of grueling press meetings. They both had been dealing with Jurassic World this and when will you return to the island that. When they had finally stumbled into her apartment well after eleven pm, they had both collapsed together onto her bed. They laid there in silence until Claire mustered up the strength to stand up and get ready for bed.

While she was standing at the mirror washing her face, she glanced at Owen for a quick second. It was only one look, she had no proof of it, but she had seen enough. He was staring at her again. He often did this on nights he was most tired. Sometimes she would catch him, but most times, she knew she missed it. After all, she probably stared at him as much as he stared at her, being all sharp jaw and muscle.

“You’re staring again,” she lightheartedly called to him from the bathroom.

“What, no I’m not,” he frowned playfully.

“Yes you are I saw you watching,” she finished drying off her face, switched off the bathroom light, and came to lay on her stomach beside him. Gently, she rested her chin on his stomach. 

“Oh please, a gentleman like me would never gawk at a pretty woman. He would whistle and catcall.”

“Oh? Who said you were a gentleman?”

“Excuse me, who are you and what have you done with Ms. Dearing?” 

She smiled and leaned up to kiss him, her hands on his stomach. “I’m right here, baby.”

small talk, he drives

coffee at midnight

There were some nights where neither of them could sleep. The nightmares were too much, the demons haunting. Claire could count on both hands the number of times she had woken up close to midnight and found Owen still awake, fiddling with his motorcycle in the garage, or reading something online about the damage they had caused.

Those nights were the worst. The nights he had gotten to lost in his head to even think about coming to bed were the nights Claire was glad something had woken her up, whether it be her own nightmares or a gut instinct. Oftentimes, driving would help. Claire would grab the keys from the drawer and set them in front of him. That always brought him out his trance. 

There was a twenty-four-hour diner ten miles from their house. Claire would try to make small talk with him as she sat in the passenger’s seat. Some nights he would be responsive, other nights he would just stare at the road in front of him. She would normally be able to get him out of his head by the time they pulled up to the diner. Other nights, if was well past midnight and three cups of coffee later, he finally would come back to her.

the light reflects

the chain on your neck

“Good morning, babe.”

His voice flutters into her dreams, pulling her peacefully from her sleep.

“Guess what day it is?”

She groaned and rolled over to bury her face in the pillow next to hers. It smelt of him. He had started singing happy birthday quietly to her. This had become a tradition of theirs over the years. They would make each other breakfast in bed and have a lie-in.

“I made your favorites. Crepe’s with fresh crème and blueberries.” She sat up. He knew she was a sucker for fresh crème and blueberries any day. “I also have a present that I want you to open first.”

He pulled out a small white box and handed it to her. Inside was a beautiful diamond necklace on a delicate silver chain.

“I love it,” she smiled at him, lifting it out of its box. “Will you put it on me?” 

He crawled behind her and clasped the chain around her neck. It rested perfectly between her collarbones, accentuating them perfectly.

“Beautiful,” he breathed. They ate her breakfast together, laughing about stories from birthday’s past.

“This one time, Karen thought it would be funny to fill the hallway outside my room with balloons. When I woke up and wanted to go downstairs, the only was to get there was by popping multiple of those balloons. She got so mad.”

The sun was streaming in from the window on the other side of the room. She noticed that while Owen was paying attention to her, he was studying the necklace on her chest.

“Hey, sir, my eyes are up here,” she smirked at him.

“I’m sorry babe. The light just keeps reflecting off the chain on your neck and it’s distracting.”

he says “look up”

and your shoulders brush

a year ago

Every year around the holidays, Masrani pulled out all the stops. Claire had looked once in an account she wasn’t supposed to have access to. On average, they spent over ten million dollars on holiday parties alone. There has yet to be a party that Claire has gone to where everyone wasn’t dressed to the nines.

This New Years, however, was different. She had no one to kiss this time, she didn’t know who to ask to bring along. She didn’t want to force anyone to be her date either. She was close to coming to terms with herself. She and dating did not mix. It was as if she was a jinx and no one could save her. 

She had played the part of Masrani’s operations manager, mingling and meeting the uppers of the company. She had come when he told her to, “Claire, live a little. I need you to have fun tonight.” He had needed a business wing-woman apparently. He had this keen knack of pitching a sale to the richest investor after getting them tipsy on the most expensive bottle of champagne they could find. 

As the hours drew closer to midnight, Claire was getting tired of watching Masrani do the same thing repeatedly. She had wandered up to the top deck of the building, which just so happened to be the tallest hotel in all Jurassic World. She could see the lights of Main Street from here. People filled the streets, she could hear their music. 

“There isn’t anything in the world you could say to me right now that would make me come home,” a gruff voice said in the shadows. “I already told you, I’m fucking done.”

She was never one to be curious or pry into other people’s business. But when the stranger with the rough voice walked out of the shadows with the most handsome face she had ever seen, she decided that she needed to know.

“Well if that wasn’t the most touching conversation I’ve heard all night,” she smirked at the handsome stranger. She was surprising herself. Normally she wasn’t this forward with someone she even she knew well.

“Well, you gotta let them down easy sometimes, adding a few ‘I love you baby’s’ and an ‘I’ll bring home some chocolates’ also doesn’t hurt either.” He returned the smirk with vigor.

“Tough breakup?”

“You got it,” he came to stand against the railing next to her. “Sometimes I think I’m a jinx when it comes to dating. 

Claire almost snorted on her drink.

“So tell me, what’s a pretty lady like you doing standing out here when the parties in there?”

“You know the usual, trying not the be a jinx.”

“Oh?” He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “There’s no Mr. Pretty Lady in there waiting for you?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” she heard faint counting in the distance. “What would happen if I said yes?” 

“I probably wouldn’t do this.”

He swooped in and pressed his mouth to hers as the fireworks exploded over their heads. For just a moment, Claire let herself forget and live in the moment, happy that she was following Masrani’s advice and “living a little.”

He pulled away slowly from the kiss but kept his arms solid around her waist.

“Look up,” he tells her. She turns her body ever so slightly to get a better view of the fireworks overhead. When she does, their shoulder brush, standing, together on top of the building. After the last spark explodes overhead, he turns to her.

“I guess I should be more of a gentleman, I apologize,” he smiled down at her. “The name’s Owen Grady.”

She smiled back.

“Claire Dearing.”  

no proof, one touch

you felt enough

They had just run into the garage when the ground started to shake. Claire knew that she had to remain calm, under no circumstances was she allowed to panic. Zach and Gray had somehow miraculously started the other Jeep and had safely driven away. Well, she hoped safely, she wasn’t going to allow herself to think anything differently just yet.

They quickly ducked next to the other jeep, leaning up against it for support. If they remained completely still, maybe the Indominous Rex would leave them alone. In their haste to find shelter from the dinosaur, Owen had almost sat down on top of her, his shoulder completely crushing hers. As if it was an instinct, his arm had flung out in front of her body, crossing over her stomach and resting on her opposite hip.

With that one touch, she felt enough. There was something radiating from Owen, something almost protective. It was in that moment that she knew he was not going to let her die. He would give his life first before the dinosaur would get to her.

The ground shook again and she squeezed her eyes closed. She could feel Owens gaze on her and it was as though his arm felt even heavier across her front. He squeezed her hip, trying to reassure her. In his own mind, Owen had hoped this gesture would communicate to her that he wanted to protect her.

It did.

you can hear it in the silence

you can feel it on the way home

you can see it with the lights out

you are in love, true love

Morning, his place

Burnt toast, Sundays 

They always stayed at Owen’s house on the weekend. During the week, Claire always worried too much about work. They had tried it before, staying at Owen’s during the week, but Claire had almost had a mental breakdown when she realized she had forgotten some papers she needed for work the next day. And so, they started crashing at Owen’s on Saturday nights. 

They always stayed in on Sunday. Owen had a fancy thing about making breakfast for her in the morning, and on this morning, she woke up to the smell of burnt toast. 

“Owen,” she called as she walked slowly from the bedroom. She could hear pots and pans clanging, typical kitchen noises. When she walked into the kitchen, she found a shirtless Owen surrounded by burnt toast and fried eggs.

“Babe,” he groaned. “You weren’t supposed to see this. I was supposed to bring you breakfast in bed.”

you keep his shirt

he keeps his word

He turns around to look at her and gasps. There she stood in the kitchen doorway. She looked so effortless and stunning standing there in only his t-shirt from last night. She hadn’t an ounce of makeup on her face, but the morning sunlight streamed in through the window, hitting her eyes just right and making the green sparkle.

He knew he was beyond lucky to have her. After their disaster of a first date, he never thought that they would end up spending a single night together, much less more than one. He realized right then and there as they were standing half-naked in his kitchen together that she was the one he wanted to be with. He could get used to seeing her messy head every morning, even if it meant burning toast every Sunday.

“Go back to bed babe,” he smiled softly at her. “I must keep my word. Breakfast in bed for the most stunning woman on the planet.”

and for once you let go

of your fears and your ghosts

There were nights like these that were to be expected. Unfortunately for Claire, they had come to be expected. She would wake up in a cold sweat and realize with a start that an irregularly large dinosaur was in fact not trying to eat her alive. However, as bad as these nights were, they had come to be some of her favorites. 

Owen had learned to detect the signs of a nightmare, waking him almost immediately. He could tell almost immediately when Claire’s body became cold and rigid against his. She would try to escape his grasp, mentally trying to fight something that was holding her down. In response, Owen fought back. He held on to her harder, refusing to let such a beautiful woman slip through his arms and into the darkest parts of her thoughts.

Sometimes Claire would have to pin Owen down, which was hard for her to do considering she was a good hundred pounds lighter than she is. Usually, Owen was a still sleeper, never moving in his sleep, but when he began to move around, that was when she clued in to the problem. She could always tell what type of nightmare it was. If he was thrashing and kicking, she knew he was fighting the valiantly for his life. If he whimpered and pulled her closer, he was fighting for her life, fighting for the only thing he had ever loved. 

one step, not much, but it said enough

you kissed on sidewalks

you fight and you talk

“Please try and remember Owen, bread, milk, and cheese,” Claire pleaded as her pointed heels clicked down the sidewalk. “And please make the bread gluten free. And try to keep up, we’ll be walking for forever if you don’t pick up the pace. Now, what are you supposed to remember?” 

Owen, who was indeed walking behind her admiring her behind, did not remember what she had asked him to remember. This was a common occurrence on their weekly jaunts to the local supermarket. Owen much too often picked up chips, salsa, and guacamole instead.

“Owen!” her voice brought him out of his head again. She began lecturing him once more about the power of paying attention, but he wasn’t listening. Go figure. He was watching her lips move as she spoke, thinking about how much he liked it when they were on his. He was watching her hands, the way they moved when she talked and how they felt against his own. 

Suddenly, he was pulling her into a kiss, right there on the sidewalk, perfectly. At first, Claire was reluctant, but then he felt her body slowly giving into his, accepting his warmth and accepting his kiss.

“I always remember everything you tell me,” he said against her lips. 

one night he wakes, strange look on his face

pauses then says you’re my best friend

and you knew what it was, he is in love

Claire was up late that night finishing going over reports for an executive meeting the next day. She was sitting in bed with the files on her lap, her bedside lamp the only source of light. The digital clock on the wall across the room read two-thirty. She should probably be sleeping soon. She had to be up in a little less than four hours if she wanted to be to the meeting on time.

Owen had gone to bed around midnight. At this point, his steady breathing was the only thing that was keeping her sane. He always told her that she worked too much. She knew that she did, but after the Incident, she needed to work overtime to prevent it from happening again. 

A couple of minutes later, she decided that if she were to try and learn anything new now, it would be a lost cause. She set the files on the floor next to her bed and mentally made a note not to step on them when she woke up. When she leaned over to turn her light out, she felt a rustling beside her. Owen stirred beside her.

“Hey Claire,” he propped himself up on his elbows but didn’t open his eyes.

“Hey Owen,” she responded, smiling just a little. 

“Hey Claire, you’re my best friend.” 

She started a little. She had never had anyone speak so fondly of her.

“Hey Claire, I love you and all, but you should really get some sleep.”

She was definitely startled. He had never told her he loved her before.

“You love me?” she asked quietly as if she didn’t believe it herself.

He opened his eyes. “Of course I love you, Claire. I thought that much was obvious.” He smiled softly back at her. She switched off the lap and leaned over to kiss his lips.

“I love you, too.” She kissed him again, and for once she let go of her fears and her ghosts.

you can hear it in the silence 

you can feel it on the way home 

you can see it with the lights out

you are in love, true love

so, it goes

You two are dancing in a snow globe, round and round

and he keeps the picture of you in his office downtown 

“Man, are you serious?!” Barry laughed.

“What?” Owen acted unaware, unaware that he had just been caught staring at Claire’s picture for much too long.

“You live with the girl, you don’t need to stare at her picture twenty-four-seven.”

“C’mon man, give me a break.”

“So have you told her you love her yet?” Barry teased.

“What?! How do you know that I love her- if I love her?”

“I didn’t know until you just confirmed it for me.”

“I-” Owen was speechless. He had never had anyone who could see straight through him, and yet Barry could always tell what and how he was feeling.

“It’s alright man, I like her. She’s good for you.”

you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars

She looked crazy and wild standing there with the gun in her hands, the dirt on her face, and the tear in her skirt. She had been keeping up with him since the very beginning, fighting all the battles alongside him. Owen realized she was someone he was starting to trust with his life, given that she had just saved him from getting his head bitten off by a flying dinosaur.

He respected her so much, for wanting to find her nephew’s when they disappeared, and for wanting to save the whole park from the invasion of the dinosaurs. She was running wild and free alongside him; she was learning to love the dinosaurs and accept them as equals.

Not only that, but she had a better sense of what her park was all about. Owen could see that within the course of a few hours, she had grown to care more about the animals in her park and how they were feeling than customer satisfaction and numbers on a spreadsheet. She was starting to see those number as animals.

In the last few hours she had become a powerful warrior, someone strong and someone who cared enough about another person to kill for them, and that was why Owen Grady lost his mind and kissed Claire Dearing on Main Street right in the middle of a dinosaur invasion.

and why I’ve spent my whole life trying to put it into words .