Gendergeek has just put up issue 8 of the Feminist carnival. Topics include: Labour market, Domestic labour, Culture and aesthetics, The geeks, Gaming and fanfic, Discrimination against lesbian women, Blogging for Choice, Relationships and singleness, Sex-positivity and porn, Violence and religion, and Farewell.
Month: February 2006
What's in a character, anyway? [Gender in Indigo Prophecy, Part 2]
This post contains potentially game ruining spoilers. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! You have been warned.
The first thing you notice in Indigo Prophecy is that there are three playable characters: Lucas Kane, unwilling murderer and first person you play as; Carla Valenti, the only woman you control; and Tyler Miles, Carla’s (junior) partner. A ratio of 2 to 1 favouring males isn’t exactly equal, but with the way games run these days I should probably be thankful that there’s a woman at all, much less one who wears weather appropriate clothing and has realistic sized breasts.
The Heroes
Lucas, Lucas, Lucas… You begin and end with his character, and the conclusion to the story is told from his perspective. With the most screen time and the most prominent position in the story, he is undeniably the main protagonist.
If one was expecting him to be the paragon of masculinity, that idea is shattered within the first few minutes of the opening. While he doesn’t break down and cry after killing a man, he certainly does his share of freaking out here and there throughout the next couple chapters. He is not afraid to admit emotion to himself; indeed, a couple of ways you can depress him is by having him look at pictures of his parents or of Tiffany, his ex. Nor does he seem to have qualms in to sharing it, as he is always frank with his brother Markus. He even owns and plays a guitar, and you know how girly the sensitive artist types are (I kid, I kid, but the stereotype of the sensitive artist type is definitely invoked).
Throughout the game, though, you find that his virility is beyond reproach. Once he gets over the worst of his angsty woe-as-me depression, he gets not one but two women. The first is Tiffany, his ex. If you give the right answers when she comes to get her boxes, Lucas ends up sleeping with her and she stays the night. Later on, regardless of what happened at the apartment, she hides him from the cops and tells him that she still loves him. Right after Tiffany meets her untimely demise, Lucas starts macking on Carla. This leads to sex, Carla’s admission of love, and eventually them getting married.
The ability to get laid is but one way his manliness is assured. Once his wrists have healed, you can have him beat the crap out of his punching bag. And, when I say, “beat the crap out of it,†what I mean is, “kick it clear across the room.†It’s not long before Lucas graduates from punching bags to Matrix-esque martial arts and acrobatics. By the time the game is over, he has done a full-blown Dragon Ball Z transformation, fully equipped with the ability to charge his power to throw a death-dealing ball of energy at the Oracle. No one’s gonna challenge the masculinity of a guy that powerful.
Do Lucas’ traits merely make him a well-rounded character, or does the need to establish his physical and sexual virility say something deeper about gender relations in Western society? I recently criticized conflation of female sexuality with female power in my last instalment of Girls & Game Ads, and I can’t help but feel that Lucas’ situation is the male side of things. In contrast to the women (who are seen first and foremost as sexual and secondly as powerful), his physical prowess is focused on with his sexual exploits are minor asides in his storyline. Given the nature of gender roles, I don’t find this difference very surprising. Men, after all, have a history of being valued for their physical and mental abilities, while women are lauded for their beauty.
None of this is to say that I find Lucas’ character as unduly problematic, or so stereotypical that I found him hard to relate to. I enjoyed his blend of weakness and strength. For all the flaws, I enjoyed his relationships with Markus, Tiffany, and Carla. I did think that, overall, he was a well-rounded, three-dimensional character. It’s just that, taking his character in the context of Western culture, a closer examination of his traits and relationships reveals some interesting assumptions about masculinity.
I’m sure this will come as a shock – shock! – to all of you, but Carla was my favourite character. When I first rented the game with my friend, we would always choose her character to follow first. She was strong, independent, and a natural leader. Things I like to imagine myself being, I suppose. As the game progressed, though, I saw her being caught in more stereotypical traps and I despaired. In the end, I still loved her. She may have brought some T&A to the party, but she was still Carla.
Always the one with a good head on her shoulders, Carla sidesteps the “annoying emotional sidekick†stereotype and falls squarely in the “obsessive work-oriented cop†one. To me, it was refreshing to not have to think about who she was attracted to. I breathed a sigh of relief when it was made clear that any relationship with her partner was thankfully out because of his long-term girlfriend. For the first half of the game, nary a mention was made of Carla having any romantic attachments or inclinations, save for a mysterious e-mail from Tommy.
Oh, Tommy, how can a gay man be the harbinger of doom for Carla’s love life? It was through the non-threatening, homosexual friend that the player learns that Carla is yearning for a man. To be fair, Tommy (like most of the characters), is also attached – he talks about his new boyfriend. It was during that conversation that I knew a part of independent, “I don’t need a man to be complete,†Carla was gone forever. Having Lucas call her to talk sealed the deal; I didn’t even have to see that “moment of affection†in her apartment with him to know that she was going to get with him.
Aside from the final scenes, which are told almost exclusively from Lucas’ point-of-view, the balancing factor is that Carla retains her distinct personality. Throughout the game, she gets a lot of airtime to show off her strengths. I felt the creators took pains to give her an equal part in discovering of clues, in putting them together, and solving the case. There seemed to be a conscious balance of physical strength/dexterity with her intellectual pursuits, as well. I’ll get into a few more specifics with Part 4 of the series, but I noticed that she was the one who was associated with the shooting mini-game. Near the end, she also finds pieces to jury-rig a radio with – a technical task that is traditionally allocated to a man.
Like Lucas, I found Carla to be an overall well-rounded character. Despite relying on a few stereotypes for her characterization, she was more often than not portrayed as an independent woman who was important for what she did, rather than who she did.
Thinking back on my runs through the game, it strikes me that some of the most vivid memories of Tyler as a character I have are in relation to either Carla or Sam, his girlfriend. Indigo Prophecy does its share of defining women through their relationships with men, which I’ll get to later, but it does its share of defining men through their relationships with women, as well. While I’d argue that Tyler is characterized primarily through his race, taking a close second for defining who he is would be his interactions with the women in his life. I suppose that, if anything, is telling.
In many ways, Tyler is a masculine character: he played basketball in college, he likes video games, he wants to protect his woman, and he, not Carla, drives when they go together to a crime scene. But he is also the empathetic one: on the crime scene, he’s the one who chats with the forensic guys; he’s the one who gets the composite from Kate; and in the end he is supposed to follow his heart and go with his girlfriend to Miami (even if you choose not to do that, his plot is over at that moment).
I liked Tyler. He was a funny guy. He was a people-person who wasn’t afraid to do a little grunt work. Ultimately, though, at least in terms of gender, he wasn’t very memorable as a stand-alone. Most of what I have to say about him will come in Part 3 of the series, because I believe that he is best defined through his relationship with Carla and Sam.
Supporting Cast
Though not as important as the playable characters, the supporting cast still a large part of what a player gets out of the game. They are more likely to fit into stereotypes, as the writers don’t have as much screen time to develop them in, and which paradigms are chosen can reveal much about gender interactions.
Markus Kane
Markus is Lucas’ brother, and his confidant throughout the game. His association to Lucas puts his life in jeopardy, which recalls a lot of the “love interest as target†stereotypes, and in the end he makes an appearance in the underground camp to show the player that he made it through okay. Though I would argue that he is less important to the plot than, say, Tiffany, he is the only non-playable character given a blurb in the manual.
Tiffany
Tiffany is Lucas’ ex girlfriend. I don’t recall if the reason for their break-up is ever really explained, but, like Markus, Lucas’ enemies target her. Unlike him, though, she dies while Lucas tries to rescue her. She lives and dies attached to Lucas, a typical feature for the supporting females of childbearing age.
Sam
Sam is Tyler’s girlfriend. They are exclusive, live together, and plan on having a family. Like Tiffany, her role is defined solely by her relationship with Tyler. She constantly worries about his work, and in the end is the deciding factor in the wrap up for his story.
Agatha
Agatha is too old to be defined as someone’s lover, so she is safely put into another category: wise woman/spiritual advisor. She, too, dies because of her association with Lucas. Later on, her visage is used by the Purple Clan in an attempt to get Lucas to do what they want him to.
Jade (chosen child)
The opposite of Agatha, Jade is too young to be defined as someone’s lover. Instead of that, however, she becomes the paragon of female virtue: she is a lifeless conduit for male power. She is the keeper of the secrets of the universe and “he†(language used in the game, also all those after her are male-bodied) who possesses her secret is given unlimited power. She has no personality, and is constantly referred to as a “pure soul.†Once her task is over, she dies. It is highly disturbing that a girl-child with no agency of her own is used to consolidate male power and then is discarded once her role is finished.
Tommy
Tommy is Carla’s gay friend/hallmate. He has a bit of a political purpose – his relationship with his boyfriend is used to illustrate continued homophobia in Western culture – but ultimately I see him as a non-threatening way to reveal Carla’s single status and set her up for her relationship with Lucas.
Drive-by Characters
Most stories have people who appear only in cameos to emphasize a point, or drive the story on. These characters are generally only important because they represent the breakdown of the world at large. Indigo Prophecy is no exception, but I’ve broken the characters into two groups: people in power, and incidental characters. The gender makeup of these two groups sets up the backdrop and can often last a lasting, if not conscious, impression on the player.
People in power:
Though the world of the game is set up to reflect ours, I was somewhat shocked to find that there was only one person in power that I could find that was female. It was one of the voices of the Orange Clan (one of five or six total). The Oracle is male, the Purple Clan AI is male-bodied, the police chief is male, Sgt. Robert Mitchell (worked on a ritual killing case prior to Carla and Tyler) is male, and Bogart (bum and head of an underground organization that helps Lucas and Carla at the end) is male. Where are all the women? Male-dominated or not, this is the 21st century and women do hold positions of authority. By not showing any women in these important positions, it sends the message that it is normal to see men in power, but not women.
Incidental chars:
Even in the memorable but incidental characters, the split is obvious: Kate the waitress versus four guys. Martin Mc Carthy, the cop from the diner, shows up more than once. As do Garret & Frank, the forensic guys, and Jeffery, the basketball guy. The person working at the morgue was also male, come to think of it. As were most known perpetrators and victims of the ritual killings: Lucas/male victim, both were male in the Kirsten case, and it was only the Laundromat with a female victim that bucked the trend.
Conclusion
In the end, I guess I have to say that I find the characterization in the game problematic but not irredeemable. I would hazard a guess to say that the script writers thought that they were being all equal by having a main female character who was strong, intelligent, and non-hypersexualized, as well as a supporting cast that had a decent amount of women on it. And I recognize that, and appreciate it. It’s a better representation than most games I’ve played. But it’s no Beyond Good and Evil, where it had all that and didn’t define women mostly by their relationships, and had a visible representation of women in power. For Indigo Prophecy, I have to say: it’s a start, but you have a long way to go, baby.
Fantasy Women [REPOST from Shrub.com]
Note: This article was originally written on November 01, 2005 as a Shrub.com Article. In my process of switching all articles over to this blog, I will be reposting old entries. What follows is in its original form without any editing.
While in the midst of writing my Girls and Game Ads series, I found myself going off on a tangent on the depiction of women in the fantasy genre and how it helped lead to the rise of the “girl power” paradigm we find deeply enmeshed in current Western pop-culture. While the whole “chicks in chainmail” deal was already being challenged by fresh authors and ideas by the time I got into fantasy, it remains an important part of the genre’s history. It is this idea that I will be addressing in this article.
My first real introduction to the fantasy genre as a genre in its own right was Ursula K. Leguin’s Earthsea series. While the way she used her female characters never sat right with me, nevertheless I believe it to be significant that my initial contact with the genre was divorced from one of its staple stereotypes. It wasn’t until I got into Dragonlance that I was introduced into the idea of “chicks in chainmail”. There, however, it was the art that emphasised that rather than the authors; Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman’s portrayal of their female warriors was pretty close to being gender neutral and most definitely didn’t fetishize them into “babes in brass bra bikinis” (to steal from Esther Friesner). Other Dragonlance authors varied in their representation, but even though I eventually quit the series I never felt that they had betrayed me to the stereotype. Indeed, partly because I’m not so much into high fantasy and partly because I tend to unconsciously seek out female authors, I don’t have much in my extensive collection that fits this paradigm.
Nevertheless, simply being immersed in fantasy culture is enough to make one aware of this stereotype. Even if not for the D&D books I briefly owned, or the fantasy genre video games I played, I still would have been aware that the books I chose were still not the “norm” for the growing genre. One of my favourite series, in fact, is a collection of parody stories: Chicks in Chainmail, Did You Say Chicks?!, Chicks ‘N Chained Males, The Chick is in the Mail and the newest one, Turn the Other Chick. These stories helped me to see that the harmful stereotype goes deeper than just the flagship “warrior babe” (fully equipped with scanty armour that wouldn’t protect a fly, let alone a human being) and into every aspect of the traditional genre, from the sexualized warrior women to the meek healing sidekicks. Not long after this, I was shown two other great series (Tamora Pierce’s Song of the Lioness quartet and Patricia C. Wrede’s The Enchanted Forest Chronicles) by my fantasy loving friends that, while not parodies per se, turned the stereotypes on their ears. Though already past the targeted age for Young Adult books, those series appealed to me on a highly personal level and continue to enthral me even now. Good writing, it seems, knows no age boundary.
While the expansion of the fantasy genre and, I would argue, the increasing inclusion of women’s voices, is beginning to erode the vice grip the “chicks in chainmail” paradigm has on the literary genre, it seems that instead of eradicating the stereotype all that is happening is that it is being transferred to other forms of the genre. Even today, you can still see it as a common theme with popular artists such as Luis Royo and the combined talents of Boris Vallejo and Julie Bell (a tagline in their footer even proclaims: “Beautiful women and heroic men”). The video game industry uses the model for everything from E3’s “booth babes” to Blizzard’s Night Elves. Hollywood has even picked it up with characters like Buffy (her television counterpart being less of a parody than the original movie), Leeloo from Fifth Element, and a whole host of characters from film adaptations of comics and video games.
Gaming Communities: Real or Imaginary? [REPOST from Shrub.com]
Note: This article was originally written on May 05, 2005 as a Shrub.com Article. In my process of switching all articles over to this blog, I will be reposting old entries. What follows is in its original form without any editing.
Why is it that the most visible critiques on video games come from people who are obviously not even casual gamers? I always hear “violence” and “sexually explicit content” thrown around without the writer having an understanding, or offering an in-depth critique, on what those words mean for video games. I find that these so-called “anti-game crusaders” often buy into alarmist extremes, thereby misrepresenting the influence of videogames, without ever asking why such a correlation exists. Most times, this perspective misses the intricacies of the games and, in the case of online games, the gaming communities.
It’s understandable, then, when I lumped a Vancouver Sun article entitled “Those MMORPGs: Threat or Menance?” (March 24, 2005, A13) written by Erin Morisette, a political science undergrad, into the same category. Morisette seeks to prove that MMORPGs (Massively Multiplayer Online Roleplaying Games) are “sedentary, solitary and anti-social, offering little in return,” or so the subtitle under the header would have us believe. While I can’t argue with the sedentary aspect, I find it hard to believe that anyone could accuse online gaming of being “solitary and anti-social.”
I suppose the pertinent question to ask, then, is “What makes a community?” For Morisette, one requisite is that it be in a tangible environment that enables the “developing of essential social skills or connecting with their real communities and cities.” What only someone who has played an MMORPG can fully understand, though, is that the games are designed to discourage progressing without the help of others. Most online games, and especially MMOs, are not for the anti-social; the whole point of being online is interacting with others! One of the staples of MMOs are online groups (guilds, linkshells, clans, etc) that give players a community, oftentimes of like-minded people, with which they can chat and play with beyond meeting people at random. Morisette goes onto criticize these games for being “effective at isolating and disconnecting players from their real-life communities because of their design,” again playing into the extremes and missing the fact that often parts or whole of real-life friendgroups will play together. I, for instance, play on a World of Warcraft server in the guild of one of my friends and will soon be starting a character on another server to play specifically with my mother and her boyfriend. Many people in my guild play with real-life friends, and I would be playing with more of mine if I had started playing sooner and tried to encourage us all onto one server.
To be fair, Morisette does admit that not all gamers tend towards the extremes, and that games can be fun. Yet, she is unaware of, or ignores, that some MMOs fit into her wish that the technology being used in “creative ways [that] contribute to the success and interconnectedness of future communities that will be dominated by today’s youth.” While the gaming communities are in no way better or worse than other kinds of community, one benefit of meeting people online is that you aren’t immediately aware of their physical aspects – gender, race, age, etc. These environments provide a way for players to connect to people outside of their immediate vicinity, giving them access to a wide variety of people with their own ideas and experiences. This gives you the opportunity to be friends with someone who you would never meet in real life because many real life communities tend to be on the homogeneous side. MMOs also develop teamwork, since having an effective party is an essential part of most gameplay, as well an understanding of social mobility and hierarchy as one levels and, in their guild community, becomes better known and higher rank. There is also the possibility of being ostracized, or in extreme cases punished by a GM, if you don’t play nice. Those who exhibit selfish and anti-group traits often find themselves kicked out of parties, guilds, and thereby effectively cut off from levelling in the game. Most online games also have guidelines on language and harassment, which is not always effective but with such large environments, as in real life, it is hard to deal with every occurrence quickly and easily.
In the end, though, while Morisette did bring parents into the equation I am disappointed that yet another article blames video games for being entertaining rather than blaming parents for letting objects do the parenting for them. Video games, surprisingly, are not the root of kids problems. Neither is television, or pornography, or D&D, or books, or sports, or any other entertaining hobby. These are merely tools for spending time, all of which develop different skills and can be good in moderation and bad in excess. Every aspect of life deserves to be critiqued, and video games are no exception, but this alarmist malarkey is old, tired, and completely off-base. Parents, you want your kids to lead an active lifestyle and be involved in your community? Don’t take away their video games, but do your bloody job and make sure they engage in a wide range of different activities, get involved in their life (if that means playing video games too, then you should make the sacrifice; you might find you enjoy it), and stop looking for a scapegoat for your own failings – be an adult and admit that you’re not perfect.
An Open Letter to Geeky Guys (Non-geeks may learn something, too):
Listen, I’m really glad that some of you are into the whole gender deconstruction thing. I think it’s great that you don’t want to just oogle the pixeled female bits. Really. But, guys? It’s not so cute when all your ‘deconstruction’ does is reaffirm women’s position as Second Class Geeks.
What am I talking about? Well, you can find examples on it all over the net. You can find one on this blog, addressed to your gaming cousins. For a more recent, and in-depth example, let’s take I Enjoy Playing a Girl from the latest Escapist issue.
Like most of you, Chris Dahlen, the author, has his heart in the right place as far as I can tell. He says things like, “I have to believe any serious gamer would rather roleplay their characters than ogle them,” and, “[f]or all our assurances that men and women have the same talents and potential, treating them exactly the same feels like ducking an issue, rather than leveling a playing field.” I think he hits on what could be a very insightful argument, if you know, he had bothered to flesh it out. The myth of gender equality through equal stats is an issue that deserves attention.
But, apparently in this male-normative society, that’s too much to ask from your average geek male writing on women’s issues. Wait, wait, wait. What’s male-normative? Basically where men are the default and women are the Other (sort of what Dahlen’s entire premise is for his article). Well, let’s just take a look at Dahlen’s language for an example, shall we?
He gives his potential male characters a wide variety of personalities: “Am I the noble hero?” he asks himself, “A backstabbing thief? An insecure wisecracker?… [A]n alpha male…?” So, what does he say of his female characters? “[P]laying a girl puts me in far more neutral territory.” As the default for human, the man gets to choose from a range of archetypes that come easily to Dahlen’s mind. The woman, as Other, doesn’t get to do any of that “normal” stuff; she gets to be “neutral territory.” I’d also like to point out that it falls into mandatory gender roles: the active male versus the passive (neutral) female.
His language is your language, guys. Your gut reaction, I’m sure, is to step up and say, “No, I’m not like that!” Maybe you’re not. Maybe you are. But, ask yourself, do you hear it when other people do it? Can you find other examples of it in his article? If I hadn’t pointed it out, would you have even thought twice about what he said?
Another thing to chew on: when you’re like “omfg geek girls rawk plz introduce for a date” it’s not endearing. In fact, it is another way you reduce us to the status of Second Class Geek. I can hear it now, “Why can’t you just take a compliment?!” Or, “Jeez, don’t be so sensitive. I would kill to get that kind of attention.” I’m sure you would. And I’m sure to you it would be as flattering as you mean your comments to be. But, just sit back and think on why that is. Here’s a hint: Your personal agency in geekdom is never questioned, but ours is always qualified by hypothetical male attraction/attachment.
Let’s see this at work, shall we? Again, I’m going to pick on Dahlen. He says [emphasis mine]:
Geek guys don’t look up to the high school quarterbacks that smacked us in the locker room; we’re more impressed by the complicated but confident geek girls, who actually talked to us in the library and always seemed more sure of themselves than the rest of school, no matter who teased them. And now they can slay giants. Who wouldn’t want to be one of them?
Now, the whole “sexy (geek) girls who kick ass” thing he invokes has its own problems. Ignoring that, however, let me just say something…
We
Are N-O-T
Geeks For You!
Is that clear enough? Is it? I really hope so, because I am going to pull out my Sword of Smiting with a +5 modifier against Privileged Asshats on the next geeky man who thinks geeky women are good because he might get a date. If I sound hostile, try having your geek status always put second to that of your sex/gender for a few years and see how happy you are.
I am sick of my status as Second Class Geek. I am sick of beeing seen as the hawt girl geek. I’m not a geek for the dating pool. And, you know what? Treating me as if I am? So not helping your case. We female geeks are geeks because we have geeky interests. Period. You would do well to remember that next time you want to open your big mouth and reduce us to T&A.
(Hat Tip: New Game Plus)
Radical Women of Color Carnival: 1st Edition at Reappropriate
The first edition of the Radical Women of Color Carnival is now out at Reappropriate. The carnival discusses: the internet and the power of blogging, resolving race, Coretta Scott King, poetry, abortion, privilege, comfort women, and more.
