Fantasy, feminism, and philosophy
Recently, I picked up two novels published in the late 1980s by CJ Cherryh. I’ve been avoiding reading books since I finished my dissertation, as the act of opening a physical book seems a little too reminiscent of work, no matter the content - I’ve been enjoying audiobooks, but find it more difficult to listen to fiction than non-fiction, and so my consumption of published material has been skewed one way for several years.
I decided to break that cycle by returning to one of my pre-teen loves, which I read voraciously: high fantasy, the kind of novels with swords and sorcery right there on the cover, in all their pulpy ‘80s glory. I am a fast reader and can finish a ~250-page novel in an evening, given few interruptions, so long as I am hooked. I was looking for that hook.
I found it! And one other book by the same author, which I thought was high fantasy, but turns out to have a science-fiction, world-hopping backdrop. But I also am now armed with a lot more knowledge of feminist theory and the rise of women’s and feminist fiction* (well, science fiction) during the ‘70s and ‘80s, and so I found myself reading with an eye to the representation of women and a constant feminist narrative analysis going in the back of my brain (don’t be sorry; it was rad as hell). It takes a lot more for me to be satisfied with a narrative these days, and it’s not necessarily any sort of literary snobbery on my part, although I do consider myself to have higher standards now. I will read the pulpiest genre fic that I can find, but I will only truly recommend it if I find something redeeming in it - and not just plot and characters. I’m looking for a specific kind of feminist philosophy in the narrative.
Seems like a lot to ask from genre fiction, right? But to me (and to scholars in the entire discipline of English literature going back centuries), stories aren’t just stories: they’re vehicles embodying cultural attitudes and messages about the way the world works. Even a hastily-written piece of flash fiction will still contain the author’s biases and worldview in it, from the characters, the plot, and down to the words they choose to use (or avoid). Science fiction are stories (often) told in the future, but they are actually about present issues; fantasy are likewise stories (often) told in the past, but they reflect the author’s (and audience’s) view of and struggles within the present.**
And so I couldn’t help thinking, as I was reading, about my thesis’s second chapter, which was all about gender and post-apocalyptic science fiction during feminism’s second wave, because I think there’s a fair amount of those conclusions which are cross-applicable to fantasy from the same period.*** Not to put too fine a point on it, but post-apocalyptic sf is itself a fantastical narrative, and though it’s not “fantasy” as we think of the genre, it certainly draws from some of the same imaginative sources.
Some background
I’m gonna try to keep this brief, not least because others have written on it better and more comprehensively. In 17th century Europe, the Western scientific enterprise as we know it today was coalescing, and unfortunately for all subsequent practitioners of science, the values of 17th century European cismales were hard-coded into the philosophy underpinning the scientific worldview. Hence fun things like scientific racism, eugenics, devaluing animals and nature, and sexism, which keeps cropping up throughout the subsequent centuries, and is also what I’m going to focus on now.
You know what else was happening in 17th century Europe? Witch hunts. I’ll spare you a history lesson about it but in short, that’s the background cultural context of what was going on at the time. The milieu of misogyny, you might say. Carolyn Merchant, who wrote a pretty foundational ecofeminist text tracing this history, points to the writings of Francis Bacon as instrumental in advocating for “the control of nature for human benefit” in which he “used the language of nature as female to articulate an experimental philosophy that would extract nature's secrets.” (ENVIRONMENTALISM: FROM THE CONTROL OF NATURE TO PARTNERSHIP, 4).
Said foundational text. Read it here!
Merchant argues that scientific discourse about nature codified the gender of nature as a female to be exploited, inviting abusive interrogation much in the same way as a torture victim on trial for witchcraft; her link between women’s persecution and the ramping-up of the exploitation of nature is echoed by socialist ecofeminists such as philosopher Val Plumwood in articulating the fundamentally misogynist underpinnings of a rationalist economics system that glorifies a separation of (masculine) intellectual reason from denigrated (feminine) bodily situatedness. Thus developed a scientific ethic that saw no problem with manipulation and use of the earth to satisfy scientific curiosity and capitalist gain within a patriarchal system of society.
Still with me? The female-nature connection in western culture is actually a lot older than 17th century, but before the industrial revolution there was emphasis on the mystery and power of nature and the life-giving capacity of women, which inspired respect or, at least, fond feelings for a “Mother Nature”. This crops up a lot in a lot of fantasy narratives, by the way, since most of them are set in a pre-industrialized past and also in some post-apocalyptic sf that assumes a catastrophe of some sort will set humanity back a millennia or two and with it will come this older worldview. Merchant argues that this older attitude served as a “cultural constraint” on the actions of human beings, since “[o]ne does not readily slay a mother, dig into her entrails for gold or mutilate her body” (Death 3). The advent of the industrial era and of scientific inquiry was made possible not just by advances in technology but in a philosophical shift in attitude to view feminine nature as inviting—and deserving—of violation by scientific and technological enterprises - which were, of course, male-coded.
Feminist critiques of (old) feminist fantasies
These two different attitudes - let’s call them the science fiction (post-17th century) and fantasy (pre-17th century) attitudes - aren’t as different as they might seem at first glance. Both adhere to an essentialist logic that is hierarchical, valuing “masculine civilization/culture” as inherently superior to “feminine nature.” I’m just going to mostly quote my thesis in the next two paragraphs here:
Essentialism understands “the feminine” as a repository of unchanging truths, determining substances, and ground of being, quite literally: it holds the historical European cultural conflation of women and nature as truth, and radical feminist political thought (and many feminist utopian fantasies) of the 1970s leaned into this binary, but flipped the moral hierarchy. Publications such as Mary Daly’s Gyn/Ecology: The Metaethics of Radical Feminism (1978) and Starhawk’s The Spiral Dance (1979), for example, embraced the identification of non-human nature and the feminine, celebrating the power of chthonic forces, the moon, fertility, and historical goddess worship. Radical, goddess, and other essentialist feminisms drew on deep ecology, following the same binary logic as Francis Bacon did, but reversing the moral weighting, holding the “male” forces of civilization, culture, and science as bad, or at least incredibly sus, given their collaboration with/outright endorsement of the systematic oppression/torture of women and the earth, if not the very reason for women’s suffering. Ciswomen’s bodies, traditionally the reason for their exclusion from cismale-only spiritual and intellectual spheres, were instead celebrated by some feminists as the ground of human life and part of the mystery of creation itself. ***
Feminist community based on an essentialist notion of cisfemale experience was and is a fantasy that, in addition to being violently exclusionary to trans and genderqueer persons and invested in creating and maintaining a distance between ciswomen and all others, at base replicates the same power structures that fuel patriarchal ideology, only with the values reversed. There is still a hierarchy in place, a flipped version of the fantasy attitude: there is the same conflation of women with nature and its consequent essentialist logic. Female empowerment is crucial to the realization of women’s full humanity, but its celebration at the expense of others leads directly to an ideology of exclusion, perpetuating the structures of oppression that make it necessary for female empowerment in the first place.
For example, some questions that bubble up when I encounter certain stories ask things like, Is this lady knight actually a strong female character, or a vehicle for a male power fantasy with a ciswoman subbed in and nothing else changed? Is this story about a witch/sorceress/magick-user main character really compelling, or is it subject to tropes from both the science fiction and fantasy attitudes, so she is either an evil conniving force to be subjugated (or romanced, depending on flavour) or a mystical feminine cipher in touch with the natural world…. or both? Both happens a lot.
In my thesis, I have a whole paragraph following those paragraphs on essentialism to disclaim that I’m not dissing the enormous contributions of many writers to fantasy whose works completely upended the hierarchical gender binary, boldly challenged gender roles, and stomped all around a genre that up until the ‘70s was almost exclusively made up of male writers. I’m convinced that we’re politically and socioculturally in those authors’ debt! I’m just skeptical of the fantasy genre because of the abovementioned history of the fantasy attitude. In my view, it takes an author who has an attitude (fantasy OR science fiction) that is consciously disloyal to its own roots in essentialist, sexist nonsense to write a narrative that isn’t fundamentally regressive.
Moar, tho…
It’s nice to fantasize about a world where the people whose gender that we identify with are pedestalized, taken care of, comforted, respected, given the benefit of the doubt, empowered, etc. Especially in this day and age when the demands of neoliberalism and late-stage capitalism pile up into an exhausting, overwhelming, threatening force against which it feels impossible to stand alone. Escaping into a world where powerful women are actually respected and can make tangible change in the world (through politics, or magic, or swinging a big sword around) is pretty great.
But it’s not wrong to demand more of our narratives. It’s not wrong to be critical of something that you love (I often joke that it’s the things that I love most that get the most harsh criticism). It’s not wrong to ask that the stories that I read articulate a non-binary, non-hierarchical society that people of all genders can move freely in, instead of being expected to act a certain way (and punished if they don’t perfectly conform).***** Flipping the gender hierarchy just isn’t enough anymore and isn’t even all that feminist, in the end.
In any case, I can highly recommend the work of CJ Cherryh; I think even thirty-five-odd years on, it still holds up because of the way she writes her characters, regardless of gender or age, as human beings and not essentialist tropes. I’m not surprised she won the Hugo, multiple times. She seems to have an underlying philosophy that values humans for who they are, not who they are supposed to be dependent on their predetermined roles in society.
What are some fantasy novels you would recommend? I’m not a huge short-story reader, and I’m a fan of wordplay and have spent the last eight years or so thinking about novels written by and for people living in the 1950s-80s. I need some good contemporary stuff! Or perhaps there are classics I am missing out on? Let me know in the comments!
PS: I’m indebted to the works of Donna Haraway, Celia Åsberg, Myra Hird, Helen Merrick, Élisabeth Vonarburg, Joanna Russ, Carolyn Merchant, Lisa Hogeland, and way too many others to list for influencing the direction of my ruminations here. Any issues are a result of my taking research on historical Canadian SF and bending it to apply to fantasy.
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*They aren’t the same. It’s akin to assuming all Jewish people are Zionists. One is an identity category, the other a political one.
**Caveat: I’m not saying authors of sff sit down and are like “ah yes what issue griefing me right now am i going to put into this book” - it’s usually a subconscious thing. Sometimes authors do that! But it’s rare.
***Again, they aren’t the same: I’m not a scholar of fantasy, merely an observant fan who has a bit of a scholarly background in another genre literature.
**** This attitude is alive and well today in the politics of trans-exclusive radical feminists (TERFs), a subgroup of radical feminists whose reification of biological essentialism leads them to deny trans peoples’ identities. Fuck TERFs. Their philosophical worldview is warped.
******It’s also not wrong to love something even though it’s Problematic (tm), or just want to turn your brain off with a fluffy read. So long as you’re self-aware.