Strength of Hearth

[alanajoli]

sartorias wrote an entry a few weeks ago that I missed until now, mostly wondering about whether male writers and female writers create epic fantasy differently. The conversation threads are great -- much literary analysis on the meaning of epic fantasy happens in one thread, which I found quite engaging and informative, and then wrote my response based on gut instinct rather than analysis anyway.

Here's something I've been thinking about on and off since Twostripe told me I was being ridiculous by not considering Hermione Granger a "strong female" character. (Edit: He was right. Just to make that clear. I agree with him after our conversation, and realized I was falling prey to the equation I point out below.) A lot of the definition of "strong female" character that's expected right now equates to women-who-can-kick-butt-and-take-names. It is, in fact, a kind of masculine definition of strength. In what I see as the general way this plays out is the following equation:

women with swords > women with wands > women with hearths

A homemaker is not typically thought of as a strong woman. She has a traditional female role. She's not fighting against gender stereotyping, or against orcs or monsters. She's taking care of the home front.

But you know what? That hearth is important. While men and women with swords are out there saving the kingdom from external forces, the woman at the hearth is making sure they have a kingdom to come home to.

When I responded to sartorias's post, I was thinking about the Brian Jacques novels, and about how some of the female characters are go-getters, fighting on the front lines. (In the first novel, two of the most valuable fighters are Constance Badger and Jess Squirrel; in later stories, heroines like Mariel fight with improvised weaponry to carve out their own way home.) But there are also a lot of female -- and, actually, male! -- characters who aren't fighters. They're peace-loving creatures, many of them monks, who are healers, community builders, scholars, caretakers. They're not just strong because they give the heroes strength in the this-is-what-we-front-line-warriors-are-fighting-for way. They're strong because they persevere, because they don't lose hope, and because they are able to keep hope alive for others. It's a quiet kind of strength, but it's one that I think often gets discounted (considering I have been a guilty party on that myself).

There's a lot to be said for a Hestian grounding and for strength of hearth. Since I'm coming to appreciate that idea more as a parent, I wonder if there's an additional pertinent question to tag onto sartorias's gender question: do fantasy writers who are parents write differently than fantasy writers who are not?

Comments

[alanajoli.livejournal.com]

I agree about that true strength while retaining softness -- although I admit I do like kick-ass women, too. :)

I've been thinking a lot about mothers in fiction (for obvious reasons), and I really think there should be more of them that are credited for the kind of strength required to be both a nurturer and a protector -- both of those jobs come into both mother and father roles.

[ladybird97.livejournal.com]

Your question made me think of this story: Beowulf seen as an epic about women's heroism, including the Hestian strength of childbirth and motherhood.

I haven't had enough caffeine yet to come up with any more insightful thoughts than that, but I'm looking forward to seeing this discussion as it unfolds. I'm very interested in these ideas of gendered heroism.

[alanajoli.livejournal.com]

Oh, cool link!

I hope that conversation does indeed unfold. I've been thinking a lot lately about how there seems to be only one popularly accepted version of what it means to be an empowered or strong woman, especially in fantasy fiction, which seems ridiculously limiting.

[bccreations.livejournal.com]

While I agree that the perception of what makes female characters strong is inaccurate and skewed to a male perspective, I will disagree with you that Hermione Granger is not a strong female character. She is, but so is Molly Weasley who is the embodiment of the hearth woman.

[alanajoli.livejournal.com]

Oh, I agree -- it was a dumb comment to make at the time, and Twostripe totally convinced me of my wrongness. I thought that was implied by my phrasing above, but I'll do an edit to clarify it.

And Molly Weasley is awesome.

great topic!

[asakiyume.livejournal.com]

I get the feeling that some women fear that if they acknowledge the strength that's associated with the hearth, they'll somehow be seen as accepting that as the **only** realm of female strength--which, of course, it isn't.

Yeah, for either men or women, the role of defending the home and supporting the family is a vital one, and requires strength.

I think it's harder to dramatize hearth-oriented strength and heroism. It's very easy to see what the threat and conflict is when a black knight comes to town and cuts down all who oppose him; it's harder if the threat isn't a weapon and resistance isn't in the form of a fight. However, it's most certainly **possible** to tell a story that's gripping even without clear externalized threats and danger.

Re: great topic!

[alanajoli.livejournal.com]

I'm not sure about this, but I think that the story of Gorgo as added to the film 300 (it wasn't in the graphic novel) works as hearth drama -- and while I'm not sure I think the denouement worked, the essence of it is there: while the king is fighting the battle against the enemy, the queen is fighting the battle against her husband's detractors at home.

And I think you're right about the sort of stigma attached to acknowledging the hearth as a form of strength. But I think it's equally limiting to go the other way. Valuing the female warrior above all other strong women also seems to reinforce the idea that traditionally male roles are more valuable than traditionally female ones -- which robs women of their power in a different way.