Women of the Year: A Retrospective 2019

In the middle of the year, I has planned to start this annual post by saying 2019 was the year of giving with one hand and taking with the other. Now I'm more inclined to say that 2019 was the year male writers took a long hard piss over the three most iconic female characters of the decade.

Granted, I haven't seen The Rise of Skywalker yet, though my friend was able to break it down for me in great detail, and I've spent the last few days fluctuating between "well that doesn't sound SO bad" and "for the love of God, what the FUCK??"

I was mostly saved by the fact that I have been steadily (even subconsciously) disengaging with Star Wars since The Last Jedi, and the final few trailers for The Rise of Skywalker pretty much sealed the deal. I'll watch it eventually (and perhaps even do a more in-depth review) but that'll be months from now, once the final shreds of investment are gone and the on-line fandom meltdowns have ceased.

But for now a part of me is genuinely hurting, knowing that the brave girl who once snatched a weapon out from under the man who tortured and terrorized her and used it to defend herself against him, is ultimately forced by the sequels to form a quasi-romantic attachment to that self-same man who has spent the better part of this trilogy violently assaulting her both physically and emotionally. It's pretty sick-inducing, even if she IS finally free of him by the end.

All I can do is walk away thinking that at least Rey got off lighter than Black Widow, who joined Gamora at the bottom of a cliff to save Jeremy Renner, or Daenerys Targaryen, who had to be put down like a dog because women can't handle power, strong emotions, heredity madness, or... I dunno, PMS? We may as well throw in ALL the misogynistic cliches.

As of now, I feel utterly wrung out by these big franchises and their complete inability to do right by their female characters. I'll have more to say (or rant) about later, but for now here are the runners-up for women of the month. Pickings were slim, I'm afraid.

Astrid from How To Train Your Dragon trilogy

The How To Train Your Dragon franchise came to a close this year, not just with The Hidden World, but the holiday short Homecoming. Across the three films (and the television shows) we've watched the young protagonists grow from preteens to parents, as well as through considerable character growth.

In some ways, the optics of Astrid's story weren't great. As with Tigress in Kung Fu Panda, Astrid was a young woman who excelled at what she had been trained to do from a very early age - until a boy comes along and upends her ambitions by changing the very nature of their societies.

It's like an inverse of Trinity Syndrome: instead of a skilled female character being upstaged by a male one with less reason to be the story's Chosen One, a female character that has worked hard to live up to the expectations of her community (which don't seem to have any gender biases) finds that everything she's worked towards is negated by a guy moving the goalposts.

The similarities between Astrid and Tigress's portrayals (you're allowed to be really cool, but a male character has just rendered your achievements obsolete) are striking enough to be mentioned, but I don't want this entry to come across as too negative, since I really did enjoy Astrid and her arc.

On paper it doesn't sound too promising: the most popular girl ends up with the nerdy dork who's had a crush on her for years, yet in practice there is enough nuance for it to transcend the teen-movie wish-fulfillment cliché. She's observant enough to notice when Hiccup starts acting strangely, and open-minded enough to accept his new outlook on dragons.

Her ice queen persona starts to melt over the course of the trilogy and there's a sweet moment in The Hidden World when she credits Hiccup for making her a stronger, better person. Like Eowyn before her, Astrid is smart enough to see a happier, healthier path to take.

And yes, I'll probably always be annoyed that it was Hiccup instead of Astrid who becomes the new Chief of Berk in the second movie (because man did they lay the groundwork for Hiccup to point out that it was Astrid who had the neccesary qualities to take that role) but I'll always appreciate a partnership of equals.

Wyldstyle/Lucy from The Lego Movie 2: The Second One

I had no idea what to expect when I sat down to watch The Lego Movie 2, but it certainly wasn't this: an astonishingly "woke" critique of the previous film in regards to its portrayal of Lucy, a.k.a. Wyldstyle.

As good as the first movie was, there was one obvious problem: that its female lead was a near-perfect example of Trinity Syndrome: a female character with talent, experience, confidence and purpose... who still had to play second-fiddle to a less interesting, less talented, less accomplished male protagonist.

So my ears pricked up when this film depicts Wyldstyle being confronted by another female character in the first act, who points out the frustrating sexism of this trope, telling her: "so you fought and masterbuilt and kicked butt, and then the hapless male was the leader?"

Hah. They acknowledged it. That's probably going to be it, right? Well, it turns out that after Lucy is kidnapped by Queen Watevra, she takes control of the situation and tries to find out what's really going on. Nice, I thought - they're letting her do more this time around. But sooner or later Emmett is going to show up and save the day.

But through a twisty series of events, it turns out Queen Watevra isn't the bad guy of this particular story, and Lucy's insistence on Emmett becoming more grim and tough and mean has terrible consequences. He screws up, and it's Lucy's fault for trying to inflict her grimdark mentality on him.

This is the part where Emmett comes in and rescues her with his boundless optimism and charm, right? WRONG AGAIN. It's Lucy that once again takes charge, finds a way to escape an impossible situation, and ends up saving Emmett.

Her actions drive the plot. She makes a mistake that results in character development. When Emmett is in mortal peril, she shows up to rescue him. Phil Lord and Chris Miller could have heard the Trinity Syndrome complaint and made a quick passing reference to it, but instead they took it fully on board and wrote their screenplay around fixing the problem. Every time I thought they were going to pull back, they just pushed harder. This is Lucy's movie from start to finish. Reader, I gasped.

Queen Mary from Reign

I finally completed all four seasons of Reign this year, and man this show was an odd duck. Plots and characters disappeared whenever the writers got bored with them, costumes and attitudes were swiped from a Hot Topic store, and even though the show hit most of the big events of Mary's life, such was its tone that you were always kept in suspense over whether it would remain true to historical precedence, or whether a ghost or witch or alien spacecraft would zoom in and shake things up a bit.

And at its centre was a queen we all knew was doomed, a woman largely recognized as one who had no sense of self-preservation, who made a string of terrible decisions that led directly to her own downfall. To make her the protagonist of a CW period drama instead of the more obvious choice - her cousin Elizabeth - was an interesting gamble.

How did the show tackle the inherent failure of Queen's Mary's reign? Beyond the ludicrous costuming, hairstyles and other anachronisms, the show seemed most interested in women, their relationship to power, and how it could compromise their sense of self. It wasn't always done elegantly, but this underlying theme was always there.

Of course, any power women wielded in those days was filtered through men: Mary and her handmaids had to look to husbands, brothers and lovers to help them climb the ladder of court intrigue, which came with its own price. The difference between hard and soft power, and the complications in wielding each one was also an interesting topic, especially once Elizabeth appears.

The show was totally bonkers ninety percent of the time, even as it ticked off the main events of Mary's life: her marriage to Francis, her complications in Scotland, and her inevitable demise. But through it all was Adelaide Kane as the show's beating heart (with Megan Follows as its conniving brain). There was nothing like watching her seated upon various thrones, looking imperious and vulnerable at the same time.

As Genevieve Valentine put it in this review:

Adelaide Kane has been almost invisibly good at playing Mary; unless the dialogue is truly wooden, she’s sold more changes of heart, misguided efforts, ridiculous machinations, overdramatic pronouncements, and heartbroken stares than should ever have been asked of her. Full marks.

Eleven from Stranger Things

It's been three seasons, so it's definitely time to talk about Eleven. In many ways her story is hardly original, as young girls whose innate preternatural abilities are exploited by shadowy governments are a dime a dozen. Just off the top of my head I can think of Max (Dark Angel), X23 (X-Men) and River Tam (Firefly).

It's pretty much an established trope, though Eleven skewed even younger than most. The combination of psychic powers and aching vulnerability makes for potent characterization when it comes to Eleven: on the one hand, she can (and has) killed people with her telekinesis, on the other, she barely knows how to verbally communicate and has no understanding of the outside world at all.

But children are adaptive and resilient, and luckily Eleven finds herself under the protection of three boys her own age, from whom she begins to absorb an understanding of trust, friendship and the power she wields.

Three seasons have seen her grow from a frightened test subject to an assertive and increasingly confident adolescent: a girl who defies her jailers, finds her mother, seeks out her own people, and (in this latest season) finally establishes a strong friendship with another girl her age.

I've already talked about female friendships earlier in the year, and I appreciate that the Duffer Brothers not only recognized the importance of such things, but that they allowed it to grow organically from Eleven and Max's awkward first meeting. It made sense at the time that Eleven would be dismissive of Max, and it also makes sense that she would go to her for advice and companionship after a squabble with Mike.

And there was nothing cuter than watching Max introducing her to Wonder Woman as they curl up in bed together.

It's unclear what the next seasons will hold, especially since the show is relying more and more on treating its characters like a true ensemble, but I hope the Duffers return to things such as Eleven's mother and the rest of the inmates at the Hawkins Laboratory (Kali!) Though they weren't well received on their first appearance, they make up an intrinsic part of Eleven's story, and I want to learn more.

Anne Lister from Gentleman Jack

I had never heard of the real-life Anne Lister before the announcement of this show, but the more you learn about her the more fascinating she becomes. Born in 1791, Anne Lister was a landowner in West Yorkshire, who kept extensive diaries that detailed her business dealings and private life - specifically, her relationships with other women, which were written in a code not cracked until the 1930s.

She was a woman of multitudes, being in the business of coal-mining, dressing like a man (resulting in the nickname "Gentleman Jack" from her neighbours), and going on several long voyages across Europe, but she was also a political and social conservative - perhaps because she knew it was her class status that protected her life of eccentricity. It all amounts to a compelling character study that's brought to vivid life by Suranne Jones, who captures everything from her masculine bawdiness to her desperate loneliness.

She takes up room, seduces women, seeks out knowledge, confronts at least one rapist, and it's sadly an all-too-rare sight to see a woman in her forties leading such a vibrant, exciting, fulfilling life. Was there any scene more iconic that her inexplicable insistence on taking a giant thermometer with her on holiday? Classic.

Detective Karen Duvall from Unbelievable

I hope and pray I'm never the victim of a serious crime - but if the worst happens, then I'll also hope and pray that I get a police investigator like Karen Duvall. Unbelievable is not an easy show to watch given it focuses on the victims of a serial rapist and police incompetence in helping one of his youngest victims, but worth it for the depiction of Karen and her partner Grace Rasmussen.

In order to extricate herself from police harassment and skepticism, Marie Adler confesses to making up the very-real rape she was subjected to. But thankfully (though entirely without her awareness) two detectives are pursuing her attacker in another county entirely, and the difference in the way Karen and Grace handle the fear and trauma of victims is pronounced.

Karen is soft-spoken, patient, empathetic and non-judgmental, letting each woman process in their own time, and providing support that is is personal without being non-professional. She's also a woman of faith in a profession that wouldn't necessarily be very conductive to religious belief, though she manages by tying it to her sense of duty, as seen in the Biblical quote fastened on her dashboard: "Here I am, send me," from Isaiah 6:8 (which is apparently on the dashboard of Detective Stacy Galbraith, the real detective Karen was based on).

It's a beautiful performance of a rare type of female character: quiet and modest, but undeniably heroic because of these traits rather than in spite of them.

Demelza from Poldark

Poldark ended its fifth and final season this year, so this is my last chance to play tribute to Demelza Poldark née Carne, the long-suffering wife of our main character.

On the whole Poldark was quite good with its female characters, from the charismatic Caroline (accurately described as a woman desperate to hide her soft heart), to the ladylike Elizabeth (who never managed to overcome the restrictions of her life like you'd expect from a typical period-drama heroine) and even gentle Morwenna, whose meekness belied her strength at surviving horrific abuse.

But Demelza was really the heart of the show, she of the copper-red hair and beautiful singing voice, who went through the most drastic change over the course of the five seasons, from feral runaway to respected gentlewoman (not that there's anything wrong with being a feral runaway).

But she was certainly a woman who contained multitudes, who at times could be a tempestuous wife, loving mother, loyal friend and resourceful woman of her own mind. Given her life and circumstances (an impoverished woman living in the 18th century) she certainly wasn't breaking any glass ceilings, but there was a quiet, consistent dignity about her, even in her moments of bad judgment.

Sister Michael from Derry Girls

Derry Girls was a total delight in its first and second season, capturing (as was pointed out on Tumblr) the very distinct brand of self-absorbed stupidity that resides in each teenage girl. And boy, probably.

As the Derry Girls go about their lives in the midst of Northern Ireland's Troubles, they are safe in the knowledge they have a guardian angel watching over them: Sister Michael, a nun and the principal at Our Lady Immaculate College.

Just kidding, Sister Michael barely tolerates them.

In fact she barely tolerates anything, including the students, her colleagues, her job and her religious calling. She gets some of the best lines - heck, some of the best scenes (as when she laughs to herself while reading The Exorcist on the bus), though every now and then she'll let a glimmer of pride shine through at the girls' antics, whether it's sticking up for a closeted lesbian or skipping school so they can see President Bill Clinton.

Here's a compliation to enjoy:

Nia Nal from Supergirl

When I first heard that Supergirl was including a transgender character, as played by a transgender actress, I was a little apprehensive. Supergirl isn't exactly subtle when it comes to its Very Important Messages, and I was afraid Nia would end up as more of a statement than a person.

Thankfully I was wrong, because Nia is a fantastic addition to the Supergirl cast, whose identity as a transgender woman is certainly a part of her characterization, but by no means her defining trait. Introduced as an intern at Catco World Media, Nia quickly strikes up a friendship with Kara, one based on their very similar personalities.

As they grow closer, Kara learns more about her new friend: that she's half-alien, that she has powers of precognition, and that she has aspirations to be a superhero in her own right.

Nia gets a strong arc across the course of season four, one that includes a strong friendship with Kara, a blossoming romance with Brainy, a yet-to-be-resolved conflict with her sister, and a greater understanding of her own place in the world. It was so much more richer and nuanced than I had expected, so I'm looking forward to seeing her in season five.

Christina Romney from The Losing Christina trilogy

This year I revisited a pulp fiction trilogy I hadn't read since I was a teenager, and was struck by just how memorable its young protagonist was. All these years later, and I well remembered her raw determination and fighting spirit.

Christina Romney is thirteen and leaving her small island off the coast of Maine to attend high school. She's accompanied by other island students, all of them staying in the house of the school's principal and his wife.

The story becomes a psychological thriller when Christina starts to believe the Shevvingtons are deliberately gas-lighting their young lodgers (specifically, her friend Anya) into believing they're going mad. Naturally nobody believes her, and so Christina is left to fight alone in a disturbing battle of wills against two adults who have absolute power over her.

As the Shevvingtons wear down the fragile Anya, Christina fights tooth and nail against them, calling on inner reserves of stubbornness, mental strength and even willful brattiness as her weapons, even as her parents, classmates and other teachers are turned against her.

But even with the entire world against her, she doesn't loose her capacity for kindness. Her best moment is when a friend's mother lends her a beautiful skiing outfit for a school trip - but once she gets there she realizes Anya's boyfriend is at the resort, and so gives up the outfit so her friend can look her best. Naturally, all her classmates think she was lying about the new outfit, but she does the right thing anyway.

It's this that stayed with me all these years: her strength in doing these acts of kindness in the face of her peers' ridicule and her guardians' cruelty. If you get a chance, track down these extremely pulpy, but surprisingly powerful books. Christina is worth it.

Kyoshi from The Rise of Kyoshi

I'll admit that I wasn't hugely intrigued by the glimpses of Kyoshi we got in Avatar: The Last Airbender, as of all the past Avatars I was most interested in it was Kuruk (specifically his history with Koh the Face-Stealer, one of the show's best villains).

But Kyoshi's mark on her world was pronounced, being the third most recent incarnation of the Avatar, and someone whose influence could be seen in groups like the Dai Li or the Kyoshi Warriors. She was a recurring feature of Aang's world, was revealed to be bisexual in The Legend of Korra comic books, and certainly carried enough narrative weight to be considered for two YA novels that explore her reign as Avatar.

In the show we only ever saw her in her prime, as a powerful and respected Avatar, whereas The Rise of Kyoshi depicts her as a homeless child, a servant to the man everyone thinks is the new Avatar, a confused young woman who realizes her true potential, and an increasingly powerful warrior out for revenge.

The novel can be neatly divided into two parts: the first deals with Kyoshi's early life, in which she's taken into the Avatar's household only to realize in horror that she might be the true Chosen One, and the second when she goes on the run after the secret gets out, only to fall into bad company. Her impoverished childhood and neglectful parents are touched upon, as is her bisexuality and struggle to use her abilities responsibly.

Kyoshi herself is a fascinating character. Her height makes her self-conscious but also confident. She despises her parents for abandoning her, yet comes to a greater understanding of them in time. She hates the idea of being the Avatar, but revels in the power it affords her. I was surprised at how complex she was, and how wonderfully F.C. Lee's prose brings her to life.

There is so much more to her story and personality than what the show was able to afford her, and there's still more to come in a follow-up book!

Hazel Wong from Murder Most Unladylike

If you have not yet read Robin Stevens's Murder Most Unladylike mystery series, then you should, as Hazel Wong is a complete delight. Set in the 1920s, Hazel is a young Chinese student that's been sent to English by her Anglophile father to recieve a proper education at Deepdean's School for Girls.

A hopeless fish out of water, who finds the culture and people completely baffling (her first experience with hockey is hilarious) things only start to improve when she makes friends with Daisy Wells, a wealthy young heiress who is haughty, arrogant and vain - but also very good at solving mysteries. Joined by this shared interest, the girls start to investigate various mysteries that pop up around their school (not to mention trains, country houses and Oxford University).

The best part about Hazel's story is watching her grow from a wilting violet to a much more confident young woman, who can stand up to the imperious Daisy, not be self-conscious about her identity, and use her talent for reading people and understanding motivations to assist in cases.

She's a wonderful character, and I would love to see Kelly Marie Tran in this role; she'd be utterly perfect. And Daisy Ridley as Daisy Wells! She's already got a matching name, and we'd finally see the two of them on-screen together! I'm a genius!

Elsha from Winter of Fire

This year I read the republication of Sherryl Jordan's Winter of Fire, and like the Losing Christina trilogy I was astonished by how much detail I had retained since I was a teenager. This is surely due to its protagonist, a young slave girl who has a strange and dangerous journey ahead of her.

Living in a world divided into the Quelled (slaves) and Chosen (masters), Elsha is one of millions that mine the mountains for fire-stones, a resource that provides necessarily light and heat to a world that no longer has a visible sun.

Among these Quelled is a teenage girl called Elsha, who feels in her bones that this is not how the world should be, and that somehow she will be called upon to change it. Then, on her sixteenth birthday, she is selected as a handmaiden to the Firelord: the most powerful Chosen of them all. He alone has the power to divine for the life-giving fire stones, and his selection of a Quelled for the position of handmaiden is unprecedented.

Hatred and fear follows Elsha wherever she goes, but she is committed to the Firelord's work and eager to learn what she can. With a foot in each world, not belonging to either Chosen or Quelled society, she slowly begins to discover her own innate gifts, and what they might mean for the future of her world.

Elsha herself is a fantastic heroine: brave and determined, selfless and assured. There's the usual YA tendency to have every male character fall in love with her, but it's not overstated, and Elsha herself remains grounded and three-dimensional.

It's definitely not a particularly nuanced book, as Jordan's depiction of slavery is incredibly simplistic (and just as easily solved) but there's something about Elsha that sticks with you. If you check out the reviews on Amazon.com, you'll find nearly each one starts with reminiscing about how they read Winter of Fire as children/teenagers, and how deep an impression it made on them.