Disguises: Boy to Girl

Earlier, I discuss the archetypal disguise of the girl dressed as a boy. 

The archetypal disguise of the boy dressed as a girl has an equally long tradition. Achilles is hidden among young women by his mother, who doesn't want him to go to war. Odysseus unmasks Achilles when he places a spear among a variety of goods and Achilles picks it up. In my critique/tribute to Herland--which involves a boy dressed as a girl--my primary male narrator and one of the mentors have this exchange:

Moadine said, “In the tunnel, an argument ensued. Astyanax was male, a potential warrior. He would bring danger to the sanctuary the woman hoped to find or build. They knew the story of Achilles, how Odysseus uncovered him, disguised, in a court of women, spotted him because he alone picked up a sword.”

I nodded. I knew the story. I also knew plenty of women, including a niece, who would also have gone for the sword. Just as I knew plenty of women in Troas who yearned for competitive opportunities as much as did Alim. 

Boy to girl narratives often involve disclosure due to "male" action--hence, my narrator's ruminations. The same narrator will later point out that Alim is steadily getting taller and stronger than his compatriots--despite his youth. The question, What constitutes differences between genders? arises again and again. 

After all, identifying differences is more interesting and narratively satisfying than pretending that biological and physical differences don't exist at all.

In Eli Easton's Robby Riverton, Eli Gregory's Eleventh Hour, and, for that matter, Quantum Leap's "What Price Gloria?" the sacrifices and choices of the female personas are stressed and admired. Both Robby and Miles use their female personas to showcase another side of their personalities. Since Sam is being female for the first time, the episode stresses his need to adapt. In later episodes, he wears his dresses (and flats, which he prefers) with grace and style. None of the characters show embarrassment. They use their female personas to make connections, discover international secrets, and--in Sam's case--stand-up to a sexist boss. 

At the same time, the reality of being female is stressed. The temporary use of a female name or pronoun doesn't magically negate issues like body shape or menstruation. The biological female body is applauded in these stories, not treated as an optional extra or a mass of cliches that others must go along with. It is about living, not about performing, and it is never assumed out of shame of another reality.      

Girl Disguised as Boy: Hana-Kimi Manga and 2007 TV Series

On Votaries, I just tackled Girls Disguised as Boys. Hana-Kimi is one of the seminal manga works to use this trope, so I am reposting a prior review with added notes.  

Hana-Kimi by Hisaya Nakajo is one of the first shojo series I read. I was helped in part by the local library having the complete set! 

The series is delightful. The premise: Mizuki pretends to be a boy, so she can attend a boys' school in Japan and meet her idol, Izumi Sano, a high-jumper. A few people learn her secret, including the school's gay doctor, Dr. Umeda. In fact, the idol, Sano, discovers she is a girl early on (they are roommates) but keeps her secret from others and the fact that he knows the secret from her.

One of my favorite realistic scenes--hey, I learned

English grammar from studying French.

The plots run the gamut from plausible (issues over cheating; the school contest where the "prize" is a bunch of boring pencils) to totally implausible (the local photographer decides to turn Mizuki and her friends into fashion celebrities) to cute to silly to occasionally spooky (there are a few ghost vignettes). The reliable thread is the behavior of the students--they talk and behave like teenagers.

The series is very "G"--but Dr. Umeda 

is allowed to ask the risque questions.

Yup, he smokes.

Regarding Dr. Umeda, my first reaction was that Nakajo-sensei made him gay to prevent him becoming a love interest. He is almost perfectly suited to be Mizuki's love interest since he is the one she confides in. He is also good-looking, sarcastic, and mildly insulting, making him a typical shojo/yaoi hero. And his age isn't a problem. Shojo/yaoi romances often have up to a 15-year age difference between the protagonists.

Keeping Dr. Umeda a confidant may be one reason for identifying him as gay but the series is full of operatic farce related to cross-dressing plus gender and sexual identify confusion, so his frank identification as gay makes sense (characters will occasionally break the fourth wall and inform readers that this is a SHOJO manga, not a yaoi one). I use "operatic" deliberately. The series is rather like one of those operas where men or women fall in love with boys, with boys who are actually girls, and with boys who dress up as girls who dress up as boys.

Forthright, bleached-blond 

Nakatsu is from Osaka.

The relationship between Mizuki and Sano is the touchstone for everyday reality and commonsense. And since the manga is set in (20th century) contemporary Japan, the food, settings, and references are entirely realistic. I learned a great deal about Japanese culture (which I later verified) from reading Hana-Kimi! For one thing Osaka appears to = Jersey Shore.

Note: The Japanese TV series, available on Viki, is a HOOT. It is any high school musical...on speed. It captures the high-jinks, the over-the-top scenarios, and the interpersonal conflicts. Despite the leads all being 19-25, they act like high schoolers and retain those relationships. Unlike other versions of Hana-Kimi (there are many!), Mizuki's membership in the social order is the overriding point, not merely her attachment to Sano. 

As mentioned on Votaries, there is a certain suspension of belief/disbelief with Mizuki. However, Maki Horikita does a fantastic job at adopting the posture of young males. In one scene, she sits with Nakatsu on a bench and for a moment, I thought she was one of the male characters. That is impressive! 

 

Latest Publication: A Priest in Love, A Merman with a Broken Heart

Merman in Hiding is now available on Amazon. 

Priest-detectives Rhys and Lider are currently on Earth. A family of Siphons or merpeople need them to locate a young man, Brae. The family believes Brae was kidnapped by another Siphon family to forcibly resolve a breach of promise suit.

As Rhys and Lider interrogate religious disciples, pharmaceutical representatives, and ex-lovers, they come to believe that Brae's disappearance encompasses something more  irrevocable than a broken heart. 

Rhys and Lider must discover Brae's whereabouts quickly since they are faced with an irrevocable choice of their own--and their future together.

Merman in Hiding is Book 3 in the Myths Endure on Mars Rhys & Lider Detective series. Anubis on Mars and Saint of Mars are available in one volume. The Wolf Boy Returns from Space is currently available as a single book.

The books follow a chronology. They do not have to be read in order.

I thank my brother Eugene here for his sci-fi suggestions. Any "good" science in these novellas (which are mostly story) is due to Eugene. Any dumb science is all on me. 

 

I also want to thank my brother Joe for discussing the philosophical and practical arguments that crop up in the final confrontation scenes at the end of the novella (think nutty psychologists in the early 20th century carrying out entirely unethical experiments). As with Eugene, any of the stronger arguments are due to Joe. Any "holes" in the arguments are mostly due to my characters (since certain characters would make certain kinds of arguments).     

Learning from Fan Fiction: Paul Mansell and Heyer's Occasional Pettiness

When I went to write Heyer fan-fiction about one of Heyer's mysteries, I discovered that a character Heyer disliked was truly not that unlikable.  

In They Found Him Dead, Paul Mansell is a member of a firm owned by the first and second murder victims and by a near-victim, heir presumptive to the head of the firm. The Mansells--father and son--are suspected in the murders and attempted murder since they are trying to put through a deal that the victims and near-victim oppose. 

It makes sense to suspect Paul--however, Heyer's own writing gives readers no reason to detest him so much.  

*Spoilers*

At one point, Paul Mansell, the son, gets upset at the questions posed to him by the detectives. He states that he is being offered up to them by someone they should suspect instead. 

Turns out--he is right! 

At another point, Paul Mansell discusses the supposed motive for the killings--the possible deal--with the near-victim. He points out that a decision must be made. The near-victim is right to refuse to make an instant decision. But Paul Mansell is also simply doing his job. 

And yet throughout the novel, Heyer continually has characters refer to Mansell in slighting ways. The way he dresses! The fact that he was divorced! He is oily and snaky!

It's the kind of petty high school labeling that underscores some of Heyer's work (not all) and seems to show up when she is being lazy. There's absolutely no reason for the reader to dislike Mansell, other than that the protagonists (and detectives) keep criticizing him. A writer who uses this approach runs the risk of readers beginning to dislike the protagonists. (Heyer is a good enough writer, her protagonists remain decent people though it's a close call.)

In my fan-fiction, I kept Mansell's character mostly as is except I increased his interest in cars and gave him more concrete motives: he wants the deal to go through so he can buy himself out of the firm and do something else. 

I also linked him with Trevor. Trevor is the erstwhile boyfriend of a victim's wife, Rosemary. Rosemary--who talks incessantly about her "deep" feelings throughout the novel--is quite hilariously presented (she is believably awful because Heyer shows that she is awful). 

I borrowed Dempsey for Trevor.

In my Heyer fan fiction, men can openly marry men and did so in medieval and Regency times. In a reversal of the usual pattern, modern England has become less supportive of the idea. Without the survival mechanism of earlier times--marriages performed for money and diplomacy--marriage mart lads have fallen out of style. (One reason Paul wishes to leave the firm is that he is tired of his father's pressure on him to marry a woman.) 

Trevor pursues Rosemary because it seems like the kind of thing he should do. When she throws him over--because her husband inherited a fortune--he ends up in Paul's orbit. Eventually, they form a relationship. Trevor's bluff personality complements Paul's somewhat acerbic one. Paul gets out of the firm and sets up a high-end garage for fancy cars. Trevor invests. Eventually, they marry. 

A far happier ending for those characters!     

Du Maurier's Rebecca: How Romantic Is It Really?

Rebecca is a great mystery. It is even a great Gothic novel.

Is it romantic? 

*Spoilers*

Although the wooing of the unnamed bride (I will call her JF for Joan Fontaine) is quite romantic--the classic rescue of a harassed innocent by an older man--the reason for the marriage is never entirely explained. Maxim, the angsty, grouchy groom, seems to be clinging to JF's youth and a need for companionship. As the book and 1940 film capture, after the whirlwind marriage, JF has difficulty fitting into a social class that is slightly above her own. 

The great emotional climax, of course, is when Maxim confesses that he killed Rebecca, his loathsome previous wife, because he hated her. And JF is thrilled. The passage in the book is wonderfully single-minded. She doesn't care about the murder, only, "He had never loved her--never!" 

Except...he IS entirely obsessed with his dead wife. Not only because he murdered her. He is obsessed because he can't shake how far he was deceived, how much he was mistreated, how much he feared people discovering what she was truly like. He is so obsessed with his past that when his current wife appears in the same costume as his dead wife, he gets all wigged out and snaps at her. 

Good grief, Rochester has a crazy wife locked in the attic, and he is less obsessed than Maxim! One gets the feeling that if Jane Eyre showed up in the crazy wife's costume, he would say, "Hey, looks better on you than on her--way to go!" 

It's the constant hand-wringing that calls JF and Maxim's relationship into question. It's like going on an initial date with a guy who wants to tell you all about his ex-girlfriends or all about his past relationship trauma (both experiences that I've had). And the thought occurs, Uh, I don't think you are really over any of that, and I don't really want to get dragged into it. Being in passionate love and being angrily obsessed may be different in intention. They are remarkably similar in behavior.

In fact, Daphne Du Maurier indicates that the relationship may be "romantic" in the old meaning of the term (full of melodramatic action) but not "romantic" in the modern meaning. The book ends on an ambiguous note. JF and Maxim are now living in a small hotel in Europe:

[Maxim] never complains, not even when he remembers...which happens, I think, rather more often than he would have me know. The devil does not ride us any more. Of course, we have our moments of depression...but...I know we are together, we march in unison, no clash of thought or of opinion makes a barrier between us...boredom is a pleasing antidote to fear. I have learnt my lesson [not to read items aloud that will evoke the past]. We never speak of Manderley.

She has grown up. She and Maxim will manage. That's good enough. But the image of JF having to endlessly "handle" her husband--a life in which she can never truly relax, never leave the past alone or discuss it directly, always guard her words and her thoughts (whatever she claims), constantly read her husband's emotional state as she fulfills the role of therapeutic helpmeet--fills me with bone-deep weariness. Not a smidgen of romance. 

Great Sci-Fi Couples: Cam and Arastoo

Forbidden Planet reminded me of one of my lists: Great Sci-Fi Couples

I include Cam and Arastoo on this list. Sure, Bones is a modern detective forensic show, but the very cool equipment and some of the plots have a sci-fi element. 

In truth, though, what I like about Cam and Arastoo is not so much the sci-fi part but how believable I find them. The episode in which Arastoo's parents come to town highlights the couple's compatibility. Some men marry women who resemble their mothers. Arastoo is one of them!

Cam is somewhat more diplomatic than Arastoo's mother. But she is just as tough and independent. And Arastoo, at heart, is like Booth (and Sam from Sister Boniface) and his own father: a family-oriented guy who is somewhat more laid back than his girlfriend/wife despite his personal ambitions. 

Arastoo gets upset with his parents in the episode but at his core, he is mild-mannered and big-hearted. His gentle suggestion that Cam forgive the woman who stole her identity (or, at least, walk away) is a good example of how well the two work together. 

Shakespeare's Couples: Altaira & Adams

Forbidden Planet is based on Shakespeare's The Tempest. 

I consider Altaira and Commander Adams a more than decent sci-fi couple. 

Here's why (repost form  2020):

One of the things that bugs me about many so-called feminists is how susceptible they are to superficialities.

What's also sad is how far these superficialities creep into the culture, so people adopt them without thinking. 

A few years ago, I showed a clip of Forbidden Planet in class. In the clip, Anne Francis as Altaira walks across the floor to speak to Leslie Nielsen's Captain Adams.  

"What do you see?" I said.

All the students could come up with was her short skirt--oh, it is so sexist--and her supposed demureness, based, I suppose, on her blondness and high voice. Or the fact that the man is taller than she (Leslie Nielsen at 6'1"). Or that the two hug. I really have no idea.

They entirely missed her direct gaze; her level, clear voice; her willingness to argue; her nearly proprietary caress, the fact that she controls the situation.

Anne Francis, like other great sci-fi heroines, took the role and made it her own. To miss these obvious clues for the sake of cliches is to ignore her contributions: how she helped create a great film, her steady career as a working actress.

She and a non-joking Leslie Nielsen convey a workable relationship--she isn't a damsel in distress, no matter her temporary role. She's a working partner.