The Bechdel Spectrum

via Bitch Magazine:

If you’re on a site about feminist response to pop culture (spoiler alert: you are), you have probably heard of the Bechdel Test for movies. Conceived in Alison Bechdel’s Dykes To Watch Out For, the test is simple: to pass, the movie in question must feature a conversation between two named female characters that is not about a man. It’s a good indication of whether or not a film is at all concerned with women, or if its focus is entirely on men. It’s deceptively simple; upon hearing this for the first time, I thought “well, surely almost every film must pass!” But no.

While I am not the movie writer in residence here (check out Snarky’s archive for that!) I’ve found that it’s easily applicable to other forms of media, including television! It’s not a standard I apply to every single episode of every single television show I watch, but more of something that occurs to me while I’m watching. “Oh,” I’ll think while watching Tami and Tyra talk about college on Friday Night Lights. “This episode clearly passes the Bechdel test! Awesome!” The Bechdel test is not a way to tell whether or not a show is feminist—that depends on the viewer’s interpretation of the show and their definition of feminism—but it’s a good way to gauge the development and value of female characters on the show.

But one conversation in one episode doesn’t bear the same importance to the entire series as one conversation in a movie. A movie is usually 90 to 120 minutes, but a show? A single episode is 43 minutes long, but a season is usually a minimum of 300 minutes. While a three-minute conversation about something other than a man has weight in a movie, it doesn’t quite cut it for a series.

So if one conversation in one episode doesn’t cut it, what does? How does a television show pass the Bechdel test? To fully pass the Bechdel test, every single episode must feature a conversation between two named female characters that is not about a man.

This may sound stringent, and it is. Off the top of my head, I can barely think of a show that would easily pass this. But at the same time, it’s not unreasonable. One 30-second conversation about mothers, or daughters, or female friends, or goals, or cleaning, or even Applebee’s, in every 22 or 30 or 43 or 60 minute episode is not that hard of a requirement to satisfy. And the fact that this demand is completely out of line with what’s actually on television is an indication of the shitty state of television as much as whether any of these shows are well concerned with women—much like the film industry. But since no television shows can really pass this test, how can we look at how well they do relative to other shows?

Unlike movies, which pass or do not pass, television shows exist on a Bechdel spectrum. No conversations between women not about men ever would be at the very dim end of the spectrum. And at the almost unrealistically bright end of the spectrum is the standard outlined above.

At the low end are series with none to few qualifying conversations. Most shows will have an episode or two that pass—I’m pretty sure I’ve seen a stray episode of Family Guy in which Lois says something horrible about Meg that doesn’t have anything to do directly with men. Some of my favorite shows fall on this end: The Office has some decent lady characters, but it’s mostly about dudes—I can’t offhand think of any episodes that pass the Bechdel test despite having seen the entire run of the show multiple times. Shows with a couple of even cardboard regular female characters will inevitably have some kind of conversation after a long enough run.

Shows that are patriarchal in nature—centered around the stories of men—do not necessarily disregard women altogether and fall nearer the middle of the Bechdel spectrum. Friday Night Lights and King of the Hill (two of my favorite shows) are primarily about the work, friendships, and lives of men, but treat the women in those men’s lives with respect and consideration, and develop their lives and interests independent of their husbands, sons, and boyfriends. Lost definitely had some Bechdel passing episodes early on, but as it became more and more heteronormative, it had less and less conversations between women that weren't about husbands, lovers, fathers, or sons.

Nearest to the bright end of the spectrum are shows that are primarily concerned with the lives and work of women—those that make a point of focusing centrally on female characters. Mad Men is a good example of this; though it’s set in a world that explicitly belongs to men, Peggy, Joan, and Betty frequently have conversations about work, mothers, daughters, religion, and themselves. Weeds was a very effective example of this in its excellent first three seasons: when the point of Nancy’s character was her resourcefulness and not her sex appeal, she often had interesting conversations with Celia and Heylia. These shows don’t always pass the Bechdel test, but do pass at a much greater rate than typical television fare.

But centralizing a show around a woman does not a guarantee it’ll be Parks and Rec: 30 Rock’s Liz Lemon rarely has lady-centered conversations with the only other regular female character on the show, Jenna.

So what does the bright end of the spectrum look like? What show is concerned heavily enough with women that it passes the Bechdel test in every episode? I can only think of two as of this writing: The L Word and United States of Tara. Though it’s got the occasional dude, The L Word would fail pretty hard at being a show about lady-loving ladies if it didn’t pass. While I critiqued USOT pretty heavily for its ableism a few weeks ago, it’s still a show I deeply enjoy for the thoughtful relationships it’s developed between the protagonist and her sister and daughter.

'Who's the best Vampire Dad?'

via Ms Magazine Blog:

If you have been following pop culture over the past 5 years, you probably know the genesis of vampire fathers: He’s the vampire who turns you into a vampire via toothsome bite. The most popular contemporary vampire series, Twilight and True Blood don’t feature any vampire mothers. But they do present us with a number of good, even godly, vampire fathers. Twilight’s Carlisle Cullen is a perfect undead dad to permanently teenage vampire Edward. And when Bill Compton (above), the hunky undead leading man of HBO’s True Blood, becomes a reluctant father to vampire Jessica, he steps up quite well.

Cullen Family: Emmett Cullen, Rosalie Hale, Esme Cullen, Edward Cullen, Carlisle Cullen, Alice Cullen, Jasper Hale

It’s clear Twilight author Stephanie Meyer would put Carlisle up for the prize for best vampire dad. He literally MAKES his vampire Brady-Bunch family (right), by, yes, turning people into vampires. How preferable to having to reside in one of those icky woman-wombs for nine months! And, in a saga that so values the sex-free life, he is a surprisingly good matchmaker, turning first the seductive Rosalie into a vampire to provide his century-long-virgin-son Edward an opportunity for bumping uglies, then, when that doesn’t fly, voting to make Bella undead. (Imagine if he sought sex partners for DAUGHTERS–now that would likely cause quite the stir, no?)

Even the non-vampire dads in these series compete for best dad status. In Twilight, Charlie is a benevolent dad to heroine Bella Swan, giving her the space and independence most teens desire and even supplying her with cool wheels. Billy Black is touchingly protective of both his werewolf son Jacob and Bella, and Sam is the dedicated, if overly authoritarian, muscle-daddy of the werewolf pack. True Blood is full of touchingly queer fathering arrangements: queer cook Lafayette serves as a quasi-father to his cousin Tara, shapeshifter Sam acts as dad to waitress Arlene’s kids when she is on a bender induced by an evil manead (don’t ask!), and the town yokel Hoyt plays the role of compassionate, forgiving father-figure to his unlikeable mother.

But, if I had to pick a vampire daddy to call my own, I would pick the surprisingly progressive Bill of True Blood. Despite his reluctance to vamparent, he is patient with his new vampire daughter, Jessica, helping her to find a synthetic blood she can tolerate and carefully teaching her the rules of vampire life. And, with heroine Sookie’s help, he recognizes Jessica is a sexual being and does not go all Edward-in-Twilight-crazy with talk of her “virtue” or how sex will damn her soul. The final episode of Season Two included a particularly touching scene where Bill and Jessica are each dressed to the nines for impending dates. Bill tells Jessica “you look quite the vision.” She worries this is a nice comment to soften his coming complaints about her dating a mortal (the goodhearted-but-hapless Hoyt). Instead, Bill admits “times have changed” and tells her “I hope you and Hoyt have a nice time.” What a nice trade from dad as quasi-virginity warrior (a concept Jessica Valenti explores in her book The Purity Myth). I would much prefer this kind but not-overbearing Bill to Carlisle’s creepy matchmaker habits!

The uber-pale good vampire daddies in Twilight and True Blood certainly outclass the bad vampire dads of older texts. Such narratives represent vampire dads as crazy, violent and racist (as in the 1987 film Near Dark), as creep-fest, power-hungry patriarchs (1987’s The Lost Boys), or as tooth-happy ghouls who turn innocent girls into wanton, lustful beasts (as in Stoker’s paradigmatic Dracula). In contrast, the human daddies are the bomb. In Near Dark, for example, protagonist Caleb is turned back into a human by his kindly father. Daddy even saves Caleb’s vampire love Meg, who turned Caleb into a vampire in the first place. How sweet.

While these dad-savior that populate vampire narratives are appealing–they allow us to envision fathers who approve of our chosen mates (as Bill and Carlisle do) and granddads hip enough to recognize the local teen bike gang is not what it seems (as in The Lost Boys)–they fail to have equally satisfying mother figures. They reveal the sad fact that our culture still assumes that fathers, even when vampires, werewolves, or shape shifters, know best.

Twilight takes “father-knows-best” to an extra level of creepiness with the notion (one fostered by Freud and certainly held by many Mormon polygamists) that females are seeking daddies via their romantic relationships. In a horribly irksome piece originally posted at Save the Males (who knew they needed saving!), writer Henry Makow argues that men “ought to be more ‘father-like’ in their approach to women;” they “should seek younger women who ‘look up’ to them.” Meyer seems to agree with this notion, providing Bella with a man who has 100 years on her and matching up baby Renesmee and toddler Claire with much older wolves via the imprinting meme (were the wolves “imprint” on a mate – a sort of love at first sight which involves male wolves imprinting on much younger female humans). Such May/December romance is only natural, according to Makow:

Many men want a daughter-figure, someone who will demonstrate the loyalty, trust and devotion that a girl feels for her father. A man wants to be affirmed in his authority as husband and father, not mothered like a child.

So there you have it people: If you are a hetero woman, go find yourselves an older daddy-man to look up to! If you’re not hetero, you can read more (PLEASE DON’T!) from Makow on how homosexuality is destroying capitalism, the family and the world.

To close, here’s hoping that you, dear readers, have a good father or father-figure in your life to celebrate this Sunday. And, nope, I don’t mind at all if that figure happens to be a vampire, werewolf or even a woman! Seems to me we should celebrate parenting in general rather than gendering the phenomenon.

Top: Vampire daddy Bill Cullen helps his charge, Jessica, find a synthetic blood she can tolerate. From Flickr user darkchachal under Creative Commons 2.0. Right: Cullen family from Flickr user edwardcullen97 under Creative Commons 2.0.

Here come the sparkles...

'Bella's Eclisped Role In Twilight Lacks Fangs'

As The Twilight Saga: Eclipse hit theaters this week, fans and critics alike anticipated a film packed with both more action and more romance, and they weren’t disappointed. But feminist critics ought to be, as Bella (Kristen Stewart) continues to be less a person than a puppet, a character who is pulled from scene to scene, rarely making a move except at someone else’s suggestion or desire. She is not a contributor to the action sequences and is a prize, not a participant, in the love-triangle romance around which the series revolves. When all is said and done, Bella isn’t much of a hero.

As I pointed out in the Spring 2009 issue of Ms., Twilight saga author Stephanie Meyer wrote on her website that she sees Bella as a feminist character because, for Meyer, the foundation of feminism is being able to choose. But if this is the criterion, there is still little to indicate in Eclipse that Bella is much of a feminist. Bella makes few choices. She allows others to manipulate her throughout much of the film and, when finally confronted with making one very important choice, she insists that even this decision has been preordained, manipulated by forces outside her control.

The film centers on the life-altering (or ending) decision Bella must make–choosing between chivalrous, reserved vampire Edward (Robert Pattinson) and hot-blooded, muscular werewolf Jacob (Taylor Lautner). If looked at from a less romantic perspective, one might suggest she take a breath and reconsider making any choice at all. The fact is, both men show signs of becoming potentially abusive partners.

For example, only moments into the movie, Edward disables Bella’s truck in order to keep her from visiting Jacob (a trip endorsed by her father, the local sheriff), because he feels it is “too dangerous” for her. Later, in another attempt to “keep her safe” from some impending danger, he whisks her off for an impromptu visit to see her mother, never giving her the whole story nor giving her the opportunity to make her own decision about whether to stay and face what is coming or to move out of harm’s way.

Jacob is no better. Not only does he insist that he knows Bella’s heart and mind better than she does with an ongoing “you love me, you just don’t know it yet” routine, he goes so far as to force himself on her, kissing her even as she resists him. As noted in my Ms. New Moon review, it isn’t as if these two haven’t gotten physically close, and it’s obvious that Bella sends mixed signals, but by now everyone on the planet knows that no means no. Like Edward, Jacob isn’t offering Bella the chance to make her own decisions so much as he is trying to force his desires on her.

For her part in this whole three-way “romance,” Bella seems content to dither about, playing with both men’s hearts. She accepts Edward’s marriage proposal one evening, only to passionately kiss Jacob the next morning in order to ease the pain he feels upon finding out about it. This isn’t an empowered, “choosing” moment for Bella; she kisses him because she can’t think of anything else to do.

Finally, near the end of the film, Bella must choose between her two suitors. And yet when this big, empowering moment arrives, Bella offers an explanation for her choice that lets her off the hook. Melissa Rosenberg’s script doesn’t have Bella spell things out quite as clearly as Meyer’s narration in the book. Here we have Bella talking in circles about her love for Jacob and what might have been. In the book, Meyer makes it clear that Bella places the blame for her choice on something outside her control.

Bella is the narrator in the Eclipse novel, and she says, “If the world was the sane place it was supposed to be, Jacob and I would have been together. And we would have been happy. He was my soul mate in that world–would have been my soul mate still if his claim had not been overshadowed by something stronger, something so strong that it could not exist in a rational world” (599).

It’s hard to hurt one person by choosing another, and by placing the blame for choosing Edward over Jacob on the insane, irrational world in which she lives instead of on her own needs and desires, Bella abdicates responsibility for that choice, making it no choice at all. If the foundation of feminism is being able to choose, as Meyer insists, and one chooses not to choose, then what sort of feminism is that? It may seem romantic to be swept away by forces outside your control, but it’s not empowering.

One wishes Bella would take control of her life rather than let others make decisions for her or act as if her destiny is preordained. Of course, as anyone who has read the entire saga knows, Bella’s character takes a dramatic turn in Breaking Dawn, the most controversial book in the series. While she’ll never be a feminist hero, and some of the choices she makes makes in Breaking Dawn stir up feminist debate, here, at last, Bella begins to be an active participant in her own life, instead of the passive recipient of others’ well-meaning intentions. That final book will be split into two films, the first of which is expected to be released in 2011.

'Consent and Manipulation in Olivia Munn's Playboy Shoot'

via:

When Playboy offered Oliva Munn the chance to pose nude on the cover of the magazine, she declined. When Playboy offered Munn the chance to pose clothed on the cover of the magazine, she accepted. But once Munn got to the set, Playboy’s photographer, stylist, and team of handlers staged a day-long attempt to coerce Munn into taking it all off anyway.

Munn details the event in her book Suck It, Wonder Woman!: The Misadventures of a Hollywood Geek. After signing a comprehensive contract specifying which specific areas of Munn were on-limits and off for the photographer—side boob and underboob, yes; nipple, butt crack and vagina no—Munn describes all the ways Playboy attempted to convince her to show what she didn’t want to show. Munn presents this as a lighthearted story, but it’s actually a pretty frightening account of how manipulators attempt to coerce their targets into consent:

STAGE 1: Control. Prior to the shoot, Munn requests her “normal glam team—makeup artist, hair stylist and wardrobe stylist,” but the Playboy photographer insisting on using his own stylist for the shoot. The photographer “was really pushing his stylist on me,” Munn writes.

STAGE 2: Denial. Once Munn meets the stylist, a “tall, heavyset, bald man from Scandinavia with a very heavy accent,” the attire was “nothing like we discussed.” He “quite horrifyingly” offers up “a black, fishnet, one-piece bathing suit where you can see everything going on” for Munn to wear. On top, the stylist explains, “you would be wearing nothing under here and then your boobs just hang right over ze pink part.” Writes Munn: “Here we are, contracts decided, conversations spanning weeks about this day, and everyone has a different agenda.”

STAGE 3: Social pressure. When Munn insisted that this was a “non-nude shoot,” the stylist told her that in Playboy, “you show everything!” Munn says she felt “woozy” explaining her contract and “tried to understand what the hell was happening.” The stylist then told her that the photographer “says all nude today for Playboy. It’s Playboy!”

STAGE 4: Appeal to her sense of trust. After Munn calls her publicist to come advocate for her on the set, the photographer offers this compromise: “Oh, yeah, you’ll be nude but we’ll just Photoshop everything out.”

STAGE 5: “Accidental” exposure. The photographer continues to insist on poses that aren’t in Munn’s contract: “The photographer isn’t doing much to help ease the tension. He wants me to pose nude, while strategically placing my arms and legs; my publicist of course doesn’t. He wants to do a shower scene nude with strategically placed bubbles and steam on the glass; my publicist of course doesn’t. It’s exhausting. All the while I’m trying to pose flirty, fun, summery with about five dudes—strangers working the set—watching my every move. One of the shots has me without a top and my long, thick hair covering my breasts. The whole time I’m worried about the wind blowing, exposing a nipple, the filthy five and the photographer snapping away because that’s the shot he wants.” (Playboy ended up publishing shots of Munn with only her hair or limbs covering her breasts).

* STAGE 6: Downplaying her concerns. The photographer and stylist “insist they’ve shot more revealing stuff for Esquire and GQ.”

* STAGE 6: Silencing. Munn feels “afraid to speak up and yell at everyone because it would ruin the shoot,” she writes. “I’m the one who sets the tone and energy on the shoot. If I show everyone I’m upset, the shoot will spiral downward faster than it already has.”

* STAGE 7: Anger. Late in the shoot, the stylist throws a fit. “I am a great stylist,” he announced. “And this is not all about Olivia okay? It iz about me, too! I have my own motivations with this shoot and I’m going to get what I want out of it! Zis iz Playboy!!! She haz to be naked!”

* STAGE 8: Condescension. The stylist indignantly informs Munn’s publicist that she could pick out the panties, if she thinks she knows so much.

* STAGE 8: Abandonment.The stylist storms out.

Munn finishes the shoot, writing that she had “managed to bury my feelings deep, deep inside”. After the shoot, she says, “I wanted to break down crying.” When she woke up the next day, she got an email from the photographer telling her they didn’t get an adequate cover shot, and they needed her to come in again the following week.

Almost Perfect: Transphobia explored in young adult fiction

via:

ALMOST PERFECT

A Novel by

Brian Katcher

Young Adult Fiction is usually defined as novels aimed at an audience between 13 and 20 with the main characters being adolescents. It's one of the few parts of the publishing industry which has actually greatly grown in the last 15 years. As digital publishing proliferates and production costs greatly diminish, Young Adult Fiction is expected to come out with many more titles in the near future, becoming an even more dominant sector of the industry. Moreover, unlike mainstream adult fiction, which is increasingly constrained by marketing strategies, Young Adult Fiction is often not afraid to tackle "problematic content" such as sex, drugs, parental abuse, eating disorders and LGBT issues.

Because these books are being read by a demographic characterized by their increased brain capacity, social intensity, insecurities, hormonal drives and fanaticism about their passions, fiction encountered at this time of life tends to make a huge impression and impact on an individual's views and sense of the world. It should come as no surprise how such books about trans issues or depicting trans characters will also have a profound influence on how their readers ultimately experience our community (although it could be argued that many of the teens reading such books are those who are already theoretically sympathies towards trans people).

In this essay, and in a follow-up one next week, I'll be discussing one very impressive new work about a trans girl character called "Almost Perfect" and two slightly older novels which deal with a trans youth called "Parrotfish" (2007) and the award-winning book "Luna" (2004). All three works are targeted at roughly the same age range, albeit it with varying levels of sophistication. The books all have their strong points (incorporating a genuine sensitivity to trans experiences) and limitations (they all involve white characters). There is, needless to say, a desperate lack of fiction about trans teens of color, something I'm hoping digital publishing, and it's ability to narrowcast for specialty audiences, will help rectify.

Small Town Missouri, not a great

bastion of trans-related fiction

Almost Perfect by Brian Katcher takes place in the tiny rural town Boyer, Missouri with its own mini high school of 400 students. But it's not far from Columbia, Missouri, home of the University of Missouri (more commonly known as "Mizzou") a kind of progressive beacon which figures prominently in the book. Almost Perfect centers around the character of Logan, a senior who lives with his single mom in a mobile home (yes, she's a waitress at the local diner), runs with the school's hapless track team and is still devastated by the breakup with his long-time girlfriend, ice queen Brenda.

Into Logan's world comes Sage, a tall, freckled redhead with a quirky sense of style and cheeky humor who's the new girl in a school where everyone else has been together since kindergarten. Sage becomes Logan's lab partner (heavens to Twilight!) and there is, yes, immediate chemistry in the biology class. For the first time since his breakup, Logan comes out of his depression and becomes obsessed with Sage who, while very outgoing and fun in class, is reserved in one-on-one situations and had been home schooled for the past 4 years for mysterious reasons. Her family moved across state from a larger town to sleepy Boyer and Logan can't stop wondering why.

Early on in their friendship, Logan invites the parentally-cloistered Sage to a movie (she sneaks out with her sister's help). Logan is instantly rebuffed when he attempts to kiss her and is mystified why Sage's freshman little sister, Tammi, has seemingly way more leeway from her family than the 18-year old Sage. In starts and stops, the two young people are drawn closer and closer. The day after Thanksgiving, Logan confides all his shameful secrets to Sage... his ex cheated on him and his dad abandoned their family. The next day, Sage calls Logan to her and shares the reason for her homeschooling and strict upbringing. You guessed it, Sage tells him, "I'm a boy."

Almost Perfect rather brilliantly focuses on Logan's conflictual attraction-repulsion towards Sage better than any other book on trans issues I've encountered. He immediately leaves her and is disgusted and confused by his love for her. The author creates an excellent portrayal of erotically-charged transphobia. Logan has shame for being genuinely drawn towards Sage and, at the same time, profound shame for the shabby way he's treating her.

As the book develops, Sage and Logan end up visiting Mizzou together and, due to his sister's ministrations, end up spending the night together with an intimate, physical (yet non-sexual) connection. Laura, Logan's very accepting sister, inadvertently finds out about Sage's trans history, tells her brother about it and now Logan must deal with the fact that "his secret" is shared by another human being. His inner conflict about Sage and his knee-jerk reaction towards her becomes more intense. Without giving too much of the story away, there is a bashing and one of the two young people ends up on suicide watch.

Almost Perfect falls into a hybrid category of novels which could be enjoyed equally by adults or more sophisticated teens. Yes, it's a novel about young people but, in many ways, I found it to be a more unflinchingly honest book about trans issues than "She's Not There," which is a rather "lite" version of transition. It's also a more adult and hard-edged work than either Parrotfish or Luna. Moreover, the book has an extremely complex view of young people, never falling into much of the John Hughes-inspired assumptions and cliches which plague so much of other young adult fiction and films (eg. jocks, nerds, bitchy pretty girls, etc.). Logan, Sage and all the other young characters have simultaneous multiple levels of childishness, maturity, and behavior which is both selfish, loving, gracious and sometimes, disgraceful.

How you feel about the book's portrayal of Sage may have to deal with your own experiences with trans persons (perhaps, including, yourself?). Much to Katcher's credit, Sage is never made to seem camp or draggy nor any awkward "boy" moments with her. Again, depending on your own experience, that might not seem altogether real (since many young trans girls do to go through a gay/femme boy stage) or refreshingly not filtered through the gay experience (as many recent young transitioners increasingly aren't making stops in the gay community, especially those from white, suburban, Internet-savvy backgrounds).

What I found altogether real about Sage was her degree of self-loathing about her body, a quality I've found nearly universal among trans women to varying degree, (and I'm not referring to being pre or post-op). Sage hates her height, her shoulders, her hands, her feet even though she isn't clocked by anyone at the school and is seen as attractive by most people who come in contact with her. She is described as attempting suicide as a tween (something I have personal experience with) and how that led to her family's very begrudging acknowledgment of her issues, albeit with paranoid fears about her safety and their own paranoia about being marginalized.

Perhaps the most controversial point in the book is Sage's serious consideration of detransition at one point. Some reviewers have found this to be a not thoroughly motivated part of the story, but I found it plausible. After experiencing a number of ugly realities of being a young trans girl, she is overwhelmed and experiencing a form of PTSD (something I believe many transitioners deal with on some level).

As with Julie Anne Peters' novel, Luna (also about a trans girl teen), Almost Perfect has a rather fatalistic, bound-to-go-through-hell tone to it which could be viewed as a off-putting to young people dealing with their own issues of gender dysphoria. Which could be seen either as a cold, harsh reality or, as with the many trans murders (and miserable trans characters) depicted on detective shows, a kind of exploitation and objectification of someone's struggles. In general, I felt Katcher gave a complicated enough view of Sage's life and mindset to not make it seem yet another "do this and bad things will happen" lesson. There is no exploitation of who she is into a morality lesson.

In a brief conversation I had with the author, Katcher said he had no prior experience (to his knowledge) with trans people and the novel came out of a short story he wrote and was encouraged by his writer's group to expand into novel length. In speaking of his research process, he said he contacted a number of people on trans Internet forums who were highly willing to share their life stories. It paid off, since he does an especially good job of not having sequences of "Trans 101" which pop out in the novel, a trap in which virtually all other works about trans people written by cis writers tend to fall (eg, having a character literally repeat a line-for-line explanation or definition from books like TrueSelves).

Where I think his research fell short was how none of his respondees had transitioned before the age of 30 (and Katcher was surprised when I told him I knew a number of people who had actually transitioned as teenagers). Moreover, many of the long time transitioners he corresponded with had started transition in the 1980s and early 90s, pre-Internet and during a kind of low-point in the public understanding of trans people. And as with Peters and Luna, it's notable how Katcher chose to tell the story through the narration of a cis-teen and not a trans-teen. Perhaps neither Peters or Katcher felt confident enough to truly inhabit the mindset of a trans person. While understandable, it does create a certain amount of distance from the character who truly drives the plot.

These are minor quibbles in what is, otherwise, a highly powerful book about homophobia/transphobia, complicated young love, real small-town high school culture and the time of life approaching the end of secondary education, when most kids are desperately filtering through their parent's dreams for their futures and scared as hell about growing up. And as for Logan, as with many straight-identified men who, at one time, intimately encounter a trans women, he has a hard time getting Sage out of his mind and one senses that, no matter what happens after high school, he'll spend the rest of his life searching for some version of her. As with Logan's memories, I had a hard time getting this intense, haunting book out of my mind.

The Amazon link for Almost Perfect

The Almost Perfect Website

Calling All Artists

via:

Are you an abolitionist with an artistic streak? If so, you'll want to check out The Blind Project's new "Be a Biographer" design contest, which will benefit former victims of the sex-trafficking trade in Southeast Asia in more ways than one.

The Blind Project (TBP) was founded by three Americans on a mission to raise awareness about human trafficking and help the sex tourism industry's victims in a concrete, meaningful way. Wanting to understand the reality of modern-day slavery, Anthony Dodero, Liem Nguyen, and Chad Riley had traveled to Thailand and Cambodia and saw, up close and personal, the horrors of brothel life. "There was a presence of evil - kind of indescribable," one relates. "When customers arrived at the brothel, owners and pimps would wake the children and they would come out wearing PJ's ... It becomes more tangible when you see it."

Returning stateside, the guys formed their non-profit, volunteer-run organization, based on the premise that "In order to fix a problem, people must be able to see it." TBP is affiliated with several aftercare organizations in Southeast Asia, as well as NightLight, which works to rescue and recover women from sexual exploitation. And to help fund those programs, as well as provide the women with practical employment, TBP has also partnered with Hagar International, a restoration center in Cambodia that operates a garment factory. Here, former victims of sexual slavery learn, work, and earn a fair wage creating fashionable clothing lines — including TBP's own label, Biographe.

And now, you can help decide what images will be used on Biographe's apparel. TBP wants all artists who are passionate about fighting sexual exploitation to read the three stories they have posted on their contest site and "Be a Biographer" for survivors Kyi, Em, or Jia Li. Let their words inspire the image you create and submit your designs, using a maximum of four colors, by Sept. 15, 2010.

'Australia to ban ultra-skinny models'

via:

• New code of conduct for fashion industry
• Mags to phase out cosmetic surgery ads
• Designers told not to hire skinny models

SKINNY models could be banished from catwalks and magazines under a major overhaul of the fashion industry.

Diets for rapid weight loss and cosmetic surgery advertisements will also be phased out of magazines, while clothing labels will be asked to stock a wide range of sizes under a new industry code of conduct.

Designers will be asked not to hire either models with a dangerously low body mass index (BMI) or excessively muscular men.

Youth Minister Kate Ellis will today unveil a new body-image tick of approval, similar to the Heart Foundation's healthy foods tick, to be awarded to magazines, modelling agencies and fashion labels that meet the following criteria:

- Disclose when images have been retouched and refrain from enhancing photographs in a way that changes a person's body shape, for example, lengthening their legs or trimming their waist, or removing freckles, lines and other distinguishing marks.

- Only use models aged 16 or older to model adult clothes - both on catwalks and in print.

- Refrain from using models who are very thin - or male models who are excessively muscular.

- Stocking clothing in a wide variety of sizes in shops to reflect the demand from customers.

- Using a broad range of body shapes, sizes and ethnicities in editorial and advertising.

- Not promoting rapid weight loss, cosmetic surgery, excessive exercising or any advertisements or editorial content that may promote a negative body image.

In a world first, the Federal Government is trying to tackle the issue of body image so ordinary Australians do not feel pressured to attain unrealistic cultural ideals of beauty. Ms Ellis said she was determined to stop the glamourisation of unhealthily thin women, which has been blamed for children suffering eating disorders.

"Body image is an issue that we must take seriously because it is affecting the health and happiness of substantial sections of our community," Ms Ellis said.

"The symbol is a win for consumers. It will empower consumers to tell the fashion, beauty, media and modelling industries what they want and provide greater choice."

A panel of health and academic experts will spend the next six months defining the criteria that organisations have to meet in order to be awarded the body image-friendly symbol.

The Government has also committed another $500,000 to develop new education programs with the help of eating-disorder group The Butterfly Foundation.

The school program will see 2500 educators trained to teach 100,000 students aged between eight and 18 about positive body image, covering topics such as media literacy and self-esteem.

The code has already received the endorsement of teenage magazine Girlfriend, and Ms Ellis' office is currently discussing the code with leading modelling agencies.

The Australian Women's Weekly editor in chief Helen McCabe said her magazine would begin identifying digitally altered photographs of celebrities. Ms McCabe said readers wanted published images of women to be more realistic.

"As Australia's biggest-selling magazine, I am proud to be taking a leading role in what is going to be a gradual process for the industry," Ms McCabe said.

Read more: http://www.news.com.au/entertainment/body-soul/australia-to-ban-ultra-skinny-models/story-e6frfot9-1225884746665#ixzz0sGL7Skwg