The ensuing argument dwelt chiefly on distinguishing mass murdering villains from super-powered thieves; basically the contention was that not all super villains are really evil, and those that are, don't get much affection except in the love-to-hate category. The argument could also have gone a number of other directions. It could have been pointed out that comic books and television shows alike have many, many instances of villains becoming heroes (or at least trying to be), so the desire to write about redemption is clearly not a proclivity exclusive to women or to fans. It could also have been pointed out that people have romanticized villains for a very, very long time, to the point that people imagine Wagnerian tropes and Errol Flynn more readily than they can call forth actual historical knowledge about vikings and pirates.
Redeeming something and romanticizing it aren't exactly the same thing, of course, but they do tend to go hand-in-hand. Redemption entails furthering the character's story as is, while romanticizing entails retelling or revising it (a frequent indulgence of fan fiction); revisions in the form of retcons or plot-twists may be used to soften the the villain so that his/her atonement will seem more believable or reasonable.
The basic question though, was:
"Why do fangirls insist on romanticizing villains?"Long ago, I thought it had to do with a culturally instilled idea that the 'fixer upper' was desirable. There's this antiquated idea that if a woman wants a man who'll make her happy, she needs to find a really messed up one, and give him a massive makeover. (This also applies to houses.) That doesn't really map to the spirit of the thing, though. I'm sure there are people who have Mary Sue fantasies about taking some sexy villain and rebuilding him into a heroic love interest. It's basically a power-and-control fantasy akin to Taming of the Shrew, and I have no doubt there are women who enjoy that, but I seriously doubt that typifies the phenomenon in question.
And I should note, I don't know if the implicit assumption is accurate - without an in depth qualitative analysis of fan-generated content and its consumers, it's impossible to say whether 'fangirls' romanticize villains any more than 'fanboys' do. Anecdotally, the "Starscream fangirl" has been a generally accepted archetype within the Transformers fandom for so long that there is an actual Transformers character based on the cliche. So, to me it feels true, but the nature of stereotypes is that they "feel true."
Still, it was an interesting question to ponder, so for the sake of argument, let's assume for the moment that there really are a disproportionate number of female fans (versus male fans) who are more engaged by stories which make a villain the protagonist than by the default, mainstream, the-hero-is-the-hero story. Let's assume that characters like Draco Malfoy, Captain Cold, and Loki really do appeal more to women than to men, and that women are particularly fascinated by reading and generating stories which show that, 'they really aren't that bad.'
Mythological Roots
Much of western story-telling has its roots in classical mythology. The tall tales and folklore of ancient Greece and Rome established many of the archetypal hero/villain dichotomies that we take for granted now. Essentially, all modern western fiction exists within a cultural context built on classical mythology. An important quality of classical mythology is that it is extremely sexist in the sense that it does treat male and female characters very differently.
By my general perception, women in mythology are usually limited to three roles:
1. Aiding a Male Hero
Male heroes often owe their success to the intervention of a sympathetic female character, but that character is still unquestionably a supporting character rather than the main protagonist. By default, these women tend to be bland and two-dimensional, even compared to the simplistic male heroes they are presented next to. The story does not start with them, and often doesn't end with them. They are inspired to act heroically not for the sake of their own motivations, but for the male hero's needs. They are, as characters, "lame."
Furthermore, these women often suffer tragically for their part in the male hero's story. Ariadne and Medea's roles necessitate betraying their families, which in itself is rather tragic, yet it is downplayed, minimized, or dismissed; the moral conflict that their actions should entail is generally disregarded, as if to say 'well of course she betrayed them, she's a woman'. Furthermore, both were ultimately spurned by the men they sacrificed everything to help, driving home the idea that they are nothing more than Bond-girl plot-devices.
Notably, their endings are so tragic that Medea ends up being driven totally bat-crap crazy, murdering multiple people and flying off in a chariot drawn by dragons.
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| One assumes Medea also stopped to invent the microphone, just so she could drop it on her way out. |
2. Hindering a Male Hero
While Medea's murder spree and mustache-twirling dragon exit are a rather extreme example, women are often antagonists in classical mythology. It should be noted, though, that there is a pretty low bar here: 'female antagonist' encompasses almost any female character which does not immediately give the male hero what he wants. Hippolyta, for example, was clearly not a villain, but for the purposes of Heracles' story, she was the source of conflict, an obstacle to him achieving his 'heroic' mission to steal her clothing (and in some versions, ends up dead despite giving it to him as a gift).
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| Knupfer's classic, The Panty Raid of Hercules. |
And that brings up another point - classical heroes don't necessarily have the noble aspirations of their modern counterparts. Sometimes they act compassionately (e.g., Theseus volunteering to face the Minotaur), but their quests are usually built around seeking some reward, whether it's glory, treasure, a beautiful woman, or a favored spot in the afterlife. Even the punitive Labors of Heracles are more about clearing his record than about a moral journey towards redemption or resolving his grief over the family he killed. The respectability of the male hero's agenda in mythology is often dubious by modern standards, and is sometimes overtly selfish, yet the male characters are considered 'heroic' because they fight for what they want and persist in the face of adversity.
However, there's a distinct double standard here. The motivations and qualities associated with male heroism in storytelling often lead to villainy for female characters. A vengeful lover murders her children, an ambitious queen commits treason, etc. Motivations which would drive a male character towards greatness do the opposite for women in these stories, and as a result, a woman who pursues her own drives, wants, or needs, is almost inevitably made into the villain by the story-teller - and this applies to fiction and non-fiction stories alike.
However, up to the 20th century, female villains were by far more interesting than their 'good girl' counterparts. Nimue, Morgan le Fay, Lady MacBeth, Milady de Winter, are all more intriguing and exciting than their contemporary female non-villains. They aren't interesting because they're villains, they are interesting because they have their own motivations. As a result, if you want to find a cool female hero dated from before the 1900s, you almost have to adapt her from a villain. And it works well; the villains have compelling and relatable origin stories which provide excellent raw materials for reinterpretation as misunderstood heroes. That being the case, it shouldn't be too surprising if women are used to reinventing villains as protagonists.
3. Being a Victim
Besides antagonists and supporting characters, mythology and folklore obviously abound with damsels-in-distress. Most of them exist to be rescued and married (usually in that order) by the male hero. That's not always the case, though. I would argue that the closest thing to a modern heroine in classical mythology is the self-rescuing victim of sexual assault. Preserving her own 'virtue' is generally the only personal motivation a woman can have in classical mythology that makes her the hero of the story, and it's less often about defending her right to bodily autonomy and freedom from coercion, and more often about protecting her sacred virginity.
But the respect female characters are given in this regard is pretty inconsistent. The sexual predator is still often the main character of the story; for example, Pan pursues and ultimately murders the nymph Syrinx in one of his stories. Sometimes the offender is depicted as the protagonist of the story; Zeus is the hero in Io's story only in the sense that being transformed into a heifer and raped is relatively preferable to being murdered (and that's debatable depending on how one feels about cows). On the occasion that the woman overcomes the man, either by her own cunning or by invoking the favor of the gods through her piety, there can be dire consequences, as if the storyteller is suggesting she should have just 'let it happen'. Athena escapes assault by Hephaestus, but a dangerous monster is created as a result of her resistance, and when Poseidon rapes one of Athena's priestesses, the goddess ensures it will never happen to the woman again by transforming said priestess into one of the most well known antagonists of all time.
The First Super Villain
Athena's priestess, Medusa becomes a horrific monster with fantastic powers which protect her from any man who would attack her. She is eventually beheaded by Perseus, who heroically avenges the scores of men who she killed... in self-defense. It's glazed over in the myth, but Medusa hadn't razed villages or kidnapped some innocent maiden, she was simply a recluse, attempting to hide herself from a violent world, but she gains infamy for killing the scores of men who attacked her. It's no surprise that Medusa eventually became a cult hero among feminists.
And it's perhaps Medusa in whom the connection to modern fiction should be most readily evident. Her snake-haired, petrifying visage has imperiled countless modern heroes (and heroines) who've overcome her either by decapitating her or turning her deadly gaze back upon her.
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| Awesome artwork by Drew Johnson and Sean Phillips, but a depressing scenario in the context of this blog post. |
Unlike her comic book counterparts, however, Medusa doesn't endure some karmic punishment for developing a deadly gamma bomb or experimenting on her own DNA. She's punished - not only in the context of the story, but in her remembrance by storytellers - for being a woman. She's not even a bold woman who challenges societal norms or cultural traditions; she plays by the rules of the culture she's immersed in, and still ends up being made into the bad guy.
That more-or-less embodies the treatment of women throughout western history - damned if you do, damned if you don't - women have been treated like crap, and when they have stepped up to do something about it, they have been treated worse. Suffragettes were obviously not treated well in their time, and those who didn't fully abandon their cause during World War I are still remembered as "radicals", branded as extremists because they believed their basic rights as citizens didn't magically become irrelevant when they were called upon to support the male heroes of the story. And if that doesn't strike a familiar cord, read any given internet conversation about women's reproductive rights in 2017 - women advocating for their own bodily autonomy are 'whores', 'murderers', or even perpetrators of 'genocide' as far as the probirth camp is concerned.
Implications for Fandom
If 'fangirls' really do have an inclination to retell the stories of modern villains to make them over into protagonists, anti-heroes, or even outright heroes, then I would suggest this as the reason:
In a long history of retelling stories, imagining different perspectives to voice different experiences and points of view, the 'redeemed villain' fan-fiction expresses the feelings and historical perspective associated with the creators' identity.In classical mythology, the male heroes don't buck the system. Zeus is by most accounts an asshole, but the other gods, goddesses, demigods, and mortal heroes, practically fall all over themselves serving him, and when they don't, they're consistently the 'bad guys' in the story. In the world of comic book super-villains, though, things are very different. In the dichotomy between the domineering father and the obedient-turned-rebellious son, the son is often the hero who stands up to 'the man.' Even though it's often a male character, the moral journey is allegorical for the feminist struggle against patriarchy.
When Quicksilver stands up to Magneto he's doing something very difficult at a personal level, and although it likely speaks to male readers, I think it may carry more symbolic weight with women.
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| When Quicksilver gets cut off at the knees for his defiance in Ultimate X-Men, many women can probably metaphorically sympathize with that as well. |
When Draco Malfoy's villainy is revealed to be the product of childhood abuse and indoctrination by his father, he likewise proxies for the woman whose upbringing has pressured her to betray her own morals or beliefs in obedience to the system. A fan fiction author whose story focuses on Draco breaking from that programming and becoming the hero of the story may represent a desire for women to not only do the same, but to have their heroism brought out into the light and acknowledged.
And acknowledgement matters. In classical mythology, the heroes are recognized and praised for their abilities. They're encouraged to succeed, praised for their achievements, and admired for their victories; a Greek hero can receive accolades for cleaning a stable. In the context of a culture which has generally tended to dismiss women's abilities and permitted men to steal credit for their work, I doubt that women have ever found it easy to relate to superstars like Hercules. In the world of comic books, however, we have many heroic characters who act anonymously. These individuals are often actively persecuted by the government or the news media, and some even deliberately accept the mantle of villainy in order to help people. At the extreme, the character's intentions are sometimes uncertain even to the reader, only revealed at the end of the story.
Marvel's interpretation of Loki might be the ultimate embodiment of that idea. When Loki ran in the 2016 U.S. presidential election (no, really, I'm not making this up), it's ultimately revealed that his antics served primarily to make amends for harm he'd accidentally visited upon a woman decades earlier. Loki invests extraordinary time and effort in this particular mischief, and ultimately humiliates himself in front of the world, to help one woman (it also places "Don" in his debt when he concedes early, but I don't think he can be blamed for using the opportunity for a little extortion). Playing his game at an even higher level than a 'mere' presidential election, in the Earth X series he effectively saves the world, but until his efforts pay-off, his actions appear nefarious.
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| To be fair, I think his apparent trustworthiness was undermined by his choice to abandon his nose. |
So when a 'fangirl' outlines a childhood in Asgard where the gender-fluid god was consistently eclipsed by his hyper-masculine brother, and then explains how Loki's actions, while appearing outwardly sinister, were really heroic all along, I don't think it's too much of a stretch to speculate that their story doesn't express 'Ooh, Tom Hiddleston is dreamy,' so much as it expresses the desire to have one's apparent 'villainy' finally recognized as misunderstood heroism.
Unlike classic heroes in the vein of Perseus, Theseus, and Jason, the modern antihero reflects women's experiences as well as men's (if not better) and the desire to revise a charismatic or fun villain into a sympathetic protagonist likely reflects that resonance. If 'fangirls' do indeed tend toward "romanticizing" the bad boys, it's likely not because of some lust for a dangerous liaison, but because they've been inspired by their own experiences as 'villains' within a society that glorifies male power and achievement.
That said, I'll leave you with this relatively recent moment in Marvel comics, and remind you that, yes, Squirrel Girl is canon:
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| Loki: Asgardian God of Cat Memes |
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James N. McDonald is a "liberal academic" born and raised in Missouri and residing in Tennessee. He holds one degree in history, two degrees in psychology, but loves writing fiction. His first, completed novel, The Rise of Azraea, Book I, is a high fantasy story with elements of comic fantasy and satire targeting present day, real world issues such as economic inequity, and sexual and racial discrimination. It is currently available on Amazon.
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Post Script
Many people who read this are probably wondering at the idea of male characters representing emotional outlets for oppressed women. It seems depressing to think that our society is so lacking in female heroes that even feminist ideals have to be expressed with male characters. However, there are a LOT of female heroes, so if female fans do prefer writing and reading about male characters over female characters, then it seems likely that there's something absent from the female heroes, such that they miss some beat that characters like Loki hit.
Women fighting patriarchy in a very literal, punch-it-til-it-breaks sort of way have been a part of comics since Wonder Woman started beating up fascists in December of 1941. It may be that the direct approach of a demigoddess tossing tanks through the air doesn't really capture the emotional experience associated with being a woman. Since Wonder Woman can, and has, beaten the snot out of Superman, she hasn't exactly been marginalized or underestimated in the Justice League. Perhaps that lack of conflict invites less adoption, adaptation, and reinterpretation.
On the other hand, heroic women who started out rebelling from their roles as villainous servants of patriarchal forces have been a common theme in cartoons, comics, TV shows, movies, etc. for a long time - Scarlet Witch, Black Widow, She-Ra, Talia Al Ghul, Black Arachnia, Harley Quinn, Angelina Jolie's Maleficent, Regina Mills, and even Smurfette all spring to mind immediately. Maybe it's such a ubiquitous cliche that the transition sometimes seems trite? In the Marvel Cinematic Universe, Black Widow is shown to be as adept at deception and manipulation as Loki, but she's so readily accepted as a hero that almost no one on screen or even in the theater seems to question her motives.
On the other hand, Harley Quinn obviously struggles with towing the hero line, with doubt perpetually sewn as to which way she'll fall at any given moment. Harley also bucks a major trope of the reformed bad-girl; ordinarily the villainess who turns good does so because she falls in love with a male hero. Harley, quite unusually, has to overcome her love for a man in order to become good - a far more compelling and interesting development for the character. Perhaps Harley's success is directly attributable to her moral conflict being relatively rare in female characters.
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