Where J.K. Rowling Looks Down, Rick Riordan Looks Ahead
How inclusion became a part of the Percy Jackson universe, and what this should mean for the Disney+ TV adaptation
(I originally blurted this rant out on my personal website here. I speak primarily to the fans already invested in the PJO TV series, but my argument about well-intentioned progressivism should still stand outside of this context).
When Percy Jackson first jumped off the page and into my head, I pictured him as white — just like me. Same with white Annabeth, white Luke, and the white human halves of satyrs and centaurs and minotaurs, and, well, you get the picture. I was raised to envision whiteness by default.
In the changing landscape since The Lightning Thief came out in 2005, Rick Riordan has made good use of his platform as a lucrative white, male author. In his series that have spawned since, diversity and inclusion steadily became integral to Riordan’s storytelling — notably setting himself apart from some of his contemporaries. Sure, he’s had some problematic missteps: many fans have pointed out how Hazel’s blackness was still framed around standards of white beauty; or that the feather in Piper’s hair was a stereotypical setback rather than positive inclusion of the character’s Native background; or that the most classically noble, heroic protagonists remained white (Percy, Jason, and Annabeth).
Nevertheless, Riordan (who I’ll fondly refer to as Rick going forward) is a template for powerful storytellers everywhere in his ability to listen and grow. He is deliberately progressive, always willing to challenge what representation looks like in his stories.
On the flip side, J.K. Rowling’s insistence on using her platform to, uh, delegitimize and actively harm trans people has made me think more about her conservatism versus Rick’s progressivism. Before the recent slew of anti-trans outrage, J.K. Rowling has long been a punchline for progressivism done wrong. Retroactively outing Dumbledore as *magically* gay the whole time was just the first of her many attempts at getting diversity points without the work of quality representation.
A conservative mindset is inherently limited — there’s a static goal, one rooted in predefined, traditional values. When it comes to her comments about trans women, perhaps J.K. Rowling’s definition of feminism was liberal at one point in her life. But as times changed, she refused to adapt. She dug her heels into a static mindset, one that conserves her preexisting beliefs — an ironic and intensely disappointing stance from someone who wrote that “it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be!”
Progressivism, however, is not simply the flipped image of conservatism. It’s not the static goalpost on the other end of the field. Being truly progressive means accepting a state of forward motion.
As Rick continued to write and expand his worlds of gods and heroes, he made the decision to create characters with different ethnic backgrounds, genders, and sexualities. Where J.K. Rowling attempted diversity as an afterthought, Rick continued forward and created a diverse set of heroes whose backgrounds were brought to the foreground. Where J.K. Rowling shifted the burden to the reader and clapped herself on the back, Rick took on the burden himself to at least attempt quality representation.
Maybe Rick puts it best himself when he writes (specifically in reference to Nico’s sexuality), “A good book, like a good classroom, should raise questions, not insist on a particular set of answers. It certainly should not ignore difficult questions”. Rick rejects the idea of an “agenda” and openly advocates for expanding what positive, relatable characters might look like. Put even more succinctly, “Every child can be a hero.”
On casting Percy as Latinx and/or BIPOC
If progressivism is about forward motion, then it’s time for the TV adaption to challenge the way characters may have been imagined when they first appeared fifteen years ago. The landscape of whose stories got told and what heroes look like is showing signs of forward motion, with a long way to go.
The best adaptations manage to honor the source material while expanding our understanding and appreciation of the worlds they bring to the screen (a topic I’ll be swimming in on future posts, don’t fret).
Disney+ has the resources to reach for responsible, well-rounded, and thoughtful representation.
Compared to the 11-year-old who first fell in love with these stories, the [redacted]-year-old currently writing spec scripts has a Latinx Percy in mind. This is not a misguided attempt at colorblindness, but an active desire to expand visibility of heroes on screen. If I’m in the wrong (Me? A white woman? Doing something clumsy and wrong?), then I want to learn and adapt.
I want to directly shut down any thought that Percy’s traits or experiences are somehow coded as Latinx in the original writing. In fact, it’s these elements — a working class mother, her abusive husband, or Percy’s academic struggles — that point to the negative implications of taking Percy’s story and suggesting that he must be Latinx. And on the flip side, it could be positive to have a white Percy that has to deal with being poor. Anecdotally, the online fandoms seem pretty divided about this issue.
Furthermore, I’m under no illusion that representation is simply a matter of taking stories that were defaulted white (and created by white people) and then casting non-white actors. There needs to be space for BIPOC stories that are written and produced by BIPOC storytellers (and as linked above, the industry has a long way to go). Hopefully the team behind the new Percy Jackson TV series is as diverse as the characters that Rick purports to champion.
Would a Latinx Percy Jackson be a landslide achievement in centering the Latinx experience? Considering most of the story is about the dynamics of Ancient Greek gods and monsters, I doubt it.
But isn’t there value in depicting a Latinx character in which their visibility is not their sole purpose? Where Percy’s ethnicity is not a departure from his character, but an expansion? Where new viewers see a hero that looks like them on screen, while older viewers get the chance to grow their imagination once again?
Moving forward, one model for the intersection of adaptation and increased visibility is the success of a different New York-based hero: Miles Morales. With Into the Spider-Verse, the protagonist’s black and Latino heritage is not slapped on top of a new Peter Parker, but gets incorporated as a key piece of their superhero identity. Take this Hollywood Reporter analysis:
“In an era where we so often search for easy, limiting labels, it’s hugely important that Miles Morales isn’t a novelty character like a number of race-bent comic characters have been over the years, but a character who is biracial and Spider-Man, not Spider-Man because he is biracial. But of course being biracial does affect the kind of Spider-Man Miles Morales is.”
It’s this reasoning — that someone’s heroism is inseparable from, but not dependent on, race — that offers a useful framework for adapting a newly imagined Percy. It’s not about color blindness, but thoughtful visibility.
Maybe there’s fear about outraged fans pushing against a depiction that goes against what’s in their heads. As Rick tweeted on July 2, when it comes to challenging the role of that original text as canon, you must ask yourself, “Can you support your thesis? Where is your evidence?” (He also added, “Yes, I was an English teacher; why do you ask?”). A quick search through the online fandoms shows that this Latinx Percy thesis is not only supported, but beloved. You can bring up how Percy’s apartment is technically in Spanish Harlem, but I think the current argument isn’t about whether Percy could have been Latinx in the book series. The thesis that’s more interesting right now is whether Percy should be Latinx going forward.
So let’s defend that thesis.
The most compelling reason against casting Percy as Latinx boils down to the risk of reinforcing negative stereotypes, e.g. growing up in a poor neighborhood, difficulty in school, an absent father etc. Additionally, we don’t want a J.K. Rowling approach on our hands, in which making Percy non-white is seen as a sloppy afterthought. As a white woman, I can’t speak to the weight of that risk and can only hope that Disney+ is listening.
In support of casting Percy as Latinx or otherwise non-white, I think that Disney+ is in a uniquely powerful position to challenge the classic image of the white boy hero (a story has been told over and over and over) without losing the big bucks. When adapting a series that has such a dedicated fan base already, why not take the supposed “risk” of casting someone who isn’t white — especially when this particular fanbase has demonstrated their support of Rick furthering diversity and inclusion in his stories. Disney+ could capitalize on the enthusiasm of the existing fanbase and broaden it even more by speaking to newer, younger fans. Good-faith progressivism aside, isn’t that the smart money-making choice? To take the widely popular source material and appeal to the times we’re in now? Is anyone over at Disney+ listening?
With Rick now a key player in the TV adaptation, it’s not too naive to hope that the casting of Percy comes with sincere intentions of what’s best for the story and viewers alike. But good intentions are never enough, as Rick fully acknowledges in his acceptance speech for the Stonewall Book Award (for the Magnus Chase series):
“Percy Jackson started as a way to empower kids, in particular my son, who had learning differences. As my platform grew, I felt obliged to use it to empower all kids who are struggling through middle school for whatever reason. I don’t always do enough. I don’t always get it right. Good intentions are wonderful things, but at the end of a manuscript, the text has to stand on its own. What I meant ceases to matter. Kids just see what I wrote. But I have to keep trying. My kids are counting on me.”
Good intentions are nice, but productive results matter. For now, I hope the TV adaptation lives up to the values that Rick has learned to champion since Percy Jackson first told us that, look, he didn’t want to be a half-blood.
