Feminism and YA fantasy literature: friends or foes?
How many mainstream, young adult fantasy series can you think of with a strong, three-dimensional female lead or main characters you could call true role models? When you compare this number with that of damsels in distress or love interests and male counterparts leading series, it puts feminism within fantasy literature in sharp relief. This has been a struggle for decades and, despite modern attitudes towards equality, it is still not as prominent as it should be. The genre is notorious for its freedom of expression and experimentation, but it is littered with stories of young boys coming of age while on heroes’ quests. This restriction is only emphasised by those that filter into popular culture having a running theme every few years, whether it’s schools for witches or love triangles involving werewolves and vampires. However, there are thankfully those amongst the masses that have used the genre’s expansive potential to the utmost and challenged its boundaries. Three series in particular over the past three decades have inspired me with their examples of fantasy feminism, with complex female characters mirroring developing, modern perspectives and culture. I believe this helps make each of them an essential, influential series for a generation.
Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials, published between 1995 and 2000, challenged female archetypes in fantasy from the fore. Though set initially in an alternate world featuring wonderful things ours doesn’t, it falls behind us in feminist movements. Most women are oppressed as men rule, and even female scholars are belittled. However, contrasting with this are several independent female characters — primarily protagonist Lyra — who is a forthright and persuasive young girl. She begins the leading of her story with a rescue mission and displays the power women can have through resisting oppression and making their own decisions. I think it is this use of talent and freedom that makes her such a feminist role model; she uses these aspects to gain great allies, cunningly trick her foes and question authority. This is especially poignant in a world lacking gender equality, as it is an example of how to fight within it by doing what you think is right.
The trilogy features the classic, central theme in young adult fantasy of the protagonist coming of age. Pullman twists this trope to mirror the Bible’s ‘Fall of Man’, with Lyra prophesied as the ‘new Eve’ and the story leading to her temptation of sexual awakening. This could place her in an objectified role and a means to an end, but I believe this is avoided and used in a feminist manner. This is because Lyra creates her own plan to rescue several worlds and decide her destiny; it is explicitly mentioned that she must not know of her prophecy, so as not to affect her free will. Subverting the Bible’s Eve, a ‘subordinate other who is tied to her natural passions’, into someone who strives for freedom and helps to destroy the series’ God is a powerful rebuttal of expectation and a risky, criticised move by Pullman. Such elements reflect third wave feminist movements of the 1990s which celebrated female leadership, inner power and the rise of unapologetic female music stars and fantasy leads in popular culture. Lyra is above all things true to her ruthless self, never subordinate and uses her inner power — if not aware of its divine purpose — to help others without caring about negative opinions. She, Buffy and Missy Elliott would likely get along!
J. K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series has been criticised similarly to His Dark Materials, though under concern of promoting occultism rather than atheism. Despite it lacking a central female protagonist like Lyra, Rowling creates a cast of varied, independent women using their powers for both good and evil, including several leading ladies. I think this diversity is a stronger argument for a feminist fantasy series; although Pullman created the shrewd Marisa Coulter and gifted Mary Malone alongside Lyra, few other female characters could be said to feature in principal roles. Coulter’s use of her beauty and sexuality as the source of her power has also been considered unoriginal, though I believe her development into a self-sacrificing mother figure is the key to her character’s strength.
One of the most prominent examples of Harry Potter’s inspiring female characters is Hermione Granger. Headstrong, bookish and logical, Hermione displays what could be thought of as formerly, stereotypically masculine qualities in fantasy and combines them with compassion and loyalty. She is an essential part of the main trio and her ability to use resourcefulness to solve problems — often a role taken by male characters in the genre — frequently saves the day. Hermione shows that intelligence is powerful and valuable for women as well as men, and combining it with emotion and kindness can result in more power still. Strength amongst women is presented in further ways, such as Luna Lovegood’s resilience against bullies and Lily Potter’s loving sacrifice saving Harry from Voldemort. This variety is a statement by Rowling that what a woman of any position can offer the world is valued, from stay-at-home mothers to social activists. This is also shown in antagonists like Narcissa Malfoy, who develops into a daring character as she lies to Voldemort in the hope of saving her son from war.
I think Rowling’s use of female character development is one of the series’ most important aspects, as it demonstrates women’s potential. Another great example is Ginny Weasley, who grows up from a preteen with an obsessive crush on Harry. She not only becomes an accomplished sportsperson but someone who decides to move on and pursue other relationships, then proves herself a force to be reckoned with when she fights alongside Harry in Dumbledore’s Army and several battles. Ginny is a favourite character of mine, largely for this development; she is an extremely relatable, wide-eyed preteen, but retains her femininity and uses her passion to help her grow as a woman and witch. She is much more than a love interest and represents an important statement by Rowling for female stereotypes.
The developing complexities of these characters, with many not being what they seem, encourage an acceptance and tolerance in readers — especially for female characters and, therefore, women. Harry Potter has been considered to positively affect readers’ perceptions and empathy — I can vouch for its effect on mine — with one study proving it reduces prejudice against stigmatised groups like the series’ Muggle-borns. This and Rowling’s inclusivity of characters results in what I believe is a more complex and mature approach to fantasy feminism than His Dark Materials. They engage with the culture of their time by reflecting feminism’s move to focus on celebrating differences, like ethnicity and class, throughout the series’ publication from 1997 into the 21st century and the fourth wave of modern times.
The first instalment of Cassandra Clare’s The Mortal Instruments was published in 2007, the same year as the final Harry Potter novel. Released amidst dark romance and urban fantasy series riding the wave of The Twilight Saga’s popularity, it follows a race of warriors called Shadowhunters who destroy demons to protect humanity. Naturally, this concept of a race constantly at war promotes equal physical footing across genders and opposes the trope of only male characters demonstrating strength in battle. Its central character, Clary Fray, was created in mind of the author wanting to place an ‘epic hero narrative about a girl’ amongst the masses of those with male counterparts. Clary is a feisty, stubborn teenager who often makes rash decisions and sacrifices for those she loves but also uses a latent, angelic power combined with artistic talent to make her mark on the world. I think Clare avoids dumbing Clary down in her journey of self-discovery — unlike many female-led, young adult fantasy series of the period — and uses the new experiences and abilities as a way for her to show strength in adversity and blossom into a brilliant heroine.
Other compelling female characters include Isabelle Lightwood, a fierce Shadowhunter with fighting skills as strong as her confidence in her body and sexuality. She is independent and knows how to get what she wants and, like Clary, this makes her a figure of female empowerment. Clare has been vocal on social media about using her writing to promote representation of feminist fantasy characters, especially concerning them embracing their sexuality; it is often irrationally frowned upon compared to that of male characters being celebrated. She extends this to those of varying race, gender and sexual orientation — not often seen in fantasy fiction, let alone the young adult sphere — and continues it throughout her other series set in this world with diverse female leads. Her involvement with fans and use of social media to further her writing cause echoes our modern, technologically-fuelled fourth wave of feminism and one of its recent principles: ‘“I thought women were equal, I’m going to do something about it.”’ I believe this all makes The Mortal Instruments feature the most active feminism of the three series, and it is an essential example to authors who we can only hope will follow in Clare’s footsteps.
These young adult fantasy series each show their genre is integrally about challenging and experimenting with new worlds while remembering to reflect the struggles and truths of our own. In a culture increasingly twisting feminism into a negative term describing online trolls and oversensitive criticism — rather than a battle for equal gender rights — we must learn from and share such literature showing prejudiced worlds and how modern characters fight them with female strength and empowerment.
Edited by Maryam Elahi
