I think the women of M14 could have shown a little more
skin.
Is that weird? The women look absolutely phenomenal.
Banisher Priest is both eminently feminine and completely battle-ready.
Chandra, Pyromaster has neither the backbreaking pose of Chandra, the Firebrand nor the
basketball breasts that dominated the advertising. I hadn’t kept up with the
M14 spoilers for school, so I was hit with the complete set at once via
DailyMTG’s visual spoiler.
As I first started looking through the cards, I thought it
was a fluke. Some artists (I’m looking at you, Michael C. Hayes) consistently draw
women in character-appropriate attire and poses. I figured
somehow all of these had gotten clumped at the top.
But as I scrolled through row after row, without a single
battle bikini or cheesecake pose to be seen except on reprints, I seriously
began to tear up a little. It was sinking in that they had actually listened to
us—to me and my friends and all the countless others who speak up again and
again, who ask for the characters representing us to be portrayed as
meaningfully as the characters representing the male players.
(I would also like to acknowledge the many non-women who make this same
request.) They had made an entire set of women who actually looked like women
going about their business, not like props.
The Sexy
Spectrum
At the same time, something felt a little odd. While each
individual card in M14 looked fantastic, there was something about the set as a
whole. It was a world without sensuality, a very conservative world. Which can
be interesting as a characteristic of a world. Innistrad, for example, is
canonically very cold (although a couple of the characters’ inexplicable
costume designs give new meaning to the phrase “freezing your tits off.” Just imagine the wind!)
My worry on seeing M14 was that our request had been misunderstood. That people might think we hated sexiness or wanted to slut-shame women who showed skin. Thankfully, that fear has been allayed by the character
design in Theros, where men and women alike wear minimal clothing.
This tells
a story—I assume that Theros is very hot (poor Elspeth!) and they use agility
and magic instead of steel to protect their vital organs. My friends and I have
debated my choice to buy this
print—my argument is that since we know Michael C. Hayes can and regularly does
paint women in battle gear and battle poses, his decision to sex this one up tells
us more about the character than about the artist.
Which brings me to my original statement—women come in all
varieties. Some have no desire to be sexually appealing, and make an effort not
to be. Some are incidentally sexy whether they’re dressed conservatively or
revealingly. And some make a concerted effort. It is really nice to see Magic art embracing a broader spectrum.
I always use Wakedancer as my go-to for provocative
clothing done right—her magic is from dance, a potentially very sensual
medium, and it would make complete sense for her to choose a suitably sensual outfit.
What I like to see on a female character isn’t the specifics
of her clothing at all—it’s about agency. My friend calls this The Natasha
Principle: Does this woman look like she
picked out her own outfit, choosing something appropriate for what she planned
to do that day?
Strong vs. Strongly
Written
So why didn’t I say anything about my concerns when M14 came out? I pretty much just called it a home run and left it at that. The reason: I didn’t want people to feel like they can’t win, like we’ll never be satisfied. The set was a huge and beautifully executed step in the right direction, and I wanted to take some time just to appreciate that.
But I was recently inspired to think about the complexities of the issue by this
blog post that I found on reddit.com/r/girlgamers. The author talks about
the difference between strong female characters and good female characters. In
her words, “A female character does not have to be 'strong' (whatever your
definition of that is) to be a good character. Women can be strong, or wussy,
or emotional, or stoic, or needy, or independent, and still be legitimate
people and interesting characters.”
But certain tropes, such as the damsel in distress, have
become contaminated by too many stories where that’s all there is to the woman.
As a result, characters get derided for coming too close to the cliché. Elspeth,
who is a survivor
of severe and chronic developmental trauma and has moments of great fragility,
seems to be a very polarizing character. (I don't read the books but from the little I've seen I am a big fan.) Easier just to say “No damsels in
distress” than to make sure your character is more than that—and that people
get it.
There are so many complaints and many of them seem
contradictory. If a lawyer character wants a husband then she’s a cliché of
women always needing a man. If she doesn’t, she’s a cliché of professional
women being frigid. Even if the character is beautifully executed, the media’s portrayal
of gender roles is so warped that every detail is fraught with deeper meaning
that can then be picked apart.
Creators who I talk to about this usually want to do right,
and I really feel for their frustration. I want to promise them “Follow this list
of rules, and everything will be okay. You can feel confident about your
characters and nobody will ever attack you.” I mean, I want to be able to tell them
that. I want such a list to exist.
But in the end, I suppose, everybody has be able to trust their own judgment as creators. It comes down to being able to say, “I thought about
this thoroughly, I listened to people’s concerns, I searched my own conscience,
and this is what I came up with.” If you’ve given it your best, it’s not my
place or anyone else’s to tell you otherwise. We can raise our objections, of
course. And we will. We all have our concerns. But it’s up to you to decide whether you're going to change
your path accordingly.
Keep listening. Keep learning. Keep trying. I couldn’t ask
for more.