Damsel is a Word not a Trope

I have noticed lately a trend in which the word "damsel" is used as short-hand to mean "damsel in distress."

As in:
"I need you to scream for me."
"Like a damsel?"

Or:
"I imagined a story where I didn't have to be the damsel."

This chaps my hide.

"Damsel" is not an intrinsically pejorative word. It simply means "young, unmarried woman." The word itself has no relation to powerlessness.

In fact, according to the New Oxford American Dictionary, the word damsel comes to us (by way of French) from the Latin domina which means mistress, as in a female master.

So the entire foundation of the word damsel is rooted in power.

It just happened to share the same first letter as the word distress, and thus someone, who confused alliteration with wit, coined "damsel in distress."

To conflate the "damsel in distress" trope with the actual word "damsel" is NOT A GOOD THING. 

Because -- remember, damsel by itself just means woman -- what you're actually saying is:

"I need you to scream for me."
"Like a woman?"

Or:

"I imagined a story where I didn't have to be the woman."

When the word those screenwriters were really looking for is VICTIM.

"I imagined a story where I didn't have to be the victim." 

That is what Dolores should have said in the most recent episode of WestWorld. The show has rubbed our faces, across multiple episodes, in the victimization of Dolores, beating us over the head with how she is intended to be raped and murdered. That's her storyline, because that's all the men who visit WestWorld want -- to rape and murder an innocent farmer's daughter.

But her being a woman isn't the thing that needs fixing. She can be a woman -- a damsel -- who fights back. She can be a damsel hero. A Big Damn Damsel Hero.

What she wants fixed is her role of victim falling foul of evil, murderous men.

And the word WOMAN is NOT a synonym for VICTIM.

I don't care that what you really meant to refer to was the trope. What you're SAYING and what people are HEARING -- whether consciously aware of it or not -- is that women are victims. They have no other role. They can't be heroes. Women are by default "in distress"-- so much so that you don't even have to add the "in distress" part, you just say woman and the audience will fill it in on their own.

Oh, and only women can scream, apparently. That's adult women for ya, sniveling, crying, screaming. Men never do that.

I've only seen the trailer for that Tarzan movie, not the movie itself, but apparently the scream/damsel exchange was considered important because it's in said trailer. WHY?? Why does that merit a spot in the trailer? That's how our heroine is defined, is it? Ooh she's better than Ordinary Women, she's not a damsel!

Of all the comebacks she could have snarled, and this being a period piece, she could have spouted some very worthy phrases of disdain (I SAID GOOD DAY, SIR), all she does is throw shade on damsels? 

You can do better, screenwriters.

If for no other reason than the fact that "I imagined a story where I didn't have to be the damsel" is an ehh line given strength by the situation, but "I imagined a story where I didn't have to be the victim" is MOVING, with call-backs to all the scenes of victimization we've witnessed before, where Dolores, Special Victim Extraordinaire, takes back her power and violates her programming to defend herself.

Eschewing stereotypes and trope trigger words in favor of being ACCURATE is just BETTER WRITING.

Try it.

Chatting with Lovecraft about Sex

SCENE: Young, exuberant REPORTER sits opposite quiet, horror-writing legend H.P. LOVECRAFT in a small New England sitting room filled with spindly antique furniture which has seen much use. 

Reporter: You can't believe how excited I am to be here. There are so many questions, so many questions, that fans and academics have been yearning to ask you. We all want insight into the worlds you created, the fantastic characters and places, the things named and unnamed. So let's start, shall we?

H.P.: Please do.

Reporter: Right then. How is your sex life?

H.P.: I beg your pardon?

Reporter: Describe your sex life for us. Are you homosexual? Are you asexual? Is that why sex is absent from your stories?

H.P.: (*long pause*) When I write weird fiction, I give you weird. When I write horror, I hope to horrify you. I don't write romance. If I wrote romance, I would include romance. Do you ask Edgar Allan Poe why he doesn't write more about lollipops and sunshine?

Reporter: But you created an entire mythology, and a dream-cycle, and no one has any sex in either of them.

H.P.: My characters are generally fighting for their lives or their sanity. Just when, exactly, do you propose they stop and have sex?

Reporter: Right. Of course. So how long would you say it takes you to achieve orgasm?

H.P.: What did you just ask me?

Reporter: These are actual questions people have discussed. Articles have been written. People want to know!

H.P. (*shifts in his chair uncomfortably*): I am a very private person from an era when a gentleman did not discuss such things and a place where being Puritanically uptight and uncommunicative was a sign of eminent respectability. What on earth or in the Outer Darkness makes you think I would ever discuss a topic as intimate as sex with utter strangers? I don't even discuss it with my friends.

Reporter: Aha! So you're squeamish? You don't like sex?

H.P.: (*now really irritated*) Squeamish? Seriously? Have you read my writing? (*sighs*) If you absolutely must know, I take my husbandly duties very seriously. I researched the topic thoroughly before marriage.

Reporter: Researched.... Does that mean you were a virgin? You were, weren't you! You must have a low sex drive.

H.P.: No, I have a modicum of self-control. I live in an age without reliable birth control, when unwed pregnancy is considered an unredeemable social sin. What sort of gentleman endangers the health and reputation of the woman he loves? Besides....

H.P. STANDS, CROSSES TO MIRROR ABOVE LARGE HEARTH

H.P.: You may have noticed, I am not particularly pleasing to the eye. My own mother said I was "grotesque" and advised me to go outside only after dark, so as not to frighten the neighbors. Advice I continue to follow to this day.

H.P. TURNS, SHUDDERS A BIT AS IF TO THROW OFF OLD MEMORIES, AND RETURNS TO HIS CHAIR.

H.P.: Thus it will be of no surprise to you that I was not overburdened with offers from the opposite sex. Sonia was the first woman who ever kissed me, apart from family. Had she not been determined to prove to me I was lovable, I doubt I ever would have known the congeniality of... of the.... (*hesitates, clearly searching for the perfect words*)

Reporter (*steam-rollers over HP's thoughts*): And is your wife satisfied with your performance? In bed? Your sexual performance? I hear she had more experience than you. I don't mean to say she's a slut or anything.

H.P.: (*very formal, with icy anger*) You are my guest so I shan't punch you. But you will leave this house at once.

REPORTER, SUDDENLY COWED AS HE REMEMBERS JUST EXACTLY HOW MANY PEOPLE DIE GRUESOMELY IN THIS AUTHOR'S STORIES, STANDS.

ENTER SONIA, Lovecraft's wife.

Sonia (*smiling*): Wait, don't go. You want to hear about our sex life first-hand, don't you?

Reporter (*looks at HP nervously, stutters*): I...I....ummm....I....

Sonia: My husband is a very sophisticated and conscientious lover who knows how to please a woman. I have to initiate our encounters, yes, but that's because he was brought up to believe no woman would have him and he doesn't wish to impose himself on me.

Reporter: (*backing toward the door*): So he pleases you. That's good.

Sonia (*her righteous anger slipping past her polite smile*): I didn't just say he pleases me, I said he knows how to please a woman. HE HAS TECHNIQUE.

ENTER FANGIRLS, peering in the windows from outside.

Fangirls: Did she say technique? Do you realize how rare technique is, even today?! Get out of the way, Lame Ass Reporter! Lemme see this guy!

Sonia (*approaching Reporter, who is fumbling for the doorknob*): (*accusingly*) You just want there to be sex in his stories so you can read about women who enjoy their sexuality being ripped apart by eldritch horrors.

Reporter: What? No!

Sonia: He doesn't slut-shame, he doesn't denigrate women as a gender, and sex isn't a part of my husband's stories because sex isn't a punishable crime in his universe. So there must be something wrong with him? It that it?

Reporter (*stumbling out the door*): No! It's not like that. Not all men....

Fangirls: (*pouncing on Reporter*) NOT ALL MEN. He said it! He said the thing!

H.P. (*sotto voce to Sonia, who has returned to his side, indicates Fangirls*): Why are they doing that?

Sonia (*strokes HP's hair affectionately*): Ignore them. That's an entirely different discussion.

The Unexpected Evil of Obesity

If you follow me on Twitter, you might have noticed it took FOUR MONTHS for my sick cat to be correctly diagnosed.

Four. Horrible. Months.

When I first noticed something amiss, I took my cat to the vet and told them he was losing weight very quickly. They weighed him and confirmed he'd basically dropped almost a pound a week from his last visit.

They said as he had been overweight it was good he was losing so much.

I pointed out that this was a dramatic reduction and I hadn't changed anything with regard to his food and exercise.

They said not to worry. Losing weight is a Good Thing.

And set us home.

And, to my shame, I bought into that because, as a fat person myself, I'm constantly being told I should lose weight. Losing weight when you're fat is Always Good. It's the only thing for which society will consistently congratulate a fat person.

Meanwhile, my cat kept losing weight. His hip bones became prominent. So did his spine. (Turns out he was losing muscle mass at this point.)

I took him back to the vet and told them I knew this was Not Right. Have you seen Monty Python's Dead Parrot sketch? Looking back on it, this visit sounds similar.

Me:  This is not a healthy cat.

Them:  Sure it is. Lovely cat, the Norwegian Blue. Beautiful plumage.

Me:  NO. THIS IS NOT A HEALTHY CAT.

So they took an x-ray. And referred me to an animal heart specialist.

We went to the animal heart specialist and she took another x-ray. She diagnosed my cat with very mild heart disease.

The end.

My original vet was done. No follow up appointments needed.

Nothing.

And yet, even I knew very mild heart disease did not answer the question of why my cat was losing weight. Why he was now vomiting and having diarrhea and ate very little.

I contacted my old vet (3,000 miles away or I'd have gone to her first). She asked if they'd checked the condition of his stomach. (Answer: No.)  She asked if my cat had been given an ultrasound. (Again: No. Such an option had never even been mentioned.)

In that moment, I realized my current vet sucked.

So I found a new vet. And just for good measure, when we got in, I demanded an ultrasound. Luckily, he was thinking ultrasound anyway.

He diagnosed my cat as having a thyroid problem.

And arthritis.

And he thought he saw something during the ultrasound, so we were referred again, to an Animal Internist.

This time, the specialist doctor ran an endoscopy and discovered a mass in my cat's stomach. He took a biopsy and we were informed that my cat had large cell gastric lymphoma. And we were referred to the animal cancer center.

Finally.

After. Four. Months.

I have to wonder what the situation for my cat might have been had he been diagnosed with cancer in AUGUST as opposed to DECEMBER.

I also have to wonder if part of the original vet's incompetence had to do with the popular demonization of fat.

He'd been fat and he was losing weight? That's automatically A Good Thing.

You're losing weight incredibly fast? Why question your good luck? Don't look behind the curtain!

Had he been a thin cat, would they have looked harder for the reason behind his weight being in a tailspin?

And could such a thing could happen to a person?

Are fat patients shamed because fat is automatically unhealthy?

Do doctors write off symptoms as being due to weight without looking for any more dangerous cause?

A quick internet search revealed something quite unsettling---doctors desiring to deny any health care whatsoever to fat patients:

In Britain in 2012, a survey found 54% of doctors thought they should be able to deny treatment to the obese. 

Also in 2012, a Massachusetts woman was denied health care because of her weight. She's about my size. Obese but active. The female doctor said her office was unable to accommodate that weight.

Like there'd be a structural collapse? WTF?!

You want something more recent? February 2015 in the UK - David Cameron proposes to strip obese people of their benefits.

Fat-shaming is one of the few prejudices it's widely acceptable to practice.

It's so prevalent, we fat people---consciously or unconsciously---shame ourselves. We accept there's something wrong with us just because we're overweight. We accept that our body shape is open to being mocked, and that it's our fault, not the bigoted mockers.

So stop it.

Right now.

Realize that there are other people out there just like you and that you're all beautiful.

There are awesome companies out there, like Hips and Curves and Chubby Cartwheels and Pyramid,  that specialize in beautiful plus-size clothing.

And learn from my experience - be assertive in your pursuit of health.

Know your rights. Fight for yourself.

If you think your doctor might suck, get a second opinion.

If you know/feel something is Wrong and you're not being listened to, get a second opinion.

Not all vets/doctors are equal.

And, at least in the US, remember - YOU are paying THEM. (Quite a lot, actually.)
They're not doing you a favor by seeing you. They're your employee. If their work is not up to scratch, fire them and move on.

Never let an asshole be in charge of the health of you or your loved ones.
In that context, assholes can kill.


*PS - Like the lady with the teacups? It's a stamp on Etsy!

Zaftig Is Sexy Too 2

I think this is a beautiful group, and I wish more jobs were given to plus-size models.

I'm With The Band

I'm With the Band: Confessions of a Groupie by Pamela Des Barres
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Having recently had occasion to use the phrase I'm with the band in actual conversation, I thought I should read this book next. The cover image captures the sexy yet innocent vibe of the 1960s perfectly. I mean, the rock stars called her "MISS Pamela". There's an endearing formality amongst all the wild sex.

It really was a different time. You could phone-up the backstage at arenas. Miss Pamela hitch-hiked *everywhere* and only once did the driver who picked her up try to kill her.

Also-- Not sure why people have called her a slut. She didn't lose her virginity until 19 years old, she made Jimmy Page really work for it before she slept with him, and she turned down Mick Jagger because she was being faithful to Jimmy Page (who was not faithful to her). It wasn't until later, on the rebound, that she went from one relationship to another, but they were relationships, not one-night-stands. (And yes, she did end up with Mick Jagger for a while, don't worry.)

I thought she was fairly self-aware. The horrors visited by hard drugs and alcohol are plainly depicted. "Intimate diseases" are present as well.

Oh, for what it's worth, Timothy Hutton is not in this book, so that other reviewer is thinking of another story.

I found this book to be a very entertaining read, a glimpse behind the curtain at the 1960s-1970s rock scene as experienced by a woman of the times.

View all my reviews

Let's Spend the Night Together

Let's Spend the Night Together: Backstage Secrets of Rock Muses and Supergroupies by Pamela Des Barres
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I found this an interesting and mostly fun read. Each chapter of the book is devoted to a SuperGroupie - a gal who knew what she wanted, went after it, and succeeded. And in the process inspired her rock heroes to write songs about her.

These particular women interviewed consider themselves freewheeling feminists who were neither victimized nor exploited, but flashes of girls who did experience degradation at the hands of cruel bastards drunk on fame can be seen hovering at the edges of some of their recollections. And violence even found one of the SuperGroupies. (The rape scene in Showgirls seems to be based on what happened to one of the women interviewed.)

Full of advice for anyone wanting to become a SuperGroupie, though it also warns of the dangers and heartbreak that accompany the role, this book is a fun read for those interested in the 1960s-1970s rock scene. It gets somewhat repetitive when it gets to the 1980s stories.

And if Elvis is on your radar at all, you should read the first chapter at least.

View all my reviews

First Massachusetts Coffee License

Look! It's a piece of coffee history, one of my favorite kinds of history.

And the honor of possessing the first coffee & chocolate license in Massachusetts - possibly in the colonies - goes to a woman:  Dorothy Jones in 1670.

Yay for enterprising colonial women who know the value of providing coffee and chocolate!

Young Nurse Review

Perspiration Is Serious Business

From: http://gogd.tjs-labs.com

Solving Bioshock Cats on National Cat Day

Today, October 29, is National Cat Day and to celebrate I shall share with you a partial SOLUTION to the BIOSHOCK Cats Mystery.

Including cats for the player to discover actually IS a game-within-the-game.

While it is still unknown who originally designed the black-and-white cat and put him/her in the original Bioshock, all the level designers of Bioshock 2 participated in finding fun places to stash kitties. And...

We have Steve Gaynor to thank for putting NAMED cats in Minerva's Cave.
All Hail Steve!!

There are THREE cats - one for each level of Minerva's Cave. The names of each feline honor someone important to the development of computing - which is of course very important in the Cave storyline. I found Babbage and Turing, you may remember.

Armed with this information, I set about to find the third kitty on my second playthrough - and discovered:

Lovelace

According to Wikipedia, Augusta Ada King, Countess of Lovelace is recognized as the World’s First Computer Programmer, having written the first algorithm intended to be processed by a machine.

For whose computer did she write this? Charles Babbage’s.

Babbage called her the Enchantress of Numbers and wrote of her in his Passages from the Life of a Philosopher (1864):

I then suggested that she add some notes to Menabrea's memoir, an idea which was immediately adopted. We discussed together the various illustrations that might be introduced: I suggested several but the selection was entirely her own. So also was the algebraic working out of the different problems, except, indeed, that relating to the numbers of Bernoulli, which I had offered to do to save Lady Lovelace the trouble. This she sent back to me for an amendment, having detected a grave mistake which I had made in the process.

Fun facts:
 - Ada was the only legitimate child of the poet Lord Byron.
 - The computer language Ada created by the US Department of Defense is named after her.
 - The British Computer Society awards a medal in her name.
 - There is a movement to have an Ada Lovelace Day (which this year was October 7).

I didn't know any of that, so I am now a better informed person because of Bioshock's dead cats.  :)

Many thanks and virtual cupcakes to Steve for allowing me to interview him on the subject of virtual kitties. He's a wonderful fellow and you can follow his tumblr and his twitter.

----------

Want to join my newsletter?

Abducting Heiresses

Abduction is a popular storytelling device when it comes to historical romance, which isn't surprising since you can trace its place in romance literature right back to the Abduction of Persephone.

When you're talking historical romance set in England or Wales, abductors - and elopers, for that matter - are usually racing to Gretna Green in Scotland to take their vows.

Gretna Green was the Vegas of its day, in terms of quickie marriages. The marriage laws of England and Wales, requiring amongst other things parental consent for marriages of those under 21 years of age, did not apply in Scotland and Gretna Green was right across the border.

Photo by Niki Odolphie from Frome, England

But things that can seem romantic in fiction are often far from it in real life.

Edward Gibbon Wakefield, who is apparently something of a hero to New Zealand, tried his hand at heiress abduction in 1826.

He happened to hear of Ellen Turner, a beautiful 16 year old heiress, from an acquaintance who mentioned her as being a neighbor. So Wakefield moved to her neighborhood, learned the family's circumstances and habits, and then appeared at Ellen's school with a letter informing the headmistress that Ellen's ill father had taken a turn for the worse and the girl must accompany him at once.

This was entirely plausible - her father was sick, in an age of primitive medicine sudden deterioration was not uncommon, and a friend or servant would often be asked to carry an important letter (there being no FedEx service or the like).

So Ellen was packed off in Wakefield's carriage.

Which headed north to Scotland.

Now alone with her, Wakefield told the teen her father's business had collapsed, sheriff's officers were in pursuit of her family (for debt), and only through marrying him could she hope to save her father from jail and her family from the poor house. He said he would use his (nonexistent) fortune to save them, but only once he and she were wed.

Remembering that she was a sheltered 16 year old, in an age when women of her class were not taught anything about business and economics, trapped in a small space with a stranger - and Wakefield was known for being a smooth talker, it's pretty easy to see how she would come to believe him over the many hours to Gretna Green.

This is Wakefield & Ellen's marriage license:

Successfully married, Wakefield informed the Turners where to send his checks and promptly took his new wife off to France, where he thought he would be safe from any repercussions. He was wrong. Ellen's family contacted the French police.

Extradited, Wakefield stood trial at Lancaster Assizes, was convicted of abduction and sentenced to three years imprisonment.

This had no affect on his marriage, which was still valid.

An Act of Parliament was obtained to annul the marriage, so Ellen finally could be free.

(Yes, an Act of Parliament. You couldn't get out of a marriage without one. So those Regency romances you read with divorce treated as if it were nothing? Yeah. Not happening.)

Just so you know, some time after his release from prison, Wakefield relocated to the Australian colonies and did something more honorable with his life.

So why is today's post about heiress abductions?

Because today in Salem Massachusetts history:  October 25 1736 a Mr. McIntosh is bound at Salem court for trial, charged with attempting to abduct his two nieces, who are heiresses, and carry them off to England.

Heiress abductions happened in America, too.

Isn’t it cool when truth and fiction converge?

Stale Coffee Makes You Listless & Un-sexy

From: http://www.kitchen-retro.com/2011/09/beware-of-stale-coffee.html

For Neither Girls Nor Women

Have you seen this new Dr. Pepper advertisement?

There has been some shock expressed at the perceived misogynistic content. 

Good thing those American consumers don't know about the Yorkie chocolate bar wrapper - it's been this way for years:

What do you think?

Amusing or sexist?

Hidden History of Salem Video with New Soundtrack

I have re-done my HIDDEN HISTORY OF SALEM book-teaser

because MY BOOK INSPIRED A SONG

and that is just too cool not to share:

Buy the book!  You'll like it. Click here 

There's real history plus cool obscure facts plus ghost cats and candy and coffee and romance and a horrible murder - all sorts of interesting things. And we haven't even gotten to the witches.

Buy the single, too! It should be coming out in the next month or so. I'll keep you posted. 

Woman To Woman

This is an interesting historical document - it's using Sisterhood to forward the abolitionist cause.  Not surprising in the North, since abolition was taken up by many churches and church work was one of the few acceptable public spheres in which women could participate. And, of course, Uncle Tom's Cabin was written by a woman, Harriet Beecher Stowe.

However, there is research coming out now that this broadsheet might have played well to the white female audience of the South, too.

Seems as long as you were female, The Man was keeping you down, regardless of color.

I've listed some books you might be interested in below.

I also want to read Gary Gallagher's book on how Hollywood has shaped our perceptions of the Civil War. Because, maybe it's just me, but I think of images from Gone With The Wind before I think of those black & white photos of the war dead. (Which on the one hand is a good thing, because those photographs are very gruesome.)

So there ya go.  Some things to think about.