100 – no, wait, 97 – YA books every feminist should read

[bodlon]

I can get triggered in a convenience store. It’s true.

My history of sexual assault isn’t something I discuss much, and the experiences I’ve had aren’t usually things I want to put out where strange people can touch them. This isn’t the venue, and I’m not interested in discussing the particulars tonight. What I am interested in is: 1) establishing that I understand what triggers are in a visceral way, and b) making a point about how difficult it is to predict triggers, and ultimately the futility of trying to shield everyone from all harm all the time. That sort of thing never goes anywhere good unless you like unwelcome interference, censorship, and a rather nasty sort of coddling and control wherein the one striving to protect turns into something far less benign. Something that says “I know better than you,” or “I’m doing this for your own good.”

Which brings me to Bitch Magazine’s 100 Young Adult Books for the Feminist Reader.

Basically, a staff and volunteer team at Bitch made a list of “100 young adult novels that every feminist should add to the stack of books on their bedside table.” The list was met, at least initially, with enthusiasm.

And then — because this is the Internet — everything exploded.

A reader expressed reservations about Jackson Pearce’s Sisters Red. Others chimed in. Then other books — notably Tender Morsels by Margo Lanagan and Living Dead Girl — got picked out as problematic. Bitch dropped the books from the list. Word spread, and authors like Justine Larbalestier, Maureen Johnson, and Scott Westerfeld asked for their books to be removed as well.

I used to subscribe to Bitch. I still read it on occasion, though as a periodical it kind of quit speaking to me a few years ago (for obvious reasons that should be more or less obvious). It is, on the whole, excellent. The people who work on it do good, important work. A book list compiled by them should have been a great idea.

The trick with feminism is that it isn’t like chemistry. You can’t tuck a piece of litmus paper in between the pages of a book and then match the color of the paper with something to see just how good it is for breaking down systems of patriarchy and fostering equality. You can make some pretty good assessments if you take the time to read it and think about it and discuss it, but ultimately these things are matters of opinion. Informed, thoughtful opinion, supported by theory and experience, but opinion nonetheless. Two people can make equally compelling, rigorous, honest arguments for and against the same work. Feminism isn’t a single, monolithic ideology. There are lots of different feminisms, and some of them disagree vehemently.

Any reader (or viewer, or listener) can do that very same thing. They read or watch or listen and react. They draw their own conclusions, and those conclusions can disagree with conclusions another reader/viewer/listener might have. And because stories need to feel true, and because they have to have conflict in them in order to be stories, sometimes that reaction is an unhappy one, or a frightened one, or a sad one. Especially when you’re writing about a class of people who regularly endure violence or discrimination (as women do).

It happens. And it is not regrettable. It’s simply part of the territory.

My honest opinion is that the Bitch crew either a) didn’t do their homework, or b) lacked the courage to stand up for the books they chose and overreacted when someone expressed discomfort. In either case, they’ve failed to do their work in a credible way. It would have been far better to acknowledge the areas in which those works might be triggering or problematic, explain why they were chosen in the first place, and use it as an opportunity for discourse. What’s good? What’s bad? What can we take away from this thing?

The backpedaling, the waffling, the redactions, etc. do them no credit. It diminishes their positions as a group whose opinions I should note. It makes them look foolish and skittish. It makes the work Bitch does look dumb. And frankly, that sucks.

We can trust women and their experiences without treating them like fragile things which weep at the drop of a pin. Or isn’t that at least part of the point?

This post has been mirrored from Christian A. Young's Dimlight Archive. To see it in its original format, visit dimlightarchive.com