Showing posts with label Black women. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Black women. Show all posts

Friday, September 13, 2013

The Walking Dead: The Problem With Michonne



Michonne is one of the most popular characters on The Walking Dead. There was great anxiousness about who would be cast in the role and when she would actually be joining the cast. Unlike Daryl Dixon, who is also a character on the show, Michonne first appeared in The Walking Dead comics.  Michonne is the longest running character of colour and one of the few characters of colour to appear in the comics.

She is known for her fearlessness in battle, her skill with a katana, her long dreadlocks and of course her all Black clothing. What little we know about Michonne’s background appeared in Playboy rather than in the traditional comics. Michonne is a character of action and she is regularly given very little dialogue. In a word, Michonne is taciturn.
In many ways, much of Michonne’s humanity has been removed. She doesn’t really get to have moments of self reflection, mourning, or happiness. Humans are very complex beings and if we were to sever Michonne’s relationship from the group and solely examine her by herself, her lack of nuance would be evident. Michonne couldn’t possibly be conceived of as an individual or even compelling because of the constant one note characterisation. Michonne only really gathers the attention of the readers of the comics because of the way in which she handles zombies, rather than her ability to show the whole range of human experience or emotion.

In some ways, Michonne is a superhero - in that she is entirely defined by her special ability - the ability to kill. But this would actually be a doing a disservice to superhero writers, since it’s de rigeur for superheroes to have some terrible tragic back story with lots of personal angst. Michonne doesn’t even get that - she’s not a superhero she’s a weapon, an embodiment of her sword.

Worse, she is a sword that is wielded by Rick, the White male leader of the group. There are innumerable scenes in the comics where Rick, when confronted by a zombie, just says “Michonne” and expects her to act. Yes it shows confidence in her, yes it acknowledges her skills - but it also assumes her obedience and doesn’t bother with overt acknowledgement or even requesting. Michonne feels almost like Rick’s attack and guard dog. Even in the TV show, Michonne had to prove herself worthy in a way the other characters never had to - only being accepted into the group when Carl agreed to her presence, after Michonne proved herself useful and willing to perform his dangerous task.

At one point we had high hopes for Michonne being further developed. There was a mini-series of her past before meeting the group and Michonne was opening up with various tidbits to Rick. It looked like we were going to see a more multi-layered, developed and emotional Michonne we were actually optimistic (yes, us, optimistic!)

Friday, November 16, 2012

Fringe and Astrid as a Disposable Mammy

Five years ago when Fringe first appeared on television, there was absolutely nothing like it on the air. Since then, we have seen alternate universes, fantastic events and now finally a dystopian world.  With it’s final season, Fringe is taking the opportunity to wrap up storylines and bring closure to the world that they have created.

When I learned that the fifth season would be the final season of Fringe, one of the things I had hoped for was the redemption of the character of Astrid.  Astrid, played by Jasika Nicole, has the distinction of not only being the only recurring African-American woman, but fifty percent of the cast of colour.  Clearly, from the beginning, racial inclusion has not been a high priority for Fringe.

Astrid is a trained agent and the person the team falls back on for much of its technological questions. The problem is that after five years, I don’t feel like I really know a lot about her.  I know that she has an ailing father, speaks five languages, studied cryptology before joining the FBI and is obsessed with butterflies, but I don’t know much about her personal aspirations or desires.  At best, she has never been more than a side character, whose role has primarily been to be Walter’s caretaker, despite appearing in every single episode to date. When there is an important mission, Astrid is continually left behind in the lab, to keep and eye on Walter, help with his experiments and deal with his various fetishes.  

For all of the help that Astrid gives Walter, he never calls her by her name.  He has called her “Asterisk, Astro, Asteroid, Astringent, Aspirin, Ashram, Ostrich, Clare, Athos, Alex, Afro and Abner.”  Some would excuse this because Walter’s brain has been altered, but the fact remains that Walter is able to evaluate and comprehend difficult information, remember old cases, think rationally and remember the name every character but Astrid’s, though she works the closest with him. Over the years, Walter has proven that he does indeed care about Astrid; however, he simply does not care enough to remember her name.  When Walter does speak to Astrid, he does not say please or thank you and simply orders her around.  Walter is also not afraid to scream her name, if she doesn’t respond quickly enough to suit his desires. Walter does care about Astrid in a paternalistic fashion, but he certainly does not see her as the equal of any other character, based in his treatment of her.  Essentially, for Walter, Astrid is little more than a servant and the fact that the other characters never intervene on Astrid’s behalf, affirms his assessment of her role on the Fringe team.

We never see Astrid having any downtime; she is always servicing the team, or Walter personally. Like Mammy, Astrid is always on call and expected to serve without complaint.  We can tell occasionally that she is frustrated by Walter’s  treatment of her by her tone of voice, but since the first season, Astrid has not been given the opportunity to explicitly say that how she is being treated is unacceptable.  If anything, over time, Astrid has become more accepting of her secondary role.

To date, Broyles, also an African American and the leader of the Fringe team has appeared in ninety-six episodes.  He has always been vital to the progression of the story and in the show’s many alternate universes we have learned much about his character.  In season five, the team has shifted into the future and though Broyles is still with the Fringe division, it is now under the control of the Observers.  We have not seen much of Broyles in season five nor have we been told how he has been able to survive.  When Broyles finally does meet up with Olivia, Peter and Walter again, he is thrilled to see them.  In fact, he risked his position to be able to see them one last time.  In this exchange, though Broyles knows that Astrid is alive, he never asks about her, or acknowledges her importance to the team.  This is particularly disturbing, as Broyles hugs Olivia and seems grateful that she has survived.  What makes Olivia’s survival more important than Astrid’s?  The only thing that separates the two women is race.  The blond-haired Olivia is deemed essential, while Astrid is understood to be disposable. So in essence, we have the only Black male character thankful that a White woman survived and not giving a damn about the only Black woman on the Fringe team.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Review of Black Magic Woman by Justin Gustianis Book 1 of the Quincy Morris Series

Because I seem to love reading things out of order, I have already done a review of Justin's second book in this series, Evil Ways.   In this book, we are introduced to Quincy Morris a sort of psychic investigator/problem solver, Libby Chastain his white witch friend and partner, as well as Dale Fenton an FBI agent, in the Behavioral Science unit. Each one of these characters has a very unique part to play in the story.

Someone is killing children by removing their organs while they are still alive.  Dale is desperate to find out who is responsible and so he manages to secure the help of a South African cop from the Occult Crime Unit named Van Dreenan.  At first their relationship is simply based on the respect that someone gives a fellow professional, but over time and experience, a level of trust is developed between the men.  Dale realizes that he must learn to give credence to the possibility of  the supernatural and he learns from Van Dreenan not only how real magic is, but that it can have deadly consequences.

My main issue with this story is that a significant section of the plot involved a White South African cop hunting down a Black African woman, who was a violent muti murderer. In an extreme display of White male privilege on page 80 Van Dreenan says, "Apartheid was what it was.  Neither of us can change history.  And now it is gone.  And neither of us need mourn it's passing". Speaking about apartheid so cavalierly and then quickly dismissing it's ongoing effects, is a sign of White privilege.  Though there is a burgeoning Black middle class, much of the division of wealth in South Africa still means that Blacks are largely impoverished, despite being in the majority.  An evil as great as apartheid should never be so easily dismissed, and while Van Dreenan may not mourn its passing, at no time did he acknowledge his personal gains because of it, much like many White Americans continue to fail to realize that though slavery ended some time ago, that they still benefit from unpaid labour of African-American slaves. You see, without infusion of African labour, the U.S. would not be the powerhouse that it is today, nor would these White South Afrikaners be able to live in such relative comfort, juxtaposed to the Black native population.  Saying "it was what it was," allowed Whites to simply confess their crimes in the Truth and Reconciliation commission, while Blacks received no justice. How can it be a thing of the past, when justice has yet to be served?  Fenton, the Black American cop does not even bother to call him out on his privileged language. When need not make a statement of agreement; silence is enough to imply acceptance.

Cecelia Mbwato is an umthakhati, "Zulu for witch or sorcerer. In Sotho, the name is baloyi." Gustianis makes a point of saying that not all who practice voodoo are bad people; however, the negative treatment of Mbwato makes him yet another author who is willing to construct it as negative, even violent belief system.  Van Dreenan chose to come to the aid of the FBI in part because of a personal vendetta.  I won't tell you what this is, but I do feel that it is absolutely necessary to point out that examination of the history of violence in South Africa, will show that Blacks have more often been the victims of violence and not the perpetrator, and this is especially true when it comes to policing -- yet this is not the road that Gustianis chose to embark upon. In this case, the White South African is the victim -- how absolutely unoriginal.

The White/Black binary was further displayed in relationship between Cecelia and White supremacist Snake Perkins.  Throughout the novel, Snake refers to Cecelia as nigger.  I know that this is common language for a White supremacist, but it was jarring to read.  At one point, I felt like screaming at the book, "yeah, I get it he's a racist, enough with the slurs already," because the use of the word nigger was ubiquitous.