Content Warning: Sexism, Male Gaze, Racism, Problematic Themes
"Firebrands" The Heroines of Science Fiction & Fantasy is written by Pamela Sargent, featuring many artworks by Ron Miller. Notably, Pamela's name is secondary to Ron's on the cover, immediately setting the stage for what might come. Despite this immediate, brow-raising note (which may very well be innocuous, if artist's names are typically placed above, or larger than, the writer's).
This book is separated into four chapters, as well as an aside discussing profound authors of the genre. The first chapter covers the "beginnings" of sci-fi (often sited as being Mary Shelly's Frankenstein, who's author is, notably, a woman) to the 1930s, the second going over the 1940s and 1950s, the third focusing on the 1960s and '70s, and the "final" chapter discussing the 1980s and 1990s.
Each chapter will be discussed in its own article for this review, in the hopes that I can cover the most important beats of each era. There's a lot to cover!
Finally, I will note that the artwork featured serves two purposes: to appeal to the male gaze, and, likely unintentionally, to entice a queer audience. The attractive women and homoerotic undertones in some images, while certainly created from the aforementioned perspective, irregardless appeal to lesbians and other fem-attracted orientations.
Chapter 1: The Beginnings to the 1930s
It is with absolutely no surprise that this is a rough era for women in science fiction and fantasy (as well as most other forms of media at the time). The early 1900s was notable for several things, not the least of which being the rampant racism, sexism, and The Great Influenza Epidemic (a disturbingly familiar pandemic that killed some fifty million people). It is also, importantly, the era of the suffragettes, the movement of women who ultimately garnered us modern AFAB folk the right to vote.
The women of the stories in this era are, predictably, often more akin to objects than characters. They were the sexy damsels in distress, the beautiful enchantresses that lead to the downfall of men, the paragon of innocence (which were often defiled by evil men within the story), or self-sacrificing punching bags.
Interestingly, while there are certainly no characters here that would pass the Bechdel test, there are several who are not portrayed as the above. Notably, Mitaine (Legend of Croquemitaine by Ernest I'Epine, 1863) and Britomart (The Faerie Queene by Edmund Spenser, 1589-1596), both knights commanding vast armies of men and who are as feared and respected as any man within the corresponding stories.
Mitaine is stated to be modeled off Bradamant of Orlando Furioso (Ludovico Ariosto, 1516) who, along with Ayesha of She (H. Rider Haggard, 1887), "...are not meant to be realistic depictions of women," and "...they are equals, even the superiors, of the male characters around them..."
While reading Pamela's descriptions of these characters, along with the blurbs beside the artwork, one can't help but to wonder if this was a sort of predecessor to the "girlboss" cliché in recent media. Without having read the source material, we as readers can only speculate. It is notable, however, that details of Mitaine and Bradamant (as well as another character from Orlando Furioso, Marfisa) are only given short paragraphs beside or beneath their corresponding pictures and no further detailing within the piece itself. Thankfully, Bradamant and Marfisa are not portrayed in an overtly-sexualized manner, with Marfisa even appearing to be of Native American descent (and not depicted in a racist manner).
An illustration of Mitane by Gustave Doré (left), notably portrayed non-sexually, in the Cassell, Petter & Galpin publication circa 1870.
Mitane as portrayed by Ron Miller in "Firebrands" (right) scantily-clad and without practical armor for battle .
More suspect to the tropes of the era, Animula (The Diamond Lens by Fitz-James O'Brien, 1858), Weena (The Time Machine by H. G. Wells, 1895), Rima (Green Mansions, W. H. Hudson, 1904), and Lylda (The Girl in the Golden Atom by Ray Cummings, 1919) are showcased almost back-to-back, save for Lylda. Animula and Lylda are perhaps the most interesting of these four, as they are the very definition of ignorant and helpless. Both are also by no means a "heroine." Pamela describes Animula with the sentence, "Animula may not be a heroine in any sense that the other women in this collection are heroic..."
Animula is a microscopic being living within a water droplet. An "obsessed, criminal inventor" discovers her when looking under a microscope, falls in love with her, and subsequently allows the water to evaporate out of negligence, killing her.
Similarly, Lylda is an entity of some sort living within a single atom of gold, named by the man who discovers her, and also serves as his love interest. These characters, likely unaware of their observers and infinitesimally small, function more as props within their stories rather than characters. They may invoke the metaphor of unrequited love for a reader, or perhaps forbidden or impossible love, but ultimately serve as unaware women being watched and claimed by the men above them. While that may have not been the intention, one wouldn't be stretching their imagination too far to view these characters and their stories in this way.
Rima is similarly deplorable, though for entirely different reasons. She is said to be a woman of the Amazonian jungle, "discovered" by protagonist Abel. Rima is depicted by Ron Millar as a pale-skinned, blue-eyed, black-haired woman without blemish or fault.
After some research, there appears to be discrepancies in her appearance. One comic publication depicts her as a pasty blonde, while the 1958 film of the same name has actress Audrey Hepburn portray her. Hudson had apparently based her off of the South American legend of a tribe of white people living among the mountains. Take that as you will.
Weena is, potentially, the most fleshed out of the "heroines" (the title could have just as easily replaced that word with "women," and probably should have), though it is not because of her personality or role in The Time Machine.
Instead, Weena is one of the Eloi, the eventual evolution of the wealthy and privileged men and women of society. She, like all other Eloi regardless of gender, is a simple creature which lives to eat and rest, a hedonistic creature that ends up devoting herself to our narrator and protagonist after he saves her from drowning. Narratively, she is used as a cautionary tale to warn against the affluence and carelessness of the upper class.
Through this segment of the book Pamela discusses several notable members of the science fiction and fantasy communities. One such is an author who passed before his works could be completed, a man named Stanley G. Weinbaum.
Weinbaum was heralded as a pioneer in his treatment of aliens, creating alien races and characters who had "their own reasons for existing," as quoted by Isaac Asimov. Pamela then adds, "It may be no coincidence that Weinbaum was also innovative in his treatment of female characters."
His life was cut tragically short at the young age of thirty-three (which Pamela states "prevented him from [finishing his series.]" That would do it, Pamela,) but our author makes the claim that he "had every sign of becoming a major figure in science fiction..." His work on his novel and would-have-been series The Red Peri (1935) involved the titular character Red Peri Maclane, a space pirate and scourge of the stars. The men of the story are astonished to discover such a powerful figure is, in fact, a woman.
At the tail end of this section we begin to discuss the science fiction magazine Astounding (later renamed to Analog,) which was taken over by a man named John W. Campbell. While John is credited to have discovered the likes of Isaac Asimov (most famously known for his novel I, Robot, later adapted into a movie starring Will Smith), A. E. van Vogt (The Weapon Makers, The age of Ptath), Robert A. Heinlein (Starship Troopers, Stranger in a Strange Land), and Theodore Sturgeon (More Than Human, The Cosmic Rape), he is certainly not the most palatable figure among more progressive circles.
Campbell made a great change to the science fiction works portrayed in Analog, particularly that he rejected the absurdity of prior works in the genre. Campbell demanded that works featured in his magazine be grounded in reality, which, at the time, meant women were to take on the role of mothers, caregivers, and wives. He also halted the use of women on the covers of these issues, deciding that their reader base (which Pamela claims to have been 93.3% men just over the age of thirty) would respond better to seeing other men on the covers, sometimes shared with the monster of the story.
Homoeroticisms aside, eventually women would make a reappearance to these covers, creating the sci-fi version of "the eternal triangle" many dime novels are now known for: the woman, the protagonist, and the monster all sharing equal space on the cover.
After this point, while there is a brief continued discussion of women in more empowering roles, much of what we see are Ron's depictions of other women in the genre. Several of which show off clearly either the artists internalized racism, or the author's of the respective works being portrayed. It is, unsurprisingly, somewhat uncomfortable.
This era is rife with problematic subjects (of which I assume avid readers of the genre are no stranger to) such as sexism, racism, "defilement," and similar themes. Of the works listed, few harbor a woman which could be considered a "heroine" by any sense of the word. It is also notable that the frequent use of the word "female" implies the belief that there are only two genders, which is deeply ironic considering the genres covered within this piece. Science fiction and fantasy are known to have gender-nonconforming characters quite frequently, whether they be an alien race or a type of fae or deity.
Ultimately, while a fascinating study, most readers tired of the mistreatment of women will not get much out of this chapter. If not because of the era itself, then because of Ron's strange sexualization of characters such as Mitaine, who are not portrayed in such a way in their original publications. Although there is nothing wrong with enjoying sexy women (because women are, undoutably, sexy), there is still criticism to be had about the unnecessary sexualization in media.
I hope you enjoyed part one of my review/discussion of "Firebrands"! If you are interested in seeing parts two through five, please subscribe to our e-mailing list! Thank you for reading, and have a great rest of your day!
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