I just recently read an article by Cathleen Kaveny called “What Women Want: ‘Buffy,’ the Pope, and the New Feminists.” The article is very interesting because it addresses problems modern women face and the doctrines of the Church. Although I am not certain I share her view of Buffy as a compromise between Christian morality and the modern world, she had some very compelling points.

Kaveny discusses the problems of conceiving the concept of a ’strong woman’ in the modern world via Buffy. Although society often advocates the idea of gender ‘equality’ (that is, the view of women and men as equal beings with equal stengths and abilities in the same areas) this idea functions best in the abstract realm. It is difficult for a women to embody both strength and femininity. Kaveny cites how Buffy struggles to find a balance between these two ideas: “On the one hand, her fragile appearance, and even her name, do not correspond well with her vocation as a vampire slayer. On the other, her powers haven’t proved to be a guy magnet. Even basically decent boys in the Buffyverse tend to resent strong girls, or at least to shy away from them.”

The new, feminist alternative, embraced by Pope John Paul II is gender “complentarity.” In this model, “men and women are different but that they need each other.” Kaveny believes that:

It is this aspect of “gender complementarity” that may seem useful to girls like Buffy, who take for granted their equality with men but worry about preserving their attractiveness to them. Buffy knows that from time immemorial, for reasons now inscrutable, the Slayer must be a young woman. She therefore knows the deep and real compatibility of her femininity and her strength, but she learns from experience that some boys can be so threatened by the latter that they cannot see the former. In their eyes, her strength means their weakness, their weakness means their lack of masculinity, and their lack of masculinity means her lack of femininity. Frustrated by the fragility of the male ego, Buffy wonders whether her love life would be more satisfying if she could become a stereotypically feminine “fancy girl.”

In the episode “Halloween”, Buffy finally gets her chance to find out. When she and her friends are selecting costumes from the new store in town, she chooses a dress that is “nothing short of fabulous: a satin-and-lace confection in shades of rose and pink, with pretty pink bows adorning the ivory lace framing its bodice” (2). Of course, every costume from this shop also happens to be cursed, causing their owners to literally become the character symbolized by their costume while their own personalities are suppressed. Unfortunately, the character suggested by Buffy’s costume is weak, helpless, and vulnerable without a strong, virtuous man to protect her. Throughout the night’s experiences, Buffy learns the hard way how dangerous and foolish it is for a woman to rely on a man for protection. She encounters Spike, who remarks “Look at you. Shaking. Terrified. Alone. A lost little lamb. I love it.” But as he leans in to bite her neck, she snaps out of it, ‘gracefully arises and deftly fends him off, signaling her rejection of a dependent and vulnerable role. Yet, in a recognizably contemporary twist, she retains her femininity in the fight; the beautiful dress survives intact. Picking up her stake again with relish, she remarks, “It’s good to be me.” ‘

Kaveny also addresses the ways in which Buffy rejects conventions and traditions. As, a strong, modern woman, she not only fulfills her calling; she updates it:

According to ancient prophecy, the Slayer must forgo all connection to family and friends, all home of intimacy and warmth. Only then will she be able to fight the forces of darkness effectively. In other words, she must be the female equivalent of the Marlboro Man: strong, independent, and solitary. But over the course of the series, Buffy figures out how to get the job done in another way. She loves both her family and her friends. Far from being a hindrance to her work, they become indispensable in her fight against evil. For example, in one episode, Buffy allows her own physical strength to be combined with the superior mind, heart, and spirit of her friends, in order to defeat an otherwise invincible foe.

In the show’s final season, Buffy takes this upgrading one step further: she rejects the undoes the very structure surrounding the tradition of the Slayer. With the help of Willow, her Wiccan friend, Buffy transforms all ‘potential’ Slayers into actual Slayers. In other words, Buffy has undone the tradition that “in every generation, there is a chosen one. She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer.” Thanks to Buffy, Slaying will never again be a burden for one girl to shoulder alone.

Buffy provides young women with a strong role model and a vision of healthy, balanced womanhood. She has the ability to thwart antiquated gender conceptions and traditions, balance strength with feminity, and to accept and modify her vocation with grace. She also displays intelligence, morality, and sacrifice. She is a phenomenal role model for young girls. Even the Pope thinks so.

When I was re-watching the first season of Buffy, I was struck by an episode called “Teacher’s Pet.”  In this episode, Buffy’s science teacher mysteriously disappears and is replaced by an attractive substitute teacher named Ms. French, who is secretly a large preying mantis in disguise.  Ms. French takes over the class for purpose of finding and mating with male virgins, which she kills afterwards by biting off their heads.  Before too long, her magnetic sexuality has attracted and captivated every highschool guy within a mile.  Once again, Buffy must save the day by rescuing Xander and classmates from their horrible fate.

However preposterous and silly the plot may sound, Joss Whedon actually uses it to conduct a compelling examination of the two different visions of female power represented by Buffy and Ms. French.  When re-watching this episode (& once I got past the hokey special effects), I saw an interesting contrast between Buffy and Ms. French’s forms of power; Ms. French’s power seems to traditionally feminine whereas Buffy’s incorporates more masculine traits. 

Ms. French’s power seems more ‘feminine’ in its nature because of its relation to men.  Her power is a magnetic sexuality that attracts boys to her like flies and leaves them entirely at her mercy.  She quite literally ‘preys’ upon virginal males, taking advantage of their inexperience and youth.  This aspect of her power seems straight out of the Bible, relating back to the idea that a woman is naturally sinful, sexually depraved, and will lead a man into corruption.  Her body is highly sexualized through a number of visual clues.  First, by the sensual confidence with which she walks and carries herself, and secondly, by her attire.  She wears a mini-skirt to her first class and removes her jacket, leaving her in only a tank top.  Her eye makeup is dramatic and her lips are stained with a vampy color that contrasts with dazzlingly white teeth.  She invites her male students over after school hours, greets them in a provocative outift and offers them drugged wine.  Her power is particularly alarming because it is not physical; her power impacts the mind and strips males of their free will.  The purpose of her power is also for production of offspring, a female ability.  However, Ms. French is not all-powerful.  Both she and her power are defined by and dependent upon males.  In addition, by selecting the preying mantis as her alternative form, the creators add to the sinister side of her sexuality.  During the episode, Ms. French explains how the female preying mantis is cannibalistic and significantly larger than the male of her species.  During copulation, the female kills the male by biting his head off.  Thus, sex with this woman becomes both figuratively and literally dangerous.

Buffy’s power, by contrast, seems more traditionally masculine.  Her power is an extraordinary physical strength that helps her to slay vampires.  However, unlike Ms. French, Buffy’s power is not limited.  Buffy does not cease to have her strength if vampires are not around; she can use her powers against all forms of creatures, even humans.  In a way, her power seems less sinister and more simple because it relates strictly to the physical, rather than the mental.  Buffy may kick your ass, but she cannot mentally enslave someone.  Her power is also for the purpose of destroying enemies and protecting allies, rather than for reproduction.  Thus, Buffy’s power seems to parallel the traditional responsibilities of a man, rather than a woman.  Although Buffy is attractive, her sexuality seems less threatening.  Although she has an athletic physique and carries her body confidently, her appeal is that of the down-to-earth-girl-next-door.  She wears dresses, but they are not overly-provocative.  She also thinks and speaks more analytically than emotionally.  She is brave, upfront, responsible, and logical.  She instructs the males in her life (like Xander and Giles) on what to do and speaks clearly, rather than acting flirtacious or coy.  Buffy also reverses gender expectations when she, the hero, saves Xander (the ‘damsel’) from imminent peril, all the while making sarcastic and witty quips to prove her mental prowess as well.

In the first episode of Buffy, the relationship between the Watcher and Slayer is introduced to the viewer. The Watcher trains and prepares the Slayer to face the vampires and forces of Darkness, but rarely fights beside her against them. This is a familiar relationship for the viewer, common in sci-fi movies and TV series about heros. Typically, an older male figure provides the younger, female protagonist with instruction, training, and missions. Although each show has its own terminology for the interactions between fighter/hero and advisor/boss, there is initially little difference between them. The relationship begins simply, but gradually begins to function on another level. Sometime it is romantic, as in the case of Alias’ Sydney & Michael Vaughn & La Femme Nikkita‘ Nikita & Bob, and other times it is pure business, as in the case of Charlie’s Angels. In Star Wars, the padawan/master relationship can assume a paternal aspect. Although the relationship between Buffy and Giles (her watcher) transforms over the seasons, it is clear from that from the first episode that she has seized the reins of control and does not intend to let go.

Here is an interesting article about Buffy and Academia that I stumbled across today on BBC News. Articles such as this one help to show why Buffy is more than just a popular TV show: it is analyzed and considered by intellectuals in the academic realm.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/education/1642829.stm

The first episode of Buffy introduces main characters, establishes ties between them, and delves into their backgrounds. It also begins to explore some of the important themes within the show, such as gendered stereotypes, the danger of ignorance, and the threat posed by oppressive patriarchal power structures.

In the opening sequence, a teenaged boy and girl break into Sunnydale Highschool at night to go up on the Gym roof. This idea belongs entirely to the boy who is tall and muscular with spiked hair and a leather jacket. The girl is pretty, blonde, in school-girl attire, and very unhappy and anxious to be there. The first words of the show are her nervously asking, ‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’ She seems very unwilling to enter, but not certain enough to decide without his approval. His response is to dismissively say, “It’s a great idea, now come on,” take her by the hand, and pull her inside. As she follows him, she grows increasingly jumpy. When she finally tells him in a stammering voice that she doesn’t want to go, the boy sleazily suggests that she “Can’t wait, huh,” and moves in to kiss her. The scenario seems familiar: the overbearing, hormone-driven boy lures the naïve blonde away, and just as the young couple becomes caught in the throes of passion, a terrible monster (in this case, a vampire) will come upon and kill them. But instead of fulfilling our expectations, the scene takes a dramatic twist. After assuring the blonde that they are alone, she replies ‘good’, he turns in time to witness her undergo a frightening change. Her face transforms into a hideous façade, wrinkled and furrowed, with yellow eyes and long fangs, as she bites his neck.

This scene summons and plays upon many of our assumptions, especially those concerned with gender roles. Darla (we later learn her name) is petite, blonde, and dressed innocently. She seems as simple and innocent as she dresses, and one expects that she will be a tragic fatality, some anonymous ‘good kid’ who wound up in ‘the wrong place at the wrong time.’ The boy with his tough-guy appearance and aggressive body language seems pushy, somewhat rebellious, and entirely in control. When they kiss, the viewer unconsciously recalls countless scenes from horror movies where an unsuspecting, amorous couple is discovered by some monster/sociopath and one or both brutally killed. While the viewer is prepared for some horror to spring from the shadows, they never expect the danger to come from the helpless blonde. The horrifying transformation in her face and the ease with which she attacks the boy shows a complete change of power. It also demonstrates her cunning. All along, she has possessed incredible physical strength, but chosen to conceal it. Every gesture of nerves or anxiety was consciously done to play upon his perception of women as timid and easily dominated. In allowing him to think he is in control and lure her away, she effectively plays with her food before eating it. Thus, Darla seems to possess what have been traditionally considered masculine (physical strength, aggression, logic) and feminine (subtle, clever, manipulative) powers, making her twice as threatening. It is this exposing and fracturing of stereotypes which is so typical of the show and its goal to reinvent the gendered identity of a warrior/hero.