See previous.

In response to both of the questions you put in, I, quite frankly, don’t care about this as much as you do. I don’t quite understand why you feel so invested in defending Martin as some apex of strong female characters. He’s a fine step in the right direction, and he certainly cares about writing as strong of women as he can, and he succeeds where many other authors have failed, and/or simply not tried at all. 

That said, I’m sorry, but I don’t think George R.R. Martin’s works can be held up to the same level as those of Erica Jong and Jeanette Winterson, and I don’t think any amount of back and forth will convince either one of us of much of anything. Literature still has a long way to go towards any sort of equality, and I’m not going to rest laurels on Martin for doing a job better than anyone else. In spite of all of this argument, if our expectations are so low that Cersei Lannister can meet them, then we can applaud that effort sure, but maybe we also need to raise them up a little bit higher.

If those traits are supposed to make me more confident in her as a “strong” female character, you aren’t succeeding. Maybe try a woman who isn’t defined in relation to the men in her life, and you’ll be a bit closer. I don’t think you quite understand the criteria that flowchart lays out, so let me elaborate.

Can she carry her own story? She pretty much fails this one, given the fact that she is defined by her relationship to the men in her family. She can’t carry her own story, because the thing driving her isn’t anything internal to her–it’s reactionary towards men. It implies that the only sort of thing that can drive a woman forward are things that men do. Alternatively, if she were driven, say, by her own goals, by her own desires, capable of being defined outside of her relation to men, then she would pass this criteria.

Is she three-dimensional? This is hardest to pin down, but personally, I always think of three dimensionality as a character’s capacity for change and depth. The only sort of change she goes through is her humiliation, which comes about as a punishment for her reckless sexuality (because certainly a woman can’t be punished for anything else). This isn’t change, this is degradation.

Does she represent an idea? She is, in essence, hysteria, and represents a repressed female violence and resentment towards patriarchy. Just because that’s a feminist-ish sounding idea doesn’t make her any less empty as an actual person. It also makes her eventual humiliation far more harsh, as it rebukes that idea, rendering her meek. 

Does she have any flaws? She sure does. She got one!

Does that make sense? I hope I’ve made myself clearer.

Yes. Do you think I’m wrong? Give me an argument, instead of trying to employ fallacy from authority.

Not three-dimensional. She’s a combination of “Girl-Hitler” and “Evil Queen/Matriarch/Incestuous-Sister.”

This flowchart does a far better job of explaining it than I ever could. 

Yes. That’s kind of a bad question. What you probably meant to ask is whether porn can be Art, high art, important art. Again, the answer is yes. Or rather, I would reverse the identity. If high art can be pornographic (as is often charged) than certainly pornography can be art.

Not really. Everything seems to be in a bit of a lull. 

Well, let me be clear on one point, Martin does a much, much better job than most fantasy writers. However, he made certain choices which hobbled him, and which hobbles the fantasy genre in general.

Here’s the crux of the issue–the generic fantasy world which has been employed in the vast majority of fiction is fundamentally misogynistic. It is a world where men play king and are important characters, well rounded and full of complex thoughts, and women are background characters, relegated to the sidelines. Martin, thankfully, attempts to usurp this system, but he only does it in one way, and that one way isn’t particularly flattering.

Here’s the general progression of Martin’s female characters–they usually start out as the queen character–impotent and weak, and as they develop, the only direction they seem to grow, as they become more active and complex, is in the masculine direction. In the end, the old trope is still in play–the only way a woman in fantasy can be an interesting character is if she pretends to be and behaves like a man.

This approach, in the end, keeps the same system cemented in place. The women become strong only because they play by the patriarchy’s rules. Are they stronger than usual? They sure are. But women should be able to be strong characters without having to become like men in the process–that’s just as misogynistic as the system itself. 

Lots of plans, but I haven’t had time to get anything written. Hopefully soon, but we’ll see.