Some thoughts on women's fantasy armor

 I hate the argument that “women aren’t strong enough to wear armor” or “women are agile, not strong.” First off, this is stupid. Secondly, besides the fact that armor is more maneuverable than most people assume, female armor mostly shows up in fantasy, a genre often known for its poetic or cinematic breaks from reality. A man can cleave his foe in twain in slow-mo, but a woman with good upper body strength breaks suspension of disbelief? Wut?

Besides, fantasy isn’t about what people “should” do. If you think about it, an illiterate, but pure-hearted peasant really shouldn’t become the king. Maybe the heroine should have learned a more agility-based fighting art. But she didn’t, because she must be a knight, like her father before her!!!111 Well, why not? If you can use “it’s not real life” to justify skimpy armor, you can use “it’s not real life” to justify a 16 year-old waifish elf girl in full plate one-handing a zweihander.

Playing the devil's advocate, yes, skimpy armor occasionally allows people to "dodge," though not as often as video games would have you believe. Real life sometimes imitates art. There’s an Indian martial art called Kalaripayattu that emphasizes flexibility and flying leaps. It’s amazing to watch. Weapons include swords with shields, daggers, and a whirling, whip-like sword. The male practitioners fight in thongs or loincloths, and give each other therapeutic oil massages as part of their Yoga practice! If these were ladies in D&D, people would be screaming “sexist”. Ironically, the women practitioners IRL are more modestly dressed due to religious conservatism. So yes, in certain traditions, fighting naked or in little clothing is perfectly feasible. But I’d still rather have a woman be unarmored than stupidly armored.

I personally dislike the idea that skimpy female armor is to distract men. Not from a realism perspective but from an artistic one. A good action hero has agency. His badassery stems from doing things, not in the influencing of other people to do things. If a lady warrior wears impractical armor to mess with men, it’s exactly the same stupid, sexist argument that was mocked in a widely-linked anti-feminist bingo card: “Women have all the power over men- you can reduce us to an uncontrollable jelly of lust!” I’m not like, outraged that a woman warrior is sexy- that’s appealing also- but I like to see a female warrior, when she’s on the field, rely more on her skills than on head-gaming men.

In a non-sex-related example, sensitivity is important in a female surgeon, both as a doctor and as a woman. But in her professional life, more emphasis should be placed on the job’s primary medical skills, not secondary social skills. If some medical drama about her only showed how damn NICE she was and didn’t show much actual surgery, I’d be pissed.

An anthropologist once noted that in all societies she’s observed, little girls aimed to please. Little boys aimed to excel. I want my women heroes to excel.

In Like Flynn

I saw Errol Flynn's Robin Hood yesterday. For those of you who don't know, Errol Flynn is the hottest man alive*. He is sex on legs. He has a reputation for being a pervert, which is fine with me. He's allowed to be a pervert. He's Errol Fucking Flynn. Orlando Bloom has often been called the next Errol Flynn. No. Blasphemy. Errol Flynn is the next Errol Flynn. Errol Flynn could spank Orlando Bloom until he cried for mommy, and then when she showed up, he'd fuck her. Because Flynn is just that badass. And his thighs... (oh lord!)

..Ahem.

You all should see this movie. It's hilarious. And by hilarious I mean hilariously bad. It has atrocious music in mono and ridiculously flamboyant costumes made out of crushed velvet and metallic fabrics. Actors being hit by arrows have this comical delayed reaction before they fall over. The fencing is hammy. Marion is whiny. The love scenes are best scene-selected through. In general, it feels like you're watching somebody's LARP. I'm not a man, but if I wanted a gay sidekick, I'd have to go with a lute-playing bard who runs around in red tights and a cape.

"Will Scarlet of the Merry Men" also makes a magnificent porn name...

Ahem!

Another thing is, while the portrayals of all the characters are pretty much black and white (not literally- the film is in "Technicolor!") I can't but feel sorry for the villain, Sir Guy. If I opened the door on my fiance's maidenly bower to find her being shagged stupid by a forest brigand, I'd be pretty damn pissed too. Conversely, Robin Hood has a creepy, predatory vibe. Never mind that Marion is as stupid as a rock ("Oh look, I've been abducted by a renegade outlaw and fifty sweaty men, this isn't creepy at all") and develops a severe case of Stockholm's Syndrome ("I'm your hostage. I want you so bad. Do me now.") I get the impression that Robin Hood is a man who beats and humiliates clergy, inflicts stark terror upon many an innocent traveler, incites mobs to their worst and most bestial behavior, and toys with women like a cat with mice. Robin Hood may be a good man, but the fact that he is chaotic, unpredictable, lawless, and desperate makes him a force to be feared, like any other lord of armed men. His cheerfulness is precisely what makes him cruel- oh, let's laugh while we kill people. He may be popular and brave and charismatic, but you know, still cruel, in the end. It doesn't make him any less interesting or attractive, but it's something to keep in mind.

Wit and charm is one of the things I miss in modern action heroes. I miss Errol Flynn's silver voice, his measured inflection and its timbre. Modern action heroes, to achieve this thing known as "psychological realism," come in two flavors- Brood and Sulk. If you're lucky, they may also come in Angst and Whine. Not so our Robin. He's eloquent, articulate, smooth like water over silk. Between smiting the unjust and harassing the clergy, Errol Flynn seduces the ladies and taunts the knights, makes witty conversations and flashy entrances. He feasts, carouses, and swaggers around Sherwood forest with a giant deer carcass strapped to his back. No other hero does this. (Except for Viggo Mortensen, and Viggo Mortensen is a hippie.) If abstract traits can be concretely embodied, Errol Flynn is a towering pillar of charisma, charisma in its Platonic form, its elemental state. If there were monuments to charisma like those to liberty, a four hundred foot tall statue of Errol Flynn would grace New York harbor, possibly exposing itself to greater Manhattan. That, beyond any physical manifestation, is what Errol Flynn is.

... Not that it hurts. He wears a lace-up collar partway undone. Under it I see his glorious tanned neck, the rise of his Adam's apple, the hollow of his throat, his broad, manly chest...

...Ahem.

I digress.

*by alive I mean dead.

Pictures: (all captions are mine, of course)

"Hey, crazy lady, your husband's like RIGHT OUTSIDE!"

"I'm suspended fifty feet in the air above shark infested waters. This is a great time to take a picture!"

"I can get away with wearing a polka-dotted tie. Why? Because I'm Errol Flynn!"

"I'm badass"

".. I'm only thinking pious thoughts, hm?.."

"This is my son. He's hot."

"This is my grandson. He's also hot. Where do you think they get it from? Me. Because I'm Erol Flynn."