On Quiet and Underestimated Characters

Growing up, I read a ton of books that were chock full of awesome, brash, complex girls, and I’m sure many of you did as well. Today, we have a new abundance of brave girls and young women like Katniss Everdeen, Tris Prior, and Hermione Granger fighting to keep their loved ones safe, standing up beside Jo March, Elizabeth Bennet, and Pippi Longstocking. Not that Jo, Lizzie, or Pippi do very much hand to hand combat, unless you’re reading Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, but still. We all agree that they kick ass! As a mother to a bright, headstrong daughter myself, I love that girls today have various literary role models, unafraid to speak their mind or engage in an epic battle of wits or save the day/universe/Hogwarts/etc. That rocks and authors should definitely keep doing that.

One group that is easy to overlook in favor of those bold youngsters, though, are the ones who are silently strong, for lack of a better term. Those we don’t see as bold because they are the wallflowers and introverts, who are not the protagonists, don’t end up married to the prince, don’t go into battle, or don’t (or perhaps can’t) speak their mind. I don’t think they are intentionally overlooked, or written in any way to play up the bravery of the hero. They often simply play a background role and are not meant to be central to a story. Sometimes, however, these are the bravest people in a novel, and our gaze passes right over them to others who burn brighter. For me, some of these figures of quiet strength have been sources of inspiration, however unwittingly, and I am grateful to them and the authors who helped to create them.

I am a sucker for Arthurian legend in any form I can get it. My favorite interpretation is Marion Zimmer Bradley’s The Mists of Avalon. In this version, Queen Gwenhwyfar, was an obscurely bold woman. She was a queen, true, but also highly neurotic, possibly agoraphobic, a barren queen failing in the one duty expected of her. Yet she faced everything life threw at her as best she could, always publicly supporting her King even if she disagreed with him privately. Gwenhwyfar embodied the experience of women throughout the ages in so many ways. Like so many of her historical sisters, she had had little to no say in the path of her own life, destined to be given over always into the hands of others. She (and her ladies, and sisters in history) had to wait behind while their sons, brothers, husbands, and fathers went to war, had to wait and wonder if they would return. I can’t imagine having to do that. I am not strong enough to have to wait behind and wonder if or when my loved ones might return to me. That takes an incredibly deep strength, but the women in this novel, and many millions of women throughout history, have held onto that strength with quiet dignity.