Herbert James Draper is perhaps the most realistic of the Pre-Raphaelites in his technique and composition. I will start off with a painting which I used in my very first post.
Ulysses and the Sirens by Herbert James Draper, c. 1909
Ulysses and the Sirens is taken out of The Odyssey by Homer. As his ship passes the island on which the sirens live, Ulysses (Roman variation of the Greek Odysseus) commands his men to stop their ears with wax so that they would not be bewitched by the song of the sirens. These dangerous spirits are known to lure sailors to death on the rocks by their song. Ulysses himself wants to hear their singing, so he has his men lash him to the mast of the ship. Thus bound, he will be unable to endanger his crew while in an irrational state. Since his men cannot hear the dangerous melody, they do not steer the ship on a catastrophic course.
In the interesting composition shown above, the sirens are seen climbing aboard the boat rather than singing from shore. These figures are interestingly posed. The intensity of the drama, however, is on the faces of the men. Those who cannot hear look visibly alarmed and even angry while their captain has a crazed expression on his face. Notice the vacancy in his eyes. To complete the effect, the water adds an almost subliminal element of vividness and motion.
In contradiction to how I ended my last post, I had an easier time then expected in finding a commendable female character from ancient mythology. Though she did not do anything particularly heroic, Nausicaa is described favorably in The Odyssey for helping Odysseus after he washes up on the shore of her father’s kingdom. Still, she was relegated to a role which was typical of the times. At least her mother, Queen Arete, was alleged to have been wiser even than King Alcinous, her father.
Nausicaa by Frederic Leighton, c. 1878
The compassion and nurturing nature of Princess Nausicaa in this tale by Homer evidently inspired the title characterfrom Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, the manga comic series (and subsequent feature animation) by Hayao Miyazaki.
Color illustration from Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind by Hayao Miyazaki.
This character lives in a post-apocalyptic world of monsters, deities, and warring nations. Her mixture of humility, heroism, innocence, and femininity is a refreshing departure from an overworked device of more recent manufactured mythologies.
The device to which I alluded is a type of template for female heroes: sexual attractiveness (within narrow cultural stereotypes) combined with attributes more traditionally associated with men. The latter include anger, aggression, and violent capability. The right measure of tomboyishness adds nuance. Too much tends toward boring predictability and limitation, and I appreciate Miyazaki for avoiding this. As a general observation, he gets women and girls right, and he does so with insight, variety, and respect.
An example of a writer who did something similar (especially with younger characters) is C. S. Lewis. Lucy Pevensie, Polly Plummer, and Jill Pole from various installments of The Chronicles of Narnia series are a few of the endearing and interesting personalities he invented. In The Silver Chair, he used Jill in a subtle but clever plot development to demnostrate the ways in which adults demean younger girls. His social statement was tangential to the main story line and not at all heavy-handed. Such critiques are often more effective when they are not emphasized.
1998 watercolor update by Pauline Baynes of her 1953 original black and white rendering from The Silver Chair, Chapter 2Jill is given a Task by Alice Raterree, from The Silver Chair, The Chronicles of Narnia
Finally, I must mention Meg Murry, a central character in the Time Quintet of Madeline L’Engle. Given the fantastic nature of these stories, she and her mother are still put across as intelligent and believable. It is good to read a constructed myth written from a female perspective in which the heroine is neither sexy nor violent. In fact, I wish there were more male figures like this as well.
A writer is something of an absolute monarch. In the domain of the author, literary legislation may be unilaterally enacted to improve the lives of women in created myth. This is not necessarily novel if the female character is divine or otherwise supernatural. Homer wrote reverently of “clear-eyed Athena” (the goddess of wisdom) in The Odyssey, and her assistance to both Odysseus and his son, Telemachus, was instrumental in driving the plot forward.
Pallas Athena by Jan StykaPainting by Jan Styka in which Athena inspires Odysseus to take vengeance
Fast forward, and switch media to Ponyo, the animated feature by Hayao Miyazaki. The sea goddess, Granmamere, is wise, kind, benevolent, and powerful. She has an uplifting and restorative effect on other characters in the story.
Still shot from Ponyo, directed by Hayao Miyazaki, 2008
In another beautifully made animation, The Secret of Kells by Tomm Moore, there is the wood sprite, Aisling. She is a loyal friend who aids a boy in the completion of a righteous task despite dangerous opposition. She is also an interesting and well-conceived character.
Still shot from The Secret of Kells, directed by Tomm Moore, 2009
By now, someone reading this has probably cried foul. I became aware in the 1960s that many feminists objected to the so-called “goddess image” as being a restrictive presentation of female identity which carries with it the burden of meeting unrealistic expectations. Their complaints did and do have merit, but it is important also to keep in mind that fiction is fiction. Such devices can be good for a story as long as they are handled responsibly. There is a literary spectrum in the presentation of women. If positive portrayals are limited to goddesses, excuses might be made for denying this respect to feminine characters who do not possess divine powers and who therefore more closely resemble women encountered in real life. Moving across the spectrum, I will address additional categories of female characters in my next two posts.