Popular Culture Review Vol. 12, No. 1, February 2001 | Page 88

84 Popular Culture Review girls prefer strong characters. In fact, the most oft-repeated phrase used to describe Buffy’s most favored characteristic is her ability to “kick butt.” Is Buffy simply extending a tradition of “kick butt” male heroes, or does she really represent a transition in how young females are portrayed in texts? The first texts that children may see are fairy tales and mythic stories. Enough has been written about the unequal power relationships in fairy tales to convince us of the convention of “powerlessness” in the female characters. Snow White, Little Red Riding Hood, and Sleeping Beauty each fall victim to their weakened positions and are only “saved” through the efforts of a stronger and smarter male character. Although there may be many examples of strong female characters in the original mythic or fable stories of many cultures, most Western myths have been rewritten and sold with emphasis on the power in the direct action of the male heroes contrasted to the artifice and narcissism of the female characters. Translating myths and fairy tales to contemporary settings forms many of the action-adventure stories that make up adolescent literature of today’s writers. These “quest” stories appeal to young people because they contain the “coming of age” theme that positions the protagonist within the context of the larger world. Unfortunately, most of these stories deal with male protagonists making them more accessible to young males than they are to young females. Where does that leave our young females? Many, for better or worst, pick up formula romance stories. The S w eet Valley H igh series, gothic romances, and adult romance novels written by writers like Danielle Steele are marketed heavily to adolescent girls from 10 to 18. What troubles many about this split in reading genres is that boys read stories where the characters grow in perspective and maturity due to meeting a challenge head-on and facing it down. Girls may be primarily reading stories that value inaction rather than action. Nilsen discusses the danger inherent in the idealized females in formula romance novels who model a passivity that the reader may subscribe to. “If even they [the protagonists]—with their brains, good looks, and perfect parents and homes—must wait for boys to bring them happiness, then why does [the female reader] have to find it for herself?” (227) Another trait that appears prominently in formula romance novels is the implicit definitions of good girl/bad girl dichotomy. Enciso studied four pre-adolescent girls’ responses to their reading of the Sw eet Valley High series. She saw how these girls positioned themselves within the good girl/bad girl dichotomy using the traits of each as delineated by the stories. As Butler would say, they “performed” their gender based on their interpretations of the fictional performances valued in the stories. “The girls link good girls with neat rooms, forgiveness, and reserved anger; and bad girls with messiness, unleashed anger (hitting), meanness, and insincerity” (51). Enciso concludes that the romance narrative of these books prepares girls for a world where popularity, passivity, and sexuality are interwoven—a world where