Something pissed me off today. You get a poem about it.

 
the value of daughters

So you would write a story
for me to care about.
I will tell you how.

Draw a man. Use ink. Use words if you have them. Shape him out of clay.
Give him a name, so I may remember him. Tell me he is strong.
Give him a child. Make it a daughter
so I know he is a good man. A man who would stay for a daughter
who would teach and love a daughter
even without a son to bind him.

And keep the daughter young. Old enough to smile for the man you created
(for you created a good man)
but years from learning of opinions
or that she could have one, if it won't mess your story
the one I care about.
And give the daughter pretty curls
and tell me she has her mother's eyes
like all good girls do.

Now. Sharpen your blade. The one in your mind
where you keep your story.
Watch reflections in its steel until you see
the daughter of the man you created
for me to care about

then swing fast. Draw a knife, a crowbar,
a bullet to send through pretty curls.
A car with broken lines.
Or create wolves to tear her
or hands to squeeze her throat
or send her piece by piece in boxes to her father
blood soaking down your paper.
Rape her if you must.

But do it all
between panel, chapter, line
behind the easel.
Turn off the camera
so I do not hear the screams
so I do not mistake a daughter
for something that might have become a human being.

Does he cry, the man you created? He should, if you did your work carefully.
(if you created a good man)
Catch his tears in resin
or ink or words or clay
and string them up around him, fancy ornaments like something interesting
for me to care about.
When you begin your story, I will see them
and turn the pages.

And do not wonder for the daughters.
They hit the ground no harder than their sisters
trampled into dirt or sold for pieces
or left behind before their mother's milk has dried
or drowned or starved or oil burning down their backs
names listed at no grave site.
Those daughters drawn in blood and bone
not ink not words not in a father's tears
unless that father is a good man.
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astraldream: (Default)

From: [personal profile] astraldream


Wow. You're amazing.

I'm so sick of this story.
athelind: (Default)

From: [personal profile] athelind


As much as that trope has been abused, it's even more egregious in Lian's case -- because she IS a character who's been handled well and developed thoroughly over the years, by other writers.

And Robinson -- James Robinson, who MADE HIS NAME with one of the most character-driven superhero books of the last twenty years -- did EXACTLY what you describe. He didn't treat her as a person. He didn't even treat her as a character. He treated her as a PLOT DEVICE, and stuffed her right in that fridge.

Out of nowhere. Between panels.

Thank you for this. I know posts about this issue are going to be cropping up in the various comic blogs I read; may I link back to this?
astraldream: (Default)

From: [personal profile] astraldream


'Supergirl Smash' indeed. I should send her James Robinson's address.
evewithanapple: a woman of genius | <lj user="evewithanapple"</lj> (shaima)

From: [personal profile] evewithanapple


Thank you. This needed to be said.
alchemise: Ellen, with shotgun, and Jo (SPN: hunters)

From: [personal profile] alchemise


This is an excellent poem. Thank you for this.
blueswan: (Default)

From: [personal profile] blueswan


Thank you for your strong and angry words.
anonymous_sibyl: Red plums in a blue bowl on which it says "this is just to say." (Default)

From: [personal profile] anonymous_sibyl


Here via [profile] blueswan9. This is very powerful and very well written. Thank you for putting into such beautiful and strong words what so many of us have been feeling and thinking.
mona: anita fite and her friend cissie raise anita's parents, who are babies, like a (mostly) happy couple. (anita's parents have two mommies)

From: [personal profile] mona


This is spot-on, powerful, beautiful, and painful in all the most needed ways. Thank you.

From: [personal profile] sajia_kabir


Oh totally. And I add my voice to the chorus of admirers.
Page 3 of 5 << [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] >>
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