I
grew up during a time when being a geek was a very male thing, and
often unwelcoming of the few women who came along. Or so I’ve
always been told. You see, I was always an aberration. Although male
myself, there never seemed to be an absence of geek girls in my life,
whether through games like Dungeons and Dragons or fans of science
fiction like Doctor Who, Star
Trek, or Star Wars.
Yes, there were usually more guys than girls, but the girls were
always there. It was rare that there wasn’t at least one girl in my
D&D games, and there were a few occasions when I was the only
guy. Heck, I even managed to convince my nerd-hating sister and her
friends to play D&D with me every now and then.
Of
course, being a geek was still a socially ostracising thing,
especially during my high school years. Most people, boys or girls,
were not geeks and they did not approve of those who were. But
amongst those of us who were, there was a significant representation
of girls. It wasn’t until university that I first encountered the
idea that being a nerd or geek was a “guy thing”, and that was
pretty much confined to a D&D group I belonged to for a year.
That group was all male and was the first place I ever encountered
actual prejudice against female gamers. For the rest of my university
life, I mostly didn’t encounter it. I was one of the founding
members of a science fiction fan club at the university, and we never
had any trouble attracting female members. In fact, by my last year
there, I was the only male still on the executive council (I was
treasurer that year, having given up the president’s position the
year before).
Then
came the internet. (I’m showing my age, aren’t I?) It was only
then that I started to truly realize how few female geeks there
really were, even though I could still point to many I knew
personally. Nonetheless, I had to come to accept that I was simply an
aberration. My experiences were far from the norm.
Luckily,
that’s all changed now. The last decade or so has seen a huge
increase in the number of women who call themselves geeks, nerds, or
fans. Although I don’t have access to precise statistics, the
numbers seem to be pretty close to evening out between men and
women—at least among Doctor Who fans.
It’s nice to no longer be an aberration. It’s nice to no longer
have people (men and women alike) guffaw—or in some cases outright
refuse to believe me—when they learn that I actually know some geek
women. It’s nice to no longer be a rare male who accepts women
geeks. Yes, there are a few men out there who still cling to the “old
guard” and fight viciously to maintain their “boys-only zone”
with nonsense such as the “fake geek girl” (sorry guys, having
breasts does not make one a fake geek) or the recent atrocious hate-campaign against Anita Sarkeesian of Feminist Frequency. However,
those people are losing and good riddance to them.
Into
all this comes Chicks Dig Time Lords: A Celebration of
Doctor Who by the Women Who Love It,
a collection of essays by female novelists, academics, and actors.
I’m actually a bit late getting to this book as it came out in
2010, but I only recently got a copy of it. I held back on reviewing
it for a little while because I wanted to review it along with its
follow-up, Chicks Unravel Time,
published this past November. Unfortunately, I haven’t yet been
able to acquire a copy of Chicks Unravel Time (and
my Amazon order keeps getting pushed back; I could purchase the
e-book, I suppose, but I much prefer reading from a printed book), so
I’ve just decided to go ahead with my review of Chicks
Dig Time Lords.
The
essays (and interviews and even one comic strip) in this book cover a
wide variety of style. Some are simply fond remembrances of growing
up with Doctor Who,
such as “Time is Relative” by Carole E. Barrowman (sister of
Captain Jack Harkness actor, John Barrowman). Others are examinations
of organized fandom and trying to fit in with it during a time when
it was dominated by men, such as Kate Orman’s “If I Can’t
Squee, I Don’t Want to be Part of Your Revolution”. Still others,
like “Two Steps Forward, One Step Back” by Shoshana Magnet and
Robert Smith?, are critical analyses of the programme. There’s even
one essay, “In Defense of Smut” by Christa Dickson, that delves
into the world of fan fiction, and more specifically, smut.
As
with any compilation, some of the essays within are stronger than
others. All of them are well written, but depending on personal
tastes or what you’re looking for at the time, some will naturally
be more entertaining than others. Many of the essays are also quite
informative. One of the most fascinating things I learned over the
course of all the essays was the differences between fandom in
different countries. The authors in the book are not just from the
United Kingdom. A significant number of them are from the United
States, as a well as a few from Canada and Australia. In particular,
the States were much more welcoming of female fans than other
countries. Many of the authors reflect on travelling between the UK
and the US (or Australia and the US in Kate Orman’s case) and
discovering the surprising difference. Kathryn Sullivan says in “The
Fanzine Factor”:
I had heard that Doctor Who fans in the UK were mainly male, but it was still a shock, after all the Doctor Who conventions I had attended in the US, to see an auditorium filled with men and boys. There were a few females—a dealer in the huskers room, a presenter doing a Vanna White impersonation during one of the game show segments, and a few girlfriend/wives scattered about—but not many others that I could see.
Things
like this provide for an interesting new perspective and help to open
one’s eyes to different situations.
Talking
of new perspectives, one of the essays that I found most intriguing
is “Two Steps Forward, One Step Back: Have We Really Come That
Far?” by Shoshana Magnet and Robert Smith?. Oddly, I actually
disagree with most of Magnet and Smith?’s opinions and conclusions,
yet it’s the one essay in the book that has kept me going back to
it multiple times to reread either the entire thing or sections. The
essay is an analysis of social equality (examining sexuality, gender,
and race) during Russel T Davies’s time as Doctor Who’s
showrunner. The authors argue their point well, even if I feel that
many of their points are misplaced. It seems terribly unfair to
dismiss Captain Jack’s pansexuality because he’s from the future
and then complain that there were no non-straight companions during
the period. As well, calling for companions “who can be police
officers, tomboys, warriors or journalists, not shop assistants and
temps...” strikes of
classism. There are legitimate criticisms that can be made
of Rose, but being a shop assistant and from a lower-class background
isn’t one of them. Strong female characters should be able to come
from any station in life. Not everybody has the opportunity to become
police officers, journalists, etc. Nonetheless, despite my
disagreement with much of the essay, I found it a fascinating look at
a different viewpoint, and a strong
lesson in how the same thing can be seen in starkly different ways by
different people. I must admit that I find the essay’s final
sentence rather amusing: “With the Moffat era on the horizon,
Doctor Who’s feminist future is suddenly looking very bright
indeed...” To be fair, at the time this was written, I probably
would have agreed with that sentence, but given how things have
progressed since then (see here for my views on the subject), I’d be very curious to know Magnet and
Smith?’s current views.
One
of the essays I was most looking forward to reading is Kate Orman’s
“If I Can’t Squee, I Don’t Want to be Part of Your Revolution:
Crone-ology of an Ageing Fangirl”. Orman was one of my favourite
Doctor Who novelists during the nineties (and one of the very
few female ones—something that is still unfortunately true today),
writing what I consider some of the best Doctor Who novels
ever. However, I hadn’t seen or heard much of her in recent years,
so I was very curious to learn her view on modern fandom. Her essay
is a fascinating examination of fandom as a whole over the years and
its intersections with feminism. She discusses the difficulties of
being a female fan in Australia and learning to use “the
communication style of the testosterone-drenched environment of
Usenet” in order to fit in, something that has made it difficult
for her to relate to modern female fans. As she says, “So my
bluntness shuts down discussion; it’s something about myself I want
to change.” Orman is open and frank about everything—the good and
the bad, both regarding herself and fandom as a whole. It makes for a
very engaging and satisfying read.
However,
my favourite essay in the book is, without a doubt, Seanan McGuire’s
“Mathematical Excellence: A Documentary”. There is nothing
particularly deep about this work. It doesn’t perform a detailed
critical analysis of the show or purport to contain any great wisdom.
It’s just pure, light-hearted fun. Without any shame or apology,
McGuire tells the story of discovering Doctor Who when she was
seven and believing it to be a documentary series. This eventually
leads, at twelve years of age, to her crush on Adric—yes, Adric,
one of the most lamented companions of the show’s entire run, old
and new alike. The companion few fans ever have anything good to say
about. To be honest, I actually liked Adric when I was young, even
though I look back now and ask myself, “Why?” But I suspect
McGuire asks herself that question sometimes, too. Overall, her story
is both heartwarming and hilarious. It’s short, but fun. And very
memorable.
While
there are some essays in Chicks Dig Time Lords that I consider
less interesting or entertaining than others (“Two Generations of
Fangirls in Middle America” by Amy Fritsch, for example, does not
appeal to me as much), the parts of the book that most disappoint me
are the interviews. There are three interviews spread throughout the
book: the first with India Fisher (who plays Charley Pollard,
companion to both the eighth and sixth Doctors in the Big Finish
audio Doctor Who series), the second with Sophie Aldred (who
played Ace during the seventh Doctor’s time), and the third with
Laura Doddington (who plays Zara in the “Key 2 Time” mini-series
from Big Finish). On the whole, I find the interviews lacking in
depth. I don’t feel that I really learned much about these three
women—about who they are, their careers, or their time with Doctor
Who. While the interviews sort of scratch the surface of these
things, they don’t go into the kind of detail I would have
preferred. Still, interviews can be tricky things. Time constraints
can often play a role in limiting them, not to mention you can’t
really control how the interviewee responds. As such, I’m not too
bothered by the interviews. There’s enough good stuff in the book
to overshadow them.
There
is one comic strip in Chicks Dig Time Lords as well. I was not
previously familiar with Torchwood Babiez, an online strip by
Tammy Garrison and Katy Shuttleworth. However, reading “Behind the
Scenes” in this book has made me want to check it out. In the
strip, Garrison and Shuttleworth describe how they first created
Torchwood Babiez and how they were unprepared for its
popularity. The strip is a humorous and entertaining read.
Overall,
Chicks Dig Time Lords is a fascinating examination of fandom
from a female perspective. Despite the surge in the numbers of female
fans, there still aren’t very many women writing for Doctor Who
(in any form, be it the tv show, books, or audio), and this book
helps to turn that around just a little. I’m looking forward to
Chicks Unravel Time.
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