Have you seen today’s “spoilers” for Doctor Who?

amillionmillionvoices:

i-feel-the-wind:

Sure have, and, uh…boy, do I have feelings about them.

I know I’m followed by at least a few people who don’t want to see spoiler-y things like this, so if you’re interested in my thoughts, meet me beneath the cut.

Keep reading

“I was precisely the kind of person River’s character was made to appeal to. I was that sort of repressed, nerdy guy who bought into the fantasy that was being sold to me.”

No.

No, you weren’t.

I’m sorry, I’ve been trying to find a way to say this without coming off as combative, but… No. There are elements here that I understand and can respect from a feminist criticism point of view but the argument operates from the fallacious, and frankly misogynistic, assumption that River was created as a male fantasy, something for men to leer at and Steven Moffant to publicly wank over. She wasn’t. Or, conceding the point (though I disagree), even if she started out that way, that’s not where she ended up.

River Song is not about you.

She’s got nothing to do with you.

River Song is not for or about men.

River Song is about US.

River Song is for WOMEN.

Women who want to be scientists.

Women who want to have careers AND families.

Women who’ve endured trauma.

This is so, so important. River spent her childhood neglected, abused, and unloved. She was caught in a cycle of abuse from which she tried multiple times to escape. And eventually did. She shows women that we can – and DESERVE – better lives. That we can make those lives for themselves. That we can ask for help. That help will be given.

Her life up to this point has been dictated entirely by doctrine and organized religion. Calling her a psychopath is not an exaggeration. Before LKH, she doesn’t know the difference between right and wrong. She doesn’t care. She doesn’t even fully understand what’s happened to her. “It’s all a bit of a blur,” she says.

It’s easy to think River’s sacrifice in LKH is about the Doctor. It’s not. It’s got little to nothing to do with him. This is the first point in River’s entire life where she’s given a CHOICE. A choice to be something different. Someone different.

She’s been a pawn in someone else’s match her whole life, and it echoes strongly the way women are trained and conditioned from birth to follow overt or subliminal orders: don’t do that, don’t sit this way, don’t wear that, don’t say this, don’t eat that, don’t take up space, don’t make noise, don’t offend, don’t fight back.

But River does. She does fight back. LKH is the first moment, but she doesn’t stop. Freezing time in TWORS, she knew she wouldn’t be able to keep it that way. She knew he’d have to die. She did it to show him that he was loved. Because no one ever showed her and she knew what that would mean to him. That it wouldn’t save him, but it might bring him peace before the end.

River Song is about overcoming the worst possible experiences and thriving. About not letting horrific circumstances harden you.

She’s about learning to forgive not only others, but ourselves as well. Women carry an enormous amount of internalized misogyny and self-hate and worthlessness and River HEALS. She shows us we can heal too. We can learn to love ourselves. To take care of ourselves. That we are worth loving and that we have the capacity to love someone else without drowning in them.

When did we get this idea in our heads that “strong female characters” couldn’t be in love? When did we get the idea that they have to be badass 24/7? Rory waited for Amy for 2000 years but no one calls him pathetic. No one complains that his life revolves around hers. When Rory makes sacrifices, we applaud them as romantic and dedicated and when River does the same, we call her weak.

That’s not an issue with her, that’s an issue with us.

River is about doing the right thing even when it’s hard. Even when it hurts.

She’s about growth. River in LKH isn’t the same woman as in TATM. River in LKH is still finding her way, still healing, still easily manipulated and lost and confused. River in TATM is more assured, more at peace, more able to say to her husband, “You’ve hurt me and it’s not okay” and do you have any idea how MAJOR that is for women? To stand up for our feelings? And how HUGE it is to have a male character who doesn’t argue back? Who doesn’t try to replace the blame? A male character who acknowledges the hurt and tries to fix it?

River Song is about not giving up.

She’s about finding a way out. Always.

She’s about standing up for yourself, taking charge, and not being afraid to be smarter than the smartest guy in the room and do you know how often women are silenced? In the classroom, in the media, in books, on film, women’s voices constantly shut down and River just keeps raising her voice and asking questions and refuses to be ignored.

River is about smart AND sexy. About not being ashamed of your body and sexuality. She doesn’t flirt with the Doctor to get boys hot and bothered and she isn’t a “beautiful, vivacious, intelligent, deadly woman” to fill a sad gap in a sad boy’s life. She’s a beautiful, vivacious, intelligent, deadly woman because she IS all those things and women CAN be all those things and she is also stubborn and impulsive and passive and determined. She’s a liar and she’s reckless and she’s patient and kind and funny and dorky and cruel and understanding and wise and she is a hell of a lot more than that and a hell of a lot more than any sad nerd boy bargained for.

Because she’s not for men.

RIVER SONG IS NOT FOR OR ABOUT MEN.

River is about learning to heal and forgive and love and she teaches girls to be confident and speak their minds and that it’s okay to be flawed and okay to be damaged and that those damages are strengths and those strengths are beautiful and I am so tired of men trying to relegate brilliant female characters to the role of sex object or dream girl because they can’t find another way to say “I don’t like her.”

You think girls look at her and go, “Some day I’m gonna find a husband and do everything for him?” No. They’re looking at her thinking, “I want to jump out of a space ship. I want to carve my messages in a cliff face. I want to walk in and out of prison like the walls aren’t there.”

And that is so, so important I cannot begin to explain how important it is for girls and women of all ages to think to themselves, “I’m gonna walk out of this prison like the walls aren’t here. I’m gonna do it every day. I’m gonna do it until those walls are gone.”

River is an extremely complicated, dynamic character with glories and faults but she is not, is not, is NOT a fantasy.

She’s real. She’s terrifying. And she’s ours.