By Carla Lee
After the release of Dungeons & Dragons 4th Edition, I joined a gaming group for the summer. I play a female fighter in part because the rules for fighters seemed simpler than some of the others – as the only player who had never played D&D, I thought I needed some sort of edge – and because I like to fight. I have a type when it comes to the characters I roleplay; they are always female, and they are always proficient with some sort of weapon.
We picked up a second female fighter early in the game. She was a little standoffish – only to be expected when she was tied up, blindfolded, and gagged before we found her, and there was debate about whether we should untie her – and then there was a joke about her chastity belt because she didn’t fawn all over the male characters.
Almost right away, the other characters (and/or the other players, because it’s not always so easy to tell if they’re speaking in character or out with this group) cast her has the man-hating lesbian fighter. Suddenly she had a backstory forced upon her by characters and/or players who were mostly male – she’d been mistreated by men – raped by men – and now she couldn’t stand them.
The player, a woman, gave up that character as soon as we completed that adventure. She rolled up a new character, also female, but made this one friendlier, more outgoing – sexier. She fights from a distance instead of up close. She rarely gets hit. She doesn’t have a backstory filled with gendered-violence, not provided by the player nor by assumption from the male characters/players.
We started the game with my female fighter and a female paladin which was also a tank character, built for up close combat and healing. The other female fighter was added early. We also had a male warlord who is a decent fighter but much better at standing back and guiding the battle.
All the fighters have been sexualized in some way or another except for mine.
As far as I know, none of us had an explicitly sexualized background. In the beginning, none of us played our characters as explicitly sexualized people. It was the preconceived notions of the players which influenced the way the characters are presented. The man-hating lesbian fighter. The male warlord who is just fabulous and is therefore fashionable, frilly, and bisexual. The female paladin who is teased about being in a sexual relationship with another male character. The male warlord plays pranks on the paladin and the male character which involve putting them in naughty positions in bed.
And I sit there, with my non-sexual female fighter, and fume.
I play her pretty straightforward. When setting up her backstory, I kept it simple, because I knew if I gave myself too much free rein, I’d write a novel about her. Her story can be summed up with few words: Descended from a long line of female fighters, she’s set out to build her reputation and earn a place with her family. Everything she does is about getting the job done well and openly so people know who she is. In battle, she doesn’t think through everything. She doesn’t know where best to place the mages, and in the beginning, she wasn’t really sure how to fight well with a group. She’s learned her lessons well, and listens when the warlord makes suggestions. She’s still prone to hit first when the monsters appear, but she holds back a little. She wants to recruit more female fighters, and is thrilled when the first female fighter rejoins their group (as an NPC) later.
I wonder, if I explained my character’s background, if they would make the same jokes about her. I wonder if I explained my personal background, if they would make those jokes at all. They don’t know about sexual history or my sexual preferences. They don’t need to know; this isn’t a group of friends coming together to game. This is a group of people who, for the most part, are spending one summer working at the same company. Each of us is here for approximately twelve weeks, and those weeks don’t all overlap. Most of them don’t know much beyond my name, my position at the company, and my character.
That doesn’t excuse the assumptions of gendered violence, or the assignment of sexual preferences and activity.
Recently, I was handed the man-hating lesbian fighter to play for our final three sessions. We’re fighting multiple dragons in the lead-up to the final boss character. Our characters need all the help they can get.
After playing her for one session, I’m sad that the original player gave her up. She’s an effective fighter, and does incredible amounts of damage. She is, of course, equipped by the DM to help in the final ongoing battles, but she would have been an interesting and useful addition in all the previous adventures.
I don’t find playing the sexualized fighter any different from the non-sexualized fighter. I refuse to acknowledge a forced backstory full of gendered violence. The only time her forced sexualization came up was when I was first given her character sheet and one of the other players asked why her original player wasn’t taking her back. Our DM said he had randomly drawn names, but he was sure the original player was happy not to have her back.
“After all,” I said, and frowned, “she gave her up for a reason.”
Chastity belts and man-hating lesbian jokes get old fast.
Article © August 2008 by Carla Lee.
This month at Cerise, our theme is “Fight Like a Girl,” and we’re focusing on women and fighting games of all kinds with articles and reviews, including a new series by Anastasia Salter which will examine older computer games in an attempt to create a gaming canon. We also have a reflective Gamer Story from Carla Lee, and a couple of great interviews for you this month.
