If I were a written woman....

In terms of literature, I have a few carefully-chosen female antagonists with whom I identify myself. In short, I have "Lit Heroes" (or, in this case, "Lit Heroines.")

Lux Lisbon from Eugenides' The Virgin Suicides: Although the novel more or less represents nothing more than exaggerated teenage angst, it also discloses the very dark downward spiral of a girl's complete detachment from her surroundings and her moral (as well as mortal) deterioration. I fell in love with Lux's blatantly apathetic promiscuity; the outward expression of her lack of concern for her environment. She escapes a world of repression through sex, though she remains aloof from all of her partners, finding herself "picking at the pimples on their backs" during intercourse. Her stoic autonomy and superficial use of sex is beautiful.


Denver from Morrison's Beloved: I identify with dear Denver without the sensation of admiration or ambition that I feel for the the other women listed here. In an exaggerated sense, she reminds me of my own childhood; her loneliness and isolation is the embellished perception of my own experience with my mother. She is intelligent, observant and kind-hearted and, most beautifully, preserves, throughout the novel, an unbending sense of responsibility toward her unaware mother. She emerges as a caregiver, while her mother succombs to dependence. She represents the heartbreak of my childhood.


Brett Ashley from Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises: Although the novel's protagonist is Jake (whom I also love, for different reasons), Brett serves as the focal point simply because she is the obsession of many of the characters. She has an unapologetic and blatant sexual prowess about her, and she emotionlessly pursues affairs with nearly every man she meets. The essence of her attractiveness is that she is undeniably modern - sporting a man's haircut and masculine language - and yet, upon first impression, floats on femininity. She can pursue any man she chooses, and yet she returns to Jake for support- through his unyielding love for her, he serves as her rock and confidante. To him alone, she expresses intense misery and unhappiness with her lifestyle. She is beautifully capricious and eternally biding her time for a satisfaction that she will never encounter.


Dominique Francon from Rand's The Fountainhead: Dominique is one of the most brilliantly beautiful characters I have ever encountered in literature. She leads a life being perceived as successful and beautiful, while on the inside she churns with a dedication against love and beauty. Dominique recognizes man’s capacity for achievement; because she reveres man at his highest and best, she necessarily loathes most members of the human race, who fall below man’s potential. Overwhelmed with cynicism, she surrounds herself with the things she despises to avoid watching the world destroy the things she loves. Dispassionate, bitter, and cold, Dominique nurses a masochistic streak; although she loves Howard Roark and his beliefs, she initially tries to destroy him before the rest of the world can. Eventually, to punish herself for her character, she marries a man with whom she is not in love merely to stand as a woman superior to the notion of affection. She falls desperately in love with very few things in life, but instead of embracing them, she obsesses over instigating their downfall. She is the epitome of self-directed hatred and a self-fulfilling prophecy, destroying things before they can be taken from her. And yet she stands as an icon of beauty. I love her for this.