Gender in YA: Should the Bechdel Rule Apply in Kid Lit & YA?

Last week, David Elzey (@d_elzey) over at Fomagrams posted some interesting thoughts on the Bechdel test, wondering how and if the test applied to YA and kid lit, and if commenters could list examples of books that pass and books that fail. (Head on over to Fomagrams for some interesting comment discussion, too.)

What is the Bechdel Rule?

Even if the name is unfamiliar, you’ve probably heard of the Bechdel test, more often called the Bechdel rule. It’s usually talked about in conjunction with television and/or movies, but the principle could hold true for literature, too. To borrow from David:

The Bechdel Test originated in the comic strip Dykes to Watch Out For by Allison Bechdel.  The “joke” in one particular strip from back in 1985 was that a character only watched movies if they met the following requirements:

1. It has to have at least two women in it,
2. Who talk to each other,
3. About something besides a man

There is a corollary point that says the female characters must also have names.

In a 2008 interview with NPR, creator Alison Bechdel said she was glad the rule was getting so much play (see this io9 post about SF & the Bechdel rule for more interesting linkage):

Yeah, I’m very glad people are talking about the “Bechdel Rule,” even though I’m a little ambivalent about that name. When I talked to the NPR reporter, I suggested changing it to “Ripley’s Rule,” after the Sigourney Weaver character in “Alien.” Since at the time of the rule’s inception, that was the only movie that fit its criteria. But she didn’t use that part of the interview.

It’s funny to me that it’s getting so much play all of a sudden. For me, the Rule is kind of like feminism in a bottle—applied theory, quick and easy. I think whatever name one gives it, the rule should be applied to everything everywhere, including real life.

Applying Bechdel Rule in YA & Kid Lit

Working out where and how the rule applies in YA and kid lit is difficult, because there are so many distinct audiences. Generally speaking, girls will read boy books, with boy protagonists (Harry Potter, Percy Jackson and the Olympians), while boys won’t read girl books, with girl protagonists (The Goose Girl, Howl’s Moving Castle). YA and kid lit are also more distinctly broken into age groups than their adult counterparts, and have looser definitions of genres. That said, I think most contemporary kid lit does an excellent job of passing the Bechdel test, arguably more so than any other age group or genre.

Why the Bechdel Rule works–or should work–in Kid Lit

What exactly do I mean by kid lit? I’m talking about the books kids read themselves, past picture book level and beginning with books in the same vein as Nancy Krulik’s Katie Kazoo, Switcheroo, Barbara Park’s Junie B. Jones, to middle grade (MG) and the lower end of YA (Tamora Pierce’s Circle of Magic series, Emily Rodda’s Rowan of Rin series). Wondering why no picture books? Because most children reading picture books aren’t up to grasping as many ideas or subplots yet, making it harder to have more than one important character.

For the most part, kid lit and MG books fit nicely with the Bechdel rule because their readers aren’t up to discussing boys and riding the he-likes-me/he-doesn’t-like-me carousel. Most girl-centric books aren’t up to the envy/frenemy characters either–girls might have a boy or girl best friend, and a boy or girl nemesis, but the books rarely combine both (though Rebecca Stead’s When You Reach Me is an excellent example of both done well).

What about boy-centric kid lit, like HP, or Rowan of Rin? In my (albeit limited) experience, more modern novels have two or three girl characters who aren’t simply there to be rescued. Hermione’s cleverness practically leaps off the page; in the first Rowan book, the girls (or teens) are tough, and although their fears eventually overcome them, fear overcomes the male characters (with the exception of Rowan, of course, who learns to work through his) as well.

And if there’s only one girl (or worse, no girls) in a boy-centric book? I’ve spent the past few days thinking about this. At first, I didn’t think it mattered, because middle grade reading boys probably aren’t interested in girls, so there’s not really an issue. Yet the more I’ve thought about it, the more I realize my earlier response is wrong.

Should the rule apply, if the target audience is boys? Yes. Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. Kids learn through reading–they learn the way the world works, how to think about things, how to move past fears and so much more. If we present a world without girls, or with only token girls, it sends a message that this is how the world works, and that girls don’t matter.

What About the Bechdel in YA? Does it still apply? Should it?

To me, applying the Bechdel rule in YA is an exercise in frustration. Like most things in YA literature, nothing is clear cut about gender in YA. Half the books I’ve picked up since thinking about this meet the requirements easily. Others are borderline. Others fail miserably. Rereading my own work in progress, I can see how it could scrape by, scrape being the operative word.

The difficulty for me lies in not whether the Bechdel rule is important and applicable, but whether it’s always important and applicable. If a book is a slice-of-life story, or a genre-specific (insofar as YA is ever genre-specific) work, the rule should probably apply. But what if it’s a problem novel, a story addressing specific issues? From memory, Joyce Carol Oates’ Sexy doesn’t pass; neither does Stephen Chobsky’s The Perks of Being a Wallflower. But both books are about boys with specific issues, on isolation and working through problems. If a wallflower rarely speaks to girls in real life, should we really force girls into the book so it can pass a test?

One argument is yes, a la the reasons I listed for kid lit: token girls/no girls sends a message that girls don’t matter. Worse, in YA, where girls do talk about boys, we risk sending the message that boys are all girls do–and should–care about. But YA audiences are different to kid lit and MG audiences. They’re more sophisticated, they’ve read more, they interact with adults on a more even level. The majority of YA readers should be able to understand the difference between style and genre, and see that a book like Wallflower doesn’t pass the test for a good reason, rather than because Chobsky didn’t feel like writing in conversations between girls.

And then there’s the opposite side of the coin, the reverse Bechdel. How many girl-centric books have two guys having a conversation about something other than a girl? In Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew, the male characters discuss women exclusively–if the bard can’t beat a reverse Bechdel, should we mere mortals even try? Or is a reverse test moot, because the issue is feminism, rather than equal representation?

As an issue of gender equality, things get even more confusing with books like Sarah Dessen’s This Lullaby, Laurie Halse Anderson’s Wintergirls*, or Jay Asher’s Thirteen Reasons Why. These novels–along with many others–focus on two main characters, one girl, one boy. If the sexes are evenly represented, and can talk about something other than their respective love interests (regardless of whether they’re coupled up or not), do we need the Bechdel test? If a girl walks up to a guy and asks him about his favorite book, isn’t that as much a win as a girl discussing favorite books with another girl? If a boy walks up to a girl and starts asking about her music preferences or her iPod playlist rather than who she came with or if she likes him, isn’t that a positive thing, regardless of whether there are other girls around? Gender equality is about, well, equality. If a boy and a girl in literature–moreover, in real life–can interact on an even playing field without sex/attraction/gender issues entering into it, then the Bechdel rule loses some of its power, doesn’t it?

Of course, my view could be biased. My own WIP is about an isolated teen boy, and the female characters rarely interact, because said boy’s life is segmented, a necessary part of the story. As a card-carrying feminist, knowing I don’t quite meet Bechdel’s criteria bothers me, and I could be trying to justify myself and my story–and it feels good to throw my lot in with some of the greats, like Joyce Carol Oates and Dianna Wynne Jones (her latest, Enchanted Glass, fails too, though many of her other books pass with flying colors).

Do your books pass the Bechdel test? Fail it? Why? Does it bother you? Do you think the test should apply in YA?

*I know I list Wintergirls a lot–I love the book, and I’ve learned a lot from it. If you haven’t read it, go to a bookstore, pick up a coffee, and settle down to read over a cup of tea–now.

Image Credit: A boy, a girl, and a book, by Mexikids