my will is as strong as yours
Firstly, I've now had Sammy for nearly a month and I just adore him more each day. He's such a sweetheart of a dog.
Secondly, on a totally different note, I've put up an incomplete list of the GLBT movies that I've seen and plan to recommend/review. It is fairly small and useless now, but I have hopes for the future.
Finally, I've been thinking feminist thoughts for a while now, and how my feelings regarding strong female characters bleed over and are the same as my feelings regarding strong male characters, about what defines the relationships that I ship most strongly. And I admire the most the people who don't let their fears stand in the way of what they truly want.
There's a phrase that's been batting around in my head, a phrase from a movie of my childhood, one that made a lasting impact on how I view the world.
My will is as strong as yours, my kingdom as great.
In Labyrinth, Sarah is just a girl -- a not-quite-grown girl with a father she feels disconnected from, a stepmother she hates, an absent mother she idolizes, and a new baby brother that she loves and resents in near equal measure. Jareth is the King of the Goblins. And yet... my will is as strong as yours go the words that Sarah practices at the beginning of the movie and uses in earnest at the end. He has status, power, and possession of the child -- he says all the words that charming men have said over the years -- do as I say and I'll be your slave (as long as you don't notice the bubble I've placed you in, the way I've stunted you from growing) -- and Sarah stares at him and declares that her desire for freedom is just as strong as his desire for control.
My kingdom as great, she says next. Jareth's kingdom is one of magic and darkness -- dangers untold and hardships unnumbered. As Sarah travels through Jareth's kingdom, she manages to co-opt major parts of it -- at first, she tries trickery and fear, as Jareth uses, but then she uses kindness and trust, and it works wonders to win people over to her side, to stand next to her in the end. Jareth has goblins and spells, while Sarah has just herself, but her kingdom is, indeed, as great as his.
The final words that Sarah says to Jareth are the ones that break the spell, give her back her brother, and complete the process of her growth:
You have no power over me.
These are the words that Sarah can't remember at the beginning of the movie, that she only manages to make her own at the end. Because the power that Jareth had, to take the child, was power that Sarah herself had given him, by wishing the child away. Jareth stood before Sarah in all his majesty, offering her a place by his side.
But that peach is poisoned, and the promise would only lead to a life of captivity. Jareth offers her the chance to be a step below him, to be a part of his kingdom -- this, she utterly rejects, knowing finally that she has (and deserves) her own kingdom.
I've always been attracted to coming of age stories, and Labyrinth may well be the genesis of that. Sarah grows up in so many ways over the course of the film, but the thing that she achieves in her confrontation with Jareth is the most important -- that, in the end, people only have over you what power you give them.
We give other people so much power over ourselves -- I know that I do it all the time. I worry about what other people will think of my choices and feelings and thoughts, and I allow those worries to affect the way that I behave. When I do this, I give away my power and place it in other people's hands. When faced with someone actively trying to take away your power, you have several options and millions of complications, but it all boils down to either letting it happen or fighting it. When faced with a world that encourages women, racial minorities, GLBT folk, and those stricken by poverty to leave their power in other people's hands, there are many individual options, but all they equal either letting it happen or fighting it. And I'm tired of not fighting. I'm tired of letting things go to keep the peace. I'm tired of staying at a hold because I'm afraid of losing. I'm tired of fear.
The world is large enough and rich enough that no one on it should be starving or left to want for the basic necessities of life. There's enough. There's always been enough. Money and power are not indications of merit and no one should have to pass a test of any kind in order to be allowed the basics. The human heart should be generous enough to allow people to love each other as they fit. There should be enough room there, too.
I'm still not entirely sure what I want to do about it all yet, but I'm... considering my options. I'm young, still, and my mom calls me optimistic, but I do believe that the human spirit can be kind enough to allow beauty to thrive, no matter what form it takes. Fear holds people back from that and that's a true shame, but I think that it's one that will prove, in the end, to be merely an obstacle and not the end of the line.