Cosmic Heteronormativity in True Grit (contains a serious spoiler)
If you're not familiar with True Grit, the basic plot is this: In 1878, plucky 14-year-old girl named Mattie Ross takes in upon herself to avenge the murder of her father by a farmhand named Tom Chaney. To do this, she negotiates hard with a US Marshal named Reuben "Rooster" Cogburn, and with her sharp wit and determination convinces him to take her out into "Indian Country." Along the way, they team up with a Texas Ranger, LaBeouf, who is also tracking Chaney.
It occurred to me this morning that the very ending of the movie has an embarrassing example of cosmic male privilege and heteronormativity. In the classic confrontation, all of Mattie's protectors are injured and she must take on the villain alone. Given that this is a western, she dispatches justice with a gun and, since she is unfamiliar with the powerful kickback from a lawman's firearm, is knocked over and falls down a cliffside, landing in a pit of vipers. As Rooster and LaBeouf struggle to rescue her, she takes a snakebite to her hand.
Since the story is told from Mattie's point of view, the next 24 hours are a terrible blur of pain and disease, as Rooster rides her horse to death, then carries her the last few miles to a settler's home he knows, where she can receive care. Despite Rooster's heroic efforts, she loses her left arm.
It seems to me that, if Mattie had been a boy, the idea of taking away his arm would have been offensive to the writer and the audience. But doing it to a woman is acceptable: Mattie has taken upon herself a man's job. Her decision to pursue her father's murderer (and not the murder, note), acting against the natural order of her sex, puts her on a course that results in the death of eight men (all of them villains and outlaws, but still men). She deserves her justice, but must be punished for her insolence. In the end, a viper, a veritable act of god, delivers that punishment.
Maiming Mattie, making her almost completely ineligible for a Jane Austen vision of marriage, depriving her of a clear feminine future, is a cosmic balancing of the scales.
Incapacitating Mattie does help the writer escape one more thing: having to write Mattie's reaction to her killing of Tom Chaney. He doesn't have to decide whether or not this normally loquacious young woman is proud of her actions, or regretful, or some mixture of both. He doesn't have to show her (probably repugnant to him) satisfaction at having delivered justice. He doesn't have to write Morgan and LaBeouf's reaction to her reaction.
The book was written in 1969, and the Coen brothers appear to have hewed to the book as closely as they could. I'm glad they didn't change it, but it's still a set piece of its time, and it delivers its verdict: a woman who steps out of bounds in order to get well-deserved justice must still be punished for stepping out.
It occurred to me this morning that the very ending of the movie has an embarrassing example of cosmic male privilege and heteronormativity. In the classic confrontation, all of Mattie's protectors are injured and she must take on the villain alone. Given that this is a western, she dispatches justice with a gun and, since she is unfamiliar with the powerful kickback from a lawman's firearm, is knocked over and falls down a cliffside, landing in a pit of vipers. As Rooster and LaBeouf struggle to rescue her, she takes a snakebite to her hand.
Since the story is told from Mattie's point of view, the next 24 hours are a terrible blur of pain and disease, as Rooster rides her horse to death, then carries her the last few miles to a settler's home he knows, where she can receive care. Despite Rooster's heroic efforts, she loses her left arm.
It seems to me that, if Mattie had been a boy, the idea of taking away his arm would have been offensive to the writer and the audience. But doing it to a woman is acceptable: Mattie has taken upon herself a man's job. Her decision to pursue her father's murderer (and not the murder, note), acting against the natural order of her sex, puts her on a course that results in the death of eight men (all of them villains and outlaws, but still men). She deserves her justice, but must be punished for her insolence. In the end, a viper, a veritable act of god, delivers that punishment.
Maiming Mattie, making her almost completely ineligible for a Jane Austen vision of marriage, depriving her of a clear feminine future, is a cosmic balancing of the scales.
Incapacitating Mattie does help the writer escape one more thing: having to write Mattie's reaction to her killing of Tom Chaney. He doesn't have to decide whether or not this normally loquacious young woman is proud of her actions, or regretful, or some mixture of both. He doesn't have to show her (probably repugnant to him) satisfaction at having delivered justice. He doesn't have to write Morgan and LaBeouf's reaction to her reaction.
The book was written in 1969, and the Coen brothers appear to have hewed to the book as closely as they could. I'm glad they didn't change it, but it's still a set piece of its time, and it delivers its verdict: a woman who steps out of bounds in order to get well-deserved justice must still be punished for stepping out.