Part Two: Whither The Fangirl?

Regular Threshold readers, understandably, could be under the impression that, prior to receiving that first e-mail from Wendy I believed that there was no such thing as a fangirl.
Indeed, I spoke of them as myths, or urban legends.
Use of such language was, of course, intended for comic effect. I used hyperbole to illustrate the point that, in contrast to their male counterparts, female comic book fans were, and are, something of a rare breed.
As a geographically and socially isolated young fanboy I scarcely knew any male fans, so I certainly didn’t know any female fans.
Honestly, I never really met a girl who’d read comics at all until after I’d graduated from high school.
Still, I was aware, at least intellectually, that there were some fangirls out there thanks to the letter pages of various comics.
But as mentioned, most comics were targeted at boys. Anything aimed at girls was a specialty (and therefore lower-selling) book that could not enjoy widespread mainstream appeal.
Indeed, by the time I was reading comics the romance comics of old had been long-dead.
And deservedly so; I’ve read some romance comics and they were utter garbage.
Admittedly, I say this from a 21st Century perspective and with 21st Century sensibilities, but that being said, they sucked ass. They were condescending, offensive, insulting, and just plain boring.
Certainly, to be slightly more charitable to the genre, there was no way that it could keep up with changing cultural mores and attitudes, and so whatever popularity romance comics enjoyed had waned over time.
Not being driven by the same sort of testosterone-fueled fantasies that allowed super-hero comics to resonate with boys, without romance comics the pickings for girls were rather slim.
There was Wonder Woman, of course, who was created by William Moulton Marston for the explicit purpose of providing a role model for girls, and there were other female characters who, at the very least, appeared in back-up features such as Supergirl and Lois Lane (who had her own title, which was often as offensive as the romance comics, for some time before being relegated to back-up status), but in general, with the exception of the oft-mentioned (here on Threshold at least) She-Devil with a Sword, girls were a demographic that was not being actively pursued.
Even the titles that featured female leads, though, tended to be aimed at the standard target audience.
Still, amongst the largely ignored female portion of the population there were an enterprising few who were able to find some resonance within the existing boy-centric titles.
In my experience, again, based on letter pages, those fangirls tended to gravitate towards the “team” books, such as “X-Men,” “Legion of Super-Heroes,” and “The New Teen Titans.”
What was the appeal of team books for fangirls? I’m throwing out guesses here, but for one thing, most teams tended to include at least one female character (with many, many more than that in “Legion.”). For another, the focus of team books tended to be a little less on action and a little more on characterization, and frequently the conflict in team books had little or nothing to do with the villain of the month.
A particular focus of most team books was the relationships between members of the team, with not all relationships being friendly. “X-Men,” for example, had the Cyclops/Marvel Girl/Wolverine love triangle, while “Titans” had Kid Flash’s unrequited love for Raven, and in “Legion” there were all kinds of assignations, weddings, and affairs.
For want of a better term, team books tended to have something of a “soap opera” element to them, carrying some of the components of the defunct romance genre into the super-hero milieu.
Beyond that, though, the fact that there were multiple characters, and personalities, to choose from in a team book allowed for greater opportunity to find someone to identify with. In “Superman,” who was there for a girl to identify with if she couldn’t identify with the Man of Steel? Lois? Lana? Maybe, but their lives tended to revolve around their rivalry with each other over Superman’s affections, and despite whatever redeeming values they may have had, they weren’t the stars of the book, and their adventures, therefore, tended to be a lot less super.
Team books, though, had characters that had to share the spotlight, each of which was a hero in his or her own right. With many characters to choose from (particularly in “Legion”) there was bound to be someone, whether female or male, that girls could identify with to some extent.
On the topic of identification, while he has many flaws as a writer, Chris Claremont’s run on “X-Men” is a significant one in the history of comics, not only for its duration and the incredible popularity that the series enjoyed under his direction, but for his ability to create characters that resonated with significant portions of the comic-reading public.
One of the most popular characters was one Kitty Pryde, a young woman with the ability to walk through walls.
Kitty was a big hit with girls everywhere (and with this particular fanboy) because she was so easy to identify with. While she was an utter fantasy, Kitty was very firmly grounded in reality. Even with her super powers and her genius IQ, Kitty still had all of the insecurities of the average teenage girl, including elements such as having a crush on her older teammate, Colossus, and feeling self-consciousness about her appearance.
Her ability to overcome her fears and not only get through daily life but to also realize her potential as a hero and save the world, though, made her someone whose problems girls could identify with, and whose potential they could aspire toward.
In that regard, arguably, Claremont was more successful than Marston, though Kitty has yet to achieve the kind of longevity, or fame, enjoyed by WW.
So far I’ve only been addressing mainstream comics, the kind that could be picked up at the local corner store. I’m not touching on independent or creator-owned series, such as Wendy and Richard Pini’s Elfquest, or Harvey Pekar’s American Splendor, books which did not follow the traditional super-hero formula, or traditional distribution methods, thereby generating a very different fan base from mainstream titles.
But with that point, I’ll wrap this section up, as it will serve as a segue to the next part of our exploration of female fandom.