I don’t believe in fairies, and you better believe I’m not going to clap at any point in this post.

Right! Peter Pan, that age-old story many of us grew up with. Perhaps not with the book, because it’s old and kids are coddled and I don’t want them learning that weird ass British English, anyway (THIS IS A DIRECT QUOTE from someone I once knew), but in other versions, specifically, Disney. I always had a bone to pick with the Disney version, because I missed out when I was a kid and by the time I could have watched it freely at any time, it looked like nothing but a huge company shilling racism to kids under the guise of being a magical adventure about never growing up and fun times in Neverland, where anything can happen! My Peter Pan was Hook, staring Robin Williams and the kid who voices Zuko in Avatar: The Last Airbender as Rufio.

Guys, I loved Rufio. ONE OF MY FIRST CRUSHES, I won’t lie! Hook was a defining part of my sexual awakening and I am not even ashamed to admit it. Even Robin Williams was hot in the green rights, but always, Rufio will have my heart, even though his story is FULL OF TRAGEDY.

I’d Hit It Twice With The Lights On

Who doesn’t know the story of Peter Pan, whisking Wendy, Michael and John away from their parents and loving nanny, Nana? They fly off to Neverland and have adventures with “redskins” and battling with pirates—Hook and his ragtag band of henchmen. They play in the forest and swim in the lagoon, surrounded by mermaids, and make a life for themselves all with the power of make-believe. It sounds awfully pretty, right? Obviously, I should have loved this book, because honestly, it has so many awesome elements! Sword fights and pirates! Yes! It succeeds on being an awesome, fantastical adventure!

For boys.

That’s right! I went there. I am giving Peter Pan, no matter how classic, no matter how well-loved, a great big fucking ZERO on the kick ass female character scorecard. Every time a female character was focused on in this book, I wanted to punt it across the room, through the wall, and into the street to be stomped by tires with shiny spin-rims owned by all the crack dealers that live on my block. I only hesitated because it is a library book and it looks kind of old and probably special. I know! You’re saying “But Renay! This book was written back before we believed girls could do things like fight with swords and do something other than CLEAN and MEND and MAKE MORE BABIES! You should forgive it for being a product of its time.” Well, internets, unfortunately I am going to have to deny that appeal, because I swear this book enraged me, specifically because “of its time” denotes that we are somehow post-sexism. Allow me a moment to laugh maniacally at that suggestion!

Okay!

Let’s recap what the female characters do in this book:

• caretakers: Nana
• mothers: Mrs. Darling, Wendy
• housekeepers: Liza
• angry, jealous harpies: Tinker Bell
• cold and distant savages: Tiger Lily

Yes! If you were like, “Wasn’t Tinker Bell not so much with the impressed over Wendy?” That’s right! If you guessed that Tinker Bell, Wendy and Tiger Lily were all in various phases of lusty desire for Peter’s prepubescent body, you’d be right! If you guessed that Tinker Bell attempts to murder Wendy over her jealousy, you’d be right! If you guess that this murder was followed up with Peter sending Tinker Bell away for, you know, a week, you’d be right! If you guessed that I have heartburn and just swallowed an entire Family Pack of Tums, you’d also be right.

Lost Boys go to Neverland to have adventures and kill redskins, who cart their collected scalps around with them (mmm, delicious racism) and to battle pirates. Wendy (and later, other female characters) go to Neverland to be mothers, to cook and clean and take care of boys who can’t be expected to do it for themselves, after all, they’re boys. I was not impressed! Dude can write a story about a magical island where make-believe becomes real, and yet, the role of the girls is still to do the tidying. Nice! Don’t think I’m being unfair to this idea! It’s still a problem. Feel free to go to a Big Box retailer: Target or Wal-Mart will do, and browse down the toy aisles looking for which toys are marketed to boys and which to girls. Figure out what gender gets dolls. Figure out what gender gets plastic food and tiny fake kitchen sets. Figure out which gender gets legos and Nerf guns. Find out which gender gets awesome robotic toys and Play-Doh. Go on; I’ll wait. It’s pretty easy to tell because toy aisles are fucking color coded. My problem is thus: girls don’t see themselves in the world of Peter Pan as anything other than the maid or someone who is only good for popping out kids and raising them and once that’s done, well, whatever. Case in point, a quote from the end of the book, concerning Mr. and Mrs. Darling:

It was Jane’s nursery now, for her father has bought it as the three per cents from Wendy’s father, who was no longer fond of stairs. Mrs. Darling was now dead and forgotten.

Forgotten! That’s right. Direct quote. Ding dong, the uterus is dead, I believe is what we call that. Not only dead, which would be fine, but forgotten as well. You know your worth now, ladies, courtesy of J.M. Barrie.

Even as children, we’re asking girls to do the heavy lifting to imagine themselves in a scenario where while they’re reading a story, someone like them will never, ever appear in a role that’s not completely gendered. Yeah, that’s some award-winning children’s literature right there! This isn’t even touching the depressing racism, because I’m afraid if I start unpacking it I’ll be set myself on fire from rage. Is this even discussed when this book is promoted? Do adults even think about how it looks that girls inhabit these roles and only these roles, that the book promotes the idea that boys shouldn’t have to learn how to tend themselves, but instead always rely on someone with a vagina? Tinker Bell’s stereotypical harpy behavior is explained away in cute fairies only have room for one emotion at a time fashion, but really. Talk about some lousy justification for some really gross sexism, Barrie! If you weren’t already dead and rotted I’d send you a stern letter and you would write it off, you know, because I’m a girl and I should probably be washing your underwear right now or something useful.

It’s hard for me to come down from my geyser of froth to be, what’s it they call it—objective? about this book. The truth is, it’s not a bad story, or a bad fantasy, the world-building is fun and besides the problems with the feminine and characters other than white people, it’s not bad! I mean, that’s faint praise from a book dealing with the divide between childhood and adulthood in such an interesting way. There’s also the debate of making children’s books political, which I know is unpopular, because dude, having discussions about race and sexism is somehow Just Not Done with kids because they might Be Scarred For Life (teeeeh childreeens!!!!!).

I would like this book much better if it didn’t blow huge chunks of fail concerning the role of girls in make-believe, and the Disney version, which is probably the first version that kids see, doesn’t help matters, as it keeps everything deplorable about the book intact.

If I ever have kids, they’ll either be super progressive or hate my guts for flailing about sexism all the time and rambling about teaspoons.