This is a cross post from my main blog. While this may not seem relevant to gaming, I think that it is important to consider the way we picture Dwarves in our gaming world. The Fifth Edition D&D Player's Handbook explores this for a moment in its discussion of non-binary notions of sex and gender: "You could also play a female character who presents herself as a man, a man who feels trapped in a female body, or a bearded female dwarf who hates being mistaken for a man" (121). While it is easy to picture all females as beardless versions of their male counterparts, it is important to understand how the beard becomes a symbol of identity for this race and consider the implications of removing it.
William C. Riley
The International Conference on the Fantastic in Art
March 18, 2016
Before
delving into the heavy topics of cultural imperialism and gender norms, I would
like to reflect a moment on J.R.R. Tolkien’s essay “On Fairy-Stories,” where he
shares that he discusses the nature of Fairy-Stories and Secondary Worlds— “Inside
it, what [the story-maker] relates is ‘true’” (Tolkien, The Tolkien Reader 60). And it is this truth, within his Secondary
World, that we should situate ourselves as we consider Tolkien’s Dwarves and
their beards.
From
the Poetic and Prose Edda to Snow White, Dwarves have labored deep in the
earth, carving their way into European folk traditions. Tolkien pulled from these old stories when
shaping Middle-Earth and crafted the prototype for Dwarves that continues to
permeate fantasy literature. Instead of constituting them as simply humans of
smaller stature, Tolkien created a unique race devoid of sexual dimorphism so
common among various creatures in our primary, earthly, world. In “Durin’s
Folk,” Tolkien describes Dwarf-women as “in voice and appearance, and in garb
if they must go on journey, so like Dwarf-men that the eyes and ears of other
people cannot tell them apart” (Tolkien, Lord
of the Rings 360). This lack of sexual dimorphism produces a culture that
challenges our semiotic understanding of beards and presents fantasy authors
rich source material through which they can interrogate Western gender
construction.
Many
fantasy works, unfortunately, have eschewed the opportunities presented by
Tolkien’s prototype, and subordinated Dwarves by framing them into Western
notions of gender. In doing so, Dwarven women in fantasy literature have been
both literally, as seen in the comic Rat
Queens, and metaphorically, in various other works, “shaved” of their
beards. Often, this “shaving” is framed as an act of feminine liberation when,
in fact, it is an example of cultural imperialism, whereby we, as authors and
readers, impose our own understanding and ideals of femininity on this foreign
culture.
Under
the auspices of Tolkien’s belief that fairy-stories should be presented as
true, I will contrast the semiotic understanding of beards in EuroAmerican and
Dwarven cultures. Through the use of ethnographic comparison on the effects of
cultural imperialism on gender construction among non-European, I will also
demonstrate the act of “shaving” the Dwarf-woman’s beard is an attempt to
control and subjugate a race that outwardly appears queer, due to their lack of
phenotypic difference between genders. By critiquing the beardless presentation
of Dwarven women, I am also challenging future works to consider alternative
ways non-hegemonic gender construction might appear in fantasy literature and
to explore the meaning of gender in this unique race.
As
readers and writers, we need to consider our own, human, semiotic understanding
of facial hair and consider how it shapes our reading of beards. As a secondary
sex characteristic, androgenic hair is common in both men and women after
puberty, though its placement will vary between sexes. In considering the
history of beards, physician Allan D. Peterkin points out in his book One Thousand Beards: A Cultural History of
Facial Hair, that the growth of a beard, along with the first shaving of
the face, has been a rite of passage facilitating the transformation from
boyhood to manhood since antiquity (Peterkin 63). At various times in history
Peterkin notes the presence, and absence has been “a much required, enduring
religious, political, and masculine symbol” (130) allowing us to clearly signal
to others our allegiances and even our class standing. The shaving of someone
else’s beard has been a declaration of war (19), as well as a sign of ownership
(21) or defeat (20).
Unlike
men, however, Peterkin notes there has been “no historic edicts, laws, or papal
decrees” governing the growth of female beards (98). Egyptian queens, like
Hatshepsut, would wear “lavish fake beards of gold and silver” (17) during
rituals and celebrations, and our myths and legends contain a select few women
whose beard growth symbolizes “piety, sexual purity, or fidelity” (99). Despite
the lack of formal laws, EuroAmerican culture, shaped by patriarchal
influences, has suggested that female facial hair is unwanted and essentially
non-feminine. Professor Elizabeth Grosz, in her paper “Freaks” points out that
hirsute women have been categorized as freaks and relegated to sideshows to be
ridiculed and mocked for the entertainment of others as a “problematized”
intersection between sexes (Grosz 25).
Unlike
humans, Tolkien, in The War of Jewels,
describes Dwarves as having “beards from the beginning of their lives, male and
female alike” which changes the nature of their connection to their beards.
Instead of being a sign of one biological sex or another, the Dwarven beard
becomes a symbol of their innate Dwarf-ness and a cultural marker that sets
them apart from Man or Elf. In fact, “this strangeness they have that no Man or
Elf has ever seen a beardless Dwarf— unless he were shaven in mockery and would
then be more likely to die of shame than of many hurts that to us would seem
more deadly” (205). While shaving a human may function as an act of symbolic
castration, the removal of a Dwarven beard is an act of hewing their spirit
from their bodies.
It
is difficult, then, to believe that any Dwarf would visit such injury on
themselves willingly. Yet, in the pages of the comic Rat Queens, we find Violet, the beardless Dwarf. When first
encountered, (Rat Queens Vol 1, 12)
it is difficult discern her race. Even when standing upright (14/1) she could
easily pass for a young human female in comparison to her teammates, who are
obviously elven and human, though the illusion of youth passes quickly as she
points out, “We can sit around and bitch or we can make some monsters bleed.
And my sword is hungry for blood” (16/2). Violet’s racial identity is finally
disclosed in passing as the narration “[skips] past the part where Violet sang
a Dwarven forest adventuring song of old” (22/1).
In
a flashback, Wiebe connects Violet to Tolkien’s prototype by providing a full
image of a bearded Violet (Rat Queens
Volume Two 57). In this flashback, after being consigned to model her
father’s armor line instead of being allowed to fight in a tournament, due to
the dictates of tradition (63/3), Violet meets a fellow Dwarf-woman who is
shaved and permitted to fight (66/8 - 68/4), Violet decides to “fuck tradition”
and shears off her beard (74) with her mother’s help (76).
Violet’s
shorn beard works, on terms that follow Dick Hebdige’s work with subculture, as
a “construction of style, in a gesture of defiance or contempt” (Hebdige 3),
but only within the confines of human cultural behavior. Acts of rebellion work
within cultural codes set out by the culture being rebelled against, by
creating norms and permissible avenues of defiance against them. While human
males, whose interest in their beards may wax and wane depending on its
cultural importance in time and place, Dwarven beards are a salient part of
their cultural and racial identity, much like an Elf’s pointed ears. While Wiebe’s
Dwarves may not “die of shame” should their beard be shorn, it is clearly a cultural
marker, as noted by Violet’s mother during the shaving: “I remember when you
first started to grow your beard. It was my proudest moment. The little girl
becoming a woman” (75/5). Its removal is not just a refusal of tradition; it is
also a denial of her racial identification and a rejection of her transition
from girl to womanhood.
Because
of the stigma that would be generated from the act of shaving, it is difficult
to believe Violet would readily remove her beard, much less get assistance from
her mother. By ignoring the social stigma and treating it as no different than
a contemporary adolescent human shaving their head or getting a tattoo, Wiebe
is demonstrating the very EuroAmerican tendency toward cultural imperialism.
Here the author, as representative of the dominant culture, is enforcing his own
cultural norms and deviations on the subordinated, fictive, culture. Among
human women, their choice to shave or leave their androgenic hair is a means by
which they can claim authority over their own bodies, but they do so based on
human cultural norms and expectations. Overlaying this action on a character
from a different culture, albeit a literary one, and ignoring the implication
of the action from their perspective is deeply problematic, as it carries with
it implications that human norms are universal while utterly disregarding those
of Dwarves.
When
examining ethnographic data collect regarding non-EuroAmerican cultures in
post-colonial contact, a similar pattern is seen regarding gender construction
and norms. Prior to first contact, many Native American tribes held cultural
norms regarding both male-bodied and female bodied cross-gender people. In her
book Gender Diversity: Crosscultural
Variations, anthropologist Serena Nanda explains that at contact, Europeans
“were filled with contempt and outrage when they recorded the presence” of cross-gender
member, labeling them as berdache, “a term originally meaning male prostitute.”
(11) By linguistically othering, these Europeans were expressing their disgust
with actions they felt were abominable based on their own culture.
In
truth, cross-gender members of these tribes were not viewed negatively prior to
contact. Nanda explains that “the association between spiritual power and
gender variance occurred in most, if not all, Native American societies,” and
highlights that “recruitment to the role was occasioned by a child’s interest
in occupational activities of the opposite sex, supernatural sanctions,
frequently appearing as visions or dreams, was also involved” (19). European
cultural imperialism and the pressure on Native Americans to assimilate
re-branded cross-gender members as repugnant, though contemporarily Native
Americans are reclaiming their cultural respect towards gender variance and
non-heterosexual members, using the term two spirit to describe them (Nanda
12-3).
With
our expanding exploration on the performative aspects of gender, it is time to
use literature, regardless of genre, to explore its various methods of construction
and interpretation. Tolkien provides fantasy literature and its derivatives with
a unique race by which to do this, though this may not have been his original
intention. Regardless of his intention, however, the lack of sexual dimorphism
in Dwarves allows fantasy authors and readers to reconsider our expectations
that gender and sex are directly linked to secondary sexual characteristics.
An
example of this exploration is presented in the Discworld books written by
Terry Pratchett. In The Fifth Elephant,
Pratchett explains “It wasn’t that Dwarfs weren’t interested in sex [...] it
was simply that they also saw no point in distinguishing between the sexes
anywhere but in private. There was no such thing as a Dwarfish female pronoun
or, once the children were on solids, any such thing as women’s work” (42).
Deriving from Tolkien’s prototype, Pratchett explores the nature of Dwarven
gender norms through the character Cheery, or Cheri, Littlebottom and allows
her to explore and establish how she will perform her gender outside of her Dwarven
home. She was the “first Dwarf in Ankh-Morpork to wear a skirt” and she “retained
her beard and round iron helmet, of course. It was one thing to declare that
you were female, but quite unthinkable to declare that you weren’t a Dwarf”
(43).
While
outwardly, Dwarves may appear queer given their lack of sexual dimorphism, they
present a wonderful opportunity to explore the ways gender may be constructed
and performed. Perhaps, like Pratchett’s, fantasy Dwarves don’t make any clear
distinctions between the sexes in public. Or, perhaps their beards may act as a
symbol of both their race and their gender, presenting authors the ability to
create distinct methods by which different genders might shape, groom, style,
perfume, and decorate their beards. Doing so would allow authors to pay homage
to Tolkien’s prototype while also providing a space to interrogate our
understanding of gender.
Works Cited
Grosz,
Elizabeth. "Freaks." Social
Semiotics 1.2 (1991): 22-38.
Print.
Hebdige,
Dick. Subculture: The Meaning
of Style. London; New York: London; New York : Routledge, 1991. Print.
Nanda,
Serena. Gender Diversity:
Crosscultural Variations. Second edition.. ed. Long Grove, Illinois:
Waveland Press, 2014. Print.
Peterkin,
Allan D. One Thousand Beards:
A Cultural History of Facial Hair. Vancouver: Arsenal Pulp Press, 2001.
Print.
Pratchett,
Terry. The Fifth Elephant: A
Novel of Discworld. Mass Market Paperback Harper, 2014. Print.
Tolkien, J.
R. R. The Return of the King: Being the Third Part of the Lord of the Rings.
Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2001. Print.
--- The
Tolkien Reader, 9th ed. New York: Del Ray Books, 1979. Print.
--- The
War of the Jewels: The Later Silmarillion, Part Two, the Legends of Beleriand.
Ed. Christopher Tolkien. Boston: Boston : Houghton Mifflin, 1994. Print.
Weibe,
Kurtis, J., Roc Upchurch, and Ed Brisson. Rat
Queens Volume One: Sorcery and Sass. Ed. Laura Tavishati. Berkeley, CA:
Image Comics, 2014. Print.
Wiebe,
Kurtis J., and Roc J. Upchurch. Rat
Queens Volume Two: The Far Reaching Tentacles of N'Rygoth. Berkeley, CA:
Image Comics, 2015. Print.
