Somehow, the anniversary of Carrie Fisher’s death, December 27th, slipped past me. It’s hard to believe that she’s been gone almost 10 years. But then that would be how Carrie would want it.
No movie-star, (that was her mother, Debbie Reynolds) nor especially attention-seeking, (her father, Eddie Fisher’s kink, not hers) Carrie went into the family business with the enthusiasm of a latent introvert. In truth, she often said that if she knew the fame that would come with her role as the iconic Princess Leia Organa, she would’ve gone in the opposite direction.
More comfortable in support than spotlight
If that seems like BS, consider that her supporting roles far exceed her lead roles. For that matter, her writing credits exceed her leading roles. Further, you need to read Carrie’s writing to know that she had a low-tolerance for Hollywood’s games.
That bedrock candor might be her greatest appeal. More than her looks, her wit, (both meanings of the word) stood out like a nova among lesser stars. That sharp intellect and cutting delivery cut through a lot of BS.
Smallest one in the room, makes the most noise
My sister took me to see Star Wars when I was 8 years old. I did not want to go. I preferred television where you could change the channel, get a snack, or take a bathroom break at will.
Plus, at that point, I had been to two movies. My first foray was For the Love of Benji, (where a dog was kicked and I lost my sh—tuff). Then, Bambi, (if you know, you know). Still, I idolized my sister and if she wanted to go to the movies, to the movies we went. But, yeah, less than thrilled.
Then John Williams’ score blasted over the speakers followed by that opening crawl—reading in movies was new to me and I loved it. By the time I saw the Tantive IV, (Princess Leia’s spaceship) rocket across the screen I was fully hooked. And then the funniest thing happened.
After we meet our big-bad, (Darth Vader) we meet the most unlikely hero ever, Princess Leia, (Carrie Fisher, duh). In the first five minutes, this short chick with ridiculous hair gets into a gun fight, gets shot, and then gets mouthy with the 7-foot-tall-walking nightmare. Seriously.
“...you and the space station you rode in on…” -Princess Leia, if written by Carrie Fisher
Leia takes no sh—tuff and gives no fu—oolishness. Even after they throw her in the brig, even after they torture her, Leia proceeds to tell Grand Moff Tarkin, (Peter Cushing) off. She is not stinting with her opinion of her so-called “saviors,” either. That’s a bad girl.
Yeah, yeah, the bikini.
Sure, Star Wars creator George Lucas, (et al) “softened” Leia up in the sequels. He also completely betrayed the character in the final installment. Still, Carrie’s intellect and cutting wit elevated Leia above stock, damsel/love interest/objectification character. There was no dimming her shine.
Carrie spoke and wrote of the sexualization/objectification she endured. She also took her agency back from the men who attempted to lock her down, put a leash on her neck, and a muzzle on her mouth.
When asked about the action figure of Leia in the bikini, collar, and leash—and whether the action figure should be discontinued, Carrie replied, “I think that’s stupid. The father who flipped out about it, ‘What am I going to tell my kid about why she (Leia) is in that outfit?’ Tell them a giant slug captured me and forced me tot wear that stupid outfit, and then I killed him because I didn’t like it.”
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| Eff'd around and found out |
That’s who Leia was to me. Not a romantic (or sexual) object. Leia was that one cool girl in the neighborhood who liked Star Wars, knew the lore, and played right along with the boys.
Maybe it was because I was only 8 years old when I “met” Leia. Yet, I felt the same way at 13—around the same time Pam Grier carbonated my hormones, (different story, different time). I felt the same way through every Leia story in the extended universe. I feel the same way now.
As a result, I fell right in with Chris Claremont’s depictions of women in the X-Men comics and later with Frank Herbert’s fremen and Bene Gesserit in Dune. Like Leia, Storm and Lady Jessica, (among hundreds of others) had their goals, fears, and histories, independent of the men. None of them needed men to rescue them.
POV matters
And no one had to explain “agency” to me. Carrie Fisher had demonstrated it. It still makes me laugh when I read/hear a “strong” woman/women descriptive. Or, when women are rendered with their own agenda, are somehow heroic, (or evil, you know, whatevs…). While men doing the same bit are referred to as “Carl,” or “Bob.” I imagine Carrie rolling her eyes.
The women in my stories are strongly influenced by Leia. Not all of them are as smart or capable. A few have her courage. Many of them have Leia’s (Carrie’s) biting wit But none of them are set pieces for manly-male motivation, romance, or rescue.
Nevaeh Bailey, my drug dealer-turned heister, has Leia/Carrie’s tenacity and a good deal of her family baggage. Leticia Ruiz, my banker-turned money launderer has Leia/Carrie’s pragmatism and predilection for the worst men. Neither are sitting on a shelf, waiting for a man’s story to intersect with theirs.
Killing their own dragons and dragging them home
Carrie, through roles and written work, continues to shape my ideas of writing women. And her voice is one of the guides in my head when I write women characters. I strive for the immediacy in Carrie’s acting and the honesty of her prose.
Both are lean and to the point. If you haven't, you should read Postcards from the Edge, Surrender the Pink, and Wishful Drinking. Aside from the writing gold of a confident woman writing her truth, all three are FUNNY. You've seen/heard her dialogue in movies like Sister Act and Leathal Weapon 3, ironically enough, Carrie specialized in women’s dialogue.
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| As in writing, so in life, or something... |
Yet this idea, of reading women writers, extends beyond Carrie Fisher. It’s no secret that many men write women very badly, while most women write male characters with considerable validity born of years in study of male authors. Guys can and should do better. No matter your genre, you will find a woman killing it and by reading those women, you will improve your writing.
To say I’ve been a Star Wars fan ever since is a huge understatement. The only love affair that comes close to my love of Star Wars is my love of reading. And that is where my love for Carrie Fisher truly blooms—in print. If all you know of her is her acting, you truly haven’t seen her best side. Trust and believe.
Carrie Frances Fisher died in 2016 at the age of 60. She graced the screen in 95 productions, left us with four novels, four non-fiction works, and untold ministrations as a script doctor. It was nowhere near enough time nor enough of her insight. Thanks, for the laughs, Carrie and for teaching us new ways to play the game.
