"Neurotypical savior" part 2
Oct. 23rd, 2017 11:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rainwatersparkPreviously, I talked about "neurotypical savior"-type characters in the context in which being around the NT savior causes the mentally ill (MI) character's symptoms to improve. This time, I want to talk about "NT savior" characters in the sense that the NT savior, even without being told that the MI character is mentally ill, always knows exactly what to do to make the MI character feel comfortable, and this causes the MI character to fall in love with them.
First, some clarification: While I generally don't like this trope (for the reasons I'll explain below), it could work if the NT character happens to be a psychiatrist/psychologist, and/or has had prior personal experience with mental illness. But only in these circumstances.
Why do I not like this trope? Because it's unrealistic.
Part of a "savior" narrative—which you can see very clearly in a book like Antisocial by Heidi Cullinan, in the context of asexuality (the allosexual love interest literally has a voice in his head telling him how to act around his asexual love interest, even though the ace character has never brought up the idea that he might be ace to him)—is the idea that the "savior" is a perfect, gold-star ally. And, I don't think non-marginalized people understand why this idea makes marginalized people uncomfortable. Not only is it unrealistic, because there are some -phobias/-isms that are so deeply ingrained that not even the nicest ally will understand them intuitively, but to me, it also feels like a way for allies to not feel bad about themselves, by insinuating that a "real" ally will "intuitively" know these things and therefore doesn't have to do the hard work of messing up, getting called out, and learning from it.
To be clear: I'm NOT saying that I want to read a book that is mired in -phobic/-ist attitudes that the non-marginalized love interest bombards the marginalized love interest with before they learn better. That's also not the right way to go about it, because it treats the marginalized character as merely a learning opportunity for the non-marginalized character to "become a better person." But, there IS a middle ground that exists.
For example: Marginalized character tells non-marginalized love interest about their marginalization. Non-marginalized character listens and asks questions to better understand. There may be some misunderstandings as the non-marginalized character learns to live with their love interest's marginalization, but the characters can always talk things through and resolve the issues.
This is the best way to handle it, in my opinion. But, sadly, it's not that common. Partly because of the reasons I mentioned above, and partly because a lot (a LOT) of romance books thrive on drama due to lack of communication.
To bring things back to the context of mental illness: It's not realistic to me to read a book in which an NT character, without knowing their love interest has a MI, somehow still acts and behaves to perfectly accommodate the MI character. Again, unless they have a background in psychology, most people are quite bad at recognizing the symptoms of mental illness/past trauma. (This isn't necessarily even a criticism; it's just a fact.) Also, most NT people, including many self-identified nice people, do not like being around people they deem to be "weird" or "unstable" if they have no idea there is a context for that behavior, and mental illness definitely often makes MI people seem "weird" or "unstable"; plus, because of ableism, MI people are often extremely reluctant to disclose their mental illness.
These are not things that an author can reasonably ignore if they want to convince me of a deep love between a NT and MI character without making me think "NT savior!" Especially if the two characters come to a mutual agreement to just not talk about things they don't want to talk about—in that case, there should be a LOT of misunderstandings and abrasive conflicts. No one has an intuitive understanding of mental illness (not even MI people themselves, oftentimes).
Just...I really need realism in this context.
First, some clarification: While I generally don't like this trope (for the reasons I'll explain below), it could work if the NT character happens to be a psychiatrist/psychologist, and/or has had prior personal experience with mental illness. But only in these circumstances.
Why do I not like this trope? Because it's unrealistic.
Part of a "savior" narrative—which you can see very clearly in a book like Antisocial by Heidi Cullinan, in the context of asexuality (the allosexual love interest literally has a voice in his head telling him how to act around his asexual love interest, even though the ace character has never brought up the idea that he might be ace to him)—is the idea that the "savior" is a perfect, gold-star ally. And, I don't think non-marginalized people understand why this idea makes marginalized people uncomfortable. Not only is it unrealistic, because there are some -phobias/-isms that are so deeply ingrained that not even the nicest ally will understand them intuitively, but to me, it also feels like a way for allies to not feel bad about themselves, by insinuating that a "real" ally will "intuitively" know these things and therefore doesn't have to do the hard work of messing up, getting called out, and learning from it.
To be clear: I'm NOT saying that I want to read a book that is mired in -phobic/-ist attitudes that the non-marginalized love interest bombards the marginalized love interest with before they learn better. That's also not the right way to go about it, because it treats the marginalized character as merely a learning opportunity for the non-marginalized character to "become a better person." But, there IS a middle ground that exists.
For example: Marginalized character tells non-marginalized love interest about their marginalization. Non-marginalized character listens and asks questions to better understand. There may be some misunderstandings as the non-marginalized character learns to live with their love interest's marginalization, but the characters can always talk things through and resolve the issues.
This is the best way to handle it, in my opinion. But, sadly, it's not that common. Partly because of the reasons I mentioned above, and partly because a lot (a LOT) of romance books thrive on drama due to lack of communication.
To bring things back to the context of mental illness: It's not realistic to me to read a book in which an NT character, without knowing their love interest has a MI, somehow still acts and behaves to perfectly accommodate the MI character. Again, unless they have a background in psychology, most people are quite bad at recognizing the symptoms of mental illness/past trauma. (This isn't necessarily even a criticism; it's just a fact.) Also, most NT people, including many self-identified nice people, do not like being around people they deem to be "weird" or "unstable" if they have no idea there is a context for that behavior, and mental illness definitely often makes MI people seem "weird" or "unstable"; plus, because of ableism, MI people are often extremely reluctant to disclose their mental illness.
These are not things that an author can reasonably ignore if they want to convince me of a deep love between a NT and MI character without making me think "NT savior!" Especially if the two characters come to a mutual agreement to just not talk about things they don't want to talk about—in that case, there should be a LOT of misunderstandings and abrasive conflicts. No one has an intuitive understanding of mental illness (not even MI people themselves, oftentimes).
Just...I really need realism in this context.
