Rants and Ramblings: random commentary about culture, media, politics, technology and whatnot.

detective drew

When I was younger, I was a huge fan of Nancy Drew mystery novels (more the circa-1980s/90s paperbacks, although I did read a good number of the classic yellow-spined hardcover novels … and let’s not forget the ultra-suspenseful “super mysteries” where she teamed up with the Hardy Boys), enthusiastically devouring each new adventure within hours of its purchase. She was smart, independent and seemingly infinitely capable, but, to me at least, in a way that was cool rather than annoyingly too-perfect.

In a recent essay on Salon.com, Priya Jain muses about the enduring influence of Ms. Drew, and how the classic mystery heroine stacks up against her more modern incarnation. (“The mystery of a feminist icon” - 02/01/05)

More than likability, the old Nancy was good for us, too. Rereading my old books now, the tacit suggestion of her character — and the reason, I suspect, she has endured for so long as a role model — is that she was a modern woman who figured out how to have it all. Nancy successfully juggled social life, romance and the problems of the world, and she looked pretty doing it. She could cook (and even had her own recipe book), and her pumps always matched her stylish dress. But she also climbed fences, wriggled through air ducts, and performed other hair-mussing feats in order to escape the bad guys. She could, in short, do everything a boy could and still maintain her femininity.

(The new) Nancy might be easier to live up to, but it’s hard to imagine that she’ll ever stand for something in the lives of the girls reading her now. As Meghan O’Rourke pointed out in a New Yorker essay last November, “children’s-book publishing has become more sensitive to psychological ‘issues,’ and Nancy’s quick-footed efficiency is now thought to be intimidating for young readers.” But the fact that she has lasted in the hearts of women for so long poses the question of why that should be. Maybe we can’t be everything — a well-dressed professional, master cook, ultimate girlfriend, independent woman — but do we really want to give up trying? …

The old Nancy Drew was too perfect, and she never would have thrived in the real world, whether it be the 1930s or 2005. But she made us hope for a utopian life of professional challenges and fulfilling personal relationships, and she provided a vision for what that life might look like. It’s perfectly fine that other children’s characters offer us the chance to empathize and feel that we’re not alone in our childhood traumas, but that was never Nancy’s function, and it shouldn’t be now. She doesn’t say, “It’s OK you’re a mess”; she says, “You can be better.” And without her to urge this next generation of girls toward the ideals of feminism, we are certainly the poorer.