Why I Love True Blood’s Sookie Stackhouse
For starters, she's the natural heir to Buffy’s feminist throne.
BY MEG MASSEY
[Spoiler alert!]
Last night I spent an hour in the crazy, campy, supernatural-ridden backwoods Louisiana world of HBO’s True Blood. Over the course of that single hour, a voodoo priestess was brutally murdered, a magic woman let us know just how she feels about towels, a vampire made smoothies out of synthetic blood, and a flamboyant chef/call-boy/drug dealer was chained to a medieval torture wheel. In the midst of it all? A twenty-five-year-old telepathic waitress named Sookie Stackhouse, the show’s protagonist.
With every minute I spend with Sookie (played by Anna Paquin), I become more and more psyched to have discovered her. Did the last waitress you saw on TV read minds, decapitate serial killers, and take up a vampire lover? There’s something pretty fucking fantastic about a woman who turns over the stereotype about girls being wide-eyed and stupid by having a brainy talent that lets her understand a hell of a lot more than the rest of the world.
Fantasy worlds—in this case, a world where vampires have made their existence public, alongside telepaths, shapeshifters, and whatever the hell Maryann is—have always been a great place to challenge social stereotypes (Star Trek, anyone?). True Blood continues this proud tradition: female protagonist with a supernatural gift (in this case, mind-reading) who uses said gift as well as her own resourcefulness to put the bad guys in their place and undermine those who say she should be at home baking pies.
Female TV leads by themselves are rare. The ones we usually see are of the ditzy reality-show contestant variety, there for laughs as they stumble through the pronunciation of two-syllable words or display the emotional aptitude of a snail. Women in leading roles who dare to be a little bit complicated (and unwilling to sleep with Bret Michaels, Flava Flav, or an 83-year-old man) have been scarce since The West Wing, Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Alias went off the air. Joss Whedon, Buffy’s creator, complained a few years ago about how often he gets asked why he creates so many female leads. Like many of us, he wants to know why most screenwriters are fixated on white dudes.
Brought to life by Six Feet Under mastermind Alan Ball, Sookie is the natural heir to Buffy’s feminist throne. In the series’ first episode, Sookie rescues a vampire named Bill Compton (Stephen Moyer) from a pair of redneck would-be vampire “drainers” by choking one and threatening the other with a knife. It contrasts nicely with everybody in Bon Temps writing Sookie off as a crazy, vulnerable young woman who needs to rest her silly little head and stay away from the big-boy stuff. She continually refuses with gusto, from calling out the town gossip who thinks she can’t live by herself to undermining the condescending “vampire sheriff” by using her telepathy to inform him that his bar is about to be raided. What are you going to do when the cute telepathic lady kicks your misogyny out from underneath you? (More on this in my latest posts)
The books that True Blood is based on—Charlaine Harris’ 10-book "Southern Vampire Mysteries"—are every bit as honest, campy and thrilling as the series. Harris’ Sookie and Paquin’s Sookie both value their independence above all else. They enjoy Bill (and sex with Bill), but not to the point of allowing him complete control. They’re fierce and not squeamish. They outsmart the world that assumes they’re stupid by using their (telepathically-enhanced) brains. They have honest-to-goodness adventures.
True Blood thoroughly enjoys being over-the-top, including an occasionally gratuitous amount of sex and violence. Yet Sookie navigates the twelve kinds of crazy she finds and allows it to reveal her complexities rather than pigeonhole her. She reacts with shock and tears upon discovering the murdered body of her beloved Gran, but can still spend the night alone and clean up the killer’s mess. She’s naturally nervous about the unknowns that come with Bill and his vampire world, but ultimately initiates their sexual relationship. Bill and Sookie’s sexytime, by the way, is not only deliciously frequent after the initial go-round, but healthy and respectful.
In fact, like many good couples, their relationship is defined by how they simultaneously protect and challenge each other, though the context is a little different when your boyfriend is a bloodthirsty vampire trying desperately to “mainstream.” Bill is happy to be on hand for physical protection as Sookie tries to hunt down the serial killer, but Sookie also protects Bill from the “vampire-phobic” people in her town, warning him of a mob hunt via voicemail and “re-burying” him when he goes out in the daylight to save her and instead starts smoldering (and not sparkling. I’m looking at you, Twilight).
There’s also something Sookie does that very few female characters are allowed to do successfully: She stands up to Bill when he attempts to control her or decide what’s best for her. In a lot of TV shows and films, the message is that women always, always need to turn over their independence for male protection. (Once again I look at you, Twilight.) With Sookie and Bill, it’s quite the opposite. For instance, though Sookie hardly mourns her pedophile uncle, she’s not happy when she figures out that Bill is responsible for his death: “How can I confide in you if somebody might end up dead?” Translation: Why did you decide without me what’s best for me? Why don’t you trust me to decide for myself?
Of course, True Blood is not a Gloria Steinem polemic. Most of Sookie’s dresses appear to come from Gap Kids, given their size, and though relatively equitable and healthy, Bill and Sookie’s relationship loves the melodramatic (exhibit A: their fight about trust issues and subsequent make-up sex at the end of last night's season two premiere). However, the skimpy wardrobes and soap opera theatrics are part of the show’s campy appeal. And what other show on television has a 25 year old woman: beheading a serial killer; beaming with pride as she talks about sex without being portrayed as slutty or doomed; telling her boyfriend she can take care of herself and meaning it?
You get the picture. Long live Sookie!
—Meg is a writer and media strategist in Washington, D.C. She likes coffee, the outdoors, The Beatles and, of course, ridiculous vampire novels. Check out her blog ms. mam.
According to The Huffington Post, “The fear of condom wrappers clogging our landfills and birth control hormones afflicting our waterways has caused many to reassess their options in the quest for the most eco-friendly birth control.” As if it isn’t bad enough that we feel a little like Osama bin Laden every time we buy a bottle of SmartWater (hey, sometimes a girl needs extra electrolytes)—now we’re forced to imagine a wasteland of used condoms every time we reach for a rubber? Dead fishies every time we pop our pills? Great. Super.