She-Ra and the curse of the land

My original plan was to write a review comparing two Netflix animated fantasy series about warrior princesses that came out during the same time period: Disenchanted and She-Ra. The gesture in itself is already important enough: the setting known as "high fantasy" has been a bastion to conservative imaginations of an idealized past, excusing its imprecision and ignorance to construct an impossible primitive male hero. Surely, there have been numerous exceptions going against the stream, but the figure of the female heroine is finally taking the full spotlight, decentralizing the mainstream of this genre. On the other hand, the personal quest, friendship and transformation also seem to assimilate some of the anime genre of the magical girl. This is why I had high expectations of this entire movement taking place.

However, I must confess I was somewhat disappointed by the first season of She-Ra. I was probably overinterpreting things. But since in previous cases I have learned that doubt is productive, I take the second season as an occasion for throwing my questions out there and pushing to a more polemic discussion of it.

What I did enjoy the most was the emotional dramas of the characters, the tortured motherhood of

Shadow Weaver and the romantic triangle between Adora, Catra and Scorpia. This takes us to the aspect of diversity, clearly one of the series' main focuses, not only in the form of intense same-sex romances or unapologetic rainbow unicorns, but also on the entire redesign of the characters which made the oldschool fanbase get upset.

All of the characters from the old series have almost unitary measures, the same height, skin color and the same body mass. As is known, this responds on the one hand to the industrial production of the toys that motivated the series in the first place. On the other hand, the skin color could have been changed more easily. What makes it relevant is that this also adds into the long history of unified, idealized body politics of modern Western thought, strictly centralized on a single form of what can be healthy and athletic. There is only one norm, and anything moving away from it is beneath it. Now, look at the new character designs. Each of them has a size, shape and color of its own. Not two of them are alike, but all of them act as heroes and companions in the story. It shows how much our culture has changed in the last few decades.

As nice as this is, it is not relevant to the plot of the series. The central conflict revolves around the war between the Horde and the Warrior Princesses. What do these represent, beneath the first coat of paint? Though the manners of the Horde are somewhat rougher, effectively there are lovable characters and queer fantasies on both sides. The question is, what are they fighting for?

Adora's first turning point offers one version of it. She works for a system which she was born into, unaware that her efforts actually lead to the destruction of innocents. She wakes up to refuse this war and changes sides as an act of rebellion. Though the show implies great diversity, the main heroine remains the blond barbie girl. I've even heard people complaining about it, but to me it made sense in a particular way.

Adora now joins the princesses - but who are they? Certainly not rebels, as they call themselves. The end of the first season explains more clearly that they are a resistance, even a reactionary front, trying to restore their old monarchist power. They may be more merciful than the horde on the battlefield, but they are certainly not selfless.

The connection of king and land is an classic trope of knightly romance, and a myth that supports the feudal system. It is interesting enough that this connection in She-Ra is not depicted as a natural given, but a work of the First Ones. Aliens decided to instate a ruling caste, bound by blood to keep the order they devised, and deliberately bound the planet to this caste's power. It is not only the people, but the entire ecosystem of Etheria, that is hopelessly submitted to an alien colonist, without the least possibility of taking part in their fates.

If She-Ra is part of the magical girl genre, I can't help but think of one of my favorite classics, treating this trope in a much more critical way. Magic Knight Rayearth shows the princess as doomed to sacrifice her love to serve her land. Emeraude's rebellion endangers the planet, turning her into a tragic heroine who brings about her own destruction to save others. The heroines clearly acknowledge the absurdity of this system and spend the second season working to undo it and liberating the people, both politically and emotionally.

She-Ra's rebel princesses instead defend the structures imposed onto them by ancient aliens. The only one trying to fight it was Mara, the previous She-Ra. However, she is said to have failed disastrously. Mara's fault is not to have attacked the ancient order. It would rather be to have failed to completely undo it.

How does the Horde, then, stand towards these structures? Hordak is an alien, too. But in his ranks, social mobility is possible, based on the merits his minions bring to his cause. In this perspective, the authoritarian party appears to have somewhat more democratic structures than the feudal restorationists. They are the actual rebels, even the bloody, but maybe necessary revolution.

The series is still very open-ended, and there are many things that might change everything. After writing this down, I also understand that the enjoyment of the series depends on a narrower view. It is Adora's personal way, her friendships, dramas and fabulous transformations.