Noah Berlatsky

For once, central character Andrew's flaws are tied up in the fact that he is—wait for it—fundamentally decent.

Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald, Edith Piaf: they're all still practically household names.

The cover for A-Force is a combination of tired trope and deodorant ad. Female empowerment can do so much better.

The loss of gospel history has meant forgetting how important black women have been to American performance styles.

Their sexuality traps and destroys male innocence, as they grad hold, by the penis- the better to lead him to castration. Make no mistake that castration is greeted with fear, terror, and disgust—but also with glee. Women as super villains allow their characters to be super powerful; a force for evil is at least a force. In a media landscape where women are often rendered secondary, invisible, and passive, the femme fatale, in her icy violence, seizes female agency along with the phallus that she so efficiently cuts off.

There's a good argument to be made that the earliest, and the best, rockabilly performers were women. Slicked-back, hiccuping, hopped up cool.

Genre boundaries are conscious of race—and, in the case of rock, conscious of gender too.

C.S. Lewis' classic book presents an unlikely challenge to the patriarchy in the form of its true hero, Lucy.

It's not the gender that's the problem: It's the oppression.

While Atwood's feminist dystopia remains our favorite nightmarish future, Marge Piercy's Woman On The Edge Of Time is far superior.