Holly Batty’s analysis of Harry Potter primarily demonstrates that the main character of the book presents a fluid, posthumanist identity. Nevertheless, her reflections on animal metamorphoses in J. K. Rowling’s bestseller also shed light on people’s fascination for (fictional) protagonists who have non-human powers and, in particular, for those who are able to simultaneously have human and animal characteristics. Indeed, readers of fantasy novels seem to be eager to discover the adventures of characters who are able to transform and to overcome their limitations through their ability to mutate and to go through alternative embodied experiences, usually while preserving human intellectual capacities, such as reason and language (one can think of the range of animalistic super-heroes: Batman, Spiderman, Catwoman, etc.).

I believe that our strong interest for creatures who are both human and (non-human) animal, or for humans who are able to (temporarily) transform themselves into animals, unfolds from a deep connection that we feel between terrestrial, embodied species and, perhaps, from the muffled awareness that we are not in fact superior to animals, since we are aware that we do lack some skills they exclusively possess. As a matter of fact, we are a certain kind of animal ourselves and, therefore, it is not surprising that we do feel close to other animals: we share an embodied presence in the world, a sentient nature, and an experience of space and time. For instance, non-human animals are, just like us, mortals, that are subjected to finitude. Given our shared existential fragility, it is not far-fetched to assume that animals are confronted with some of the issues and anxieties humans face: they, too, have notions of time and space, experience pleasure and pain, age, fear for their lives, feel and care for others, etc. Our embodied experience of the world, that is our fragile, sentient, and mortal bodies, are the common grounds which explain why we can relate to them, try to become like them, empathize with their pain or pleasure, or even envy some of their physical abilities we lack.

As humans, we can hence understand and relate to other animals’ experiences and behaviors, even though we often read them through analogies with our own abilities and limitations. But these parallels we draw precisely prove that we feel close enough to them to find comparisons relevant. Indeed, we use categories that describe human attitudes to qualify animals: for instance, we see lions as “strong” and “fierce”, sloth as “lazy,” etc. Besides, this perhaps suggests that the heuristic and empathic value of anthropomorphism could be reassessed as a means of making us relate to and empathize with animals.

Moreover, we have also extensively used animals to describe our own world through fictions, myths and fables (from Aesop’s Fables and Ovid’s metamorphic poems to Orwell’s Animal Farm, through Jean de La Fontaine’s highly politicized bestiary). This literary trope emphasizes that we actually feel close enough to animals, and that we think they resemble us enough so that they can convincingly convey messages about social life. Indeed, this means that we are empathic enough with them that we can care about stories in which they play the lead roles.

Regardless of the impossible transformation of a human being into an animal in the real world, the implementation of this possibility in our imagination through fictions prompts us to reflect on our own animality. However, because we are highly intelligent creatures, it does not seem so far fetched nor out of reach to try to develop some animal abilities that we’d like to acquire. Indeed, many of the technological breakthroughs we have achieved over our history were inspired by animal abilities we wished to acquire (our planes are our way to fly, our boats our way to swim, our shoes our way to move swiftly on uneven grounds, our clothes our protective “furs”, our knives compensate for lack of sharper teeth, etc.). Similarly, we often challenge ourselves to emulate some of animals’ most impressive skills: running for long periods, swimming fast, or climbing trees, For instance, it is common today to see people trying to increase their competence to free dive, thus staying in the water without specific equipment for a great amount of time. Some free divers, such as Tom Sietas or Stig Severinsen, dive as deep as 250 meters while holding their breath for more than 20 minutes. This kind of feat can be seen as the result of a desire to experience other forms of embodiment, that of marine animals in this case, whose abilities inspire such challenging human practices.

Therefore, the creation of fictif creatures that have the ability to be both human annimals invites the reader to re evaluate the premise that, as a human being, he is utterly supperior to an animal. Perhaps, from the existence of those fictif creatures, the readers call into question the hyrachique order they have created, which is solely based on the values that are essentiel according to their perception.

Work cited

Batty, Holly. 2015. Harry Potter and the (Post)human Animal Body. Bookbird: A Journal of International Children’s Literature 53(1):24-37.

Orwell, George. Animal Farm (Signet Classics). New York: Signet Classics, 2004. Print.

The introduction of What Gender Is, What Gender Does unveils how the binary classification of gender, as male and female, is highly reductive. It is a normalized and normative polarity which, in spite of its specious self-evidence, is far too simplistic and rigid to account for each individual’s idiosyncratic, perpetually changing and multi-faceted gender identity. If Judith Roof acknowledges that, “binary gender appears as natural, preexistent, and necessary”, it is only to stress that gender is commonly thought of as organically tied to one’s sexual organs. However, the author underscores that this persisting commonplace conception of gender overlooks the nuances and complexities that gender positioning actually encompasses, as well as the processual nature of gendering. In reality, even if one’s gender can often be read according to the dichotomy of male and female, masculine and feminine, it is always much more complex, diverse, heterogeneous, flexible and slippery than this binary paradigm suggests. Not only do these dual archetypes (male/female) fail to designate the complex process of gendering, they also have normalizing and prescriptive effects on people’s identities and behaviors since they reify two specific categories (of a much broader spectrum of gender possibilities) in which people are expected to fit.

Roof’s analyses invited me to ponder on why it is so hard to reevaluate what we conceive as gender and the elements that we associate to it. Why can’t we easily call into question our definition of gender? Why does binary gender seem so natural and incontestable? Perhaps what’s most striking to me is our tendency to tie people’s identities to their gender. Indeed, I find it strange that gender is seen as such an extremely prominent facet of one’s identity, as one of the key elements that supposedly determines one’s personality even though gender is not thought of in strict terms of physiology anymore and is rather tied to one’s social status. In other words, gender is now understood as a set of social characteristics as much as a set of biological ones. In our current societies, most of us expect people’s tastes, states of mind, behaviors, bodies, and ideas to correspond to a certain gender, as we have traditionally attributed certain qualities and certain flaws respectively to males and to females. But, why is our perception of gender so limited and so polarized if we acknowledge that being born a woman or a man does not necessarily determine our behaviors, desires, ambitions etc.? Why do we respond so easily to the social construct that is binary gender?

Even though we’re growing more and more aware of the over-simplistic and hence inappropriate nature of binary gender, we somehow cling to it: instead of abolishing gender as a binary social product, we try to invent nuances that ultimately confine ourselves to the dichotomous conception of gender. For instance, a man who does not conform to the masculine stereotype is likely to be labeled “effeminate”, which is a way to explain his gender position by simply understanding it through the other polarity of binary gender. Similarly, a girl whose behavior does not correspond to the social standard of femininity and who manifests “masculine” interests might be called a “tomboy”, thereby read as pertaining to the other polarity to the one she is expected to. The mere fact that we have incorporated words such as “tomboy” or “effeminate” in our vocabulary clearly proves that our gender is not tied to our sex but also suggests that we have failed to think of gender identities outside of the binary paradigm, as a position on a spectrum instead of as a box ticked in a two-option survey.

Moreover, the intricacy of defining and naming gender identities emanates from the fact that the relation of individuals to their gender constantly evolves. Nevertheless, even though we are, somehow, aware that gender identities are immutable, set in stone, we stubbornly perceive as weird the ones who do not fit into their sex category and who are hence marginalized.

It is arguable that the pressure to enforce binary gender largely stems from businesses and advertising, which play out binary gender narratives and imagery to target certaindifferent audiences and to sell more products (businesses would lose profits if a whole family or the two persons of a couple were sharing the same clothes, accessories, devices, and thereby consuming less). Indeed, most products are designed to attract either a male or a female consumer. But it is actually surprising that “gender neutral” products are so rare. Why do men and women need different moisturizing cream to moisturize their skin? Shouldn’t the product just be targeted for the various types of skin (oily or dry for instance)? Instead of debunking and rejecting this trend, we unconsciously tend to embrace it. For instance, how many mothers would be likely to worry and even seek medical or paramedical help if their 5-year-old boy seems to enjoy playing with Barbies, dressing and brushing doll, or putting make up on? I think we’re barely starting to realize and acknowledge the normalizing and prescriptive strength of binary gender because these cultural norms are so prevalent and so insidiously naturalized that we can hardly see them for what they are, social constructs that also often are social constraints which we should call into question in order to emancipate ourselves and not to have to conform ourselves to prescribed identities.

Work cited

Roof, Judith. 2016. “Introduction,” in What Gender Is, What Gender Does, pp. 1-35. Minneapolis and London: University of Minnesota Press.