Doing weights...
Jul. 20th, 2003 07:57 amToday is a weight-training day and I'm about to head off to the fitness club once I've had breakfast.
When I started doing weights I had a pleasant fantasy that Bruce Wayne was there watching me, helping me train. He would occasionally correct me if I made an error, and though he isn't a man for verbal encouragement or effusive praise, he would occasionally grunt approval. Dark, intense, observant eyes.
See, Bruce Wayne (or Batman) represents a lot of things to me in an archetypal way. He represents determination towards a goal; self-discipline; intelligence applied to observation; and high standards. I aspire to all of this.
Since last Sunday a new fantasy has crept into my weight-training. Bruce Wayne is still there as acting trainer, but so is Jack Sparrow. He isn't nearly so controlled. He lounges around the machines, drinking rum and ogling the beautiful bodies - he'd probably ogle the fantasy Bruce Wayne if I let him. He laughs at me for all my hard boring work when when I could be lounging on a beach with a bottle. He teases me (with an appreciative glint in the eye, and a smirk).
And dammit, I work all the harder just to show him.
Rather like Will Turner would, come to think of it.
I know I am both Bruce Wayne and Jack Sparrow. I have done my best to make an art of hedonism, but I want to make an art of self-discipline as well.
Have you ever read Janet Evanovitch's novels? One of the reasons I love them is that the protagonist, bounty hunter Stephanie Plum, has sexual fantasies about Batman. I can relate to that. The idea makes me smile. I thought I was the only one. (No, really I knew better. I've been around fandom long enough.)
Still.... I've always wondered why the comic book producers persisted in seeing superhero comics as fantasy for exclusively boys and young men. Don't they see the potential for fantasies for women? Apparently not.