I realised last night what the ultimate work of fiction is. The work by which all other films, books and tv series should be measured to see whether their female characters are real people or simply eye candy accessories to the male characters.
Halo Jones.
Halo Jones, for those unfamiliar with her Ballad, was a character whose exploits were serialised in
2000AD. When I first read it, I didn't realise that
all the main characters are female.
Book One of Halo Jones tells of her life in a futuristic distopian ghetto, where she shares an apartment with a woman named Brinna, and hangs out with a woman called Rodice and a young female friend called Ludy. Oh, and there's a robot dog called Toby, but that's as close to a main male character as you get.
Book Two tells of Halo's journey on a space-liner, where she works as a waitress. She shares a cabin with a woman called Toy, and a transperson called Glyph (Glyph is neither male nor female). There are some male characters, but they're largely in the background, apart from one Very Important character who is male - but also twelve years old!
Book Three tells of a washed-up Halo joining Toy in an all-female platoon in an interplanetary equivalent of the Vietnam War. Again, when I first read it, the gender of the characters didn't register with me. All the soldiers, including the hierarchy, are female, with one exception, who is Halo's lover.
The thing is, it works. It's utterly believable. All the characters are primarily people, and the fact that they are women is a secondary characteristic. It's a real tragedy that only three out of the nine books were ever completed, and that no-one's yet made a film of it.
Halo Jones: Where did she go? Everywhere! What did she do? Everything!
