Kelly Sue DeConnick Explores Gender Dyanmics and Defiance on Bitch Planet
Conspiracies, nightmarish prisons, and a totalitarian state: welcome to Bitch Planet, a new ongoing series written by Kelly Sue DeConnick. The tale begins on an Earth saturated with media displays and surveillance devices before shifting to a ship full of women docking on the titular prison planet. After creating the genre-bending Western fantasy Pretty Deadly, DeConnick’s new venture deconstructs grind-house exploitation and gender dynamics with insight and style. With the first issue launching on Wednesday, Paste chatted with DeConnick about her new comic’s creation, her collaboration with artist Valentine De Landro and the virtues of raising a willful daughter.
Paste: Where did the idea for Bitch Planet come from — the combination of the prison setting within a totalitarian future?
Kelly Sue DeConnick: It started with the idea of wanting to do a women-in-prison story, and wanting it to be in space, and working backwards to make that make sense. I had intended for the book to be much sillier than it is. I had in mind something kind of camp, and I think I missed that mark. When it came to the writing, there’s a certain part of it that’s just intuitive, and there’s no way to explain it, other than to say that it feels right or it feels wrong. There’s nothing less funny than trying to force funny. I had these gags in mind that I was planning to use, and they felt really false and really forced. Ultimately, I decided not to do that.
Paste: The way that the word “compliant” is used, and takes on these incredible sinister connotations throughout the first issue…when did you arrive on that?
DeConnick: Everyone who works in the medical field hates me for that choice, by the way. Apparently, non-compliant patients are nothing you want to cheer for. I don’t remember making that decision. This is a thing I see with my daughter. My daughter is a very spirited 4-year-old girl. And with my daughter more than with my son — when my son is, let’s say spirited, it tends to be, “Boys do that; that’s boys.” And it’s chuckled at, if not encouraged. And when my daughter has initiative or is disagreeable or has a different idea about how she wants to do things, she’s a pain in the ass. She’s a troublemaker. She needs to smile and act nice and not disrupt the system. And I want so badly to protect this. The thing about my daughter that I most treasure right now: Tallulah does not give a fuck if you like her. I am so proud of her for that. And I know that there are parents that that will horrify. Please understand that we have a saying in our home, that you don’t have to be nice, but you must be kind. And what we’re trying to emphasize is you don’t have to be compliant; you don’t have to just go along with the way of things.
The compliancy idea is that it’s more important to me that women contribute and bring their whole selves to our culture than it is… I don’t care if they’re helpmeets or pretty or docile. I’m a fan of pretty; I like pretty. I like pretty in all things, but if that’s not who you are… The character of Penny — Penny doesn’t care if she offends your eye. Penny kind of wants to offend your eye, because then she knows you see her. And it’s Penny’s “How dare you judge me.” I’m about as subtle as a sledgehammer, but it feels good. We’re all enjoying working on this book, and we’re all building characters that feel real to us, and that we care about. And hopefully we make it an exciting and entertaining story, too.
Paste: In the first issue, you do have the two guys monitoring the prison and acting as a kind of chorus, though not a particularly sympathetic one…
DeConnick: There’s certainly some humor. Their names are Gene and Schiti, and — have you read Pretty Deadly? They’re sort of the anti-Bones Bunny and Butterfly. They’re a chorus, a narrative assist, but they are not, at this point anyway, anybody you’d want to cheer for. They’re not the trusted and warm, wise spirits that…the bunny is, anyway.
Paste: I hadn’t seen that parallel, but now that you say it, I can absolutely see it. Is it coincidence that both of these books are coming out around the same time, where you have these very different sets of characters commenting on the action?
DeConnick: It wasn’t intentional, but once I read it as a whole, I immediately saw it. I think there was a certain amount of disappointment on my part when I sat down and read the completed Bitch Planet, as much as I love it and I’m proud of it. And I’m very proud of Pretty Deadly as well. I was a little disappointed to see my fingerprints as clearly as I saw them, if that makes sense.
Paste: How far along have you written it? Are there places where that device might be adjusted in different ways for each book?
DeConnick: Oh yeah. Only in the fact that there are these watchers is it similar. The characters are very different, and the way that they relate to the main story is very different. Let’s be generous and say that I’ve made a stylistic choice rather than saying that I have a narrative crutch, where, in both cases, there are these watchers that allow me to comment on the action.
Paste: If you have something set in a prison, having people in an observation role is almost innate to the setting.
DeConnick: Yes. And you’ll see that more in the second issue — the lack of privacy, that they’re encroached upon from every angle. There’s a splash that makes that very literal.
Paste: Where did you and artist Valentine De Landro first encounter each other?
DeConnick: I was walking about Fan Expo a number of years ago, and Valentine had a table set up. There’s a thing that’s happening less and less now that there are so many women at conventions, but there was a time when you could see artists behind their tables looking through you. If they were selling pages or looking to make connections for work, they would look through you for where the wallet was, or where the more important person was. Val stood up and shook my hand and showed me his portfolio and made no assumptions about who I was or what I might be interested in. He treated me immediately as a potential colleague. And at that time, nobody knew me. He didn’t have to do that. And I was so used to the opposite of that, from people who did know me. I was used to people making the assumption that I kept my husband’s calendar or whatever. It was incredibly refreshing; it meant a lot to me to be treated like a professional.