Am I Really a Manic Pixie Dream Girl?
There’s a recognized trope within contemporary media that has hooked me throughout my late teens and early twenties: the Manic Pixie Dream Girl (MPDG). She, simply put, is a manifestation of male desire, borne from a patriarchal society, made material through the women embodying them. She is me.
When I say she is me, I’m not trying to say that I am a manifestation of male desire. It’s more so a recognition of how I fall into this trope—I understand how elements of it play into my life: my love of whimsy, my general ‘quirkiness,’ and the fact that the men I typically attract are lonely, artsy men who are astounded by my passion towards life. The term’s connection to my life, however, has led me to wonder whether I have accidentally made myself one-dimensional or if the traits of the label are simply characteristics of my personality that I obtained on my own. I’d like to say that I haven’t one-dimensionalized myself, but at the same time I’m aware that denial is powerful—even if I say I haven’t, I could just be ignoring the truth.
I don’t think I’m the only woman who’s experienced this sort of inner-conflict, wondering if their identities are their own or manifestations of male desire built overtime, especially living in the compulsory-heterosexual world we do. The following is both for those women and my own peace of mind, first outlining the definition of MPDG from the original source, then processing the ways in which this trope is, but is not, us.
Manic Pixie Dream Girl’s Rise in Popular Culture
The MPDG trope first came about in 2007, coined by Nathan Rabin in his review on Elizabethtown (2005). He describes MPDG as nothing more than a fictionalized being created to please men: “The Manic Pixie Dream Girl exists solely in the fevered imaginations of sensitive writer-directors to teach broodingly soulful young men to embrace life and its infinite mysteries and adventures.” At some point after his film review was published, the phrase took off in mainstream media.
The general understanding of MPDGs were as follows: they love spontaneity and adventure (Zooey Deschanel as Allison in Yes Man (2008)); they are free-spirited, most usually signified by their dyed hair (Mary Elizabeth Winstead as Ramona Flowers in Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (2010)); incredibly bubbly and/or positive to the point where it seems ethereal (Kirsten Dunst as Claire Colburn in Elizabethtown); creative with vast imaginations (Kate Winslet as Clementine Kruczynski in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)); and overall have a general ‘quirkiness’ that they can ‘get away with’ due to their beauty (Natalie Portman as Sam in Garden State (2004)).
Seven years later, Rabin was horrified with the way popular culture latched onto this one-dimensional lens of women. He clarified in a 2014 article, “the trope of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl is a fundamentally sexist one, since it makes women seem less like autonomous, independent entities than appealing props to help mopey, sad white men self-actualize.” The main position of his later piece appeared to be that Rabin recognized a MPDG can be a real, human woman. In some regards, she is an entirely autonomous woman who could exist in the same fashion, with or without their male counterparts; in others, a fictional construct of male fantasy. It depends on the iteration and it depends on the man (if it is a man) telling the story.
Manic Pixie Dream Girls: One-Dimensionalizing Women in Fiction and Reality
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind appears to address the issue of women, especially those who appear to be a MPDG, being seen as one-dimensional within the fictional universes they reside. For the first half of the film, Clementine seems to be a MPDG whose presence was only there to further the plot for the male protagonist; and I spent a majority of the movie watching it, and her, incredibly critically. I only realized my mistake when she said the following: “I’m not a concept. Too many guys think I’m a concept or I complete them or I’m going to ‘make them alive’…but I’m just a fucked up girl who’s looking for my own peace of mind. Don’t assign me yours.” I felt bad—imagine if someone took a look at my life and assumed me as an MPDG, existing as nothing more than a projection of male fantasy to serve men.
I think of my experience watching Clementine like the attribution of the MPDG label on a majority of Zooey Deschanel’s career, as well as her person—qualities of the trope may be found in her characters, or her own personality, but she denies being the trope for herself and her characters. Deschanel explains she isn’t offended by the term itself, but finds that “it’s a way of making a woman one-dimensional.” In the same vein, I take issue with the idea of being seen as such because, like Deschanel and the characters she defends, “I’m not one-dimensional.” I have dreams and goals, ambition and drive, outside of men and my relationships.
I’m sure all the fictionalized female characters in the aforementioned parentheticals are capable of having their own autonomous identity, if the film and television worlds allowed us to see past the male gaze. Ramona Flowers, for example: the entire film centers around Scott Pilgrim (played by Michael Cera) trying to grapple that she had a life before him, with defeating her ‘7 Evil Exes’ seemingly serving as an allegory for retroactive jealousy. Summer, as well (to defend a Deschanel character): (500) Days of Summer literally opens with the idea that “[it] is not a love story,” and ends with Summer living her own life apart from the male protagonist. I know for a fact, if I was a movie character, my ‘MPDG traits’ were due to experiences within my individual life.
My love of spontaneity and adventure comes from the fact I hate sitting around bored and feeling like a boring person. I’m free-spirited, or at least I’m trying to be, as I feel I conformed too much as a teenager and am trying to establish my own identity in my twenties. I’ve dyed my hair either because I had a specific look I was going for or I thought the colour was pretty. I’m overly positive towards others, for the most part, because I like making people smile—whenever someone else is bubbly I get happy, so I try to act the same for others in general. My creativity and imagination are products of my only child syndrome—playing by yourself throughout childhood makes you really good at entertaining yourself. And I do believe I get away with saying or doing vaguely strange (mainly just annoying) things just because the person I’m talking to thinks I’m pretty. If I were doing all this to impress a guy, however, presenting myself as someone I’m not or changing my personality, then I would be a one-dimensional MPDG.
In a sense, I am MPDG, if only for the directly aforementioned reasons. I do recognize how parts of my being mirroring MPDG’s defining characteristics could cause another, who doesn’t truly see me as an autonomous person, to place the one-dimensional label on me; however, I am a human being with agency. I have my own identity and I make my own decisions—most importantly, for myself.
To truly be ‘The MPDG,’ the one first described by Rabin in 2007, all of your actions and your entire personality would be shaped towards fulfilling the fantasies and desires of boring, lonely men. Your entire goal would be to attract them, ‘fix’ them, then leave them as ‘the one who got away.’ Your life would revolve around a specific subset of men and their attraction towards you. You’re not The MPDG if your actions are products of your agency as a human being. If you make decisions for yourself, you may share traits with MPDGs, but you have your own sense of self and identity. You are your own person.