On the subject of the word “bitch”:
I am one of those who tries to convince those around her that “bitch” is not an acceptable word to use when not speaking of literal female dogs (or, I guess, in a clear ironical sense). As a derogative, it’s a sexist term that exists to belittle people based on [either: femininity or membership of ‘the female gender’].

I find it hard to deny that it isn’t a word with its own special, nuanced meaning though. I mean, I do deny it, I encourage people to say “spiteful” or “vindictive” instead, since that’s the closest I can get to how I’ve encountered the word used viciously. But like I say - it’s the closest I can get. It isn’t the exact same. “Bitch” has its own definition/s because if it didn’t, we wouldn’t have used it so widely.
I’m thinking about this because the other week I was considering my favourite character from one of my favourite book series. I was thinking about her in terms of blog post, because that’s a useful thought exercise, and I was letting my mind run ahead of me loosely and lightly describing her character at the start of the trilogy as opposed to at the ending; I caught myself running out bitch. Descriptive.
The character is Malta Vestrit, of Robin Hobb’s Liveship Trilogy. Which is fantastic, you should read it. If you’ve read this series, you’ll know what I meant when I stumbled it out - she’s horrible and petty and spiteful and vindictive and spoilt and mean and selfish and thoroughly invested in traditional gender roles and sparky and hateful. She debuts at age twelve, I think.
“Bitch” as I know it, and I’m talking non-reclaimed, perfectly describes her. Which is fascinating!
Wikipedia says:
It is also used to characterize someone who is belligerent and unreasonable, or displays rudely intrusive or aggressive behavior.
Its original use as a vulgarism, documented to the fourteenth century, suggested high sexual desire in a woman, comparable to a bitch in heat. The range of meanings has expanded in modern usage. In a feminist context, it can indicate a strong or assertive woman, one who might make men feel threatened. When applied to a man, “bitch” is a derogatory term for a subordinate.
The Liveship trilogy is gorgeously, wonderfuly written, and the best kind of high fantasy in that it uses differently built, magically infused societies to put the spotlight on aspects of real life. Malta was raised in a port township that is isolated, and where though day to day life is matriarchal due to the main masculine profession being seamanship, the laws and relationships are still strongly patriarchal. Girls don’t go to sea or own ships, women take their husbands’ names, girls are to be married off, the most admired celebrity women are the Satrap’s concubines. She was also raised in a household where her father, who is from an even more radically patriarchal, class-based society and whom she adores, cows (so horribly apt, this word here) her mother and wields a lot of practical, decision-making power.
Malta is clever. She’s bright, and romantic, and passionate, and has a lot of diplomatic aptitude, and she fits easily within her society’s beauty standards. She’s good at being flirtatious and coquettish, she’s dramatic. She’s this great wellspring of potential person, and she was raised in these oppressive, ignorant circumstances which had absolutely no expectations of her.
When I started the first book I hated Malta. I could barely read her pages; I wanted to rush ahead because she caused such an outraged pressure in my head. Much like reading Umbridge, in HP&OOTP. By the end? I adore her (this does not go for Umbridge). Gosh, she’s a wonderful character! You see, the world changes in such ways that an awful, awful lot becomes actually required of her - and she rises to it! It’s not quick, or easy, and she’s still kind of judgmental by the end, but the blossoming of her character arc is a wonder to behold. It’s inspiring reading! Ahhh I heart these books. Come to think of it, comparing the way I felt about Malta at the beginning and at the end probably turned a few major cogs in my “actually, I don’t and shouldn’t resent all females at all, even though I am unhappy at my all-girls school, that’s interesting. Maybe I should investigate this non-hatred of all of my gender further” journey.
By the series’ end, she’s saved three-four entire ways of life, fallen in adult-style love, talked her way out of numerous situations in which she was technically powerless and definitely vulnerable, resurrected a dragon, kept people she despised alive, learnt the value of female community and community in general, negotiated with royalty, managed to find an emotional/ideological truce with the members of her family who she naturally clashes with, and impressed her native high society with her wit and societal balancing ability. The only way I can imagine her being called a bitch by then, is in the watered down, general anti-woman “I don’t like you” way (which as far as I’m concerned has no legitimate uses).
The interesting thing is how clear to me my reflections on Malta made the fact that “bitch” really is a misogynistic word, because it describes female products of misogyny - and puts them down, unconcernedly, for the failings that their culture and unique circumstances have forced into them.
I think that that’s a pretty good reason for saying spiteful or vindictive instead of bitchy; it covers the same reactive bases, but it doesn’t punish or belittle a person for the fact that they live in a historically screwed up society.
Fiction is so cool.