When
The L Word
premiered in January 2004, two characters were situated as the
leads: Bette Porter (Jennifer Beals), a hotshot museum director,
and Jenny Schecter (Mia Kirshner), a young writer. Although
Bette quickly became a well-liked character, Jenny didn’t
fare nearly as well, despite Mia Kirshner’s obvious talents
as an actress.
The producers and actors of The L Word were all aware
of the negative reaction that Jenny got; in August 2004 Mia
Kirshner admitted to London’s Times, “Jenny’s
a very controversial character. I think the great thing about
her is she’s so flawed.” But while Kirshner may
have found Jenny’s flaws compelling, viewers were more
likely to agree with the Boston Globe, which recently
characterized Jenny as a “dreary, confused, introverted
narcissist.”
Given
the fact that series creator Ilene Chaiken is said to personally
identify most with Bette and Jenny, it’s not surprising
that in Season 2 there has been a well-orchestrated campaign
to make Jenny a more popular character. This has occurred on
several fronts: by redefining Jenny’s identity as a writer,
by casting the well-liked Shane (Katherine Moennig) as Jenny’s
new best friend, and by creating an overt coming-out storyline
for Jenny. Whether or not these steps will result in a fanbase
for Jenny has yet to be determined, but judging by the changing
tone on internet message boards, it seems to be working so far.
From
the very beginning of the series, Jenny Schecter has
been portrayed as a moody artist and author of literary fiction—particularly
in contrast to Alice (Leisha Hailey), a professional writer
who works for the fictional LA Magazine.
When Jenny arrives in L.A. she is writing a story titled “Thus
Spoke Sarah Schuster,” an obvious reference to Nietzsche’s
Thus Spoke Zarathustra, one of the most well-known
works of philosophy ever written.
After
reading a somewhat unintelligible line from her manuscript (“Because
Sarah Schuster came down, and now she reviles you, like you
revile your own craving”) early in Season 1, Jenny’s
boyfriend Tim (Eric Mabius) comments, “You scare me sometimes.
I see you going right to that edge. And I think I've lost you.
And then you come back with... [gestures to her manuscript]
And I know why you have to disappear on me like that. I'm so
fucking proud to have you in my life.”
In
contrast, Alice’s work for LA Magazine often
consists of Top Ten lists or articles about beauty treatments
that her friends consistently ridicule. Alice’s writing
is portrayed as silly and lacking in artistic merit, even though
Alice herself never claims to be working on the Great American
Novel. Nevertheless, this sets up a dynamic in which Jenny Schecter,
a partly-employed unpublished writer of literary fiction of
dubious quality, is situated as the “real” writer—someone
who is constantly in emotional turmoil, loves fiercely and without
moral boundaries, and turns out gut-wrenching prose about, well,
her guts. In other words, Jenny Schecter, from day one, has
been the perfect stereotype of the Tormented Artist.
This
icon generates both yearning and revulsion; the Tormented Artist
is someone who can create wonder and beauty through their work,
but can also occasionally end up cutting off their left ear.
In combination with a labyrinthine coming-out storyline in the
first season that involved lying to Tim, who was widely perceived
as honorable, it’s no wonder that Jenny didn’t generate
a lot of fans.
