Writing Disabilities, Part 4: Villains and Disabilities

Happy October Listen Up readers! It’s time to start getting ready for the holidays or, if you are a fellow writer, it’s time to prepare for National Novel Writing Month! To celebrate both of these, today’s blog post starts with a creative experiment! Take out some markers or colored pencils and a sheet of paper. Take five or ten minutes to draw a monster.

If you chose to skip the drawing, this experiment will also work with a monster you’ve seen in a movie, TV show, or book. Let’s begin!

Explain why the monster is a monster. What characteristics make it a monster? Is it the way it looks? The way that it is shaped? The way that it hunts? Write down why. Lastly, does your monster have physical deformities, scars, or any disabilities?

If you answered “yes” to the last question, you don’t need to feel guilty. The truth is the majority of people have been taught to associate disabilities with villains and monsters since the time they have been engaging in stories. The literary world has a longstanding trend to use disabilities or other physical differences as a way to highlight or reflect other negative characteristics, which may not be otherwise apparent in a character. Since we start to see this as kids, we end up learning to unconsciously associate disabilities with these villainous characters. As we get older, those associations become built into stigmas that surround disabilities today.

Let’s talk about a few examples. Think about your favorite stories as a kid. How many can you name that have physical differences to “mark” the villain? How many villains are mentally unstable or become unstable as the story goes on?

Scar from The Lion King and Captain Hook from Peter Pan not only have physical differences from the perfect-bodied heroes, they don’t even have a name outside of their differences. The Wicked Queen in Snow White takes becomes more and more mentally unstable as her efforts to kill Snow White are repeatedly foiled.

Another example is The Hunger Games. The villain in this series isn’t a specific person but rather a society. Throughout the series, Katniss meets several characters marked with disabilities, all or nearly all of them had their disabilities inflicted by evil acts of the Capital. Even though the Capital isn’t a person or disabled, readers are taught to associate the Capital with disabilities because it highlights the cruelty of the Capital.

Perhaps the greatest example I can give is the Star Wars franchise. Almost everyone associated with the dark side is disabled or has physical differences. Scars, deformities, missing limbs, mental disabilities, among many other examples. On the other hand, the Jedi and their allies, are always able-bodied. This ablest mindset is reinforced particularly when Obi-Wan speaks of Darth Vader. “He’s more machine now than man: twisted and evil.” This statement implies that Darth Vader is no longer a person because he has multiple disabilities and needs several pieces of assistive technology for his daily life. Secondly, it implies that he is not worth saving because of his disabilities.

What about Luke Skywalker? Luke, one of the main characters of the franchise, acquires a disability in Episode V. That’s where things start to get interesting from a literary analysis standpoint. Even though Luke is an example of a disabled hero, he appears completely able-bodied for the rest of the second trilogy. Furthermore, Luke became disabled because of Darth Vader. In other words, it is a case of the hero being permanently marked by evil. It’s not really disability representation, but rather meant to be a symbol of evil.

It’s a complicated subject and I imagine I will be writing a whole blog post series on Star Wars, especially because they have been trying to address the ableist nature of the franchise by bringing forth more characters with disabilities, such as in The Bad Batch and Rogue One.

Azula in The Last Airbender

Another way to look at the subject of disabilities and villains is with the nullification of disabilities theory. Disabilities are often seen as undesirable or as a weakness, which ends up being significant because villains are designed to lose. With the nullification of disabilities theory, we start to see how disabilities are used to play a role in power status.

An example is Azula from The Last Airbender. Azula is easily one of the strongest and most cunning characters on the show. However, the closer she gets to her goal to be the Fire Lord, she becomes more and more mentally unstable. In other words, the closer she gets to power, the more disabled she becomes. In the grand finale, Azula almost succeeds in killing two of the show’s main protagonists as a testament to how powerful she is. Azula, in her prime, I don’t think she would have been defeated by the good guys. But her mental health was disrupted to a point that she was making rash decisions in battle and over-committing to moves, which ultimately led to her defeat. Azula would not have been defeated unless she had a disability.

To summarize the basis: bad guys, or villains, have disabilities and/or physical differences. The good guys, or the heroes, are always able-bodied (some may say perfect-bodied). I recognize that part of this is due to beauty standards. A lot of people don’t see disabilities as something that can be beautiful. But most often disabilities or physical differences are used as a metaphor for evil. Especially mental disabilities.

This subject has affected me for a long time. Recently I was reflecting on my childhood and I recalled that I would often call myself names such as “mongrel,” “cursed,” “monster,” “half-breed,” and the like. I was at a critical point where I was beginning to build a larger awareness of my disability and becoming aware of how it made me different. I wondered why I was disabled. I wondered if I had done something bad in a past life, so I had to be punished. I wondered if my parents had angered God, so he punished them by cursing me.

Now that I am an adult, I understand that none of these things are true. But as a kid, I was building awareness of my place in the world. It’s natural to question why things are the way they are and sometimes we come to the wrong conclusion. My conclusions, as wrong as they were, were the only way that I could make sense of my disability with the knowledge and examples that I had seen demonstrated in the world around me. Disabilities were marks of evil. I was disabled, therefore, I must be the result of evil.

Monsters and villains, more often than not, are designed to create fear. I, for one, refuse to believe the best way to highlight negative characteristics is to rely on disabilities or physical differences to cue the reader to the presence of evil. It’s been a longstanding tactic for many writers, but it’s time to start addressing the messages these tactics are setting. It’s also not okay to use disabilities as character “flaws.” Disabilities run so much deeper than what you see. Disability is an identity just like skin color, religious affiliation, gender identity, or sexual orientation. It has history and cultures built around it. The experience of disability is unique from person to person as well. Even if the two people in question have the same disability, they will find unique ways to adapt.

As you go out shopping for Halloween costumes this year, take note of what costumes seem to emphasize physical differences. Are they imitating disabilities as something to inspire fear or suggest evil? Pay attention to movies and how villains are presented. Are they given physical differences or disabilities, whereas the hero is not? Being aware of these issues is the first step toward building a better representation, and therefore, a better future.

For further reading: here is a link to an awesome article that talks more about the harmful implications of tying disabilities to villains and other harmful forms of disability representation. I found it very informative.

What are your Halloween plans this year? Comment below and let me know! I have yet to decide on a Halloween costume myself.

Book Report: Goddess in the Machine by Lora Beth Johnson

Genre: Young Adult Science-Fiction
Published June 30, 2020

Brief Summary

Earth is dying. Seventeen-year-old Andromedia “Andra” Yue Watts is put into cryosleep with hundreds of other colonists to travel to a new planet. The trip will take one hundred years, but when Andrea wakes up, it has been a thousand. Her friends and family are long gone and the people around her keep calling her Goddess. Meanwhile, Zhade, an exiled prince is planning on using Andrea to lay claim to his throne. Zhade and Andrea team up to save the city and find out the mystery of why Andrea was left in stasis.

Warning: Spoilers ahead

Welcome Listen Up readers! This week I’m excited to talk about Goddess in the Machine. What I loved about this book is the way it mixed science-fiction with fantasy. The book alternates between Andrea’s perspective, who sees the world around her constructed by science and technology, and Zhade’s perspective, who sees everything that Andrea does as a form of magic. It blurred the border between the genres of fantasy and science-fiction.

Another intriguing aspect of the book was the language. Since language changes and adapts to the needs of its users over time, and Andrea was asleep for one thousand years, language has evolved to a point it is unfamiliar to Andrea. Think of it as if Shakespeare was put in cryosleep and was woken up today. He would likely see our way of speaking strange. I read this book shortly after finishing a class on linguistics and saw a lot of connections to the things I learned about language and how it evolves.

Now, onto the disability analysis. This might seem strange as my first book report since neither of the main characters are presented as having a disability. Like many other science fiction works, GITM assumes a future where disabilities of all kinds have been eradicated. I discussed in a previous blog post, Defining Disabilities, how disabilities are constructed by cultural barriers rather than from a medical standpoint so that there isn’t a way to eradicate every single disability in existence.

Besides those facts, near the end of the book one of the side characters, Kiv, turns out to be deaf and needs to lipread. While Kiv is not a main character, he provides an example of representation that is better than most. Oftentimes characters with disabilities are there for comedic relief; such as the deaf storekeeper who is busy getting the characters onions they did not ask for. Another common pitfall for characters with disabilities is being killed off, sending multiple messages including; disabilities are weaknesses and that disabilities need to be eradicated.

Kiv breaks the mold differently by being in a position of power—tasked with being the Goddess’s bodyguard. Since the people believe that Andrea will save them and others want her dead, it stands to reason that they wouldn’t let just any soldier be her bodyguard. Only the best of the best. This breaks the mold of what I’ve seen a lot of other books do.

Oftentimes when a disabled character is involved in a story, they are in a position of low power. It is similar to the way that even after the Civil Rights movement of 1964, people of color struggled to be represented in positions of power. For years, they were presented as side characters or as servants, but they never got to be the hero.

This is why certain moments in films are so powerful for the minorities they represent. As an example, in Star Wars: Rise of Skywalker Finn and Jannah ride orbaks (commonly referred to as “space horses”) and lead a battle charge onto a star destroyer, resulting in a powerful moment. These characters are in a position of power where the minorities they represent traditionally are not portrayed as being leaders. Another example of this is the Black Panther movie, which flips the traditional white narrative. A black superhero, who is king of the most technologically advanced civilization on Earth, and protected by an exclusive team of warrior women, outfitted in proper armor that doesn’t fall prey to the male gaze. Few white characters are included, the most prominent one being Agent Ross who quickly finds himself overwhelmed by the technology of Wakanda.

In another Marvel film, Avengers: Endgame there is powerful moment for women, that shows all the female superheroes working together. This particular scene caused a lot of controversy. The superhero world is dominated by men and the male gaze. This moment was powerful because it shows women with superpowers, dominating the battlefield, in a group the same way male superheroes are regularly portrayed. The scene made some people uncomfortable because it is not something they are used to seeing.

Currently, I am not aware of a similar moment in a book or movie the replicates a similar empowering moment of disabled people. Unless counting the few documentaries that recorded the Disabled Rights Movement. While these documentaries are empowering, it is not the same as seeing it in a work of fiction.

Coming back to Goddess in the Machine that’s why Kiv stood out to me. He was in a position of power. This was made even more powerful when Andrea suggests to Kiv that he could be “cured.”

Andrea looked up, studying Kiv—the way he watched Lilibet, reading her lips.

“You’re deaf?” she asked, before she remembered she wasn’t suppose to be listening. It made sense now. Why he never spoke, rarely responded in any way how Zhade would sometimes give him physical cues . . .”Why are you hiding it? Someone could have helped you. I’ve seen the modded arms and eyes here. The sorcerers know what to do. The med’bots—uh, angels, could have fixed you.”

Kiv watched her mouth as she formed the words, his expression hardening.

“I’m not broken.” he said. “. . . I am me. I don’t need to change for you.”

Goddess in the Machine, pages 315-316


I love how Kiv gets a moment to push back against the ableist narrative. Many people with disabilities do not see themselves as needing to be cured. It is a longstanding “ethical” debate within our culture. Unfortunately, there are a lot of people today that believe disabilities need to be eradicated, and methods under discussion range from assisted suicide, infanticide, genetic modification, and laws to make it illegal for disabled people to procreate. All of these, in my not-so-humble opinion, are unethical.

Kiv stands in the midst of these arguments and has probably had to prove himself many times over to the same ableist arguments Andrea makes. In addition, Kiv is involved in a relationship. Interabled relationships are another thing that is rare to see in stories, rarer than seeing characters with disabilities.

One of the things that I am commonly known for among my friends is my anti-romance stand. Romance is something that has always bored me and I have no idea how people can fall in love with someone and commit to a life-long commitment within a few months of first meeting them. However, I have also never seen a person like myself reflected in a romance. As a child, this reinforced my struggles with my disability and identity because in having a disability, I believed I was unlovable. Sometimes I can’t help wondering if I am truly disinterested in romance or if it is a barrier of internalized ableism that I have yet to overcome.

Coming August 24, 2021

All in all, Kiv stands out by breaking a lot of the molds that are common in writing disabilities and I suspect that we will be seeing more of him in the sequel, Devil in the Device, which is currently scheduled to be released in August of this year. I appreciate the inclusivity done by the author because even though Kiv is such a small part of the novel, it was thrilling to see a disabled warrior doing something that mattered, involved in a relationship, and who chooses to remain disabled in a society where disabilities are frequently eradicated.

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