Through the relationship between Gan and T’Gatoi, Butler uses an unfamiliar environment to critique familiar gender roles and the balance of power within stereotypical relationships. Gan, although male, is a representation of motherhood and traditionally feminine role (in human terms). By effectively gender-swapping these roles, Butler lifts them away from the reader’s preconceptions about men and women so that these roles can be considered in their own right. Butler uses this conceit to highlight the restrictive and harmful nature of traditional gender dynamics, in particular the ways in which rigid adherence to masculinity robs others of agency and power.
T’Gatoi, though female, reflects traditional masculinity. She is physically dominant, being ten feet in length and far more powerful than Gan. T’Gatoi never makes requests, but only gives commands, even when she is in Gan’s family’s home. When she brings sterile eggs for the family to drink, for instance, she dictates who gets how much. T’Gatoi is also socially dominant: she is a successful politician and the ruler of the Preserve, using this power to protect the Terrans from the “hordes” of desperate Tlic that would consume them. This reflects the dominance and responsibility that men have long held in patriarchal societies.
By contrast, it’s clear that Gan—occupying a traditionally female role—is not equal to T’Gatoi in their relationship. Gan has been chosen from birth to carry T’Gatoi’s children in his body, without ever having any say in the matter, as a part of a social contract between the Terran and the Tlic. His singular function in life is to help T’Gatoi have children. This parallels the arranged marriages of certain human societies wherein young women were promised as future brides at a very young age. It is further significant that the children Gan must bear are literally parasitic, just as an unwanted pregnancy may seem like a parasitic attachment, a foreign organism draining a woman’s strength and well-being. Until Gan comes of age, he has also been entirely submissive to T’Gatoi, doing whatever she asks and accepting whatever physical affection she gives. Even when T’Gatoi strikes him, knocking him across the room, Gan blames himself for not heeding her warning to obey her rather than blaming T’Gatoi for hurting him. It is also stated multiple times that Gan is T’Gatoi’s property. This again parallels the traditional subservience of women within patriarchal relationships.
T’Gatoi’s unmatched power and strength are critical for the protection of Gan’s family from the world, but cause inequity in her relationship with Gan. Butler uses their unbalanced relationship to critique the way that rigid masculinity often stunts relationships. Because T’Gatoi needs this power in the outside world to protect Gan and his family, she has not learned to show weakness or allow herself to be vulnerable within the relationship. This makes Gan feel powerless and drives him to suppress his own fears of her and what she will do to him in the birth process until it hardens into hatred. Gan even considers murdering T’Gatoi and killing himself, simply as an act of self-assertion. Butler here criticizes the exercise of traditional masculine power, which the story suggests creates a deeply unhealthy dynamic wherein men cannot admit vulnerability and women cannot exercise their own agency.
Only by embracing vulnerability is T’Gatoi able to make space for Gan to confront his fears and take agency in their relationship. Butler is firmly arguing that is in the best interest of both men and women for men to let go of their power and for women to assert their autonomy. Although T’Gatoi chose Gan from birth, Gan is not able to truly choose T’Gatoi until Gan forces her to accept the risk of allowing Gan to have agency. This manifests specifically in his demand that T’Gatoi allow the family to keep their illegal rifle, despite the fact that that means her children will be around a potential weapon in the future. By allowing for that uncertainty, T’Gatoi joins Gan in feeling the fear of not being in control. He tells her, “Leave it here … Accept the risk. There is risk, Gatoi, in dealing with a partner.” Gan’s newfound ability to choose T’Gatoi for himself, rather than being forced to submit, gives him a personal stake in the relationship and the wellbeing of their future Tlic children. Not only is he willing to be with T’Gatoi, but he wants to be with her. He wants to honor her by caring for her young. Butler suggests that not only is a balance of power within the relationship more ethical, but it is also far more fruitful. When both parties accept the risk of dealing with a true partner—rather than a subordinate—they allow for the creation of genuine trust.
Significantly, Butler’s critique of gender roles does not aim to abolish them entirely. Indeed, by setting Gan and T’Gatoi’s relationship against a hostile environment, the author shows the clear need for traditionally masculine power in some circumstances, such as T’Gatoi’s use of political dominance to protect Gan’s family and the other Terrans in the Preserve from the Tlic masses who are desperate for hosts. Even so, Butler strongly argues for equity within a relationship. This redistribution of power will be better both for each individual’s development as well as their strength as a unit.
Related Themes from Other Texts
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Gender and Power Quotes in Bloodchild
I lay against T’Gatoi’s long, velvet underside, sipping from my egg now and then, wondering why my mother denied herself such a harmless pleasure. Less of her hair would be gray if she indulged now and then. The eggs prolonged life, prolonged vigor. My father, who had never refused one in his life, had lived more than twice as long as he should have. And toward the end of his life, when he should have been slowing down, he had married my mother and fathered four children.
T’Gatoi was hounded on the outside. Her people wanted more of us made available. Only she and her political faction stood between us and the hordes who did not understand why there was a Preserve—why any Terran could not be courted, paid, drafted, in some way made available to them. Or they did understand, but in their desperation, they did not care. She parceled us out to the desperate and sold us to the rich and powerful for their political support. Thus, we were necessities, status symbols, and an independent people.
She lay down now against T’Gatoi, and the whole left row of T’Gatoi’s limbs closed around her, holding her loosely, but securely. I had always found it comfortable to lie that way, but except for my older sister, no one else in the family liked it. They said it made them feel caged.
T’Gatoi meant to cage my mother.
Years passed. T’Gatoi traveled and increased her influence. The Preserve was hers by the time she came back to my mother to collect what she probably saw as her just reward for her hard work.
T’Gatoi whipped her three meters of body off her couch, toward the door, and out at full speed. She had bones—ribs, a long spine, a skull, four sets of limb bones per segment. But when she moved that way, twisting, hurling herself into controlled falls, landing running, she seemed not only boneless, but aquatic—something swimming through the air as though it were water. I loved watching her move.
“I want no argument from you this time, Gan,” she said.
I straightened. “What shall I do?”
“Go out and slaughter an animal that is at least half your size.”
“Slaughter? But I’ve never—”
She knocked me across the room. Her tail was an efficient weapon whether she exposed the sting or not. I got up, feeling stupid for having ignored her warning, and went into the kitchen.
I shook my head. “Don’t do it to her, Gatoi.” I was not Qui. It seemed I could become him, though, with no effort at all. I could make Xuan Hoa my shield. Would it be easier to know that red worms were growing in her flesh instead of mine?
“Leave it for the family. One of them might use it to save my life someday.”
She grasped the rifle barrel, but I wouldn’t let go. I was pulled into a standing position over her.
“Leave it here!” I repeated. “If we’re not your animals, if these are adult things, accept the risk. There is risk, Gatoi, in dealing with a partner.”
“I was afraid.”
Silence.
“I still am.” I could admit it to her here, now.
“But you came to me . . . to save Hoa.”
“Yes.” I leaned my forehead against her. She was cool velvet, deceptively soft.
“And to keep you for myself,” I said. It was so. I didn’t understand it, but it was so.
