Children’s author Roald Dahl really knocked it out the park when he crafted the tale of Matilda. It’s a captivating and relatable story of a precocious young girl raised in a world where the people and systems around her fail to see her excellence. She also has superpowers which helps matters somewhat. The story and its meaning are so powerful that it has led to an enduring and award-winning franchise, ensuring that the magical world of Matilda will be loved by children and adults for years to come.
When I was young, I adored the character of Matilda. She was this exceptionally clever, eloquent young bookworm who used her intelligence and superpowers to stand up for those she cared about. Looking back, I think my love of Matilda was born out of the fact that there were pretty much no independent young girls in stories at that time. Specifically, those whose main focus was being a clever, outspoken badass.
I also remember being repulsed and terrified by Miss Trunchbull. This huge, ugly, sallow faced woman who was horrifically cruel. Miss Honey, in contrast, was this beautiful, meek, softly spoken woman who wore floaty pastel coloured skirts and made learning fun. She was exactly what I wanted my teacher to be, and her plus Matilda were the perfect combination.
However, my black and white view of these characters changed when my sister threw a 90s themed birthday party and asked her guests to dress up as their favourite 90s film or TV character. Naturally, the low effort high yield black female characters like Dionne from Clueless and Hilary Banks from Fresh Prince were snapped up quickly. So I was left to think outside the box. This led me to the character of Matilda and the groundbreaking revelation that as a grown ass black woman, no matter how hard I tried I could not believably dress up as a 5 year-old white girl. Never fear, I thought, there was always the darling Miss Honey that I could dress up as. It was at this point that I realised, when looking at Matilda through the lens of maturity, that I wasn’t a Miss Honey at all. I was a Miss Trunchbull. This was obviously a terrifying thought at first, but the more I analysed it, the more ok I was with it.
To clarify, there are many attributes of Miss Trunchbull which I am not a fan of (sibling murder and child abuse to name a few) but as far as a fictional female character goes, I think she’s got the makings of a feminist boss and here are the reasons why:
1. She doesn’t adhere to stereotypical beauty standards – Not even the world of fiction is safe from Western beauty ideals. This is exemplified by the perfectly turned out Miss Honey whose beauty is synonymous with her goodness. On the contrary, Miss Trunchbull’s ugliness was one of the things that was used to add her to villainy, but I say you do you queen! Miss Trunchbull was hell a busy and, like many of us womenfolk, did not have time for that contouring life. Was she bothered by this, no! Did you ever she her stressing out about her sweaty top knot, hell no! She knew she was worth more than her face and hair (and in some cases facial hair) and therefore didn’t waste valuable time on making them look palatable for the masses. Snaps. For. Trunchbull
2. She challenged societal norms – In an absolutely classic scene, Mrs Honey had taught the class a poem to help them spell the world difficulty, which went along the lines of “Mrs D, Mrs I, Mrs F-F-I…”. When they repeated it to Miss Trunchbull, she rightly questioned why all of the women in the poem were married. The room is stunned. The mic/riding crop drop is delivered. Agatha Trunchbull has just rocked the world of these young impressionable minds by refusing to be defined by her marital status and invites the class to ponder on why society is so obsessed with whether a woman is in a relationship. We need more teachers like this. We need more women like this. If Roald Dahl had written this book today I’m sure Miss Trunchbull would have opted for the title of Mx because she’s a boss bitch like that.
3. She was happy being single – Miss Trunchbull, the lesser known inspiration for the Pussycat Doll banger “I Don’t Need a Man”, was the original independent woman. She was too busy trying to manage her underfunded school and keep up her hammer throw skills to worry about settling down. Even if she did have time for a partner, she was happy flying solo and living her best life. We can all learn from this, especially when accompanied with every “Independent Woman” playlist available on Spotify.
4. She was an Olympian – This is potentially my favourite thing about the ol Aggie, as I have now lovingly nicknamed her. She competed at the 1972 Olympics in not one, not two but three events! These weren’t your stereotypically feminine events either. This sporting fiend was out here doing shot put, hammer throw and javelin. Showing the women of the past, present and future that it’s ok for women to be strong and sporty and sweaty and to work hard at whatever their passionate about. I have all the time in the world for this type of “live fast, die young, bad girls do it well” energy…do you?
So, armoured with this newfound sense of appreciation for the massively flawed but in some ways staunchly feminist Agatha Trunchbull, it was much easier for me to dress as this fiercely independent, non-makeup wearing, sport lover who disagreed with imposed societal norms. Rather than the meek and mild stereotypically beautiful woman who liked picking posies in fields. Also, just so you know, I had a bloody great time at the party! I also won the fancy dress competition but whatever, that’s no big deal…
I was discussing this with a friend at lunch and I thought, i must not be the only person who has made this connection so I googled it & found this post. I think the representation of child abuse could even be representative of society's perception of women who don't want children of their own must hate children. I haven't come up with a good explanation for the sibling murder though.