THE CHAMPION GIRL CATHEXIS, SERIES III: BECKY, RACHEL, & JILL
This last group completes the series, beginning with the Dionysian Becky, a figure so frightful that the first time I saw her (wearing the curly blond wig), I almost jumped out of my running shoes. On the surface, Becky is nothing more than the partier-in-perpetuity, the incipient gold digger flashing her fulsome American-ness; below her bimbo veneer, however, is a shrieking Maenad letting loose a barbaric bourgeois yawp. Rachel is the placid counterpoint to Becky’s atavism, whether wearing a blue wig or sporting her Alice In Wonderland attire; her role in the Champion Pantheon is to quell the turbid emotional landscape with her childish optimism. Jill’s role is less defined. Some months, she inhabits her gaze with that ennui so particular to Seattle (ergo, Seasonal Affective Disorder), and other months she seemingly impersonates the butchy Artemis, looming in the display window like a talisman to ward off intellectual boobs and second-hand art dandies. As you can see, I feel threatened.
