She’s a Maneater: How the Femme Fatale Reset a Male-Dominated History

Written and Modeled by Rachel Hale, Culture Editor also Modeled by Peyton Driebel and Chris Raemisch | Photographed by Emma Spaciel, Staff Photographer | Makeup and Styling by Ella Bartlett, Fashion Editorial Staff and Holly Shulman,

Contributing Writer

Magnetic and irresistible, the Femme Fatale trope has long been a term to describe a woman using her sexual prowess as a weapon to get what she wants. But beneath her candy-sweet demeanor and skin-tight dress, the Femme Fatale is dangerous — the history of literature and art has indicated that she often leaves destruction, despair and a foolish man in her wake.

The trope is seen in early figures such as Delilah, Salome and temptresses Lilith and Circe. The archetype thrived during Europe’s Romantic Period in literary works including Matthew Gregory Lewis’s Matilda character in “The Monk” and the seductive female vampires depicted in Bram Stoker’s 1897 novel “Dracula.” During 1940s and ’50s noir film-era Hollywood crime thrillers, “Leave Her to Heaven” (1945) and “Gilda” (1946) depicted wives manipulating their husbands, while “The Postman Always Rings Twice” (1946) relates the plot of a wife who manipulates a man into killing her husband. Later films, “Chinatown” (1974), “Basic Instinct” (1992) and “The Last Seduction” (1994) tell similar stories of a woman’s ability to transform seduction into power.

The term “maneater” or “vamp” to describe a Femme Fatale stems from an 1872 Gothic novella depicting prototype Carmilla, a lesbian vampire who preys upon young women to whom she is sexually attracted. In recent years, songs like Hall & Oates’ “Maneater” (1982) and Nelly Furtado’s “Maneater” (2006) have also contributed to its connotation.

The Femme Fatale uses her sexuality to her advantage

Even in the Femme Fatale’s acts of purported empowerment, the presence of a male voyeur is inescapable. The maneater in a storyline is often depicted as one wearing a low-cut gown or taking part in feminine acts like dancing or applying makeup. Overshadowing plotlines of liberation — killing a rapist, exiling a cheating husband or earning money to be self-sufficient — the Femme Fatale was ultimately intended as a hyper-sexualized fragmentation of the male gaze in that power is limited to her sexuality.

The Femme Fatale differs from other tropes of power in that it capitalizes on both feminine and male desires. Take Princess Léonora d’Este, the protagonist of Joséphin Péladan’s 1884 critical literary work “Le Vice Suprême.” Scholars reviewing the work noted that the princess’s despotism is rooted “not only in her indomitable sexuality as a woman but also in her bond with patriarchy” and that she considers herself “nothing like ordinary women.”1 In the princess’s refusal to take pleasure in sex, a purportedly masculine desire, or in marriage, a feminine one, the character circumvents both female and male desire. In her mind, the femme fatale is superior not just to men, but to women.

The modern Femme Fatale combines allure and agency

The modern maneater is the female version of a womanizer, though their motive could expand beyond sex into venues of money, power, fame or genuine good. The idea of using femininity to procure a response from a man (whether

1 Kanshi H. SATO, “Sacher-Masoch, Péladan and Fin-De-Siècle France,” Sacher-Masoch, Péladan and fin-de-siècle France, Waseda Global Forum No. 7, 339–362, 2010. it’s love or something to gain) is visible in TikTok tutorials explaining feminine seduction archetypes or advising how to channel dark feminine energy. Hashtags #sireneyes and #doeeyes have upwards of 5 million views on videos explaining how to use makeup to shape the female eye in a way that attracts male attention.

The trope may have originated as an illusion of male pleasure, but it doesn’t exist this way in its entirety. In her book “Criminal Femme Fatales in American Hardboiled Crime Fiction,” Maysaa Jaber argues that through their seductive and criminal actions, the Femme Fatale is not just an object of male desire, she’s a woman with agency. Recent movies “Hustlers” (2019) and “Cruella” (2021) depict the Femme Fatale as a powerful figure in her own right more than a woman subverting male desires. In other examples of the trope, like character Megara in “Hercules,” (1997) the Femme Fatale uses her powers not just to ensnare a man, but eventually for good.

The women depicted by the trope should be remembered for their malintent, but also for their determination, confidence and self-assurance — traits all women should feel capable of today. ■