Who is a female superhero?
The term female superhero is perhaps, a contradiction in terms. Traditionally most superheroes were men with similar story arcs. This familiar pattern of the Hero’s quest is best described by Joseph Campbell in his book “The Hero with A Thousand Faces”. Campbell’s Hero’s Journey begins when the hero is called out of their ordinary world by a challenge or disruption. After initial resistance, they cross the threshold into an unfamiliar world, often aided by a mentor. They face trials, allies and enemies that test them and lead to transformation. Finally, the hero returns to the ordinary world transformed, bringing back something of value for themselves or their community.
However, this construct suits the masculine more than the feminine. Campbell’s hero ventures into the world to claim his destiny and returns victorious. His right to occupy that world is never questioned; the challenges he faces are external.
In contrast, the feminine experience is vastly different - a female hero is compelled to set out on a journey in a world where her very right to exist is in question. Where the first obstacles placed before her are of societal norms and control. She begins her journey shackled by these shapeshifting chains with no single villain. Not only is she called upon to fight an invisible adversary, she must enter the battle already disarmed—stripped of agency and rights from the moment she drew her first breath.
And therefore, the female superhero needs her own definition. One that describes the uniquely feminine experience of becoming a hero and eventually a superhero.
Maureen Murdock provides an alternative understanding of the hero’s journey. In her book the “Heroine’s Journey”, the protagonist begins by separating from the feminine, often embracing traditionally masculine values such as achievement, independence, control, and external success. After proving herself in this world, she discovers that accomplishment alone does not bring fulfilment and experiences a period of disillusionment or spiritual descent. This leads her inward, where she reconnects with the feminine, heals her relationship with herself and with inherited ideas about womanhood, and reclaims qualities she may have rejected. The journey culminates not in choosing the feminine over the masculine, but in integrating both, creating a more whole and authentic sense of self.
While Heroine’s Journey correctly postulates the unique experience of being a heroine - the journey of the female superhero begins where the Heroine’s Journey ends.
Here I am reminded of an image of the fierce goddess Kali stepping on God Shiva as he lies on his back – vulnerable and defeated. Kali is the colour of the night, she wears skulls strung together as a garland and is known to be fierce, wild and all powerful. Shiva too is said to have these qualities but in a patriarchal world these same attributes are seen as brave, unstoppable and benevolent. Shiva is also viewed as the perfect husband. In one myth, he mourns the death of his wife by carrying her dismembered body across the lands causing the annihilation of everything he steps upon. His devotion makes him the God that women appease when they want a good husband.
Kali on the other hand, is not the Goddess that men appease when they want a good wife for obvious reasons. Ironically therein lies her superpower. Kali exists in full recognition of her power as it is. She needs no permission or approval. She stands in stark contrast to societal norms - naked, fierce, unapologetic. Shorn of these expectations – even Shiva has no way to control her.
The image of Kali stepping on Shiva becomes a powerful metaphor for the raw, untamed force of the divine feminine—a power so immense that even the gods cannot contain it. It represents a feminine energy that is neither submissive nor dependent on masculine authority, but elemental, transformative and formidable in its own right.
And therefore Kali’s power comes from not just integration but a complete negation of the principles of patriarchy. The heroine’s integration of the feminine and masculine leads to the next stage of accepting her power and its purpose leading to untold superpowers. The alchemy of transforming pain and separation into integration and ultimately the flowering of divine, feminine power, is the experience of the female superhero.
Krishna Circus’s superhero, Krishna, follows a similar trajectory. She struggles with the demands of destiny and with a profound sense of not belonging. Snatched from her parents and later abandoned by her adoptive mother, she is forced to venture into the world alone.
Yet it is precisely this rootlessness that places her outside patriarchal structures: she does not rebel against them; she simply does not know them. Her home is a sentient tent, her world stretches across time, and her only family is the band of fellow travellers who journey alongside her.
The female Krishna of Krishna Circus is placed within a mythic trajectory that echoes that of the male god Krishna. But when the same archetypal journey is inhabited by a woman, its meaning shifts. The events unfold differently because her gender changes the forces she must confront, the freedoms she is allowed, and ultimately, the kind of hero she is able to become.
The male god Krishna, is born as an avatar who comes to Earth to vanquish evil and restore dharma. He participates in wars, becomes a king, marries, loves Radha, and moves through the structures of power that shape his world.
The female superhero Krishna of Krishna Circus is also charged with saving the world, but her quest takes another path. Her mission is to save the Earth and the natural world—to protect the force that creates and sustains life. She does not fight to win a war. She does not seek a kingdom. She fights for balance, for authenticity, and for the protection of the defenceless.
Perhaps this is where the female superhero distinguishes herself. Having descended into disintegration, she returns transformed. She rejects the world’s accepted order and turns instead to ancient knowledge, instinct and intuition, discovering that this power has always existed within her—and that creation and destruction are inseparable. And perhaps this is the real journey of the female superhero. She is not here merely to save the world as it is. She is here to ask whether the world as it is deserves to be saved.
Krishna’s final battle, then, is not simply between good and evil. It is a choice between what must be protected and what must be left behind; between the structures that have brought us to the brink and the forces that might yet restore us. Her question is no longer simply how do I save the world?
It is: what is truly worth saving—and what must end so that something new can begin?
Madhureeta Anand, 17th September 2026
