Jordan Baker in The Great Gatsby is a bit of an enigma. Present at every party she yet never take... more Jordan Baker in The Great Gatsby is a bit of an enigma. Present at every party she yet never takes center stage, privy to everybody’s secrets, her own are yet never fully disclosed and one cannot help but regret that this does not seem to be Jordan’s story; as she remains a mystery, hiding behind a “cool, insolent smile” (64). However, there are rare instances in the novel where Jordan’s true persona shines through and where her real passions and vulnerabilities are revealed. The ‘real’ Jordan is full of contradictions. Her blasé coolness, as Nick observes, only seeks to hide her insecurities. What is more, she seems to employ dishonesty not only to further her career as a golf champion but also to manipulate social situations. Yet, Nick is quick to forgive Jordan’s tendency to twist the truth, and he may be right. After all, in order for a woman like Jordan to succeed in the male-dominated society of the 1920’s she essentially had to be deceiving - or else she herself would be deceived by repressive social norms – and the reproductive system of her own female body. That this may be a concrete problem for Jordan can be gleaned from the conversation she has with Nick about “rotten driver[s]” and “accident[s]” (64). (While on the surface, this conversation might literally appear to be about cars and reckless drivers, it can also be interpreted as a veiled allusion to promiscuity, unwanted pregnancies and abortion.) In 1920’s society Jordan’s female body may be potentially ‘dangerous’ as a woman was all too quick to get blamed for any “accident”, which is why she might seek the stability of a relationship with Nick Carraway, whom she seems to think an honest, ‘safe driver’. Jordan’s need for protection and stability, thus, aligns her much more closely with her more traditionally feminine friend, Daisy Buchanan. In fact, Daisy and Jordan may have far more in common than it seems, as Jordan, at one point, admits that Daisy is the person whom she admired the most. This suggests that, beneath her tough, tomboy demeanor, it may, ultimately, be Jordan’s goal to become herself more like Daisy. Thus, to a certain extent even cool, confident Jordan seems to have internalized the traditional feminine values for which Daisy stands. Therefore, one might argue that despite being cast in the role of the emancipated “New Woman”, Jordan Baker in The Great Gatsby is not truly liberated, she is still subject to the social pressure that surrounds her as can be seen in her dependency on dishonesty, her lack of sexual liberation, and her idolization of the traditional feminine role.
Both Sandra Cisneros and Helena María Viramontes in their novels, The House on Mango Street and U... more Both Sandra Cisneros and Helena María Viramontes in their novels, The House on Mango Street and Under the Feet of Jesus, respectively, deal with the experience of growing up as a young Mexican-American woman in the United States. Both their protagonists (Esperanza in The House on Mango Street and Estrella in Under the Feet of Jesus) not only experience discrimination as Latinas at the hands of mainstream Anglo-American culture, but are also discriminated as women within Mexican culture, whose traditional gender roles leave little room for female self-identification. Both Cisneros and Viramontes show the problem of discrimination based on gender to be closely related to those of racism and classism as both Esperanza and Estrella witness the abuse and exploitation of women as part of the vicious cycle of poverty in a lower class environment. To the young protagonists (both of whom are entering puberty and about to discover their own sexuality) female sexuality, in this context, often appears threatening and dangerous, as it entraps women in dependence and poverty. Thus, both Esperanza and Estrella struggle to come to terms with their femininity and sexuality. Both eventually have to break away from the traditions they were raised in, in order to arrive at a more fluid and flexible gender identity. In that sense, both The House on Mango Street and Under the Feet of Jesus can be read as coming-of-age stories on the formation of Chicana identity.
The aim of this paper is to examine how exactly female mental illness in
the Victorian era is rep... more The aim of this paper is to examine how exactly female mental illness in the Victorian era is represented in Waters’ novel. While the “madness” for which Sue (as Maud) is confined to the asylum is merely a sham, what I am going to focus on is the Victorian phenomenon of female hysteria and how Maud in Fingersmith actually exhibits disordered symptoms which at the time may have been considered a sign of hysteria. Tammy Kaye Drawing on the findings of Susan Bordo – who, in her book, Unbearable Weight, Feminism, Western Culture, and the Body, explores to what extent predominantly female nervous disorders (just like the very construct of the female body) can be seen as “constituted by culture” (Foucault qtd. in Bordo 142) - I am going to argue, that hysteria – contrary to Victorian psychiatrist beliefs – can be considered the result, not of women’s physical and mental “fragility”, but rather of the era’s problematic conception of femininity.1 As I will demonstrate, the example of Maud (who was brought up within the rules and restrictions common to Victorian upper-class femininity) illustrates how women, in a culture that sought to control and censure the female body, might have internalized these anxieties about their own bodies that then manifested themselves in the physical symptoms of hysteria. Furthermore, I will discuss how Waters portrayal of Maud shows her hysteric symptoms to be not only caused by, but actually compliant with, Victorian social norms, and thus can be said to refute that notion in feminist discourse which glorifies hysteria as a form of proto-feminist protest. Rather than descend into futile madness, Waters’ protagonists by the end of the novel can be said to have found a much more effective way of resisting social control of their bodies. For, to accept their lesbian sexuality allows them, not only to embrace their own as well as the other’s body, but also to defy Victorian society’s narrow definition of femininity in the style of what feminist writers such as Monique Wittig have championed by proclaiming that a lesbian is not a woman (Wittig 2020).
Why Lydia Bennet is the True Feminist Heroine of Pride and Prejudice
Frequently overlooked as li... more Why Lydia Bennet is the True Feminist Heroine of Pride and Prejudice
Frequently overlooked as little more than Elizabeth Bennet’s annoying little sister, Lydia is not always characterized in the most favorable terms: “vain, ignorant, idle, and absolutely uncontrolled” and “the most determined flirt that ever made herself or her family ridiculous” (Austen 135), are just some of the choice words her sister uses to describe her. However, I find, that these seemingly negative attributes are precisely what make Lydia a progressive female character as they radically break with the expectations on proper femininity at the time. Her vanity, for instance, can also be interpreted as valuable self-confidence at a time where modesty demanded women to be almost afraid of their own bodies. Similarly, her “idle” and ”uncontrolled” (135) tastes for pleasure and entertainment are significant when women were expected to be silent, self-sacrificing beings. Her Ignorance, too, also renders her ignorant of many of society’s oppressive norms, allowing her to act and speak her mind unabashedly. Finally, for a woman to be a “flirt” (135) and freely express her sexual desires can really only be considered negative in an antiquated society that will not permit her to be anything short of ‘pure’ and ‘angelic’. Lydia, thus, rebels against Regency constructions of femininity in a major way. Perhaps most importantly, her rebellion is never punished for after her elopement with Wickham (one of the most radical acts at a time were female purity before matrimony was near-sacred) she returns still “untamed, unabashed” and “fearless” (181). Therefore, Lydia Bennet, as I will argue, can be considered far more than just the comic side character of the “silliest [girl] in the country” (18), in fact she might well be the real ‘feminist heroine’ of Pride and Prejudice.
The tale of the four March sisters and their journey to womanhood, intended as a moral guidebook ... more The tale of the four March sisters and their journey to womanhood, intended as a moral guidebook for girls, might seem, on the surface, innocent and conformist enough. Yet, Alcott’s inclusion of the serious topic of war into the genre of ‘Children’s Literature’ hints at unresolved conflicts and resentments that are brewing just below the shimmering surface. Indeed, I contend that the Civil War becomes important in Little Women in two major ways: first of all, it is of a metaphorical significance for the young protagonists’ own inner ‘Civil Wars’ as they must come to terms with their maturation into womanhood, in a society where their gender might prove (as it does for Jo) a “disappointment” (6). For Alcott’s little “pilgrims” their femininity seems, indeed, a heavy “burden” to bear (18) and though there are few instances of outright dissent the Civil War as metaphor allows for expression of repressed pain and resentment. Simultaneously, the novel also illustrates how the extreme situation of the (historically real) Civil War may have provided, briefly, a chance for women’s agency and liberation.
Jordan Baker in The Great Gatsby is a bit of an enigma. Present at every party she yet never take... more Jordan Baker in The Great Gatsby is a bit of an enigma. Present at every party she yet never takes center stage, privy to everybody’s secrets, her own are yet never fully disclosed and one cannot help but regret that this does not seem to be Jordan’s story; as she remains a mystery, hiding behind a “cool, insolent smile” (64). However, there are rare instances in the novel where Jordan’s true persona shines through and where her real passions and vulnerabilities are revealed. The ‘real’ Jordan is full of contradictions. Her blasé coolness, as Nick observes, only seeks to hide her insecurities. What is more, she seems to employ dishonesty not only to further her career as a golf champion but also to manipulate social situations. Yet, Nick is quick to forgive Jordan’s tendency to twist the truth, and he may be right. After all, in order for a woman like Jordan to succeed in the male-dominated society of the 1920’s she essentially had to be deceiving - or else she herself would be deceived by repressive social norms – and the reproductive system of her own female body. That this may be a concrete problem for Jordan can be gleaned from the conversation she has with Nick about “rotten driver[s]” and “accident[s]” (64). (While on the surface, this conversation might literally appear to be about cars and reckless drivers, it can also be interpreted as a veiled allusion to promiscuity, unwanted pregnancies and abortion.) In 1920’s society Jordan’s female body may be potentially ‘dangerous’ as a woman was all too quick to get blamed for any “accident”, which is why she might seek the stability of a relationship with Nick Carraway, whom she seems to think an honest, ‘safe driver’. Jordan’s need for protection and stability, thus, aligns her much more closely with her more traditionally feminine friend, Daisy Buchanan. In fact, Daisy and Jordan may have far more in common than it seems, as Jordan, at one point, admits that Daisy is the person whom she admired the most. This suggests that, beneath her tough, tomboy demeanor, it may, ultimately, be Jordan’s goal to become herself more like Daisy. Thus, to a certain extent even cool, confident Jordan seems to have internalized the traditional feminine values for which Daisy stands. Therefore, one might argue that despite being cast in the role of the emancipated “New Woman”, Jordan Baker in The Great Gatsby is not truly liberated, she is still subject to the social pressure that surrounds her as can be seen in her dependency on dishonesty, her lack of sexual liberation, and her idolization of the traditional feminine role.
Both Sandra Cisneros and Helena María Viramontes in their novels, The House on Mango Street and U... more Both Sandra Cisneros and Helena María Viramontes in their novels, The House on Mango Street and Under the Feet of Jesus, respectively, deal with the experience of growing up as a young Mexican-American woman in the United States. Both their protagonists (Esperanza in The House on Mango Street and Estrella in Under the Feet of Jesus) not only experience discrimination as Latinas at the hands of mainstream Anglo-American culture, but are also discriminated as women within Mexican culture, whose traditional gender roles leave little room for female self-identification. Both Cisneros and Viramontes show the problem of discrimination based on gender to be closely related to those of racism and classism as both Esperanza and Estrella witness the abuse and exploitation of women as part of the vicious cycle of poverty in a lower class environment. To the young protagonists (both of whom are entering puberty and about to discover their own sexuality) female sexuality, in this context, often appears threatening and dangerous, as it entraps women in dependence and poverty. Thus, both Esperanza and Estrella struggle to come to terms with their femininity and sexuality. Both eventually have to break away from the traditions they were raised in, in order to arrive at a more fluid and flexible gender identity. In that sense, both The House on Mango Street and Under the Feet of Jesus can be read as coming-of-age stories on the formation of Chicana identity.
The aim of this paper is to examine how exactly female mental illness in
the Victorian era is rep... more The aim of this paper is to examine how exactly female mental illness in the Victorian era is represented in Waters’ novel. While the “madness” for which Sue (as Maud) is confined to the asylum is merely a sham, what I am going to focus on is the Victorian phenomenon of female hysteria and how Maud in Fingersmith actually exhibits disordered symptoms which at the time may have been considered a sign of hysteria. Tammy Kaye Drawing on the findings of Susan Bordo – who, in her book, Unbearable Weight, Feminism, Western Culture, and the Body, explores to what extent predominantly female nervous disorders (just like the very construct of the female body) can be seen as “constituted by culture” (Foucault qtd. in Bordo 142) - I am going to argue, that hysteria – contrary to Victorian psychiatrist beliefs – can be considered the result, not of women’s physical and mental “fragility”, but rather of the era’s problematic conception of femininity.1 As I will demonstrate, the example of Maud (who was brought up within the rules and restrictions common to Victorian upper-class femininity) illustrates how women, in a culture that sought to control and censure the female body, might have internalized these anxieties about their own bodies that then manifested themselves in the physical symptoms of hysteria. Furthermore, I will discuss how Waters portrayal of Maud shows her hysteric symptoms to be not only caused by, but actually compliant with, Victorian social norms, and thus can be said to refute that notion in feminist discourse which glorifies hysteria as a form of proto-feminist protest. Rather than descend into futile madness, Waters’ protagonists by the end of the novel can be said to have found a much more effective way of resisting social control of their bodies. For, to accept their lesbian sexuality allows them, not only to embrace their own as well as the other’s body, but also to defy Victorian society’s narrow definition of femininity in the style of what feminist writers such as Monique Wittig have championed by proclaiming that a lesbian is not a woman (Wittig 2020).
Why Lydia Bennet is the True Feminist Heroine of Pride and Prejudice
Frequently overlooked as li... more Why Lydia Bennet is the True Feminist Heroine of Pride and Prejudice
Frequently overlooked as little more than Elizabeth Bennet’s annoying little sister, Lydia is not always characterized in the most favorable terms: “vain, ignorant, idle, and absolutely uncontrolled” and “the most determined flirt that ever made herself or her family ridiculous” (Austen 135), are just some of the choice words her sister uses to describe her. However, I find, that these seemingly negative attributes are precisely what make Lydia a progressive female character as they radically break with the expectations on proper femininity at the time. Her vanity, for instance, can also be interpreted as valuable self-confidence at a time where modesty demanded women to be almost afraid of their own bodies. Similarly, her “idle” and ”uncontrolled” (135) tastes for pleasure and entertainment are significant when women were expected to be silent, self-sacrificing beings. Her Ignorance, too, also renders her ignorant of many of society’s oppressive norms, allowing her to act and speak her mind unabashedly. Finally, for a woman to be a “flirt” (135) and freely express her sexual desires can really only be considered negative in an antiquated society that will not permit her to be anything short of ‘pure’ and ‘angelic’. Lydia, thus, rebels against Regency constructions of femininity in a major way. Perhaps most importantly, her rebellion is never punished for after her elopement with Wickham (one of the most radical acts at a time were female purity before matrimony was near-sacred) she returns still “untamed, unabashed” and “fearless” (181). Therefore, Lydia Bennet, as I will argue, can be considered far more than just the comic side character of the “silliest [girl] in the country” (18), in fact she might well be the real ‘feminist heroine’ of Pride and Prejudice.
The tale of the four March sisters and their journey to womanhood, intended as a moral guidebook ... more The tale of the four March sisters and their journey to womanhood, intended as a moral guidebook for girls, might seem, on the surface, innocent and conformist enough. Yet, Alcott’s inclusion of the serious topic of war into the genre of ‘Children’s Literature’ hints at unresolved conflicts and resentments that are brewing just below the shimmering surface. Indeed, I contend that the Civil War becomes important in Little Women in two major ways: first of all, it is of a metaphorical significance for the young protagonists’ own inner ‘Civil Wars’ as they must come to terms with their maturation into womanhood, in a society where their gender might prove (as it does for Jo) a “disappointment” (6). For Alcott’s little “pilgrims” their femininity seems, indeed, a heavy “burden” to bear (18) and though there are few instances of outright dissent the Civil War as metaphor allows for expression of repressed pain and resentment. Simultaneously, the novel also illustrates how the extreme situation of the (historically real) Civil War may have provided, briefly, a chance for women’s agency and liberation.
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the Victorian era is represented in Waters’ novel. While the “madness” for which Sue (as Maud) is confined to the asylum is merely a sham, what I am going to focus on is the Victorian phenomenon of female hysteria and how Maud in Fingersmith actually exhibits disordered symptoms which at the time may have been considered a sign of hysteria.
Tammy Kaye
Drawing on the findings of Susan Bordo – who, in her book, Unbearable Weight, Feminism, Western Culture, and the Body, explores to what extent predominantly female nervous disorders (just like the very construct of the female body) can be seen as “constituted by culture” (Foucault qtd. in Bordo 142) - I am going to argue, that hysteria – contrary to Victorian psychiatrist beliefs – can be considered the result, not of women’s physical and mental “fragility”, but rather of the era’s problematic conception of femininity.1 As I will demonstrate, the example of Maud (who was brought up within the rules and restrictions common to Victorian upper-class femininity) illustrates how women, in a culture that sought to control and censure the female body, might have internalized these anxieties about their own bodies that then manifested themselves in the physical symptoms of hysteria.
Furthermore, I will discuss how Waters portrayal of Maud shows her hysteric symptoms to be not only caused by, but actually compliant with, Victorian social norms, and thus can be said to refute that notion in feminist discourse which glorifies hysteria as a form of proto-feminist protest. Rather than descend into futile madness, Waters’ protagonists by the end of the novel can be said to have found a much more effective way of resisting social control of their bodies. For, to accept their lesbian sexuality allows them, not only to embrace their own as well as the other’s body, but also to defy Victorian society’s narrow definition of femininity in the style of what feminist writers such as Monique Wittig have championed by proclaiming that a lesbian is not a woman (Wittig 2020).
Frequently overlooked as little more than Elizabeth Bennet’s annoying little sister, Lydia is not always characterized in the most favorable terms: “vain, ignorant, idle, and absolutely uncontrolled” and “the most determined flirt that ever made herself or her family ridiculous” (Austen 135), are just some of the choice words her sister uses to describe her. However, I find, that these seemingly negative attributes are precisely what make Lydia a progressive female character as they radically break with the expectations on proper femininity at the time. Her vanity, for instance, can also be interpreted as valuable self-confidence at a time where modesty demanded women to be almost afraid of their own bodies. Similarly, her “idle” and ”uncontrolled” (135) tastes for pleasure and entertainment are significant when women were expected to be silent, self-sacrificing beings. Her Ignorance, too, also renders her ignorant of many of society’s oppressive norms, allowing her to act and speak her mind unabashedly. Finally, for a woman to be a “flirt” (135) and freely express her sexual desires can really only be considered negative in an antiquated society that will not permit her to be anything short of ‘pure’ and ‘angelic’. Lydia, thus, rebels against Regency constructions of femininity in a major way. Perhaps most importantly, her rebellion is never punished for after her elopement with Wickham (one of the most radical acts at a time were female purity before matrimony was near-sacred) she returns still “untamed, unabashed” and “fearless” (181). Therefore, Lydia Bennet, as I will argue, can be considered far more than just the comic side character of the “silliest [girl] in the country” (18), in fact she might well be the real ‘feminist heroine’ of Pride and Prejudice.
the Victorian era is represented in Waters’ novel. While the “madness” for which Sue (as Maud) is confined to the asylum is merely a sham, what I am going to focus on is the Victorian phenomenon of female hysteria and how Maud in Fingersmith actually exhibits disordered symptoms which at the time may have been considered a sign of hysteria.
Tammy Kaye
Drawing on the findings of Susan Bordo – who, in her book, Unbearable Weight, Feminism, Western Culture, and the Body, explores to what extent predominantly female nervous disorders (just like the very construct of the female body) can be seen as “constituted by culture” (Foucault qtd. in Bordo 142) - I am going to argue, that hysteria – contrary to Victorian psychiatrist beliefs – can be considered the result, not of women’s physical and mental “fragility”, but rather of the era’s problematic conception of femininity.1 As I will demonstrate, the example of Maud (who was brought up within the rules and restrictions common to Victorian upper-class femininity) illustrates how women, in a culture that sought to control and censure the female body, might have internalized these anxieties about their own bodies that then manifested themselves in the physical symptoms of hysteria.
Furthermore, I will discuss how Waters portrayal of Maud shows her hysteric symptoms to be not only caused by, but actually compliant with, Victorian social norms, and thus can be said to refute that notion in feminist discourse which glorifies hysteria as a form of proto-feminist protest. Rather than descend into futile madness, Waters’ protagonists by the end of the novel can be said to have found a much more effective way of resisting social control of their bodies. For, to accept their lesbian sexuality allows them, not only to embrace their own as well as the other’s body, but also to defy Victorian society’s narrow definition of femininity in the style of what feminist writers such as Monique Wittig have championed by proclaiming that a lesbian is not a woman (Wittig 2020).
Frequently overlooked as little more than Elizabeth Bennet’s annoying little sister, Lydia is not always characterized in the most favorable terms: “vain, ignorant, idle, and absolutely uncontrolled” and “the most determined flirt that ever made herself or her family ridiculous” (Austen 135), are just some of the choice words her sister uses to describe her. However, I find, that these seemingly negative attributes are precisely what make Lydia a progressive female character as they radically break with the expectations on proper femininity at the time. Her vanity, for instance, can also be interpreted as valuable self-confidence at a time where modesty demanded women to be almost afraid of their own bodies. Similarly, her “idle” and ”uncontrolled” (135) tastes for pleasure and entertainment are significant when women were expected to be silent, self-sacrificing beings. Her Ignorance, too, also renders her ignorant of many of society’s oppressive norms, allowing her to act and speak her mind unabashedly. Finally, for a woman to be a “flirt” (135) and freely express her sexual desires can really only be considered negative in an antiquated society that will not permit her to be anything short of ‘pure’ and ‘angelic’. Lydia, thus, rebels against Regency constructions of femininity in a major way. Perhaps most importantly, her rebellion is never punished for after her elopement with Wickham (one of the most radical acts at a time were female purity before matrimony was near-sacred) she returns still “untamed, unabashed” and “fearless” (181). Therefore, Lydia Bennet, as I will argue, can be considered far more than just the comic side character of the “silliest [girl] in the country” (18), in fact she might well be the real ‘feminist heroine’ of Pride and Prejudice.