I have missed my posting regimen. But it’s good to be back. Going forward, I hope to keep you updated, if not daily, then at least once or twice a week. It has become a busy time for me. Depending on your point of view, this may not be ideal, or perhaps its all quite positive.
Mr Wolf is not knocking on my door. Yet. But I sometimes smell his hot breath close by. While I remain irritated by over-bearing outdoor noises, such as hooting auto mobiles and blaring alarms, raucous revellers celebrating who knows what and the howling south east wind, I am not always alert. Fingers, my cat, is. She has that uncanny ability to hear and smell anything from a distance. So, when her head shoots up, then I know something may be amiss. Thankfully, this is seldom.
Fingers is not the cat’s real name, I can’t remember it. It’s a sweet, exotic name, that much I know. But I call her Fingers because of her eccentric habit of clawing on my settee and chairs instead of applying her feline habits to the trees outside. But, truth be told, she is a small cat and is often accosted by awful-looking alley cats after tail. Some of them have homes, but it seems that neither they nor their custodians care. Anyway, we care. And, believe it or not, we care about you too. It’s also touching to know that some of you care about us too.
I am at my wit’s end trying to secure work that really matters. And work that pays our bills, particularly madam’s toiletries and her particular brand of biscuits. As late as last year, I sourced a manual aptly titled The Perfect CV. True to its word, it defies all conventions and explains in detail how you go about targeting, pursuing and securing your dream job. Or more accurately, your chosen career, Perhaps even your calling. In my case, I find that what I have chosen to do for a living does fit well with other worth-while causes. One of my first freelance assignments for clients in the good old U S of A was pleasurably completed with a flourish.
But, there was irony in this job. The client is a community activist who, in this case, wanted to remind unscrupulous landlords of their duties towards their good tenants. I am a model tenant. My little home needs work. Lots of it. A story for another day. Turns out that after days and weeks of wondering why no-one calls me in response to my quests for work, I was on the right track. The other day I walked into a book store close by and walked directly to the store manager. I had often wondered subconsciously why she had watched me so intently before.
Now I know why. She’s a good-looking woman, mind you. Reminding me of Ingrid Bergman, she has attractive Germanic features not unlike those of many women indigenous to Cape Town. I asked her whether her boss had received my letter and resume in good working order.
“Yes. He did. He sent it out to all of our branches. And he sent me your résumé too.”
“And, so what did you think. Was it of any value? And perhaps you can tell me why I had not heard from your boss?”
I was polite and well-mannered as always. All she could do was roll her eyes as if to say, “You know.” Anyway, there are no vacancies at this time. But, yes, my résumé was quite good actually. The store manager was delighted to learn that I am an avid and knowledgeable reader. She did not elaborate any further than that, but did express her frustration in dealing with delightful staff members who neither read, nor have the compunction to do so, nor have any basic knowledge of her store and its prized contents. And it seems that this store manager has to do just about everything herself.
All I did was offer to help out. Anyway, I have family members in the advertising business. I am quite familiar with their impetuous clients, having had to service, let us just say for now “crappy clients” for years on end myself. Speaking directly to ad men and women worth their salt, I empathise with them, but with reservations. But imagine how proud I felt when I completed my first copywriting assignment and was awarded a fairly lucrative contract, given the circumstances.
Time flies. I wanted to tell you about a few other more significant events happening in my (not yet) rewarding life as a writer and editor. Can it wait until another day? I’ll try to tell you more then.
Why are men obsessed? And what is meant by the male gaze? I’ll try to explain, I’ve given it some thought. I found a few examples from literary texts, the theatre and film. By now, you know that women, feminists in particular, have responded to this male gaze. Since the concept of feminism was first discussed, there have been many responses to how or why men stare at women. Or place them on a pedestal for their own delight. I have cited just two examples which resonated for me; Eve Ensler and Glenn Close. Most of you know Glenn Close who I last saw in the television series, Damages, in which she plays the cut-throat lawyer Patti Hewes who takes male corporate giants down for their corrupt misdeeds. Then there is Eve Ensler who revolutionised (women’s) theatre with her interactive and provocative ream of The Vagina Monologues.
Because he is such a giant in theatre, I also sourced the works of Athol Fugard. I just knew I was going to find something amongst his plays which shows solidarity towards women, rather than subject them to the eyes of men.
Since the advent of Greek philosophy, the male has been dominant in shaping what society think of themselves as human beings and particularly how the feminine half of society is perceived. Speaking as an African for a moment, I may add that perceptions of the female are not confined to Western philosophy. Patriarchy remains dominant and still influences our thought and perceptions.
But many here prefer to continue blaming Western philosophical thought for the way we continue to perceive notions of womanhood. Even feminists, according to Abrams, continue to rely on male-centred thought to define themselves. Three important concepts which influence feminist thought, namely the patriarchal nature of Western society, the construction of gender and the dominance of patriarchy over the literary canon which stretches across over two hundred years.
Most of what Abrams says is true, but significant strides have been made in countering the so-called male gaze. In contrast to the difficulty that American feminists experienced in creating an alternative, numerous contributions have been made by a few female theorists. In the written introduction to her innovative and ground-breaking play, The Vagina Monologues, Eve Ensler shares her own personal experiences with her audience and readers. She explains what motivated her to begin a process of devising an original theatrical concept which responds in your face to male dominance and the subsequent abuse that it carries with it. She tells us that she is a unique individual, independent and uninhibited. While she likes strutting about in the nude, she points out that she was abused sexually by her father.
Eve Ensler’s crusade in the name of freedom for women led her to a global journey which included interviews with many women with different views of their experiences and an acute observance of societies and how they perceive women. Reading the introduction to her play, we learn that Ensler has been successful. She shares the positive responses she received from her (mostly) female audiences;
“The play had somehow freed up their (repressed) memories, pain and desire. Night after night I heard the same stories – women being raped as teenagers, in college, as little girls, as elderly women who had finally escaped being beaten to death by their husbands…”
When I was still doing a course in Advanced Theory of Drama, the modulator for this course simply vanished. No reasons were given for her disappearance. Anyway, she left us with some of her own thoughts on the male gaze. She believed that the male gaze can best be described by studying the way in which “traditional love narratives” are created. She pointed out that the female is “never the subject, but the object.” I disagree. The female does emerge as subject (and the male as desired, sexual object) in which she also rises to become the narrative plot’s heroine.
We know that men do look actively at their passive female subjects. Such habits cannot be overturned overnight. It is part of our human nature which has evolved rather slowly since the dawn of humankind (not mankind) when men were the hunter-gatherers while their opposites were nurturers based solely at home. But, Ensler does not attempt to overturn such fallacies for better or worse. Rather, she offers support and solidarity towards those women who struggle to adapt and cope in a society dominated by men. She focuses on how women perceive themselves and encourages them not to be influenced by what male-centred society thinks about them.
There have been a number of feminist theatre critics who have understandably disagreed with Ensler’s work, but I believe that she has ultimately succeeded in her mission to empower women. Indeed, our erstwhile lecturer pointed out to us that Ensler’s play “is in accordance with international feminism which seeks to find common ground between women of different backgrounds.” And, the use of different accents in The Vagina Monologues is, to my mind, effective, because it presents the audience with a realistic and always creative interpretation of women’s experiences.
Culturally speaking, women are, of course, still drawn towards social conventions such as the wearing of make-up, but I believe that this has more to do with how the naturally passive woman wishes to see herself and how she feels about herself as a woman.
One feminist critic, Macdonald, gave a critical definition of the male gaze when thinking of the way women have been conventionally portrayed in both theatre and film;
“The male gaze persists in theatre, for the art form continues to favour male experience and, more often than not, depicts women in relation to men – either as objects of desire or as dependent on male interaction for self-revelation.”
Sad to say, but this is true. Two well-known American actresses come to mind here. Sharon Stone defines herself as an independent, opinionated woman, but, unlike Glenn Close, seems unable to emancipate herself from the prying eyes of men. Stone is better known for her role as the flawed, sexually deviant novelist in Basic Instinct, while Glenn Close played a psychologically damaged woman in FatalAttraction. Interestingly, both movies starred American actor, Michael Douglas, who was defined as an extreme example of the alpha male. But, after his critically acclaimed performance as Liberace in Behind the Candelabra, Douglas has now made a positive contribution to overturning conventional perceptions.
Glenn Close is recognised for contributions towards female emancipation. Ensler mentions her part in “Vagina Occurances” where Close famously encourages 2,500 people to stand and chant the word ‘cunt’. Close is also remembered in her acting role in the screen adaptation of Simone Benmussa’s playThe Singular Life of Albert Nobbs. In this part, Close transforms her female personage into an androgynous character to foreground the problem of achieving gainful employment in a patriarchal society.
And, Glenn Close’s leading role in Serving in Silence: The Margarethe Cammermeyer Story is significant because this television drama is based on the true story of Colonel Cammermeyer’s quest for justice after the US army discharges her from serving because of her honesty in declaring (not acknowledging) that she was lesbian.
In South African theatre, Athol Fugard challenges Macdonald’s staunch criticism of the male gaze. Although such works are still in the minority, Fugard overturns the abusive and exploitative tendencies of the male towards his female “other” in his Port Elizabeth Plays. In Boesman and Lena, the female protagonist must overcome, and does overcome the abuse she suffers at the hand of her equally-impoverished male partner. In Hello and Goodbye Hester Smit’s flawed character, sexually promiscuous and working as a prostitute, does not prevent her from overcoming the neglect she suffers at the hand of both her father and brother.
It appears that men will continue to ogle women for some time to come. But, so too, women will continue to rise to their rightful place as equals among men. Power to you, woman.
Once upon a time in a little English town, Jane Austen wrote a story about being lonely, never finding the perfect gentleman and how difficult it can be to swallow one’s pride and admit when one has made mistakes. She wrote about falling in love. If you are an avid lover of Jane Austen’s precise prose then you know that this story is universal. Since her story was first published in 1815 many young ladies have endured in her shadow, crafting their own stories of loss and love. I would hate to admit that Mills and Boon and Dame Barbara Cartland fall into this category, but there you go.
Ms Austen set her story in Regency England. She created Emma Woodhouse, a young, beautiful and privileged woman living on the fictionalised estate of Hartfield somewhere in Surrey in the village of Highbury. Her future paramour, George Knightley, lives on the large estate of Donwell close to her home. Mr Knightley, at the turn of the nineteenth century, exemplifies the modern, male lover, madly in love with Miss Emma, but never afraid to criticise her inept endeavours at matchmaking. Well, at least she had a passion for something and was not afraid to restrict herself as a woman in accordance with the times. Certainly, her father, a reclusive hypochondriac, is in no position to detain her.
Ms Austen follows the lead of the bard by creating a comedy of errors. What drew me closer to her protagonist was the vulnerable state of her heart, something which she stubbornly never admits to. Only Mr Knightley can rescue her from such a state. And thankfully Miss Emma Woodhouse never knows this until the novel’s closing pages. Otherwise we wouldn’t have a story, no? Emma is confidently described as a modern romance some one hundred years after the first book was bound. She certainly has the traits of a modern woman, because she is utterly bored in her role as lady of Hartfield Estate.
“I am going to take a heroine whom no-one but myself will much like.”
Well, she was being modest, wasn’t she? While Emma irritated the innoble male reader from time to time, he grew to like her after all. He could relate to her fears of intimacy in a confined environment. He understood her desire to keep busy with schemes such as match-making to divert attention from the true state of her heart. Unlike her subjects, his attraction is not entirely related to the heart. Perhaps it was money? He learns from Ms Austen that Emma is;
“Handsome, clever and rich. A single woman, with a very narrow income, must be a ridiculous, disagreeable old maid! The proper sport of boys and girls; but a single woman of good fortune, is always respectable, and may be as sensible and pleasant as anybody else.”
Well, at least she can do as she wishes, but I am no fan of aristocracies and wasn’t at all impressed with the way she kept herself aloof from the locals. Shame, poor lonely little rich girl. On the grounds of Highbury she only has Mr and Miss Bates and Mrs Goddard for company. At least she could lose herself in the lush grounds, thinking of her past, present and future. Her father, Mr Woodhouse, dare I say, is a right old pain in the arse, always nervous and depressed. The fact that he’s old is no excuse. After all, he’s loaded. Or is he? At least he enjoyed his daily walks.
Now, if you thought Emma was a snob, well, you hadn’t met Mrs Wilson yet. But, at least she had noticed that Mr Woodhouse’s moaning and groaning habits were hindering his poor daughter. And the weather, typical English weather you might say, was always gloomy. Here, Ms Austen has, however, created a marvellous metaphor for Emma’s own melancholia. I suspected at one point that the poor girl may even be lesbian, not that there’s anything the matter with it. But we learn that she merely has a homophillic affection for young Miss Harriet Smith. At one point I thought that Emma was smothering the poor child with her superior intellect and high morals, but it was nothing of the sort. I could also relate to Emma’s lack of self-esteem.
During the early twentieth century, the literary critic, Marvin Mudrick, has the audacity to say this about our beloved Emma Woodhouse; that she was an “unlikeable heroine and latent lesbian, incapable of committing herself in normal relationships.” I understand what he was trying to say, but how cruel, because then the literary pratt goes on to say that Emma is an “imaginist, moved to play God without tenderness or caution, making the worst of every situation, imagining evil where there is good and good where there is nothing but an extension of self. Emma, wanting in altruism and sympathy, must have admirers to confirm her position.” What a pretentious toff!
Perhaps Mudrick heard us. He concludes his analogy of Emma’s character;
“We sympathise with Emma because she must fall in love, and we know that she will.”
But then Richard Simpson had this to say about our heroine; she is a “young lady full of preconceived ideas not borrowed from the traditional romance of poets and novelists which are the product of our own reflections upon our mental powers”.
In the end, I may be as forthright as Mudrick and Emma’s future lover and hero, Knightley who did not mince his words when remarking on her;
“She is spoilt, the cleverest in her family, quick, assured and the mistress of her house. In her mother she has lost the only person able to cope with her. She inherits her mother’s talents, and must have been under subjection to her.”
Knightley, who knew Emma’s family intimately, understands Emma’s behaviour which may explain her fear of commitment and her father’s self-centred opposition to marriage. But only in anguish does she support the high sacrament of marriage as she earnestly goes about her business of setting one with the other. While she shuns marriage for herself, she subconsciously yearns to be married, no different from genteel young women of her society with similar aspirations. So, she is not entirely a true libertarian, or latent feminist then.
If you must know, Mr Knightly is the oldest and wisest of Jane Austen’s male mentors. He is serious, strong and even good looking. He speaks with authority and is actually extremely kind. Gosh, could I not be like him. He is a credible and likeable character. He has a sense of humour and is also vulnerable. Another English literary critic, Wayne Booth, describes Knightley as the most morally reliable character in the whole (bloody) novel! That’s saying a lot for the rest of the cast. But, Mr Knightley does bring about Emma’s redemption and rescues her from loneliness within a confining and unstimulating environment. He has the most concern for her welfare;
“I should like to see Emma in love, and in some doubt of a return; it would do her good. But there is nobody hereabouts to attach her; and she goes so seldom from home.”
Intellectually superior to the characters of Highbury, towering above all and sundry, he is not repressed and restricted as Emma is. He is acutely more observant. Knightly encourages forgiveness of Emma’s mistakes. He brings two lovers, Harriet Smith and the farmer, Robert Martin, together.
“In her carriage with the depressed and silent Harriet Smith Emma felt the tears running down her cheeks almost all the way home, without being at any trouble to check them, extraordinary as they were.”
“Emma is confirmed and checked. Her turning point is reached. She is consciously carried some way toward self-knowledge.” She is redeemed. Hooray! Emma is in love. Lionel Trilling advised that sentimental sexuality is not part of her nature. She chooses her husband wisely, seriously and eagerly. A modern woman indeed. It is dancing that romantically brings Emma and Knightley together. Well, somethings don’t always change, although how do men and woman hitch up these days? Perhaps it is a peculiar coincidence, but I met all three of my last mates on the dance floor. And I can’t dance to save my own life!
Emma remains in love as she ponders Knightley’s proposal of marriage. On a first name basis, their union is sealed. R Simpson observes; “The platonic ideal is realised, not merely through heart, but through intelligence.” Complex in personality and nature, heralded above her peers, Emma willingly acknowledges her errors and graciously opens her heart to Knightley. The dreamed of union with a true, genteel country gentleman is formed. Knightley is above everyone throughout the novel, and Emma’s openness towards him brings his love for her to fruition.
Emma rises above her station and Knightley matches her in conversation, rational or playful. Her circumstances justify her unruly behaviour and she is deserving of her hero. She is deserving of her own status as a heroine. Only Jane Austin could have pulled off such a masterful transformation. We, as readers, are encouraged to revel in her complex creation, even though it is yet another caricature of her own self.
In the truest sense Jane Austen masterfully transforms her anti-heroine into a heroine, encouraging the reader to revel in her complex creation, yet another caricature of her own self. A past lecturer of mine, Michael Williams, asked us to take note of Austen’s version of the flexible medium. But, I don’t think I was alone in this, I was always drawn to Miss Woodhouse and Mr Knightley’s feelings, particularly for each other. Some years before I first read through a full anthology of Jane Austen’s novels, beginning that journey with Pride and Prejudice, I had a favourite song in mind. When I completed my first reading of Emma, George Harrison’s song, although entirely unrelated, reminded me of Emma Woodhouse.
As I closed the book, I rejoiced at this true meeting of minds. In heart, body and soul.
Mark Whelan 