Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Fuller's Woman in the Nineteenth Century

I’ve been doing a lot of reading this week, but rather than address all of the texts, I think I’ll stick to one: Margaret Fuller’s Woman in the Nineteenth Century (1845). Inspired by (and including large parts of) her essay, “The Great Lawsuit: Man versus Men, Woman versus Women” published in The Dial in 1843, Woman in the Nineteenth Century explores at greater length issues of marriage, religious and intellectual freedom, and the true desires of women. Fuller directly addresses her readers, often pinpointing and chastising her male audience, other times appealing to her female readers (especially young women). These addresses have received much critical attention, making Fuller a favorite among Women’s Rhetoric and performance studies scholars (see Sandra Gustafson’s “Choosing a Medium” for a good rhetorical analysis of Fuller’s sentimental performativity in relation to the Feminist movement). There are moments, however, that Fuller addresses neither men nor women specifically and merely targets the individual reader, uniting the desires of each gender in her refusal to address them separately. I found these moments some of the most interesting, mainly because it’s hard to know who Fuller expects to affect change; the agency is difficult to determine, projecting responsibility onto both men and women.

In a particular passage, which I plan to discuss here, Fuller assess the desires of women, laying bare typical assumptions about female wants and needs: “It is not the transient breath of poetic incense that women want; each can receive that from a lover” (38). Interestingly, the social narrative detailing women’s wants hasn’t changed much since Fuller’s 1845 composition. If you google “what women want,” you’ll end up with some pretty unsavory results. Our contemporary definition of the “transient breath of poetic incense” is a little more graphic than depictions in the 19th Century, to be sure, but the idea that women gain fulfillment from men remains true in contemporary projections of female desire. Most images of feminine beauty and desire are the products of a hetero-normative, masculine driven ideas; a lover’s “poetic incense” is a direct manifestation of the dominant patriarchal culture. But thankfully, Fuller is clarifying for reader that these profusions of romantic love aren’t on her list of feminine desires. In fact, she marks these things as easily accessible—“each can receive that from a lover”—and because they can be so easily attained, they’re no longer desirable. Fuller goes on to say that if a woman does want these things she “needs but to becomes a coquette, a shrew, or a good cook, to be sure of that,” adeptly showing all presumed feminine desires in their true light: as socially constructed negative stereotypes. Except for the “good cook,” which I found puzzling. It’s almost as though Fuller takes a prized feminine role (the culinary domestic) and groups it with socially despised feminine behaviors (a coquette and shrew) to point out that these negative feminine roles developed from the same masculine desires that demonize them.

Women also don’t want economic gain, fame, or societal positions: “It is not money, nor notoriety, nor the badges of authority that men have appropriated to themselves.” Fuller continues saying, “If demands, made in their behalf, lay stress on any of these particulars, those who make them have not searched deeply into the need.” It is this particular line that made me pause for a moment. I initially thought that Fuller must be referring to white men, highlighting them as not only the societal group most out of touch with true feminine desires but also the group with the most power and thus capable of advocating for women’s rights. But as I re-read the passage, I realized that it’s not exactly clear, which is noteworthy given Fuller’s tendency to directly address her intended audience. It seems that women, too, could be mistaken about their desires; advocating for all American women of the time period, female activists working for women’s rights to positions of power or fair wages have misplaced their efforts. According to Fuller, there’s something more important—more desirable: “It is for that which is the birthright of every being capable to receive it, -- the freedom, the religious, the intelligent freedom of the universe, to use its means; to learn its secret as far as nature had enabled them, with God along for their guide and their judge” (38). Fuller believes that freedom transcends social constructions and cultural markers of equality. “Every being capable to receive it” should be able to tap into the power of the universe. It’s obvious that, at this point, Fuller’s discussion of women’s rights/desires had transformed into a discussion of the true desires of humanity. Or what should be the true desires of humanity, according to Fuller. The fact that she simply addresses her audience in general (rather than distinguishing between her male and female readers) take on a new importance here: if we continue to think in terms of “man” and “woman,” separating their rights and desires, then we hinder the development of human rights. A preoccupation with gendered differences distorts the larger mission. Of course, Fuller goes on to debate the inequitable power dynamics of marriage and criticizes institution for oppressing women, so it’s not like she’s blind to gendered oppression. Her focus on human rights to universal freedom seems like a long-term goal.

Interestingly, Fuller’s argument that a focus on gender distracts us from larger goals is common today among those who wish to ditch feminism in favor or “humanism.” And those transitioning from Women’s Studies to Gender Studies seem to use similar logic. I understand the need to advocate for universal human rights, but large-scale social movements cannot happen in one fell swoop. We have to break up the work into manageable pieces, working together and yet separately. Moreover, the decision to ignore women’s rights in lieu of human rights assumes that women have achieved all their universal, global, social, and individual desires. And we all know that’s not the case. It seems like rather than focusing on one or the other, we must focus on both.

1 comment:

  1. I really enjoyed this piece about Fuller, especially in light of what I have read this week for this blog and for my other classes. To illustrate, I have been reading lots of feminist theory this week, especially about "difference", which means any feminism that is not the WASP feminism that often is privileged over other feminisms. I have also been reading exams about early British literature, and have been shocked and disappointed that undergraduate students are very quick to castigate Lady Bertilak and Morgan le Faye in _Sir Gawain and the Green Knight_ or Alison, the Wife of Bath, and Emily of _The Canterbury Tales_ as either the classic Temptress Eve or Chaste Mary stereotype. (And according to the Wife of Bath, women just want control of their husbands--body, soul, and bank account--which isn't what I really want!) And lastly I have been reading Marion Harland who proclaims that she is not a feminist and yet she supported herself by her pen and positioned herself as an authority for many other women (which I will write about in my own posting). But truly, reflecting on all this, and your quote about women just wanting some very basic but essential rights--the freedom to create--really that is what I want. I want freedom from the dishes so I can write, freedom from monetary constraints so I can read, and the freedom to create in whatever capacity I choose, whether it be to bake a loaf of bread, to write a story, or to watch a sunset. Again, I really enjoyed this posting. Thanks!

    ReplyDelete