Jane Eyre in her day was the epitome of the Biblical Esther, and the Ancient Mythological Antigone. She was a fiesty, headstrong, woman who kept to her confines because she knew that using the boundaries that limited her, would ultimately aid her - using patriarchal power to free herself rather than bind her. In all three women, we see an agenda, fueled by personal allegiances and motives, controlled and confined by political expectations. In modern-day feminism, we argue that personal things risk the cause, that they are liabilities rather than beneficial liberties. However, for these women, the personal was their drive - to defend themselves, their people, their brother. Each of them used their femininity and the gender roles that defined them to control the men that headed their patriarchal societies.
The constant tug-of-war between freedom and restraint, their old world and their new world prevents these women from really belonging to either.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Monday, January 16, 2012
In the Beginning
Let me start by explaining my title - It's taken from the blog of Johanna Hopes, in her reading and interpretation of a book called Captivating, a piece that focuses on women and femininity through a theistic yet gender-conscious lens:
"Creation was not made perfect in the eyes of God until He created a woman. Eve. The crescendo. God’s piece de resistance. She is the master’s finishing touch."
Lovely, isn't it?
So, here I am, a young woman at Michigan State University, in a class called English 482: Seminar in Feminist Literary and Cultural Theory...And....here we go!
We're starting the semester off strong, with a critical piece by Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar: The Madwoman in the Attic. In our excerpt, the two critics begin by quoting Ms. Emily Dickinson, an eloquent favorite of mine:
"I told my Soul to sing -
She said her Strings were snapt -
Her bow - to Atoms blown -
And so to mend her - gave me work
Until another Morn-"
The attention to the Soul intrigues me, as one may have guessed by the title of my blog. For the person we choose to express and seek to validate in the Feminist sense is tied to our soul - which is simply the source of our being, complicated by and in constant conflict with the world around us and the flesh in which it abides.
That being said, Gilbert and Gubar trace Jane's journey into womanhood, from the wretched home of her Aunt, to Lowood, then Thornfield and Marsh End, or as they so bluntly put it "opression, starvation, madness and coldness," the most unpleasant of journeys that make Cindarella's stool by the fire and shameless stepsisters seem like a four-star vacation. Miss Jane is a sweet-n-sour servant, always eager to serve as means to escape whatever services bind her, yet this leads her into her own gospel of sorts - a crowning of thorns at Thornfield, as G & G point out, something I find more than slightly poignant. She seeks service, yet is always curious about things that are put either beyond her reach or lead her to abandon her rational thought for seemingly irrational quests and questions.
Realizing the randomness of my thoughts, I'll try to tie it all together by the end of the semester, with the help of our future readings, further contributions to my thoughts, and the hope of gaining some insight to add to intelligence. Until then, Adieu.
"Creation was not made perfect in the eyes of God until He created a woman. Eve. The crescendo. God’s piece de resistance. She is the master’s finishing touch."
Lovely, isn't it?
So, here I am, a young woman at Michigan State University, in a class called English 482: Seminar in Feminist Literary and Cultural Theory...And....here we go!
We're starting the semester off strong, with a critical piece by Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar: The Madwoman in the Attic. In our excerpt, the two critics begin by quoting Ms. Emily Dickinson, an eloquent favorite of mine:
"I told my Soul to sing -
She said her Strings were snapt -
Her bow - to Atoms blown -
And so to mend her - gave me work
Until another Morn-"
The attention to the Soul intrigues me, as one may have guessed by the title of my blog. For the person we choose to express and seek to validate in the Feminist sense is tied to our soul - which is simply the source of our being, complicated by and in constant conflict with the world around us and the flesh in which it abides.
That being said, Gilbert and Gubar trace Jane's journey into womanhood, from the wretched home of her Aunt, to Lowood, then Thornfield and Marsh End, or as they so bluntly put it "opression, starvation, madness and coldness," the most unpleasant of journeys that make Cindarella's stool by the fire and shameless stepsisters seem like a four-star vacation. Miss Jane is a sweet-n-sour servant, always eager to serve as means to escape whatever services bind her, yet this leads her into her own gospel of sorts - a crowning of thorns at Thornfield, as G & G point out, something I find more than slightly poignant. She seeks service, yet is always curious about things that are put either beyond her reach or lead her to abandon her rational thought for seemingly irrational quests and questions.
Realizing the randomness of my thoughts, I'll try to tie it all together by the end of the semester, with the help of our future readings, further contributions to my thoughts, and the hope of gaining some insight to add to intelligence. Until then, Adieu.
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