Feminist Frustrations

Sometimes, I enjoy frightening people by carrying around thick copies of The Madwoman in the Attack along with 800 page volumes of feminist theory. Contrary to popular assumption, feminism does not always mean men-hating, bra-burning, bushy warrior princesses taking over the world. In the context of literary studies, feminism looks for the portrayal of equality and the balance of power between genders in a piece of literature.

It’s something that I’ve grown increasingly hypersensitive to over the past three years of college. When I read a book or watch a movie, bright neon signs blink in my brain: “Madonna v. Whore,” “Masculine Gaze,” “Objectification.”

While all these warning signals flash, I still want to believe in happily ever after—alright, that’s a stretch. How about just love and marriage? So when I wrote my feminist interpretation of Pride and Prejudice last week, I wanted to analyze the egalitarianism and love which champions over mercenary marriages. But feminism frustrates me because it seems to always find something wrong with the picture.

As I sat in my professor’s office, hoping for my happy ending, I watched him mark my paper and wrinkle his brow.

“But what?” He turned to me and slid the twelve typed sheets across his desk.

“What’s what?” I asked.

Then I proceeded to realize that while everything looks rosy, the pessimistic feminist could read further into the novel. Darcy fixes his male gaze on Elizabeth in ballrooms and parlors. Darcy is the real agent, orchestrating three Bennet matches from Lydia and Whickham to Jane and Bingley and his own marriage to Lizzy. And sure Elizabeth holds out for her ideal, but what’s to say Darcy won’t wake up one morning and return to being his formerly conceited self now that he’s won his wife?

The main feminist gripe with the text is that the novel never presents the possibility of achieving any happiness outside of marriage. Marriage remains the only option, so the female characters are desperate to make a good one. As feminism faulted the text again, I felt like lamenting. I wanted the marriage ending to be the happy ending. Why does it still imply some form of societal oppression?

Fortunately, my poor little paper was not a total loss. I reworked a few sections to end with a conflicted opinion of the novel, concluding that while it portrays an ideally equal marriage, it is still caught in the ideology of the time which requires a wedding for a finale.

Conclusion: feminist theory probably won’t present the most felicitous outcome. Also, it’s tricky to be a feminist critic and a hopeless romantic at the same time.