Hey, you know what we haven’t had around here in a while? One of my semi annual long rambly feminist rants. About time, I think.
A little while back, Emily posted this in response to my musings on enjoying the things we don’t have to do.
I think something else that’s going on, at least in Anne and the other L.M. Montgomery books, is that they really valorize a particular kind of intellectually dreamy yet physically adventurous, almost tomboy-ish girl, and that type of girl (as portrayed) is unlikely to enjoy a quiet, non-narrative activity like sewing. I find that in many novels about girls there is this idea that the main character is interesting because she’s different from other girls – and sewing/knitting is often the shorthand indicator for boring feminine normalcy. So often the “dull” girls are content sitting still and sewing, whereas you can tell the “interesting” girls because they like to read and to be outside, roaming over the prairie/dale/moor (Callie Woodlawn, Scout Finch, and Jane Eyre also leap to mind). Which is interesting and problematic, in terms of discounting the traditionally feminine & claiming that girls are only interesting if they’re more like traditional boys.
Good points, all, and they stayed in my brain and affected my interpretation of my recent reading choices.
Some years back I wrote the very, very messy first draft of a novel, and I’ve been trying unsuccessfully to edit it ever since. Recently, it occurred to me that what my novel most needed was a good dose of noir and mystery. There is a mystery central to the plot, but the writing about it was so unfocused that it never became cohesive. Reading the works of masters of detective fiction has become a major project for me of late.
So after reviewing Hammett for a while and moving on to Agatha Christie and Raymond Chandler, it hit me that I had never read a Nancy Drew book. Nancy Drew was the commercial creation of Edward Stratemeyer, the successful publisher of the popular Hardy Boys mystery books. Stratemeyer was a decided anti-feminist, but he was an even more decided capitalist, and when he realized that girls were purchasing the Hardy Boys books, he saw an opportunity to make money in the person of a girl detective. Thus was Nancy Drew born.
Since Nancy Drew was entirely a commercial enterprise, her incarnations have changed somewhat over the years to suit the vagaries of different times and attitudes. The byline Carolyn Keene is as much a fiction as Nancy herself; all books were ghostwritten. In 1959, the earliest Nancy Drew books were reworked to suit changing cultural attitudes toward race. It has been written that much of Nancy’s personality was stripped out at this time as well, but since my library only had the rewritten novels, I can’t personally confirm or deny this. I can tell you that the solution to the racial insensitivies seems to have been to strip all references to non white characters from the books entirely.
Nancy presents an interesting counter and confirmation to the issue brought up by Emily. Nancy has all the feminine accomplishments suitable to a young lady of her times, and what’s more, she enjoys them. In one of the books I read, Nancy arranged a bouquet of flowers that she had grown herself and then, much to her surprise of course, won first prize at a local garden show with her arrangement. She sews, she has fabulous fashion sense, she probably knits, though she didn’t in either of the books I read. Nancy is independent, confident, capable, and wholesome.
And she’s an absolute bore. The character is more static than any I’ve read in a long, long time. Already practically perfect, there’s no real need for Nancy to grow. She exhibits none of the endearingly human foibles that the rest of us experience. Anne Shirley, though also practically perfect in her own way, shows temper and makes mistakes repeatedly. Nancy has no time for mistakes. She must solve the mystery, at her own expense, without reward, and on her own initiative, because she is just that amazingly perfect and wonderful all the freaking time.
It was easy to see what about Nancy appealed to young women, though. Nancy manages to straddle the uncomfortable line between left and right in the United States, and she does so with aplomb. Nancy is independent, confident, trusted by the men in her life, and while she shows consideration for others, she is also very much whole in herself, so much so that her faithful boyfriend, Ned, seems rather limp and dependent in comparison. At the same time, she has the traditionally feminine qualities already mentioned, and the respect she shows others, as well as the individual charity, tends to appeal to the politically conservative. Nancy’s role is traditional and feminist at the same time, making her a fairly unique figure in children’s literature.
I’d rather read Hammett, but there’s something to be said about this wooden archetype who inspired Supreme Court justices and First Ladies. In an odd way, Nancy is closer to my particular brand of feminism than the heroines I’ve enjoyed and admired more. I’m an ardent feminist who lives a fairly conservative life. I’ve been a stay at home mother to three kids for a good long time now. While I currently attend school and work, most of my adult life has been wrapped up in traditionally feminine pursuits. It has been occasionally asked of me how I, a stay at home mom who loves to cook and knit, who has spent many occasions literally barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen, can call myself a feminist.
I suppose we all must decide for ourselves. If someone wishes to think me a bad feminist for living my life this way, that is his or her prerogative. To me, though, feminism is not about disparaging the traditionally feminine. It is about upholding the rights of women to make choices for themselves. It is not just about those choices. We can make choices that are decidedly unfeminist and antifeminist, but the right to make those choices for ourselves is a feminist cause. I believe in the rights of women to determine their own courses, to have as level a playing field as is possible in a world where we all differ in talent, ability, and inheritance. I don’t believe in allowing other women to decide for me based on what they believe is best for women, whether that view is one of women in traditionally feminine roles or women in traditionally masculine roles. Ideally, we carve out our own place based on our own needs, and yes, our own desires.
Nancy Drew, girl detective, practically perfect in every way, is not a perfect symbol of feminism, but in some ways, she comes close, and for that, she has my interest.
