What Jamie Saw by Carolyn Corman

Jamie’s Violent Behavior, Unavoidable? Essentialist Feminists Would Say So. And I Disagree.

In Carolyn Corman’s What Jamie Saw, the young protagonist experiences a number of forceful outbursts preceded by maternal scolding or console. Jamie's behavior toward his mother, Patty, privileges the essentialist feminist idea that male children must assume a violent posture toward the maternal world in order to develop as men suitable for the patriarchal system (Rivkin and Ryan). Despite his gentle, loving disposition, Jamie exhibits signs that he will grow into a man who uses aggression to assuage frustration with his feelings. According to essentialist feminists (who I personally disagree with but am intrigued by), this cycle is inevitable because of the inhenrent difference between the sexes.

Patty’s role as mother nearly defines her, and the man to whom Jamie was closest is not present in his life. According to essentialists, “[This] father-absent, mother-involved nuclear family perpetuates the abuse of women” (Kahn 827). Jamie’s matriarch-centered environment typifies child-rearing-defined femininity. Since he is male, “women’s activities must be denigrated” and Jamie must base his identity on behavior other than Patty’s (829). Patty unwittingly encourages Jamie to “starve inwardly for deeper affiliation…and build his life on…aggression” (830). In addition, because Jamie is male, the stifling nearness to Patty in their womb-like trailer reviles him, as do any signs of his own likeness to Patty. This disgust causes Jamie to act out against his mother and Nin, both of whom represent the maternal world due to their gender.

[As an aside, I think that essentialist feminist theory is total bs. It is, however, written quote literally into our cultural code, and it therefor comes up in storytelling. Feminism - yes, "boys will be boys" attitudes stem from a form of feminism with roots in the 1860s - has come a long way, thank goodness. But you will still find people today who believe that men are essentially aggressive neanderthals incapable of emotion or good behavior, so the theory is far from obsolete.]

Patty unknowingly pushes her son away in order to harden the boy. After Jamie kindly suggests that he give his stuffed animal to his little sister, Patty yells at her son. “Who are you looking at?” she asks in a voice that, to Jamie, is “so mean” (Corman 67). Patty’s ability to alienate her son after his expression of tenderness validates the female tendency to push sons out of identification with themselves (Kahn 828). In retaliation toward his mother’s coldness, Jamie uses physical force. “Without thinking, without any plan at all, Jamie lunged over to the drawer [that his sister lay in] and kicked it” (Corman 68).  Jamie could have cried or pouted in response to his mother’s scolding, but instead, he kicks his sister. It is clear that Jamie’s nurturing capacities have been curtailed, and the boy uses aggression to cope with his frustration (Kahn 829). Inadvertently, Patty is producing a male who represses his feelings (835).

Left alone in the trailer during another scene, Jamie again expresses himself through aggression instead of tears or softness. Upon return from momentarily leaving her son, Patty realizes Jamie is hurt and apologetically “picks him up like he was a baby” to comfort him, “stroking his face and brushing the hair away from his eyes” (Corman 90). Because Jamie is male, this maternal tenderness stifles him. Suddenly, “Jamie understood that Patty wasn’t gone. No sooner did he know that…he pulled back and kicked her, kicked Patty with all his might” (90). These kicks represent Jamie’s hurt feelings as well as the male child’s natural disgust with closeness to the mother’s body. “The original union of mother and infant” (Kahn) must be avoided if the boy is to become a man within the patriarchy. I'm not buying that, but Jamie does sever himself from his mother and her tenderness by kicking her away, as if to say, “I must not identify with your body or nurturing behavior.”

Because of his sex, Jamie’s severance from the maternal world is a violent one, and this does not bode well for his future with women. Males, according to essentialists, "naturally" repress their emotions in order to distinguish themselves from their mothers. Because of this, Jamie will continue to kick his emotions away, sometimes violently. He will become a man incapable of tenderness, suitable for the patriarchy. (sad face)

Personally, I do not view the Jamies or the Pattys of this world as helpless. Jamie can rise above Freud's script and become a nurturing husband and father...with a little help from this thing called his brain. :) Patty, especially in this day and age, can reach out to people other than abusive men for help. Her situation is grim, and she does have limited options, but nothing is impossible with a simple shift in thinking.
good wordpress explanation of essentialism here

http://finallyfeminism101.wordpress.com/2007/05/10/faq-but-men-and-women-are-born-different-isnt-that-obvious/

Works Cited

Corman, Carolyn. What Jamie Saw. Ashville, NC: Front Street, 2008. Print.

Kahn, Coppelia. “The Hand That Rocks the Cradle.” Literary Theory: An Anthology. 2nd Ed.

Rivkin, Julie and Michael Ryan. Malden, MA: Plackwell Publishing, 1998. 826-837.

Print.

Rivkin, Julie and Michael Ryan. “Introduction: Feminist Paradigms.” Literary Theory: An

Anthology. 2nd  ed. Ed. Rivkin, Julie and Michael Ryan. Malden, MA: Plackwell Publishing, 1998. 765-769. Print.

Go and Come Back

GO AND COME BACK by Joan Abelove

Isabo Gender Norms by Krystal Skwar

Fourteen-year-old Alicia, part of the fictional Isabo culture, narrates her observations on the two "old white ladies" who come to visit her village as cultural anthropologists. (By the way, these two old white ladies are in their twenties. It's just to Alicia, their mannerisms and dress make them seem ancient.) 

Abelove herself lived in the Amazon for two years with people much like the Isabo. Despite this, her attempt to narrate through Alicia positions her as something of an imposter in my eyes. How could she presume to understand how an Amazonian girl thinks? This aside, it is a valiant attempt to shed light on some great points about gender roles. At times Alicia's narration had me laughing out loud and questioning our norms. 

My main takeaway? Isabo culture - which is meant to replicate the Amazonian tribal life Abelove studied in the 1970s - values women more than we do. Interestingly, an Isabo woman shines when traditional female domesticity is placed alongside female sexual independence. 

Who'd a thought that was possible? 

Alicia adopts a baby girl and explains her culture's gender rules to the flabbergasted American anthropologists. “Boys go off and never take care of you” in Isabo culture, so girls are more valuable to their mothers. Therefore, an Isabo woman “might kill a boy baby...but no Isabo had ever killed a girl child.”  Here, we see that in one culture girls are favored, and keeping a child is solely a woman's choice. Though Isabo women marry, the decision to keep a child or not is theirs alone. 

Extreme of the Isabo to kill baby boys, but interesting when we consider that female girls were and still are undervalued in China, to the point that there are recent accounts of baby girls found dead in wells and ditches. Abelove insinutates that morality can be relative, and this message, though tough to swallow, is one the novel clearly tries to bestow upon its readers. 

Alicia notes how strange it is that one of the "old lady" anthropologists thinks that “everything her mother did was not work." Again, it's refreshing to see that female domestic work, during some times and places in history (ok it's fiction, but based on a real people!), did not always represent subjugation and denigration of the female. In the case of the Isabo, female domestic work was valued as much as or more than men's work. 

Go and Come Back also makes sex with many partners seem natural, departing from our culture's engrained discouragement of female promiscuity. Isabo women can have multiple partners because to them sex represents a free exchange. Nothing dirty about sex outside marriage to the Isabo. Pregnant Isabo think “it’s good to have sex with a few men.” (I laughed and raised my eyebrows at that one! Ha.) Older married Isabo women have extramarital affairs, and “there are no secrets" about them. Attitudes about sex are not plauged with fear or guilt. 

Isabo women and men occupy very separate spheres. During most of the day, women are in the company of women and men are in the company of men. During the evening, everyone spends time together in the home or as a community. Somehow this separation creates a culture in which both genders enjoy a freer, more natural, and less fearful expression of their sexuality. 

The American lady anthropologists have a hard time with this at first, but eventually, they seem to admire this way of life in comparison to their own. As New York Times writer Jen Nessel put it, "Go and Come Back provides a nice antidote to the fear that surrounds sex in our culture. It has no steamy scenes of lovemaking, just matter-of-fact conversation and giggling." 

I appreciate this fresh, non-Western discourse on female sexuality and the value of housework. A novel presenting a society in which a woman can occupy a traditional, home-centered space and also be sexually uninhibited is a long time overdue in my mind. I can't honestly think of any others, unless said fictional woman is somehow damned for her behavior, or has to be secretive about it. 

Through her demonstration of the separateness, confidence, and sexual freedom of Isabo women, Abelove underscores something unique: that the written Anglo-centric history of gender is not a finite context from which to extract our ideas about yin and yang. Like Alicia's village, our time and place is just one mere wave in a sea of societies that have existed throughout history.

Works Used

Abelove, Joan. Go and Come Back. New York: Puffin Books, 1998. Print. 

Armstrong, Nancy. “Some Call It Fiction.” Literary Theory: An Anthology. 2nd ed. Ed. Rivkin, Julie and Michael Ryan. Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 1998. 567-581. Print. 

Rivkin, Julie and Michael Ryan. “Introduction: Writing the Past” Literary Theory: An Anthology. 2nd ed. Ed. Rivkin, Julie and Michael Ryan. Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 1998. 505-507. Print

Is Frozen a Feminist Triumph?

Frozen - Feminist Triumph? 


Watch the Honest Trailer...pretty funny! 

Even as a fan of Disney’s recent attempts to create more balanced, less-dependent female characters (Brave, Frozen, Maleficent), I had to laugh at the Frozen Honest Trailer's sarcastic voiceover: “Frozen is a clever twist on past Disney films that teaches girls everywhere that they don’t need a prince to rescue them…because all men are disgusting loners, greedy murderers, or lying manipulative power-hungry sociopaths. Happy now, Jezebel?”

I wouldn’t exactly call Kristoff disgusting, but that aside, I have to agree: I’m not sure I am comfortable calling Frozen a feminist triumph.

The point of feminist filmmaking is not to create one-dimensional, evil male characters responsible for humanity’s downfalls. Yes, men did that to women. Ahem…Eve. Cough...the Wicked Witch of the West. Cough...every female character Hemingway and Steinbeck ever created. 

The point of feminist literature is to try to avoid male-bashing (and woman-bashing, obvi). It’s to bring balance, but not to even the score. 

Can we also talk about Elsa’s sexy ice dress? Why must her awesome ice powers be equated with a slinky, sparkly pageant dress, a push-up bra, and seductive hip movements? And if her powers must be associated with her sexuality, then logically, shouldn’t her powers be babymaking powers? (Ok that goes a little too far…flower-making powers?) Why must her power be life-killing? Is that some kind of subliminal fear of pro-choice dominance?

Sorry. It's only a Disney movie, I know.

Let's get back to ice. I am an English teacher, so indulge me: ice is associated with stunted growth, death, repression of creativity. 

I would argue that the ice-powers Elsa receives as a budding young woman correlate to her sexuality, in the viewer's subconscious. This is why, when Elsa is around eleven, her powers suddenly become shameful and dangerous. That is why her parents "have a talk" with her about concealing the powers with ladylike gloves and the avoidance of humans.

The hands of the patriarchy, stifling Anna's creative power at puberty.

Elsa’s sexuality shows up in the form of ice-throwing and snowmaking rather than life-giving powers like say, tree-creation and climate change reversal why?

I think it is because Disney is still drawn - like a hyptnotized zombie-moth to a flame - to the subliminal degradation of female sexuality.

Through Elsa, Disney makes female sexuality this destructive (yet cool and dangerous) thing. Little girls watching it don't know this, but they do store it up there in their developing minds.

This is why I detest Disney.

"I get it now, male-dominated world. You don't like me to be sexual.
Time to destroy everyone with my repressed powers, then." 

That is how I read into it, anyhow. But I'm just a crazy woman.

Elsa grew to be ashamed and troubled by her sexual energy/ice-throwing abilities, and therefor she became miserable, isolated, and weak.

Her only choice was to “let it go” and stop “being the good girl she always had to be”…so she could do what every girl must do when she awakens sexually: Wear a revealing dress, isolate herself in an ice-castle of shame, shut the world out, and ignore men. Um...what???

I see this as problematic. If feminism is about putting female sexuality into a category, if it’s about saying “either you can be the cute funny loving girl” (Anna) or the “pageant ice-queen” (Elsa)…then don’t call me a feminist.

All of this aside, I loved the ending! Go sisterhood! That was a positive for me. 

A Single Shard by Linda Sue Park

A SINGLE SHARD by LINDA SUE PARK

Critical Rating: 4/5 stars 

Pleasure rating: 4/5 stars

Although the story dragged for me at times, this was a memorable book because of the character depth and the historical detail. The author obviously did her research, and so despite my unfamiliarity with 12th-century Korea, I felt like I was part of the world, and I left the book with an understanding of the morals and conventions of the time and place.

Tree-ear is a compelling, easy-to-adore character, and though the orphan's fate was quite discernible from the start, I enjoyed watching him rise to the challenge of presenting Min's vase. Although it arrived a bit late for me, the moment when Tree-ear had to stand up for himself, I confess, made me shed a tear or two. His journey was a beautiful one, something like Santiago's in The Alchemist or even the Buddha's journey away from home.

The episode about the concubines' suicide was poetic, but a bit disturbing. I think it's important to be honest with kids about what really happened in history, and this and other sections' brutal honesty were admirable. While this and other details felt accurate and well-researched, I am not sure how accurate it is that an orphan could rise through the ranks and become the apprentice of a respected potter in 12th-century Korea. Given the culture's focus on luck, and given the bad luck associated with orphans, it seems more likely that Tree-ear would live a life of poverty. This kept nagging me - I felt that the author was doing a little bit of imposing an American/Western "rags to riches" or "little orphan Annie" framework onto a foreign setting, and something in that felt a bit off.

However, the characters made up for it. I fell in love with Tree-ear's humble attitude, and I found myself wishing that I could see that attitude in more of my own students and peers. Min worked well as a father figure/gatekeeper, and his change toward the end was sweet and felt sincere. I also loved Min's wife; she might have been my favorite minor character! Her little acts of kindness toward Tree-ear serve as a nice reminder to readers that even the smallest gesture can save someone's day - or life!

Far, Far Away by Tom McNeal

Far, Far Away by Tom McNeal 

• Pleasure rating: 4/5
• Critical rating: 3/5
• Would I buy this for a child I know? Knowing kids in the YA range, I feel that this book appeals more to adults.

In a word, this book was...magical.

McNeal's novel has a unique narrative p.o.v. I don't even know what to call it, but it's the selling point:

"Let's see, students, there is first person, third person limited, third person omniscient...oh, and first person ghost omniscient-y." 

Image taken from Amazon.com

The narrator is sort of a Nick Carraway - an off-to-the-side observer - but this guy, unlike good old Nick, is dead. During his life on Earth, he was one of the Brothers Grimm. 

Since the narrator is a ghost, he can see every characters' actions, like an omniscient narrator. On the other hand, his deepest desires are the only ones we are entirely privy to, which makes the narrative p.o.v. more like first person or third limited. He is also very, very close to Jeremy, the protagonist, and so we often get glimpses into Jeremy's wishes and dreams. Confusing, but so cool and creepy.

I now feel that I need a new category for point-of-view lessons: "Let's see, students, there is first person, third person limited, third person omniscient...oh, and first person ghost omniscient." I can see the blank stares now. 

At first I felt put off by this removed-yet-intimate narration, but after a few pages, I was hooked. If you are looking for a unique voice, look no further, and I'll even provide a link to purchase: Purchase FAR FAR AWAY on Amazon here! 

I fell in love with the ghost character himself - his loneliness, his other-worldliness, and his longing to understand "the thing undone"(the thing from his human lifetime preventing him from passing to the other side) kept me in the story. Maybe it says something about me that I was most drawn to the ghost? Hmmm...

While the ghost's narrative arc is pure perfection, the fleshy characters' stories leave something to be desired. Jeremy and Ginger are both too cookie-cutter for me. Ginger is the ever so played out gorgeous, slender chick who helps Jeremy find himself (oh but she is smart! and strong!), and Jeremy is so passive and predictable that at times, it is hard to root for him. Double yawn for the protagonist and leading lady. The peripheral mortals do not leap off the page and surprise me either. I could have predicted most of the fully human characters' endings from far, far away. 

Nonetheless, this book is a winner. It put me to sleep every night for a few weeks, and I mean that as a compliment. It sort of soothes you, like a fairy tale or a lullaby. Magical. The Brothers Grimm would approve.