- Email: [email protected]
Bitter healing: German women writers, from 1700 to 1830
624
Book Reviews
rightful place as not only paralleling Reaganism, but exemplifying a mass marketing strategy of the New Right, is perhaps one of Christian-Smith’s most tantalizing, if controversial, points. In spite of this political twist which distinguishes the novels of the more conservative periods one and three from the more rebellious novels of period two, the structure of Christian-Smith’s study, which examines the repeated themes of heterosexual romance, beautification, and sexuality in all three periods, tends to illuminate the similarities in romance novels more than the differences. For example, Christian-Smith notes that period two novels minimize the trials and tribulations of entering the world of cosmetic pizzazz undertaken to transform the ugly duckling into a swan; the heroines in period two novels are simply magically beautiful to begin with, which is read, in spite of its contradictory implications, as a real, if minor, step toward reducing the objectification of the heroines. But except for the explicit advertisement to the cosmetic industry, the message seems to me very little different from the message of period one and three novels: Beauty is important and the measure of heroine’s self worth is mirrored by the judgment bestowed upon her by her boyfriend. And in all novels (period two novels included) romance is transformative: the girl blossoms, becomes more beautiful, more selfconfident, more generous when romance beckons at her door. That teen romances reinforce a traditional sexuality indeed is one of Christian-Smith’s central points, although not a terribly surprising one, particularly following Janice Radway’s analysis of adult romances in Reading the Romunce (1984) from which ChristianSmith draws considerably. More interesting is Christian-Smith’s linking the effects of social class, race, and the shifting dynamics of the work force to romance fiction and her reading romance fiction as enacting ideological oppositions which organize signification. Nevertheless, her discussion of semiotics and Gremias’s analysis of narrative form, which appear in the Appendix, and her discussions of the changing political and economic climates, which, in the penultimate chapter chronicle women’s entry into the labor force, tend to read more like separate essays than means for contributing toward a more extensive understanding of the dynamics of teen romance fiction. In the final analysis, Christian-Smith aptly identifies teen romance as an insidious ideology, which, in spite of its preoccupation with sexuality, deprives its female characters of their sexuality, their pleasures, and desires. The young girl becomes a blank body, a blank map onto which someone else’s desires are inscribed, all of which is somehow made to seem desirable: for a woman to be denied such a pleasure in the world of romance is to cease to exist. His “closed eyes” become her “extinction.*’ DEBRAHRAXHKE VIRGINIACOMMONWEALTH UNIVERSITY RICHMOND,VA, USA
‘Paraphrased from Li-Young-Lee, ‘The Room and Everything,” The City Which ILove You (Boa Ed. LTD: Rockport, New York, 1990).
Brrrnn HEALING: GERMANWOMEN WRITERa, FROM 1700 TO 1830. edited by Jeannine Blackwell and Susanne Zantop, 539 pages. University of Nebraska Press, Lincoln, NE, 1990. Cloth, USS38.50, Paper, USS14.95. One major difficulty in incorporating more literature by German women writers into general literature courses at American universities has been the relative unavailability of translated works, especially in anthologized form. The few exceptions-such as The &fmnt Muse or Germon Women Writers of the Twentieth Century- have served, by their very scarcity, to prove the rule. Furthermore, translations of hulividual authors’ works have been concentrated largely in the area of 20th century literature. Thus, Bitter Healing is a doubly welcome addition to the canon. One consequence of restricted accessibility to primary literature has been. as the editors of this volume observe, that “generalizations about women’s writing, feminine aesthetics, or female perspectives have often been based on limited evidence and bear the mark of parochialism.” Any published collection of texts implies by its inherent selectivity a poetic-political definition of what constitutes literature. This anthology is clearly feminist in its circumvention of the restrictive appellation Frouenliterotur and in its intent to “complement, expand, and possibly revise existing histories of German literature and established notions of %terariness’.” The publication of the texts in this anthology further serves to challenge two assumptions, first, that German literature had little influence on English literature in the 18th century (in fact, English writers widely translated German works), and second, that German women writers inspired their male counterparts and then imitated or trivialized their innovations (we learn, however, that “a parallel reading of texts by men and women may suggest the reverse”). A third contribution of this volume is its revisioning of the so-called Age of Goethe, a period designation which has been uncritically applied among Germonisten in both Europe and the United States for decades. Blackwell and Zantop show through the 15 authors represented in this work that this period, usually associated exclusively with male literary and artistic production, constituted an era of intensive literary activity for women as well. The very diversity of the authors - representing various social classes, political orientations, and religious beliefs- testifies to the extent of women’s involvement both in belles lettres and in the larger literary-cultural uscene.n Zantop’s introductory essay offers the reader much more than an introduction to the texts in the anthology; rather it also provides a historical survey of German women’s writing to 1830. In addition to summarizing both various social influences on women writers and the consequent genre and stylistic choices they made, the essay also locates major writings by women and women writers themsefves within a socio-historical context. 1 found the attempts to situate German letters within a larger European-here French and English-context especially useful; I would have welcomed even more extensive efforts in this direction, in that the intercomusctions and mutual influences among European literatures all too often receive critical short shrift. One expected commonality among the anthologized works which is highlighted in the introduction is that of
Book Reviews
autobiography and its changing role-i.e., increasing secularization-in women’s literary production. Less expected perhaps are the themes of the utopian impulse or quest manifested in the works of numerous women writers and an equally strong concern with the legitimization of writing, the latter being generally uncharacteristic of men’s writing. What also emerges strongly from both the introductory essays and the literary texts themselves is the importance of privilege and access to both education and leisure for “literary” women. The volume’s oxymoronic title suggests the difficult and therefore complex, oftentimes even contradictory, conditions surrounding women’s literary creativity-complexities which are reflected thematically in women’s writings as well as in the biographical details of their individual lives. The editors have achieved a nice balance in Bitter Healing among various genres-poetry, prose, letters, fairy tales, religious confessions-as well as a broad representation of both well known and lesser known writers. Their dual-language translations of the lyric poetry selections ensure that the texts are accessible to the widut possible audience without sacrificing the integrity of the original text. It is difficult to argue with Blackwell and Z&top’s criteria of “readability &d aesthetic interest” in selecting the texts for the anthology; I question only their decision to choose texts in part by their length in order to avoid excerpting them, a practice which, by the editors’ own admission, resulted in the inclusion of less representative texts in some cases and the outright exclusion of some important authors. I am also unclear what it means to select “texts that would appeal to the modem reader,” a criterion which is not further explained. Bitter Healing’s strengths: the wealth of information it provides, its focus on primary texts, its critical and revisionary orientation, and its educational aides, such as biographical introductions to each author and selective bibliographies, make it especially attractive for classroom use. I could see it being used effectively in conjunction with a volume such as In the Shadow of Olympus: German Women Writers around 1800, edited by Goodman and Waldstein, which is a collection of critical essays in English about essentially the same period, writers, and works as those presented in Blackwell and Zantop’s anthology. Bitter Healing would enrich syllabi in classes on the German classical period, in European literature surveys, in courses on women writers, or in more special&red seminars focused on German women writers. ELAINEMARTIN UNIVER.SITYOFAL.ARAMA Tu~cALoosA,AL,USA
TELELJFE OFTHEAUTHOR OF “niE by Emily Toth, 528 pages. Morrow, New York, 1990. USS27.95.
KATECHOPIN: AWMENING",
Praising her vivid recreations of the lives and language of Louisiana Acadians and Creoles, critics and revlewers contemporary with Kate O’Plaherty Chopin called her one of the country’s best “local colorists.” Valuing her attention to detail, many other readers and literary acquaintances defmed Chopin as a “realist,” one reader saying in a letter. “[s]he is realistic to a fault” (p. 346). In
625
his 1%9 biography of Chopin, Seyersted presents her as a genteel southern lady with a vivid imagination, while in the Columbia Literaty History of the United States, Cecelia Tichi ranks Chopin with the anything but genteel, rebellious group of turn-of-the-century writers creating popular *ew Woman” fiction. More recently, however, Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar claim Chopin as a participant in the early 2Oth-century growth of the “‘modernist aesthetic.” Amid the continuing effort to classify, define, and finally categorize the elusive Kate Chopin, Emily Toth reveals the failme to designate Chopin’s literary place as inevitable. Toth’s Kate Chopin: The Life of the Author of “The Awakening” convincingly highlights the contradictions, complexities, and diversities that compose the woman behind the illfitting labels, showing how Kate Chopin was, in varying proportions, all of the terms attached to her. Ever sensitive to the relationship between Chopin’s life and her art, Toth traces the experiences of Chopin’s childhood and young adulthood as they shaped and inspired the later adult writer. After briefly discussing Chopin’s childhood, Toth quickly turns to her young adulthood, focusing on the actions and habits which differentiated Chopin from the traditional image of the “southern belle.” Toth contradicts reports of Chopin’s submissive and lady-like behavior when she shows Chopin’s reluctance to enter the social sphere appropriate to her status and wealth. She preferred reading and writing to dancing, and though she mastered the art of flirtation. despised mindless chit-chat and avoided men “whose only talent lies in their feet” (p. 20). As Toth explains, Chopin exhibited early the traits necessary for a woman to develop into a writer who challenges through her fiction and her life the established roles for women. Significantly, Toth’s extensive research into Chopin’s married existence reveals the author’s life as closer to her fiction than previously suspected by literary scholars. As a young wife in Louisiana, Chopin alienated the community with her refusal to accept the traditional roles assigned to women of her class. Toth explains, “she smoked Cuban cigarettes, promenaded in her extravagantly fashionable clothes, lifted her skirts too high when she crossed the street, and scandalized the neighbors- especially after the sudden death of her husband, when she was thirty-two” (p. 20). Toth then offers startling new evidence of the widow Chopin’s passionate affair with a married man, a man who figures in her fiction as the reappearing character, Alcee. This new evidence suggests Chopin drew less on pure imagination and more on real life for her depictions of forbidden love than previously supposed, thus advancing our understanding of her creative process. When Chopin finally broke off the affair to return to St. Louis, she initiated a literary career, composing stories set in the lush, sensual setting of her former Louisiana home. Toth devotes all of the remaining chapters to discussing the relationship between Chopin’s literary success and her life, individual works, and public reception of her works, including chapters devoted to At Fault, Bayou Folk. A Night in Acadia, “The Storm,” and The 2 wakening. Toth draws extensively on private letters, journal entries, and published reviews to support her claims about public reception. Significantly, Toth disproves the myth of the banning of The Awakening, which helped jettison this book into public attention and
Book Reviews
rightful place as not only paralleling Reaganism, but exemplifying a mass marketing strategy of the New Right, is perhaps one of Christian-Smith’s most tantalizing, if controversial, points. In spite of this political twist which distinguishes the novels of the more conservative periods one and three from the more rebellious novels of period two, the structure of Christian-Smith’s study, which examines the repeated themes of heterosexual romance, beautification, and sexuality in all three periods, tends to illuminate the similarities in romance novels more than the differences. For example, Christian-Smith notes that period two novels minimize the trials and tribulations of entering the world of cosmetic pizzazz undertaken to transform the ugly duckling into a swan; the heroines in period two novels are simply magically beautiful to begin with, which is read, in spite of its contradictory implications, as a real, if minor, step toward reducing the objectification of the heroines. But except for the explicit advertisement to the cosmetic industry, the message seems to me very little different from the message of period one and three novels: Beauty is important and the measure of heroine’s self worth is mirrored by the judgment bestowed upon her by her boyfriend. And in all novels (period two novels included) romance is transformative: the girl blossoms, becomes more beautiful, more selfconfident, more generous when romance beckons at her door. That teen romances reinforce a traditional sexuality indeed is one of Christian-Smith’s central points, although not a terribly surprising one, particularly following Janice Radway’s analysis of adult romances in Reading the Romunce (1984) from which ChristianSmith draws considerably. More interesting is Christian-Smith’s linking the effects of social class, race, and the shifting dynamics of the work force to romance fiction and her reading romance fiction as enacting ideological oppositions which organize signification. Nevertheless, her discussion of semiotics and Gremias’s analysis of narrative form, which appear in the Appendix, and her discussions of the changing political and economic climates, which, in the penultimate chapter chronicle women’s entry into the labor force, tend to read more like separate essays than means for contributing toward a more extensive understanding of the dynamics of teen romance fiction. In the final analysis, Christian-Smith aptly identifies teen romance as an insidious ideology, which, in spite of its preoccupation with sexuality, deprives its female characters of their sexuality, their pleasures, and desires. The young girl becomes a blank body, a blank map onto which someone else’s desires are inscribed, all of which is somehow made to seem desirable: for a woman to be denied such a pleasure in the world of romance is to cease to exist. His “closed eyes” become her “extinction.*’ DEBRAHRAXHKE VIRGINIACOMMONWEALTH UNIVERSITY RICHMOND,VA, USA
‘Paraphrased from Li-Young-Lee, ‘The Room and Everything,” The City Which ILove You (Boa Ed. LTD: Rockport, New York, 1990).
Brrrnn HEALING: GERMANWOMEN WRITERa, FROM 1700 TO 1830. edited by Jeannine Blackwell and Susanne Zantop, 539 pages. University of Nebraska Press, Lincoln, NE, 1990. Cloth, USS38.50, Paper, USS14.95. One major difficulty in incorporating more literature by German women writers into general literature courses at American universities has been the relative unavailability of translated works, especially in anthologized form. The few exceptions-such as The &fmnt Muse or Germon Women Writers of the Twentieth Century- have served, by their very scarcity, to prove the rule. Furthermore, translations of hulividual authors’ works have been concentrated largely in the area of 20th century literature. Thus, Bitter Healing is a doubly welcome addition to the canon. One consequence of restricted accessibility to primary literature has been. as the editors of this volume observe, that “generalizations about women’s writing, feminine aesthetics, or female perspectives have often been based on limited evidence and bear the mark of parochialism.” Any published collection of texts implies by its inherent selectivity a poetic-political definition of what constitutes literature. This anthology is clearly feminist in its circumvention of the restrictive appellation Frouenliterotur and in its intent to “complement, expand, and possibly revise existing histories of German literature and established notions of %terariness’.” The publication of the texts in this anthology further serves to challenge two assumptions, first, that German literature had little influence on English literature in the 18th century (in fact, English writers widely translated German works), and second, that German women writers inspired their male counterparts and then imitated or trivialized their innovations (we learn, however, that “a parallel reading of texts by men and women may suggest the reverse”). A third contribution of this volume is its revisioning of the so-called Age of Goethe, a period designation which has been uncritically applied among Germonisten in both Europe and the United States for decades. Blackwell and Zantop show through the 15 authors represented in this work that this period, usually associated exclusively with male literary and artistic production, constituted an era of intensive literary activity for women as well. The very diversity of the authors - representing various social classes, political orientations, and religious beliefs- testifies to the extent of women’s involvement both in belles lettres and in the larger literary-cultural uscene.n Zantop’s introductory essay offers the reader much more than an introduction to the texts in the anthology; rather it also provides a historical survey of German women’s writing to 1830. In addition to summarizing both various social influences on women writers and the consequent genre and stylistic choices they made, the essay also locates major writings by women and women writers themsefves within a socio-historical context. 1 found the attempts to situate German letters within a larger European-here French and English-context especially useful; I would have welcomed even more extensive efforts in this direction, in that the intercomusctions and mutual influences among European literatures all too often receive critical short shrift. One expected commonality among the anthologized works which is highlighted in the introduction is that of
Book Reviews
autobiography and its changing role-i.e., increasing secularization-in women’s literary production. Less expected perhaps are the themes of the utopian impulse or quest manifested in the works of numerous women writers and an equally strong concern with the legitimization of writing, the latter being generally uncharacteristic of men’s writing. What also emerges strongly from both the introductory essays and the literary texts themselves is the importance of privilege and access to both education and leisure for “literary” women. The volume’s oxymoronic title suggests the difficult and therefore complex, oftentimes even contradictory, conditions surrounding women’s literary creativity-complexities which are reflected thematically in women’s writings as well as in the biographical details of their individual lives. The editors have achieved a nice balance in Bitter Healing among various genres-poetry, prose, letters, fairy tales, religious confessions-as well as a broad representation of both well known and lesser known writers. Their dual-language translations of the lyric poetry selections ensure that the texts are accessible to the widut possible audience without sacrificing the integrity of the original text. It is difficult to argue with Blackwell and Z&top’s criteria of “readability &d aesthetic interest” in selecting the texts for the anthology; I question only their decision to choose texts in part by their length in order to avoid excerpting them, a practice which, by the editors’ own admission, resulted in the inclusion of less representative texts in some cases and the outright exclusion of some important authors. I am also unclear what it means to select “texts that would appeal to the modem reader,” a criterion which is not further explained. Bitter Healing’s strengths: the wealth of information it provides, its focus on primary texts, its critical and revisionary orientation, and its educational aides, such as biographical introductions to each author and selective bibliographies, make it especially attractive for classroom use. I could see it being used effectively in conjunction with a volume such as In the Shadow of Olympus: German Women Writers around 1800, edited by Goodman and Waldstein, which is a collection of critical essays in English about essentially the same period, writers, and works as those presented in Blackwell and Zantop’s anthology. Bitter Healing would enrich syllabi in classes on the German classical period, in European literature surveys, in courses on women writers, or in more special&red seminars focused on German women writers. ELAINEMARTIN UNIVER.SITYOFAL.ARAMA Tu~cALoosA,AL,USA
TELELJFE OFTHEAUTHOR OF “niE by Emily Toth, 528 pages. Morrow, New York, 1990. USS27.95.
KATECHOPIN: AWMENING",
Praising her vivid recreations of the lives and language of Louisiana Acadians and Creoles, critics and revlewers contemporary with Kate O’Plaherty Chopin called her one of the country’s best “local colorists.” Valuing her attention to detail, many other readers and literary acquaintances defmed Chopin as a “realist,” one reader saying in a letter. “[s]he is realistic to a fault” (p. 346). In
625
his 1%9 biography of Chopin, Seyersted presents her as a genteel southern lady with a vivid imagination, while in the Columbia Literaty History of the United States, Cecelia Tichi ranks Chopin with the anything but genteel, rebellious group of turn-of-the-century writers creating popular *ew Woman” fiction. More recently, however, Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar claim Chopin as a participant in the early 2Oth-century growth of the “‘modernist aesthetic.” Amid the continuing effort to classify, define, and finally categorize the elusive Kate Chopin, Emily Toth reveals the failme to designate Chopin’s literary place as inevitable. Toth’s Kate Chopin: The Life of the Author of “The Awakening” convincingly highlights the contradictions, complexities, and diversities that compose the woman behind the illfitting labels, showing how Kate Chopin was, in varying proportions, all of the terms attached to her. Ever sensitive to the relationship between Chopin’s life and her art, Toth traces the experiences of Chopin’s childhood and young adulthood as they shaped and inspired the later adult writer. After briefly discussing Chopin’s childhood, Toth quickly turns to her young adulthood, focusing on the actions and habits which differentiated Chopin from the traditional image of the “southern belle.” Toth contradicts reports of Chopin’s submissive and lady-like behavior when she shows Chopin’s reluctance to enter the social sphere appropriate to her status and wealth. She preferred reading and writing to dancing, and though she mastered the art of flirtation. despised mindless chit-chat and avoided men “whose only talent lies in their feet” (p. 20). As Toth explains, Chopin exhibited early the traits necessary for a woman to develop into a writer who challenges through her fiction and her life the established roles for women. Significantly, Toth’s extensive research into Chopin’s married existence reveals the author’s life as closer to her fiction than previously suspected by literary scholars. As a young wife in Louisiana, Chopin alienated the community with her refusal to accept the traditional roles assigned to women of her class. Toth explains, “she smoked Cuban cigarettes, promenaded in her extravagantly fashionable clothes, lifted her skirts too high when she crossed the street, and scandalized the neighbors- especially after the sudden death of her husband, when she was thirty-two” (p. 20). Toth then offers startling new evidence of the widow Chopin’s passionate affair with a married man, a man who figures in her fiction as the reappearing character, Alcee. This new evidence suggests Chopin drew less on pure imagination and more on real life for her depictions of forbidden love than previously supposed, thus advancing our understanding of her creative process. When Chopin finally broke off the affair to return to St. Louis, she initiated a literary career, composing stories set in the lush, sensual setting of her former Louisiana home. Toth devotes all of the remaining chapters to discussing the relationship between Chopin’s literary success and her life, individual works, and public reception of her works, including chapters devoted to At Fault, Bayou Folk. A Night in Acadia, “The Storm,” and The 2 wakening. Toth draws extensively on private letters, journal entries, and published reviews to support her claims about public reception. Significantly, Toth disproves the myth of the banning of The Awakening, which helped jettison this book into public attention and