Wost 4103H and 5104 - International Feminist Theories

While reading these texts, mainly, On feminism and nationalism, I was surprized to see how Kartini had a negative view of her people, while relating more with Dutch people. It seemed to me that even though she sometimes viewed her people's ways in a negative light, she also viewed the Netherlands negatively too. I am somewhat confused as to why she would negatively show herself/her people. I guess this is part of the internalization of what she has lived through, but I think that it would have been more important for me to show myself in a more positive way. However, I think that her use of the Dutch language is where she in a way proves herself as being an educated woman, and how she can part herself from her own country.

Posted by Desiree Bridell at 08:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I know this is late and I feel like I preface every week's entry with an apology.

I'm interested in the fact that Kartini could only get her views about imperialism and patriarchy across by maintaining connections with the structures that oppressed her. I suppose that for her, the most logical (and probably effective) way to express her dissent was through writing, but it seems that grassroots organizing (did that exist then in the same way it does now?) might have been a way to register her disappointment with the Dutch and even certain Javanese structures without colluding with the enemy, as it were. Of course she seems to separate Stella Zeehandelaar and Western education from Dutch imperialism so maybe she concieves of "the enemy" in an entirely different way than I do.

As other people have mentioned, some level of internalized oppression seems to be at work. Kartini resents the that the Javanese are treated as inferiors by the Dutch while at the same time, she constantly praises Dutch learning and culture. Like other people have suggested, her self-deprecation may be a strategy for acceptance of her rhetoric. Of course I don't really now. I don't think sarcasm and subtlety translate particularily well.

What do people make of her choice to write in Dutch? I realize that she has a Dutch pen pal, but the theory and radical ideas that she is formulating might have been useful to other Javanese women. Did she share these ideas with her peers in Java?

Posted by Pari McGarraugh at 06:19 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Cote's assertion that it was the radical core of Dutch Feminism that was
appropriated by ingenious feminism seemed to resonate with me. It is the
idealism of feminism that that speaks to women on the other side of the
ocean. It is interesting to me that some colonized women could separate
the ideals of feminism from the colonialism in which feminism was so often
complicit. I have, at times, found it hard to make this separation myself.

I was trying to explain to my feminist history major boyfriend why so many
colonized people have rejected the term and project of Feminism. He just
couldn't understand why people would reject an entire social movement just
because it was complicit in other bad things. I think he has an ability to
look at the aims of something without getting completely distracted by the
past faults of that something. In some ways this is a good thing; but at
the same time, a person can go too far with it and end up ignoring the pain
a movement has caused. So, I think both of us are right.

Kartini's letters have been fascinating. It is not often that I read
primary source documents like this and it's a bit of a refreshing change.
I must admit that I have been quite confused by some of Kartini's views.
They often seem conflicting. For example, she wants her people to not be
thought of as inferior to the Dutch, but she calls the Dutch her superiors.
She also seems to have conflicting views about what culture she wants to
be a part of. It seems that her ideal would be a Java that would accept
her as an educated and liberated woman. But in order to make those changes
in her society she both needs to live within it and go outside it (both
geographically and culturally) to become educated and articulate for and
about her cause.

She is obviously a very strong woman in terms of personality and drive-one
would have to be in order to do the things she did in that time and place.
However, it is fascinating to see how often and easily she gets frustrated
and discouraged. She also often talks about herself as though she did not
make herself what she is, as though Stella is the one doing all the work.
Perhaps these are just niceties, but they seem to be more endemic of
internalized inferiority.

Posted by Emily Cox at 05:24 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I haven't finished reading Kartini's letters yet, but i think one thing from teh forward was really interesting. On ix she addresses the "pain of being an object". This is an issue that Is continuously dealt with by women of color still, everyday with stereotypes of animalism/hypersexualism/exotic is erotic, I can't believe we haven't moved past this. A hundred years ago she feels the same way many do now. I lived in Hawaii last year, and it's really surprising how guys from the mainland will go there with a fantasy of what island girls are like and to try to sleep with as many as they can. They say repulsive things about it (but i do understand that they surely say repulsive things about all women, not just teh hawaiian ones) It almost reminds me of that movie about pocahontas, the new world. Its like, "she is so beautiful and exotic that she isnt really a person like me"

Posted by Sarah Graham at 03:12 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I agree with what Kristin said about Said’s Orientalism, and its connection to the readings. The way that Kartini wrote definitely suggests internalized oppression. It makes me wonder about what kind of opposition to this oppression that indigenous people had. What I mean is: were there people who spoke out against these colonizers and against the effects that they had, or did most people just internalize it like Kartini. And does she truly internalize it? Maybe she displays these internalized beliefs because it is somehow useful, or strategic for her to do so. One motivating factor to do this is that self-deprecation is much more acceptable than being outspoken. I just have a feeling that she wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t somehow useful to her.

Posted by Maria Volpe at 06:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

A question that I see coming up in a lot of people's posts and that I'd like to talk about in class is just what's going on when Kartini calls Javanese people lazy, dumb, uncivilized, and Europeans modern and superior. How much of this is her internalizing colonialist beliefs and feeling herself as a Javanese woman, to be inferior; how much is about her feeling superior to other Javanese because they don't have the education and access to Western culture that she does; and how much is simply a strategic mood, taking on the language and attitude of Dutch people like Stella Zeehandelaar in order to get her point across, and being self-deprecating because convention says she should? In a lot of the historical writings -- Wollstonecraft, Pizan, and some of the characters in Maria de Zayas -- we see women adopting this very humble and even *inferior* attitude even as they're arguing for equality, and here we have the added dimensions of race and colonial positioning. And I want to know whether it's really about convention, strategy, or a real sense of inferiority.

The early part of the Cote article reminded me of the Tani Barlow article from our first class, the (for me rather disturbing) idea that when Western feminists criticize the treatment of women in colonized countries or "third world" countries they're really asserting the superiority of Western ideas and practices, saying that native women need help to be protected from the uncivilized native men. This kind of "international feminism" really supports a colonialist or neocolonialist project.

Cote started out comparing the Dutch women's movement of the late 19th and early 20th century to the one in Britain, but I was frustrated that she didn't continue that comparison, I guess since I have almost no knowledge of Dutch colonialism and I would have liked more comparisons and contrast. In particular I was curious about the idea that Sarah pointed out, toward the end of the article, where R.A. van Sandick (I think in 1898) says that Dutch women need to be sent to Indonesia in order to preserve European virtue and culture, to keep the Dutch men from "going native". How does this compare to discourses used in other colonizing countries in different periods?

I know that in the Portuguese empire there was always quite a bit of "going native", a lot of Portuguese men having sex and having children with native African and Asian and American women. In the 1930s and '40s the Brazilian sociologist Gilberto Freyre wrote about this Portuguese tendency for miscegenation in a positive light, saying that this pattern made Portuguese form of colonialism less brutal and harmful than the ones practiced by Britain, France, and the Netherlands. Freyre's ideas were later co-opted by the Fascist Salazar regime in Portugal and used to justify holding on to their colonies in Africa and Asia into the 1970s, when other European powers had mostly given up on empire. In the greater Portuguese nation, so the story goes, we're all one big happy family and there is not the racism or domination or subjection that you see in other colonies.

Sorry, I went pretty far off topic there, but I guess I am interested in this question, which comes up in the Cote article, of what the role is for European women in colonized countries, whether it's even possible for them to speak or work on behalf of native women, or whether they'll necessarily be supporting the colonial project. It relates to the Alcoff article from the first day and our continuing discussion of what we as US feminists can say and do in support of and in dialogue with women from other countries, in particular less powerful countries.

Posted by Katherine Ostrom at 03:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I would like to write a bit about the internalization of imperialist and colonialist oppression that Kartini expresses so very often in her letters. I am disturbed by how deeply ingrained are her notions of inferiority/superiority of the Javanese people versus the Dutch... or the brown versus the white as she makes so clear. Kartini has an obvious admiration for Stella Zeehandelaar if for no other reason than because she is a white European-- the foreward of the book even describes Zeehandelaar as "an ordinary young Dutch woman." Kartini constantly expresses her thanks to her penpal for any response she receives, and apologizes for her supposedly terrible Dutch. Her feelings of inferiority are best expressed in her words on kissing: "For us it is a joy to brush a soft pale cheek with our lips, but whether the owner of that cheek also likes the feel of a dirty black face against her is another question" (39). Wow. However, I do admire her defiance of the cultural norms she does not agree with-- her denouncement of arranged marriage, "imprisonment" of women in the private sphere of the home, her arguments for women's education, and against Muslim teachings-- something quite rebellious in the context of the time period and conservative culture/religion.

Posted by Jessica Lehrke at 01:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

i was trying to hold this back but it goes along with some of what kristin h. and naomi said. just today i had to give a presentation on _orientalism_ (a book by edward said) and it's about europe's colonization of the "orient".

i'm hardly an expert on the theory but here goes: for centuries, europeans traveling to the "orient" (as if everywhere from egypt to india to japan to everything else considered "east" were all one homogeneous culture) saw the orient through a western lens, defining everything in terms of european ideas instead of finding out what they were/meant to oriental peoples. (ex: some european "orientalists" saw islam as a failed attempt at christianity!) since the europeans colonized the orient, their (inaccurate) definitions and (mis)understandings of all things oriental were imposed on oriental peoples. i don't mean to say that muslims started to think their religion was supposed to be christianity but european values did influence oriental cultures. since the colonizers relied on all these binary terms (west/east, civilized/barbaric, white/brown, etc.) to define themselves as not the other, not the colonized (remember saussure?), it's not surprising--sad, but not surprising--that kartini may really have seen javanese people as big, dumb children and felt that her brown skin was less beautiful or less clean or whatever than the europeans' white skin.

if anyone has a better way of explaining this, adelante!

Posted by Kristin Beamish-Brown at 10:41 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

“i also am an enemy of formality,” (kartini 31). i love this! i’ve always felt that a lot of little rules and conventions are pointless or silly. i sometimes forget that it’s rude to point...because i have never understood why it is rude. i don’t know why girls are brought up to sit with their knees together even if they always wear pants. and respecting my elders is difficult when my grandma is throwing a tantrum (it’s not alzheimer’s—she’s always been like that) and my 15-year-old sister takes her aside to calm her down. so kartini’s declaration really resonated with me. then i read her anecdotes. younger siblings crawling at your feet? using a language not spoken well by your “superior” because speaking his, which you speak just fine, is presumptuous and offensive? making a talented “native” the assistant of an incompetent european? ridiculous rules that have no function other than reinforcing relationships of inequality and keeping the “lesser” people in their place. i am *proud* of kartini for questioning—even rejecting!—this (as far as she could, i suppose). for doubting religion. for aspiring to things that formality forbids her. she was thinking for herself, which is so strongly discouraged in a young, colonized woman.

kartini was, however, using some language that is similar to that of sor juana, zayas, and pisan: overly complimentary to her addressee and somewhat depreciating of herself. is that a formality that women are taught? do you think that speaking in a humble, deferential manner is more common among women than men? is that something that many women have internalized, maybe something left over from our great (great great...) grandfathers trying to keep their women in their place?

another coincidence i noticed: both sor juana and kartini are speaking from warm, “exotic” places to women in cold, northern, european places. this reminds me of a talk given by a demographer (he had all these statistics about populations all over the world) a few years ago. he asked the audience to guess where the most prosperous populations were located. people were naming off different countries and he interrupted us, put his pen down horizontally on the map on his overhead projector, and informed us that most of the more prosperous populations were located north of his pen and the less prosperous south of his pen, which was, across the map, even with where the u.s.-mexico border is, roughly. (i have yet to come up with any explanation for what privileges the north.) this seems relevant to me, but i'm not convinced that it's not nonsense....

Posted by Kristin Beamish-Brown at 10:36 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I’d like to make a few comments on the Cote piece.
First, despite the colonialist/imperialist aspects of the Dutch women’s movement, I found some of the discourse surrounding the working class quite extraordinary. For instance, I was surprised that one of the divisions of the Dutch women’s movement (I’ll use DWM from now on) was pushing for acknowledgement of the needs and rights of the working class…that these women even referenced differences among women seems significant. In addition, near the end of the essay Cote talks about the DWM added attention to the social influences that determine the state of individuals such as prostitutes or single mothers; focus was shifted from believing these people inherently flawed to thinking of them as products of a faulty social system. I wasn’t aware that this type of thought was being used during this time period.

Though I’ve heard it before, I found it humorous that because the men can’t “keep it in their pants,” so to speak, the women must swoop into the colonies and rescue men from their immoral impulses. What is the rational here? Women are inferior to men, but men lack so much self control that they must rely on women to restrain their sexual impulses? Just doesn’t seem logical.

This is just a thought in general, but as I was reading Cote I kept thinking about the strategies the DWM used or did not use in pursuing their cause. Were the arguments they utilized arguments they actually believed in, or the only augments that seemed likely to work with the public? I just wonder if there was ever a conscious move to harness an argument that had previously received response from the public that didn’t necessarily reflect the attitudes of the women deploying them. I’m not sure if this even makes sense, but in my head it seems worth considering 

One other little question. I’m curious as to how the church felt about Sor Juana using Greek Mythology. I would imagine they weren’t thrilled.

Posted by Sarah Oakland at 05:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Though both Kartini and Cote were interesting, I'm questioning the idea of language, translation and colonalism. One of the first quotes from Kartini that jumped out at me was the line "It's true, isn't it, that no matter how good a translation is, it can never be compared with the original" (28). I wonder, like Naomi, if Kartini would have though about her letter's being published, and then translated. The idea behind language becomes so strong, because Kartini seems to be so frusterated with the Java way of fomality, both within language and in action. She seems to find strength and connection in other languages. Cote discusses Kartini in that "recovering the feminist agenda for a maternalist politics buried in colonial progressive and feminist discourse provided a means of conceptualizing the position of traditional Javanese women in ways which empowered her" (477). Yet that feminist agenda was not created in her language. Cote states that "indigenous women found a language to define their own needs" (477), but what does it mean when your needs are not found within your own language? What atmosphere does this create to expressing you needs to others who share that language? What does it mean to give someone else words? When is it empowering? When is it power over (purposeful or not)?
The Cote article was very dense and I would appriciate any background information available so I can place the reading within its time and history. In particular, what was the interesection of movements between class and race? I know that Cote covered this, yet I felt lost in the discription. Sometimes it was a complete seperation, and yet other times it seemed that the feminist movement would move the working class forward.

Posted by Jennifer Mohnkern at 05:04 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Reading Kartini’s letters and the foreword which introduces this edition, made me think a lot about representation. When Stella was asked to share the letters that she had collected from the two women’s correspondence she was reluctant saying that since Kartini had not intended for her letters to be published it might be false representation. Yet, again, I’m interested in just what would be an accurate representation and just what it was Stella and others would want to hide. While the translator of this edition was excited to point out that there was in fact new material in this edition I was not completely struck any of the italicized, previously omitted, material.

As far as content goes we again see anger with regards to the marriage requirement, though this time with a new twist: you don’t get to choose your husband and he can take multiple wives. These circumstances, surely, could be added to the underlying list that we saw in last week’s readings with regards to men’s sexual appetite, drinking, and other poor habits. And, also similar to other readings, the desire for adequate education for women looms large in her discourse.

Aside from these two recurring themes, an interesting addition from Kartini’s perspective is that of the colonial or European gaze. Since she feels and was constantly under the observation of Europeans and also because she was highly interested in traveling (for educational and social purposes) her self-identification as native becomes central to her discourse. One thing that I appreciated in her discussion was that she did not completely “other-ise” herself. She details both positive and negative aspects of the culture and maintains a secure sense of identification within it. While it would have been possible for her to distance herself from the “native peoples/cultures” in order to make herself appear more European she candidly speaks of her desire to know more but never separates herself from the position from which she writes: Javanese native.

Posted by Naomi Wood at 04:21 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

The descriptions of the Javenese in some of Kartini’s letters I found a little surprising. She constantly calls the Javanese "uncivilized" while she praises the “modern” Europeans. She writes that all people are equal, yet immediately following that assertion she states: “No matter how stupid, ignorant or uncivilised a Javanese may be, the class of people to whom you belong will always see in them fellow human beings whom God has created just as she has created civilised people” (33). She also seems to find Europeans are at the top of society. Was this a strategy to gain support for her cause or was it something that had been ingrained into her in a colonized Java?

Posted by Kristin Hamon at 04:18 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I think the clock on this blog is really off. It said I posted at 1 something in the morning and it's 8 pm. Just saying.

Posted by Pari McGarraugh at 02:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Sorry to the people who are presenting tomorrow--I should have posted earlier, but I'm just now getting to it.

I agree with what's been said about the sexual double bind; the line between slut and prude is too narrow to walk, and if anyone is navigating it successfully it seems that it is within the context of a committed (usually heterosexual) relationship. Maybe this is anti-Vanlentine's day sentiment exposing itself, but is sex really that important? I know that, especially at the time that these authors were writing, relationships between men and women are largely played out in a sexual arena, but it seems that virtue is woman's main characteristic and that virtue is completely tied into sex. Cruz makes an argument that women are defined in terms of sexuality by men. And that the vilification of women (again by men) is absurd because it is a vilification of women based on a definition of femininity that is imposed upon women from the outside. Cruz exposes the interests of patriarchy in classifying female sexuality, but even now this theoretical leap remains theoretical. We, as students of feminism, recognize that the virgin/whore double bind is a product of patriarchal power, but its cultural power remains in the world outside of these classroom walls.

I may have a skewed version of the world because the only tape I have left (and the one I'm listening to) is unmarked except for a sticker that says in my dad's handwriting "Country Classics" and Loretta Lynn is singing "We've come a long way, baby, all the way to Hollywood from Arkansas." And it's leaving me with serious doubts about what progress we've actually made.

I am also in doubt about how to approach texts that are so far removed from the current feminist discourse. Do we critique? Is it productive to do so? What can we learn? What is there to say about this stuff anyway?

Posted by Pari McGarraugh at 01:43 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

As everyone else, I was also surprised by the ability of these women to write and be published with such feminist perspectives at this point in history. This is yet another example of how we do not get the whole story when we are taught history during primary and secondary education.

The readings for this week reminded me of two modern concepts. The first is from Pizan. Many of us can probably remember times in our lives where we have become exasperated with discrimination and oppression, and the various things that are wrong in the world. These moments have been described as a feminist ‘click’ or ‘epiphany’. It’s where a person realizes the importance of feminism as an ideology. It is a moment of clarity where you understand the intersectionality of oppression and how interdependent we are as co-habitants of the earth. Wow – I didn’t mean to sound so… religious or something, but stay with me. These ‘clicks’ can be the first time you begin to truly believe in feminism, or it can be a reaffirmation of your beliefs. On page 165, it seems like Christine de Pizan is having a ‘click’. She explains that she wonders “why so many different men, learned and nonlearned, have been and are so ready to say and write in their treatises so many evil and reproachful things about women and their behavior.”

The reading on the ‘disenchantments’ confused me a bit. I couldn’t really tell if this was a description of something that happened, or if it was a fictional story. Either way, these ‘disenchantments’ reminded my of the consciousness raising groups of the 2nd wave. These people were examining their experiences, and trying to find the truth and reasons for these occurrences. This and the other readings have given me a sense of history as a feminist.

If you liked the poem “Happy the Woman Without a Man”, here is something you may want to check out: http://www.cyberdespot.com/home.html?jesustricks/christian-sex.html&frames/left.html&frames/top.html Bijn’s poem revealed her attitude on marriage, and the above link shows some insight on attitudes on sex in 1894 – it’s really funny.

Posted by Maria Volpe at 05:09 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

when i see women playing dumb and helpless, it really irritates me. they’re reinforcing sexist stereotypes; undoing the work that so many dedicated their lives to, that so many of us still fight to protect. of course, that’s in the context of our society today. this position of nominal equality that i often take for granted today (and some women, in my opinion, spit on), that allows me to do almost anything a guy can do and allows me to get mouthy at anyone who tries to limit me because i’m just a girl, is fairly recent. playing dumb was once a strategy for survival, for both women and black slaves (and probably countless others that i just don’t know about).

i learned about the “honor code” in barbara weissberger’s amazing class on medieval spanish literature and i feel like it changed how i view the world. there are different types of honor, but the one that is most interesting and horrifying is basically this: the women in the family are kind of, i don’t know, containers for a man’s honor. if a woman is unchaste, she dishonors her husband, father, brothers, uncles, cousins, whoever. (and “unchaste” here includes rape as well as unconfirmed rumors about her sexual behavior.) the only way to recuperate that honor is to marry her off to the guy (if she’s unmarried) or to murder her. why on earth would a woman’s sexuality be so incredibly important to her family??? before paternity tests, the only way to make sure the children who were inheriting your fortune were really yours was to keep absolute control over your wife. this absurd system is probably a lot more complicated than this but this is the main idea.

so this is the system in which the characters in maría de zayas’ stories (and de zayas herself) were living. cheating or just being suspected of cheating means death. so what is a good, chaste wife to do when another man tries to seduce her? keep it from her husband? well, the woman in the end of that story was killed. tell her husband? that woman was killed, too. under this ridiculous system, women, even the most honest and obedient ones, cannot possibly win. there has been a debate for centuries about maría de zayas’ intention in writing these stories. some say she is upholding the honor code. i’m with those who say she was using irony to criticize it—criticizing it directly would have been risking her life.

sor juana is one of my heroes: she was a mexican nun in the 16th century and is considered the first feminist in the americas (of course, she lived before the term “feminist” or the republic of mexico existed—but the anachronisms are appropriate—she was ahead of her time). she was an absolute genius; when she was tested by a panel of (male) experts she totally kicked ***, and the forms in which she wrote poetry were just about always perfect. i think “redondillas” speaks for itself. (and i think we were supposed to read her “respuesta a sor filotea” also but couldn’t find it so maybe not. is a defense of her right to study, veiled in self-depreciating, overly complimentary language—a genius’ version of playing dumb.)

i had never heard of de Pisan before but it looks like she was doing the same thing—criticizing the unfair position of women in a roundabout way to minimize her risk of punishment. she, of course, had been convinced by the volume of writings and by reputation of philosophers that women must be evil, even though her own experience didn’t reflect that. she was somewhat self-depreciating, like sor juana and some of de zayas’ female characters, and emphasized her devotion to god. she argues for women’s right to education (in the voice of another character, not herself) but still promotes sexist ideas about women’s role, including staying with and putting up with abusive husbands. (i wonder if this is because of the times or if she’s still self-censoring?) i also think that the apparition of the three figures is interesting—very christian imagery but secular figures. (i wonder if that was received well or maybe interpreted as blasphemous?)

coincidentally, the main character of _the doll’s house_, which i read over the weekend to prepare for toril moi’s talk, is doing some of the same stuff. playing dumb for her husband in order to do what she wants (or fix what he didn’t want her to do before he finds out).

the bijns poem, though, was very different. i’m curious to know how the poem was received and what the companion poem about men was like. also, could single women really be independent? did they have legal rights—to own property, for example?

Posted by Kristin Beamish-Brown at 04:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

After reading the poems and excerpts for this week I am surprised that any women were married at all! The pessimism and frustration at the double-standard and lack of equality within marriage is very clear in the texts. It seems that women were being sort of tricked, “deluded by the deceptions of men, all in the guise of love” (113-Thrid Disenchantment). And, after so many years, centuries, of this trickery they are fed up. As many people have mentioned, the fact that these women are writing often more than 600 years ago is astonishing and thrilling. Yet, looking at this from a modern day perspective it is almost frustrating to think of the evolution of the marriage institution and how little it has changed, really. Marriage is still likened to slavery (we use the terms “tied down” “ball and chain”) and, as many of Bjins terms reflect, also relations are still described in animalistic terms (“harnessed” and “yoked” in Bjins’ text and “that dog” “in the dog house” “pig” “hen pecked” etc. today).

I also wonder at how much we have changed as a society and as a colony (to a large extent) of these ideas. For instance, what is our sense of shame? It seems like shame was an important underlying source of motivation for performing (or not) certain roles. “In a Lighter Vein” talks about the shame that men coax women into, sex. While I see that there have been many important changes over the past several centuries, I get the feeling that the underlying religiosity of our foundation maintains this sense of shame and double-standard when it comes to sexual freedom. Even for someone who has little personal connection with the morals and values of organized religion, I am strongly aware of the shame that society would wish to inflict upon “feminine frivolity.”

Lastly, I like the way that de Zayas states up front that her writing isn’t for everyone; it’s only for women who are deceived. Again, these are women who have somehow been tricked by men. Her discourse on intelligence, also reflected in Sor Juana de la Cruz, is reminiscent of this centuries long struggle for women to gain and be allowed equal access to men. It makes me question just who has been reading this texts for all these years. If men have been reading them, why have the changes been so miniscule? Why so few women in power?

Posted by Naomi Wood at 03:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Like Emily I was curious about the idea in several of these readings that sex is only something men want, and that if women could get away from these lustful and immoral men they would be happier. Christine de Pizan's city of virtuous ladies made me think of Herland, Charlotte Perkins Gilman's early 20th century utopian novel about an island populated only by women. All the citizens get along and live in peace and harmony in part because, in the absence of men, there is no sexual desire whatsoever and no jealousy. Sor Juana's Redondillas also reminded me of Wollstonecraft's argument that it makes no sense to say women are inferior to men and therefore don't deserve to be treated equally, since it's really the way they are treated by men, especially being denied education, that keeps them inferior. At what point did feminists start to say that women do have sexual desires and that this isn't a bad thing?

I really enjoyed Christine de Pizan's pretense that upon reading misogynist texts by learned men she actually believed them and despaired that God should have created such a horrible creature as woman. She then cleverly brings in Reason, Righteousness, and Justice, and has them present her ideas, so that Christine's character can remain humble and not seem to be arguing with the misogynist writers. It all seems pretty transparent from here, but it made me wonder if her readers at the time would really believe she'd had such a vision, and in general I'd like to know what kind of reaction there was to these texts at the time they were published.

Posted by Katherine Ostrom at 03:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Like others, I was surprised by the directness of the writing of these women in these periods.

Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz appeared to publish the idea that women could be just as intelligent as men. This feminist rhetoric seems absolutely astonishing to me for any woman to publish in the 1600s.

I was interested in Christine Pizan's The Book of the City of the Ladies when she mentions that women are seen as less moral than men in the era she published the book, the 1400s. I was actually a little surprised by this, but then I remembered Eve. Later in time, though, women in some places became moral authorities, and they were considered more moral than men. When did this change take place and why? I do remember women's supposed moral authority was often used to keep women out of the political sphere, as it would corrupt them. It seems when women were considered less moral, it was used against them, and when they were considered more moral, it was used against them as well.

Posted by Kristin Hamon at 01:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I am really into this medieval/early modern feminist thought time period. The writing of María de Zayas and Juana Inés de la Cruz was really interesting to me. My understanding of this point in time was that women were not allowed to write such pieces, if any for that matter. However, this shows I’m wrong. Even though these pieces were written so long ago, there are points that correlate with contemporary society.

Parallel to what both Sarah and Jessica have mentioned, in modern society women are placed into a lose/lose situation where having sex makes you slutty, and not having it makes you prudish. I had been thinking of the audience of this poem, and I can’t quite narrow it down, I don’t think that it is other nuns, or virtuous women, I guess that it is women or men that are involved in deceitful acts. It could also be men as the first line suggests, “Silly, you men-so very adept at wrongly faulting womankind.” What do you all think? Another part that effects us today, is the part she talks about prostitution and who in the Christian context is sinning, the prostitute or the man?

In this particular text, “In a Lighter Vein,” it was definitely a change of pace. I had to read it a few times to get the full effect of the metaphors, and language that was used, but enjoyed my time doing it. Throughout this piece it seems to show many of the ideals of that era, such as virtuousness, submissiveness, mainly obedient. Just seeing separate words of her text alone shows the oppression that women are under. It also tries to show what men are at fault of.

I also found many similar topics in the Disenchantment piece. Mention of the “burden of all blame” is the “feminine sex.” (114) Crime, folly, loose women, fault, prostitution; “As for women of free habits, what do you expect of them except exactly what you’re seeking, which is for you to have a good time and for her to take away your money?” (114), take advantage, complain, warning. All of these words/concepts also seem to be comparable to “In a Lighter Vein.”

Although this author was a nun, there seems to be part of this poem where she is very resentful towards men. My stereotype is that all nuns are to be free from negative thoughts, but it is clear that this is a generalization of my own. But, with the negative undertone of the text, it is clear that the author wants a reaction because of all the negative terminology. For example, I wrote down all of the pessimistic words in the poem and there was a list near thirty. Included were: ungrateful, cruel, torment, anger, resistance, cries, wimper, naughty, plea, coaxed, fear: all of these words make me cringe my teeth; they all seem so violent, especially coming from a nun. I wonder what was going on in her subconscious thought? Maybe something bad.

Sorry for the randomness of my thoughts, but this is just how they all came out. Overall, it is interesting to think about the era and the process these writers went through.

Posted by Desiree Bridell at 07:32 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Like Danka mentioned, we are presenting on Thursday, so these are just a few points I want to get out there before class.

First, as Jessica commented, I too found it interesting that the type of double standard towards women’s sexuality that Sor Juana mentions is very much alive and well today. Women are in a lose/lose situation, where to exert sexual agency is to be labeled promiscuous and to limit sexual agency is to be labeled a prude. There are just so few moments in history (or even any moments in history) where a woman can express her sexuality without fear of how her actions will be deemed by society.

Also, I like how the emphasis in the piece is being switched from the acts of women to the acts of men. She’s making men address the problems of women’s oppression, and not just discussing how women can react to their oppression and fight it. I see this echoed in a lot of contemporary writings, such as the shift of the discussion of racism from being just something people of color must deal with, to something that also privileges and must be dealt with by white people. This might be a stretch, as far as the comparison goes, but it is what came to my mind when reading. Any thoughts?

I agree with Jessica that Christine de Pizan is pretty straightforward and daring in the type of language she uses. I would extend this to include Sor Juana as well. The last four lines of her poem have a bit of a bite to them. Plus, there’s the whole line about how blessed the woman is who rejects a man. It makes me wonder how she was able to be so bold – I’m curious if the fact that she was a nun had anything to do with the way she was able to express herself.

The “rejecting men” comment by Sor Juana made me think of the de Pizan writing because it revolves around this idea of women separating themselves off, apart from men. I’m wondering what others think about this approach…

Posted by Sarah Oakland at 04:54 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I really enjoyed Anna bijns "Happy the woman without a man" because of the format of poetry (it also helped that it was short). The obvious message is that she is warning women about marriage: "Her marriage ring with shackle her for life" and that you lose your sense of freedom and choice. Not that during the early 1500s women had any kind of choice at all. She speaks clearly against marriage but there is still the patriarchal father and brother figures of a family that restrict women's autonomy. However reading it now it seems like a cautionary statement for both women and men. That marriage can be the end of freedom and individuality: "to do one's business and no explaining is sure lots of fun!" Everything is shared, nothing is your own and it becomes a loss of self.

In regards to Pisan's "The Book of the City of the Ladies" I was confused about if she really believed that women were somehow lowly compared to men. The introduction said that she is questioning why society is so misogynistic and if their attacks on women might be true. There were moments when she so convincingly wrote it but then again I can easily see her converse arguments as well. My personal favorite was if god is good and god made women, then women must be good. Why would god create an evil, lesser being? Women are constantly blamed for the downfall of men - a moral corruption. . . . so there does seem to be a huge distinction between good women and bad women in her piece. That there are women who are not moral, tempt men and cause havoc. But she states the good that good women do is more abundant. Hence she argues for the education of women. there needs to be more women doing good and contributing which is very logical.

Posted by Kimberly Mcglothlin at 02:55 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I am in the computer lab at school and the ereseve readings will not open for me. I tried on a mac and a pc, I have the password and its letting me in, but they won't open. When they do open, its a bunch of numbers and letters. Am i doing something wrong?

Posted by Sarah Graham at 10:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I was surprised at how blunt Pizan was about mens' role in women's oppression. She denounces mens' writings that speak badly of women. Calling men grossly ignorant (168) and saying that men who write/speak badly of women are "motivated by the defect of their own bodies" and jealous of "women of greater intelligence" (169) was, I am sure, a very brave thing to do (especially) at the time. Although I found it quite amusing. She also makes a point that was emphasized by Wollstonecraft in "Vindication," and that is the importance of education. Both women argue for women's education, stating that, despite what men say, education will not weaken women's morals. But instead, education could do nothing but strengthen their virtue. Virtue appears to be very important to Pizan, as she calls for all women-- virgins, widows, everyone-- to be virtuous, and "make liars" of men. Is this not doing exactly what the normative society calls for? Of course, the idea of "normative society" was not used at the time, but what she is suggesting is exactly what men of the time usually demanded-- passivity.

I found "In a Lighter Vein" by de la Cruz very interesting. She not only questions the whore/madonna dichotomy, but takes it one step beyond that, emphasizing that not only is the woman who stays "virtuous" a "good woman," but the man she denies considers her frigid. She discusses how, no matter how women react to sexual advances, they cannot win. She also addresses the double standard involved in prostitution-- she asks who is to be blamed in such a situation, "the woman who sins for money/ or the man who pays money to sin?" Many people see the prostitute as the evil-doer, the sinful woman, the temptress, but do not address the other guilty party. Of course, this situation brings up a whole debate about legal/illegal prostitution, etc...

Posted by Jessica Lehrke at 06:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Though the readings for this week are considerably short, I find it hard not to say much, but since Sarah and I are presenting this week and we only have a short time to meet, I did want to bring some questions up for us to consider.

Being a literature student, I find it fascinating how these women present the early feminist thought (if you can even call it that back then…) (again, how do we constitute when it is that we start calling a thought something that it is?) As Amy referred to these, these pre-political feminisms have a very obvious way of getting out – what is it though that these women use to make these appear in discourse? If we look across the border on all of the readings, what form (style) does this thought take? How do these women present them? Are they successful?

Christine de Pizan, as untypical of a woman of her time as she was, surprised me because I actually expected women writers (the ones that write because it’s their occupation) to not be allowed until much later. I find her way of presenting her case very clever. Could we call her a Human Rights activist as well? Think about the author of The Book of the City of Ladies and how that aligns (or doesn’t) with the ‘voice’ of the piece. She, as many others of the time, uses religion in her work. What effect does it have? What is her purpose for it?

If we think about all these ladies and their way to describe women (AND men), what is the language that is used to present them (adjectives, nouns, metaphors)?

Based on the readings, can we come up with a definition of “the woman’s fault”? How about “the man’s fault”? Just a thought…

Posted by Danka Kerekretyova at 07:50 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Amy since the email thing hasn't been working I"m just going to upload my discription onto the site.

Download file

Posted by Emily Cox at 05:13 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

In A Lighter Vein:

This poem made me question whether gender based oppression has become more hegemonic in our culture as it has become larger in scope. As many have observed, our culture is becoming more unified in this country (more being the operative word here, since there is still large regional and local cultural differences). The author said that men are to blame for the oppression of women. Today I don't feel as though one could make that claim. I have questions about whether or not that claim was completely true for the time she wrote it, but there seems to have been more blatant gender oppression then and more hegemonic and systematic oppression now. If I am wrong about this and the oppression was as hegemonic then as now, then how does hegemony operate in small systems?

It was so interesting to read these writings by women who thought that sex was the devil and that the key to gender liberation was liberation from sex. Now perhaps it is obligatory sex that is what they needed to escape. However, it seems as though the worldview of the author was that, for 'good' women, all sex was imposed by men and was hence obligatory. Any sex that wasn't pushed on a woman by a man was slutty. Thus the only escape for women was no sex. Is this really what was in the text, or was I reading into things here?

The Book of the City of Ladies:

Her explanations of what misogyny exists are not ones I totally agree with; however, I'm not sure how useful it is for me to disagree with them, since Bijns wrote this hundreds of years ago and is not a part of general argument today. I guess that is a question then: How useful is it to agree or disagree with an author fro so long ago that doesn't have any noticeable barring on modern day discourses?

I was a bit taken aback when she said that married women should probably just accept their position because "sometimes it is not the best thing for a person to be free." That one came out of left field for me... She's advocating for good ladies to escape men and go to live in this city of their own and yet she's telling married women to say where they are. What if the married women are getting raped by their husbands?

Disenchantments of Love:

I was a bit confused. Were these excerpts supposed to be cut off in mid-sentence?

These 'disenchantments' sounded rather like the consciousness raising group of the women's liberation movement (except with men present and not so much about personal experience).

It was interesting how often the beauty of the disenchanters was mentioned. The men in the audience were almost angry about what the women were saying, but their beauty caused them to give up. I can tell if this is a tactical thing (putting beauty into the picture to not seem so radical) or if it is just the way the author was thinking.

Posted by Emily Cox at 04:11 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

(i’m sorry to post so late. yesterday i couldn’t get to the site.)

de beauvoir recognizes that women’s situation, our so-called inferiority, is a result of patriarchal systems designed to limit us and that myths about our ineptitude are propagated by calculating or insecure or self-deluded men—and sometimes women. i guess i was surprised to read ideas so pertinent to today’s world in a text that was published more than fifty years ago.

well, some of the ideas.... “what has become of women?” “femininity is in danger!” (did that make anyone else laugh out loud?) these expressions of alarm strike me as attempts to protect what is really in danger—patriarchy—because those women who have “lost their way” (are acting like men? like people?) are proving gender biases and men’s superiority wrong. gender equality, admitting that “feminine” and “masculine” aren’t very accurate (and therefore aren’t very valuable) terms doesn’t take anything away from people. a woman can still choose to be pretty and sweet and whatever, still be a loving wife and mother if she wants. the point is to not restrict anyone because of gender. if a woman is professionally ambitious and/or decides not to have kids, she isn’t less of a woman. she just doesn’t fit into categories of gender that are artificial.

i agree with the “well-known woman writer” who wanted to be counted among the men. that which is labeled as “women’s” or “feminine” is ignored or condescended to. literature reflects universal (white men’s) truths; women’s literature might as well be called “literature lite.” i do wish, though, that rather than getting herself into the category with the men, she’d at least tried to argue against the gender division. of course, if she’d made crazy claims about women’s equality, she never would have been taken seriously.

i constantly wonder why men feel the need to exclude women, perpetuate their subservience. it must be about not wanting to share power (a concept i can’t really relate to—why would anyone want to overpower anyone else?) but i think it’s also about ego and insecurity. puffing out their chests so no one notices how tiny they are...? wouldn’t a rational human being rather have a partner who is an equal, someone to share the burden and offer support, someone who is with him by choice rather than need?

there are a couple of expressions that de beauvoir uses that i’ve seen before and wonder about their origins and exact meanings: “eternal feminine” and “woman question”???

(i wrote this before reading moi’s essay. i have plenty to say about that but i’m just going to get this posted before i run into any more technical problems!)

Posted by Kristin Beamish-Brown at 06:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Let me just say right off the bat that reading the article “Translating Gender” could not have come at a better time for me. I am currently taking Spanish 1004 here at the U, and one of our vocabulary words for this chapter is ‘el sexo’. The book explains that ‘el sexo’ means ‘gender’. A red flag automatically went up for me and I asked my instructor about different words for (oversimplified) biological sex and social gender. My instructor gave me a quizzical look and said that ‘el sexo’ covers both. Some classmates even asked me what the difference between sex & gender is. That turned into a long discussion.

As with most other people, Moi’s article makes me question how (if) we can trust translations. I would love to be fluent in many different languages so translation wouldn’t be an issue, but (especially since I find 1004 difficult) this is probably not realistic. Does this mean that whenever we read a translated text, we should try to find criticisms of it?

Regarding “The Second Sex”, I was struck (like Pari) by the statement that “the attitude of defiance of many American women proves that they are haunted by a sense of their femininity.” That sentence (hopefully translated decently) made me think about identity and authenticity. I have often felt that I am trying to redefine femininity for myself, but in doing so, am I just allowing this construct to control me? Does this mean that the only way to truly redefine femininity is to do so subconsciously? It is possible to be truly subversive if the act of subverting is reifying the construct you are intending to subvert?

Posted by Maria Volpe at 05:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I was fascinated (well, scandalized) by the section at the end of Moi's article about her contact with Knoph and Vintage, the English-language publishers of The Second Sex. They argued in part that it wasn't necessary to replace the bad translation in part because it had been done with good intentions, and not as part of an anti-feminist conspiracy to make Beauvoir look bad. I like that Moi sees Parshley's intentions as "noble" but says that his intentions have no bearing on whether the translation was bad and whether there should be a new one. Her statement that "We should... distinguish between sexist intentions and sexist effects" (p. 1031) reminded me of the Alcoff article we read for the first class, the point she eventually makes on page 26 that we can't look at the content of one person's claim to speak for another without looking at the effect. Parshley was "speaking for" Beauvoir and people continue to read his words as if they were hers, and as if they were expressing her ideas, with all the negative effects Moi describes, including Beauvoir not being taken seriously as a philosopher.

It's a little surprising to think about because Alcoff's article was all about "speaking for" those who are less privileged, and I always think of French intellectuals as being in a position of privilege, and not needing to have other people speak for them in order to have their ideas heard. Knoph's and Vintage's assertion that people who really want to read what Beauvoir wrote will just have to read the original is, of course, absurd, and yet I think it would sound even more absurd if they were talking about a text written in Chinese or even Spanish. Academics throughout the world are expected to be able to read English because it's a prestige language. Intellectual exchanges go on in English and anyone who wants to participate needs to learn it. People who are really serious about Beauvoir (or Derrida, or Lacan) are expected to know French and people who are serious about Freud or Kant should learn German. There isn't that feeling about philosophers writing in other languages. Academics are encouraged to learn Spanish and other languages if they're going into area studies, if they want to read documents or fiction or to talk to people; but there isn't as much value given to ideas that aren't expressed in English or French.

Posted by Katherine Ostrom at 03:47 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

During the winter break I was discussing diversity with my dad, who does native Hawaiian studies. I posed the question: If, in our efforts to understand one another (across cultural-boundaries) one loses part of her cultural authenticity (i.e. begins using words from other languages mixed in with the native language etc.) does this mean that the culture is not as essential? In my dad’s field, many Hawaiian people are responding to the study of ‘their’ culture with frustration, noting that they are part of a living culture which does not need to be glorified in museums but rather recognized as still alive. Similarly, I think that in “Translating Gender” we could ask a related question with regards to the evolution of the Spanish language with regards to incorporating new terminology.

Interestingly, as noted with reference to the superiority awarded French language, there is not much debate, highlighting of the Spanish words that we have incorporated into our vocabulary. Yes, many of these words have to do with food (which, like women’s housework, should not be brushed aside as unimportant!) but others do not. And daily, with the growing Spanish-speaking population here, this list of vocabulary grows. Terminology usage in the U.S. focuses primarily on the U.S. influence and abilities to translate into the “other” language; is it successful or not? Are the terms we use here somehow more specific, appropriate? When, it would be interesting to analyze what terms and ideas are being adopted here and possibly not being accounted for.

Sometimes I find myself falling into a trap of pessimism, lamenting that the U.S. so aggressively influences cultures, economies and languages—among other things—and therefore its influence is not a natural blending but rather a strategic plan for domination. However, if what we are studying, to an extent, is the exchange between cultures and the dialog or lack thereof among feminists (to use our word) of different backgrounds, we must take this influence for granted to an extent. The specific example of “genero” in Spanish as the translation from the English “gender” is fascinating. What was most interesting to me about this example is the idea that “genero” is a word that is already very charged, with two important meanings. Adding another, then, diminishes from the primary two and also renders confusing the term itself. It makes me question how many other terms are in this same bind of multiple signification and what effect this has on translations in general.

I think that I’m in thought-shock with regards to Moi’s article on de Beauvoir but I’m actually feeling more strongly that translations are necessary. Certainly there should and needs to be some sort of checks and balances to confirm that we are not being duped, but, I admit that I must take Danka’s comment seriously and propose that we all learn French, why not? Obviously, we can’t wait for translations. And, no, we cannot learn every language and yes we will always be fed someone else’s take when we read a translation of a text; but, isn’t this a bit what Alcoff was saying when she said that we change each day and therefore can never really even represent (speak for) ourselves? Hey, I’m an optimist at heart. It seems to me that we want perfection and we want essence without having to actually interrogate. We must question everything and know that what we are being told is only a perspective.

End of story. In response to my frustration regarding maintaining diversity, yet wanting deep understanding, my dad used the analogy of the ecosystem. Cultures are like organisms, if one dies out eventually they will all die out. Without diversity things just get worse and worse. So, while to an extent we are inevitably, it seems, trying to reach some common ground (language) at another level we are committed to preserving difference. However, does highlighting this difference mean a “monumentalism” (as Richard says) and therefore diminish it? Too much theory!!

Posted by Naomi Wood at 03:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I really liked the "Translating Gender" article, and it brought up a lot of questions for me. I was interested in how Spanish was considered a lesser language than French. I don’t advocate this, but would it be easier to have a universal language? How is language tied to one’s identity and culture? I think that even if language differences were erased, people would still find a way to mark other people as in a different “social class.”

I was also interested in how some of the problems in translating words were when there was no equivalent in another language, or the same meaning of the word was not attached to it. I read an article a while ago that argued emotions are culture-specific, not universal, and emotion cannot be neatly identified by English words. Polish does not have the equivalent of the English word ‘disgust.’ An Australian Aboriginal language, Gidjingali, does not differentiate between ‘fear’ and ‘shame.’

My question is