Showing posts with label mothers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mothers. Show all posts

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Mary Olivier: A Life

Spoiler Alert!: Some details of the novel, like the death of a certain character, is revealed in this review.
by Courtney Hilden

Mary Olivier: A Life by May Sinclair, is exactly that: the life story (though, interestingly, not necessarily her death) of the title character, who comes of age in Victorian England, struggling with an unsympathetic family, uncaring men, and a passion for intellectual pursuits.
The writing is marvelous. Like The Awakening, the novel begins as the main character is just swimming out of consciousness, and the reader moves through the first part of the book as if in coming out of a dream, becoming more aware of details as the story progresses. Sinclair, who coined the term "stream of consciousness," gives a lovely example of the technique that has so famously become a part of modern novels. The novel is incredibly impressive just because of the writing.
Mary Olivier is often compared to Jane Eyre. Both novels feature smart, meditative young women growing up in Victorian England. Because Jane Eyre is often considered a cult masterpiece by feminist scholars, I wanted to briefly compare the two characters, Mary and Jane, and to write about the issue of control within the novels.
Mary's and Jane's families, especially the women in those two families, attempt to control the main characters. Mary's mother is a Mommy Dearest: passive aggressive, inducing guilt trips, and manipulating her daughter, even when Mary is middle-aged. She disapproves of Mary's love of German, poetry, philosophy, and other subjects, so she takes books away from her. She hates that Mary is an atheist, so she constantly nags her about her beliefs and makes Mary read the Bible to her. She does not want her daughter to get married, so she continually sabotages any relationships Mary has with men. She isolates Mary alone in a home with her for decades, where Mary has little interaction with others, cannot do what she likes, and becomes increasingly cowed by her mother. This is the one of the things that was anti-feminist about the novel: as a young woman, Mary fights this oppression, but eventually allows herself to be controlled. It gets to the point where her mother no longer needs to throw her weight around; Mary makes choices based on her mother's "needs." Like a prisoner who has been watched for too long, she polices herself. Jane, of course, never knows her mother, though other women in her life (such as her aunts and her female cousins) attempt to control her. For the most part, Jane does not let them.
Then, there are of course, the men and how they attempt to control both characters. For Mary, there are multiple men that she considers for suitors: Maurice Jourdain, Lindley Vickers, and Richard. All of them disappoint her in the end. Jourdain likes her as a little girl and pays for her education. He finds that he does not like her with a real mind and that she is too headstrong, and, after being unable to change her, he marries someone else. Vickers courts her while simultaneously sleeping with another young woman in the village. And Richard grows impatient with her and her issues with her mother, so he too marries someone else. And Mary never marries, which to many readers might seem sad, but the novel ends happily, with her, in third person narration discussing how the little things in her life make her happy. Jane's Mr. Rochester infamously treats her with disdain, manipulating her and lying to her about his own marital status. And St. John tries to compel her to marry him and be his sidekick on his suicidal missionary trip. And Jane marries Mr. Rochester, who becomes less handicapped because of her in the epilogue of the novel.
Jane Eyre is a complicated novel when we consider the feminism question. On one hand, it is hard to see her as much of a feminist character or hero because she marries a man who shows her little respect, but one the other hand, she is otherwise fiercely independent when it comes to anyone else in her life. The novel suggests that one should not give up one's independence until the man of your dreams comes along. Mary, conversely, inevitably spurs the advances of all her suitors by being herself, and yet she becomes completely controlled by her mother in her later years. Mary is only happy after her mother conveniently dies. Both Jane and Mary claim to be happy at the end of their novels, and yet I am more convinced that Mary is and will continue to be relatively happy, since she has lost the last controller (her mother) of her life.
Mary Olivier is a fascinating novel in terms of its depiction of women's lives (other female characters make surprising choices not covered in this review). The novel is a great choice not only for Jane Eyre fans, but readers who enjoy Victorian and modernist literature, particularly those who enjoyed The Awakening, "The Yellow Wallpaper" or the works of Virginia Woolf. (The novel was published in 1919 but is set much earlier.)

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Detroit 1-8-7

by Courtney Hilden
Spoiler Alert!: The mystery's ending is revealed in this review.

Given the city of Detroit's reputation as the world's most dangerous city, Detroit 1-8-7, a cop show, should have probably existed before. Given the show's depiction of race, it might be possible to imagine that this was the reason the show as only just premiered. The show's depiction of race is not outright racist, but there are some strange moments that deserve dissecting:

1. Although it is great to see so many of the characters are people of color, it is sad that the main character, Finch, is white. Detroit, save its metro area, is predominately African American, and it feels wrong that the story is told from a white perspective. A story set in Detroit should be told by a person who does a better job of representing its population.
2. It is also really sad that the comedy is being done mostly by the sidekick African American character, Washington. He is inept, he is comical, he is suppose to be a minstrel character, which is so disappointing, again, considering that he is a better representation of the city's population than Finch.
3. Some of the suspects were white, which was a nice change of pace, considering so many of the bad guys on other cop/detective/procedural shows are minorities. Two of the suspects, including a drug addict, were white. The night's bad guy, James Burke, was white. Although many (white) people imagine that there is a lot of black-on-white crime, the case is actually the opposite. Within the episode, the bad guy committed violence against both whites and African Americans, again, different from the mainstream, white imagination. Of course, the drug dealers were African American, so for every bit of progress of racial subversion, something typical and cliche seemed to happen.
4. The episode also depicted an interracial family, one that was sadly dealing with a father in prison and a recently-murdered mother. No comment is made, by anyone, on the fact that a white woman was raising her biracial grandchildren with her African American daughter-in-law. Is this what the so-called post-racial America looks like? Imaginary Detroit?
5. The choice in homicide itself was significant. If you have ever watched Detroit News, you know that the most common murder appears to be the "Baby Momma Murder." By that, I mean husband/boyfriend kills his wife/girlfriend, who is almost always the mother of his children. It is so common that these murders are barely given more than thirty seconds on the news. Often, these murders involve only African Americans, but here it involved a biracial family, one where the white man was killed his African American wife and tried to kill his biracial kids and white mother. This was both confirming to certain ideas about murder in Detroit but also subverted it. It adheres to an all-too-common and tragic story, but it also changed the stereotype, by showing white men just as capable of that sort of violence that is so linked to African American men. It implicitly questioned the idea that this violence is inherently linked to African American men, who are so frequently stereotyped as dangerous savages.

Some other non-race-centric notes about the pilot episode:
1. I also loved how the medical examiner does roller derby in her spare time. Finally, a cop show where the characters at least make attempts at having a life outside the job. And points for giving her a cool, feminist-hailed hobby.
2. The phone conversations between our two main characters, Finch and Washington, were an interesting detail. Previously, the audience had been led to believe Finch is unable to express himself. Those calls show he is capable, he is just choosing not to do so.
3. And finally: Coney Islands! Any good Detroiter can tell you their favorite Coney, and usually knows what is best at a few of them. Points for adding something all too real.